The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1904-07-29
VOL. XLIx--NO. 81

to the man who had carried his son over
the hills III the early morning, to give him
the last rites of his church. Then he slip
ped ont again, as quietly rs he had en-
tered, and was leaning over the rough
wall of the cemetery when the peon came
| out.
They had queer fascination for him,
these cemeteries of Spanish America. He
frowned musingly as his eyes wandered
to the corners of the enclosure, where lay
the bones of the evictcd dead, dug ccoly
from their graves and flung here as ref
use, because their grave rental was past
| due.
Savage CUSTOM" MarSdcn muttercd,
and forgot the dishonored bones as the
peon came again into his line of vision.
| He lmped slightly, and stopped as
! though years of toll had Stiilencd him, as
| he went toward the little stone building
ut the end of the cemetery, scarcely to he
| termed a receiving vault, being barren Of
everything save four walls and roof,
! and in which the dead were thrust until
| there were enough Of them to bury at
once.
When he came ont, leaving the flower
wreathed box behind him, the American
barred his path, staring at him curiously.
Good morning, my friend 1t occurs
to NE that you have considerable nerve"
Like fash the weary stoop vanished,
and the limping peon was a tall half
bread with scowling brow, erect and
muscular.
"Scnor Americana" lie responded,
jauntily, and squared his shoulders in
cool defiance. but the CLEAN in his eyes
was not pleasant as he took in the prob
able chances of escape or capture. A
group of men were coming down the
road the Padre was just leaving the
church door.
"Why did you do it ?" Marsden asked,
steadily.
why not, Senior? Is the son of Il bri-
gand to he thrown out on the hillside,
like dog?"
but his narrowing eyes were measuring
the distance between himself and the
Americana, and again to the group of
men who walked between him and the
hills.
"You were fortunate to escape, Senior.
Where Pedro Gonzales strikes he also
kills, that no man may point TO him and
say, That man is Pedro Gonzales, the
robber"
The Americana gave no attention. He
was rubbing his shoulder thoughtfully,
and looking beyond at the little stone
house of the dead.
The woman's voice was mistakenly in
his ears. He guessed now for what she
had been pleading. and what had lain on
the bed in the dark conner. He turned
his gaze back to the halfhreed as though
he WIS studying some curious psycholo-
gical phenomenon.
81 think you'd better be going, lie sug-
geSted, casually, grim smile pulling at
the corners of his mouth The climate
of the valley is not healthy for persons
accustomed to dryer air, especially rob.
bers. If we should meet in town, have
a poor memory for faces you know, but
if ever see you again in the hills, l shall
probably shoot YOU
A look of uucomprehend!rg wonder
spread over the half-breed's face, but
flashing smile of intelligence followed it.
The tall figure dropped again to its aged
stoop, and limped painfully past Mars
den, making for the road and liberty.
The Senior is good enemy" floated
back over his shoulder. at is pleasant
to fighs brave man. Adios."
He passed the group on tie road safe
~, and a moment later vanished into
the tangle of trees and brush leading into
the hills.
AT dawn the next morning Il saddled
horse was found before the Padres door
and there was great wonderment in that
village when Marsden recognized it as his
own, but the Americana kept his own
counsel. and smiled wisely to himself as
he mounted and went forth again on his
journey.