Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-03-18
Beyond the Outer Pale.
cUaRAN RICHARD GREENIEYS
Copyright C. Greenley) I
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The hot winds bore up from the south over
the waste of sand. sagebrush and prickly
pear, blasting the stunted mesquite that
struggled to cast a pitiful shadow over the
arid earth. Forester slipped from his sad
die and loosened the cinches, throwing the
reins loose on the spotted bronchos neck A
white line threading the dry arroyo told
where the stream had BEEN parched now'
as the very skies seemed parched above.
Forester stood, stalwart figure OF
strength against the brown-yeiiow dur OF
background, where the wind-scarred mesa
rolled up to the world line. Under the
slouched sombrero his strong-lined, deter
mined face was set grimly as the quick.
dark eyes swept the herd of longhorns
struggling to westward in scattered punches.
All quiet; but he knew that no idle purpose
had brought that warning to him the night
before. when Flying Bird, old Crazy Snakes
new suuaw stole up to the gate OF the cor
raj and sent for him to come out ana near
it under cover of the darkness.
1t would be no child's play and Forrester
lost no time. He had ridden all day, warn
ing the outriders at their posts and doing
what he could for the protection OF men anu
cattle.' He had not allowed himsei1 10 yle ven
to the wild rush of thoughts that croWueu
upon him until now, when he drew forth a
bit of paper that had ratified against nus
chest all day with unpleasant lnslstence:
almanac "Forrester look out for trouble.
The agency will be attacked nrst. Get
troops" And below it was the sympol OF d
famous fraternity. Rod FORESTER femem
bered those slashing upstrokes, tnougn
matter of ten years had passed since last ne
saw them. He strove to recall the little ne
had learned of Jim Danes disappearance.
There had been some wild story current III
the college as to Danes origin, mere sur
mise to which he had given no thought.
Dane and he were inseparable until the sum
mer when Marion Anthony came 10 Visit her
brother Roger; then they had drlfted apart
Forester had no chance in the race with
Danes headiong wooing that swept all De
fore 1t. There was a dull twinse sun re-
maining of the passionate pain OF those
summer days, the drag OF the last exami-
nations and then he had turned his back
on college days forever. Five years later
in a little frontier town, he ran across JACK
Derng. and in the raking over OF OLD .ii1es
Danes name came up and Dering told MN
of the collapse Of old John Danes millions
in the great mine failure, and worse, the
sudden blazoning of Danes history through
the effort of an enterprfsing reporter
when Jim Dane, class orator, fraternity
man, champion stroke and halfback. was
proclaimed an illegitimate half-breed, the
child of Comanche girl whom old pane
had lured from her tribe to cast adrift IN
the streets of San Francisco; but he kept
the boy and moved by some vagrant I'M
pulse of fatherhood, brought him up as his
acknowledged son, and heir to his millions.
Dering did not mention Marion Anthony,
but added that Jim Dane had disappeared
the night that his story was made public
He said that Tom Barnwell claimed to have
run across Dane during trip through the
wild lands of the southwest, and that he
was living the life of blanket Indian,
having returned to his mothers tribe.
Now, out of the limbo of dead life, Dane
had sent Flying Bird with that warning
message, signed with the sign of their
brotherhood. Forester forgot the cattle
In the rush of bitter memories that soiled
scrap of paper conjured out of the dead and
buried past. Marion Anthony, no longer a
girl, was somewhere in the world that he
and Dane and left behind Dane was worse
than dead, and himself-well! His life was
a clean, albeit lone one. He had come
to love the long low reach of plain and
sky, the brooding mystery of the haunted
mesas where the old race beckons to the
new across uncounted years. The tang of
the border had bitten deep into his life
blood, with it's warp of color life and move
ment. Its wool of tragedy and sudden
death, of vocal silences where the finger OF
God has stopped to write its messages in
hidden places.
He came to himself with a start as Red
Juan galloped toward him. Danes warn
ing told that the danger was imminent.
Forester had known for some days that
the Indians were restless rumors of ghost
dancing and secret powwowS had sifted to
him through the half-breeds about the
ranch end he had no doubt that the at
tack would be made that night in grim
earnest. He had started a messenger to