Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-08-13

made by you week since. Even were ne
to grant you audience, l could not willingly
give the matter my serious consideration as
long as the present relations exist. Very
respectfully, MARGARET WESTON"
Atkins lips blanched. He closed the desk
with sharp click and went outside to
confer with his overseer about matters of
business.
July brought something more than love
or lawsuit to claim his attention. Drouth,
hungry drouth7- with dry, starved lips,
swooped down upon the plains, bringing
death and devastation. The grass was
burned to a dull-hued brown; the pools
were drunk up as with an insatiate and
Titan thirst untold suffering befell the
hunger maddened cattle and sheep.
Major Weston's interests and those of the
English syndicate suffered in common. The
accumulation of years of hardship and toll
were about to be swept away in single
summer. The majors face heightened with
the lapse of rainless days.
With August came the first promise of re-
lief. Toward nightfall of the first day the
western horizon was heavy with low, black
clouds, and the majors face showed more
of hope than in weeks he stood on the
porch of his home and watched the quick
lightnings leap from cloud to cloud.
Margaret beside him. His arm stole
about her and they stood together in silence.
Suddenly he started.
Look
Following the direction of his finger Mar
garet deserted a thin blue wsp of smoke
lIsdt tulItu upward from the prairie.
a quick tongue of flame shot out.
MY God. fire. cried the major hoarsely.
With leap he was out on the graveled
walk, racing toward the stables. To snatch
saddle from peg, fling it on the broad
back of Sir Walter, mount and spur away
was but the work of as many moments.
Wide-eyed with excitement Margaret fol-
lowed but a few rods behind her father,
her heart heavy within her at the thought
of the havoc that the fire might cause.
n 1ypn
parable. but such a confagration as seemed
imminent meant ruin.
AS swift as her thoughts the flames raced
out across the prairie in kissing line, the
grass. scared by hot suns, burning like tin
der Two cowboys passed her at a swing
ing gallop. Others, she knew, were racing
toward the fire from opposite directions in
obedience to an unwritten law of the plains.
Night, starless and black with impend-
ing storm, had settled over the plains,
forming a background for picture of wild,
weird grandeur. Scourged by brisk breeze
from the west, the flames writhed eastward.
The forms of the cowboys and their circing
horses were sharply silhouetted against the
lurid glare.
Herds of frenzed cattle, believing as
they raced for life before the pursuing
flames, made the scene more terrible. Above
the din of the terrified beasts rose the
quick command of the leaders, organizing
their forces for desperate fight.
Foremost among the men, bareheaded,
staunch as some chieftain of old urging his
men to battle, rode Maj. Weston. His Or
ders rang out as clear as the crack of a
whiplash. few rods to his right, directly
in the path of fire, a brave young steer,
exhausted from frantic running, staggered,
believing piteously, and fell.
This proved the signal for attack. Major
Weston was out of his saddle in second
Two of his men followed him. With sharp
knives the disabled steer was severed in
twain and the end of a rope was fastened
to each hoof Rope in hand, the major