The Van Buren press., 1904-08-06


Emory crossing the room to take Graeu
Blanchard In his arms; Emory with
passion paling his face and Grace
Blanchard in the beauty OF disturbing
humility.
He cursed as he watched them cling
to each other, and he cursed his way
back to the saloons and his Mariposa
mining.
The next Cay he turned up again in
the settlement, with liquor enough
aboard to put a wheel IN his head, and
after losing fling at the tables. he
started to find Emory.
After a little Intellectual riding, he
leaped from the back OF his yicious-eyed
piebald at the corner that bulGed thick
est with saloons, and stood close to
the stirrup with his hand on his hip.
Some one who noticed him said his face
had the steely intensity Of a razor
edge.
Then out Of the crowd, unconscious,
with the music of love in his heart,
swung New Emory His hat was pushed
back on his fair hair, and he was
whstlng the overflow out of his veins.
"In one instant bullet rang through
the air followed by another. Emory
fell in his own blood, and a horseman
was riding off wildly and safe through
the shower OF bullets that rained around
him. Every man with cayuse tore in
pursuit, but they only brought back
eight half-dead horses. Stokes had
staked relay beasts at different points
along the road, and was then safe in the
chaparral canyons toward the north.
The gambling dens choked up with
the crowds; gold-dust was heaped on
god-dust for the reward of the cow
ardly hound. Murderers weren't rare
then but there was only one New En-
ory, remember.
-Four of us wouldn't drop the search,
We let the blood money men get out Of
the way, and then we worked as we'd
toll for only cur own.
There was scarcely any scent to fol
low, for Stokes had bribed the greasers
who furnished his horses; but we forced
our way along on nothing. Day and
night we rode with our eyes open, some
times bullying and sometimes begging.
1t began to seem hopeless. The days
were running into summer again.
"One afternoon, toward twilight, We
rested on the crest Of mountain where
the path took a sudden turn away from
a 2O0-foot precipice.
"Ws were torn with the swapping
branches Of the greasewood, ard full OF
EXTREMIST dirt and disgust Suddenly
we heard the rustic of a step on the
fallen leaves. Under a live oak, not 80
yards away, on the very edge OF the cliff,
stood Shorty Stokes. He had not heard
us. and he stood looking at the moon
which hung a sickle in the hot sky
The evening star was showing,
THE four Of us were like stones, He
could go to Guinea before motion d have
come to us, Then, simultaneously with
our steps forward, he turndl and looked
into our faces.
TT was a moment TO test the nerve
Of any man. He stood It as we were
used to seeing him face all things,
"I suppose I'm the man you're
after, he said.
He said it with the dignity Of par
son.
In second he had thrown down his
pistols He unsheathed his knives and
dropped them to the ground,
Take me- he said.
-Four Of us looked into the unflinch-
ing clearness of his eyes, AS we hesi-
tated he spoke again,
"Listen. 1t Is NOT in excuse that
speak, nor In weakening 1t is to tell
you that those among you who are men
will follow my steps under like CirCum.
stances.
Emory gave me his hard and his
oath, in the manner OF his frankness, to
stand by an arranged agreement,
1--WE were to meet at eight O'Clock
on that Sunday nigh, "A beautifully
good woman was to decide on our argu.
ment, which man she would marry. In
riding to meet my engagement | hap.
pened on an accident Within half
mile Of the settlement, close onto time
my pIebald went back on his launches and
the groan OF man came UP from the
roadside. found an overloaded miner
hurt In the leg and the hope In my own
heart aroused my sympathy, mounted
the man on my beast and headed him
| back toward camp.
walk as | never walked, | reached
| the meeting place three minutes late An
-God-out In the darkness saw En-.
ory taking advantage Of the delay,
None OF you Is so much cur as TO let
the life run In man who, under his
honor couldn't yield rival three min
utes grace,
"'But, with the camp against me, and
Emory the friend of the sorriest,
couldn't face the music when the justice
was done,
"1t is not mercy ask, ltislIfe here
after Come,
with n common impulse, we started
forward only To halt In frozen horror
, rs Stokes broncho threw up his head
In alarm to watch with us the backward
somcrsaultIng Of his masters body over
the prcCipcc
Though there was but one verdict,
even Chase said as we rode down over
the mountain that night Emory might
have given Shorty few minutes
grace