The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1904-02-05

s!Rl LalI5 glance over the simmer
as pom. The stretches of cac-
tus-dotted sand glowed like a
heated oven Far across the arid
waste a chain OF mountains lay,
purple shadow against the sky. There,
somewhere, flowed the sluggish Rio
Grande, and beyond that-safety. His
eyes wandered from point to point
with hawk-like scrutiny. Only soli-
tary vulture, floating lazily far above
the dry arroyo, moved on the vast, ST.
lent expanse He had, for the present
at least outwitted his pursuers. He
picked out here and there patches of
the white road that glistened through
the chaparral and mesquite. AS he
looked yellow haze rose in the dis
lance; then the Brownsville stage
iurched into view, moved slowly
against the white glare like q clumsy
beetle, and was swallowed up by the
foliage. Presently it crawled into view
again as it labored up steep hillside,
scarce a mile off, AS it turned on to
the crest something slipped to the
ground and FAY motionless.
The stage passed over the hill. Har
din's eye became fixed on the point
at which it disappeared, expecting to
see some one return for the lost bun
die. In this he was disappointed. AT
ter a little the object in the road
moved. Hardin became keenly Curl
Gus. CHANGING quickly around to make
sure no danger threatened, he picked
his way to his horse, hid in mat Of
manzanitas, mounted and galloped
toward the road
As he neared the spot it suddenly
flashed on him that this might be
trick of the enemy to tempt him into
the open. He wheeled his bronco into
the dense underbrush and dismounted.
Holding his Winchester before him,
he crept stealthily on. He had pro-
ceeded but a short distance when a
faint cry, as of young animal in dis
tress, doated to him from the direc-
.tion of the road.
"a young wolf or bear cub" he
thought, that has tumbled over
board" But he would not turn back
otonous for him to easily forego the
prospect of diversion. Reaching the
road, he stopped and listened intently.
No sound broke the stiffness but the
faint wailing from the roadway. He
took quick glance about him, his eyes
resting obviously on the patch of road
where the stage had disappeared, then
he parted the foliage and ran noiseless-
~ to where the bundle lay. He stopped
over and threw aside the covering that
concealed it; then he stepped back and
gave vent to a low whistle. A baby
blinked up into his face. 1t stopped it's
crying suddenly with an indrawn sob,
and the next second greeted him with
friendly "ghoo-oo," as it proceeded to
kick itself free of its swaddling
clothes.
Blame my cats, young unW he ex-
claimed, his eyes hard on the road
where it wound over the crest of the
hill; " We amt the kind Of proposition
/ was lookin' fer. l can't stand yere
in the road an entertain ye, an it
don't seem like jest the proper thing to
leave We; but amt never went back
on a Teller yet as 'uZ in hole Shorely
yer friendsll miss ye an turn up fer
you fore long. But if a loafer shud
happen this way, it 'ud be the last Of
you. an jest likely as not I'd git the
credit of kidnapping We, for my tracks
is goin' to give me away. Well, they've
credited me with most everything else
q Teller oughtn't be proud of-an' we're
goes. fer better er worse; it can't make
much difference" He slipped his arm
beneath the baby, lifted it to his breast
and stepped into the brush. Here he
made sundry maneuvreS to conceal his
tracks, regained his horse, and spurred
for his hiding place. Meantime he had
kept the baby quiet "boo-booing." tick
ling it in the ribs with the muzzle of
his revolver, and addressing to it spec
ulative remarks as to the outcome of
their "blamed uncommon pickle"
Safe again within the protection of
his lookout, he made the baby COM
Portable on an old coat, laid it in the
thin shade of ledge of rocks, and, sit.
ting down opposite, began to regard ii
with 1uizzical air of perplexity.
"Well, young un, Eve been guilty of
many fool thing in my day. but this
caps 'em. What I'm goin' to do with
YES more'n can savvy-"
Goo! .goor' cooed the baby, seem