The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1905-11-02

Mrs. OAK.
Lands sakes, the New Yorker said
the fat lady. Only Judith said nothing.
Mr.. Hamilton held the ribbons Of
that battered prairie stage as if he had
been driving past the judges bench
at the horse show. Furthermore, he
wore blue overalls, a flannel shirt and
sombrero, which sartorial inventory,
while it highly became the slim young
giant, added an extra comedy touch to
his role Of whip. He was as dusty as
miller; close cropped curly head,
features and clothes were covered with
fine alkali powdering, but he carried
his youth as banner streaming in the
blue. And he swung from the stage
with the easy flow of muscle that is the
reward Of those who live in the saddle
and make a fine art Of throwing the
lariat
They greeted him heartily, all but
Judith, who did not trust herself to
speak to him before the prying eyes
Of Mrs. OAK, and escaped to the house.
Chugg's latest excursion into oblivion
had resulted in a fall from the box
He was not badly hurt and recupera-
ton was largely matter of sleeping
it off," concluded Peter Hamilton's bull
letin Of the condition Of the stage
driver. So the travellers We're still ma
rooned at Dax's and the prospect of
continuing their journey was as vague
as ever.
LAST l heard Of you" said Mrs.
OAK to Hamilton, with sort Of stone
age playfulness, you was punching
cows over to the Bitter Root"
"That's true, Mrs. Dax"-he gave
her his most winning smile "but I
could not stay away from you long"
Leander grimaced and rubbed his
hands in an ecstasy Of delight at find
ing man who had the temerity to
handy words with Mrs. OAK.
'Hum-m-m-phv' she whinnied with
equine coquetry. ..'Guess it was rus
tiers brought you back as much as
me-"
Judith, who had entered the room in
time to hear Mrs. Dax's last remark,
greeted him casually, but her eyes, as
they met his, were full of questioning
fear. Had he come from the Bitter
Root range to hunt down her brother?
The thought was intolerable. Yet
when he had hidden her goodby some
three weeks ago he had told her that
he did not expect to return much be-
fore the fall roundup. She had heard
day or two before that he was again
In the Wind river country, and her
morning vigil beneath the glare of the
desert sun had been for him.
Mrs. OAK regarded them with the
mercilessness Of death watch. She
remembered the time when Hamilton's
excuses for his frequent presence at
the pOstottice had been more voluble
than logical, but now he no longer
came, and Judith, for all her deliber-
ate flow of spirits, did not quite con-
vince the watchful eyes OF, Lenders
lady. The postmistress was trife too
cheerful
"Mrs. Dax," pleaded Peter boyishly,
I'm perishing for cup of coffee, and
I've got to get back to my outfit be-
fore dark
"Oh, so on with you," whinnied the
gorgon, but she left the room to make
the coffee
Judith's eyes sought his. ''Why don't
you and Leander form a coalition for
the overthrow Of the enemy?" His
voice had dropped a tone lower than
in his parley with Mrs. OAK. It might
have implied special devotion, or it
might have implied but the passing
tribute to a beautiful woman in
country where women were few-the
generic admiration Of all men for all
women, ephemerally specialized by
place and circumstance.
But Judith, harassed at every turn.
heartsick with anxiety, had antici-
pated In Peters coming, if not solu-
ton Of her troubles, at least some evil
dence of sustaining sympathy and was
in no mood for resuscitating the peren-
NAL pleasantries anent Leander and
his masterful lady.
The shrilling Of the locusts empha-
sized their silence. She spoke to him
casually of his change of plan, but he
turned the subject, and Judith let the
matter drop. She was too simple a wo-
man to stoop to oblique measures for
the gaining Of her own ends. If he was
here to hunt down her brother, if he
was here to see the eastern woman at
the Wetmore ranch-well, "life was
lfe," to be taken or left. Thus spoke
the fatalism that was the heritage of
her Indian blood.
The thought of Miss Colebrooke at
Wetmore's reminded her Of letter for
Peter that had been brought that morn
Ing by one Of the Wetmore COWBOYS
Il forgot-there's letter for Won"
She went to the pigeonholes on the
wall that held the flotsam and 1etsam
OF unclaimed mail and brought him a
square blue linen envelope-distinctly
lady's letter.
Peter took it with rather a forced air
OF magnanimity, as if in neglecting to
present 1t to him sooner she drew heav-
lily on his reserve of patience. Tearing