Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1904-01-16

~ al dDOul lnl0 I'M NhaN n DN6dh ~ A
feel that the strain of my first burst
was rapidly eating into my strength.
Almost unconsciously the creeping
up OF my pursuer had driven me TO O
speed which it was impossible long TO
maintain; my breath began to come In
fierce pants, the sweat ran into my
eyes, hot and smarting, and into my
mouth, and tasted bitter on my parched
tongue. Soon 1 was driving myself
unsparingly, though every nerve and
muscle began to crave for rest.
1 still had some strength, n I kept
1t to Its task. When / could not move
another step, then l would stop, not
until. My clothes were drenched with
sweat and chung tight, like ~strangiing
bands, about my body and limbs; my
heart thumped my ribs like a hammer;
with every swift rush of blood from 1t
my head seemed to sway and my body
to heave, yet l do not think l ran much
slower than my best.
/ had no need now to turn my head.
The steady thud of he pursuing hoofs
came easily to my ear. All sorts of odd
fancies swept across my mind; among
them that was pursued by Death on
a pale horse, and / seemed to see a
grinning skull under the bright steel
cap, and heshless fingers clasped o
the hilt of the shining sword.
Another Wild dimple Of the rolling
country opened out before me and l
saw a clump Of hurrying mounted peo-
pie riding over the far ridge.
knew them not, indeed. My eyes
were now so misty that l made them
out but indistinctly, yet a desire TO tind
myself among them n implore their
protection sprung up and fickered in
my heart. Every fiber OF my body was
now crying out against the grinding
torture l was enduring; my feet, from
which the stockings had long been
.,nv an1 lAA1 II liz nI
and swayed as l ran, yet was resolved
upon reaching those people, and bah
bled to myself that l would do so as
| made what speed was left in me.
was failing fast, and the white
horse swept closer and closer. Sudden
ly l saw a single rider darling toward
me from the oncoming group. Scales
seemed to fall from my eyes and l
knew horse and rider. Whitesock was
flying like an arrow, and Enid sat high
on the saddle, her hand outstretched,
as If to hold back the swift pursuit now
laundering at my heels.
l heard the hoarse voice of the officer
calling on mt to stop. 1t seemed as
If it came from the sky, and l turned
my head to see him towering above me.
l know not what wandering impulse
Of resistance caused me TO draw my
knife, but / did, and at once his great
horse seemed TO leap at me like a huge
BEAST OF prey. L saw MS lldSIllB SWOIu
swing up, and raised my feeble knife
to ward the coming blow; the Weapon
described a great, cleaning arc In the
sunlight and descended with terrible
force, beating down my poor guard,
and stretching me along the turf.
Had he used the edge l had never
written this story, but, his only object
being to capture me, he had given me
the fiat Of his sword, and l was no
more than bruised. AS in q dream l
saw Enid slide swiftly from the mare
and run TO me, her hands outstretched.
| made shift 10 smile as she flung her
self down beside me and say l was not
hurt. Then up dashed Jack Locking
Jack Locking, of all men in the world,
and began TO speak earnestly with the
officer.
Sheer rest. mere LYNX still, after that
terrible spin, seemed an exquisite de-
light, though every muscle was strain
ed and aching. Enid held me close, and
whether ] slept from exhaustion or be-
came unconscious l cannot say, but 1
lost sense OF my surroundings for a
while. When / anne to myself again
some time must have passed, for Sir
John and his son had arrived, and Jack
locking was declaiming against them
at the top Of his voice.
"Warrants!' cried Jack, in grandest
scorn; waste paper, Sir John, waste
paper! give them their proper name.
DO I not tell we that George Monk has
declared in London for the king. Your
day is over for ever. The whole coun-
try is in an uproar of JOY as fast as the
news spreads. l am the first man out
Of oxford with it, this way. Just after
! got into Butley in comes the landlord
from yonder house, and we knew where
Geoff was. l warrant we we were not
long in getting some true old hearts to
horse
A loud huzza of approval burst from
Adam Bell, Roger Thorne a a
dozen other old riends of mine
"A mere c%oZening trick" growled
Jack P~Ostgate.
"COzening," roared Locking, "cozen-
ing, do % ay, Jack Postgate? Then
posts are riding hot with bloody spur
on every road in England, all cozened."
At this moment the officer turned his
horse and trotted away,
Look there" cried Jack Locking.
II believes it. IT'S like enough he has
his own reasons for not being sur
prised. 'Tis no time for him and his
men to be away from their regiment,
and he knows It,"
, The departure OF the officer settled
the matter. The P~ostgates FASTENED to
follow him, n my friends crowded
about me.
Come, Mistress Heathcote," said
/, Jack, busting about, "let is get your
husband to horse and have him home.
Poor old lad. his feet are a shocking
sight"-and Jack raped out a round
oath in a shaky voice against the de-
|, parting horserSn-'but he can sit on
WhitesoCk for -, that"
Siani had come by water somehow or
other, from n of the heath pools, L
expect, and l drank greedily. Enid was
!, binding up my feet with strips torn
|; from her own dress, and 1 lay there,
my head buzzing with delight and won
der.
mo more %skulking," I whispered;
home now, my love, for ever and a
/. day. Never mind that. What matter
n few cuts on the feet! IT'S our last
sacrifice to fortune"
She lifted her beautiful head and
| gave me one sweet, radiant smile, then
[ returned to her bandaging.
l shall write no more. Months have
: passed since l put the first words to
) paper, and today the snow is lying deep
over the black ring where burned the
: bonfire of last November. This is the
! final furry of winter, and already we
, have had days When the breath of
| spring was in the air. 1 am closing my
task in time for our cheerful season Of
open-life air, and, indeed, what is there
| more to tell?
The Red Men of the Dusk got clear
: away, and / have never seen or heard
l more of them. Doubtless somewhere
| down on the marches today Ieuan
/ Gwyllt is striding about his hill-farm,
. staff in hand, searching the drifts, with
Dafydd at his heels.
For ourselves, we are in the state of
those people whose empty chronicles
: prove the happy, even flow Of their ex-
t istence. Day follows day in a sweet
continuity Of pleasure. AS 1 write these
t last words 1 heal swift hoof-beats
: trampling through the snow. 1 look up
( at a smart tap on the window and there