The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1907-08-23
CHAPTER xxvII-co Continued.

she looked up DIT MIN, el1bal lo0oNN'
and stepped back across the narrow
trail, her head down again, so that ne
was free to pass. But instead Of pass
hg, she became aware that he mad
diSmOuuted,
When she looked up, he was busily
engaged in adjusting something about
his saddle, with an expression of deep
est concern in his blue eyes. His nat
was on the ground and his yellow
hair glistened where the band had
pressed it about his head.
Its that Iatigo strap he remarked,
IN a tone of some annoyance. I've
had to TX it every five miles since l
left Kanab." Then looking up at her
with a friendly smile: Dandy most
stepped on you, | reckon
The amazement of it was that, after
her first furry at the sound of his
voice and his half-seen movements up
the trail, it should now seem all so
commonplace.
ooh, no, was we'll out of his way"
She started again to cross the trail,
stepping quickly, with her eyes down,
but again his voice came, less DELHI
crate this time, and with words in
something less than ineligible Sc
quence.
Excuse me, Miss-but-now how
many miles to-whats the name Of
the nearest settlement suppose you
live hereabOuts?"
what did you say"
81 say is there any place where |
could get to stop day or so in ANA
lOn?"
"Oh-I didn't underestimate think
SO; at least, my father sometimes
but there's Elder Wardle, he often
takes in travellers"
You say your father"
"Not always don't know, I'm
sure" she looked doubtful.
"Oh, all right! I'll ask him,-if
yOu IL SllO" NE his plciCC'
It's the first place on the left after
you leave the canyon-with the big
peach orchard-Tm not going home
just yet"
He stroked the muzzle of the horse.
ooh, I'm in no hurry, I'm just look
ing over the country a little. Your
fathers name is"
ASK for Elder Razor one of his
wives will say if they can keep you
over night"
She caught something new in his
glance, and felt the blood in her face.
Il must go now-you can find your
way must co."
well, if you must go,'-he picked
up his hat,-"but I'll see you again.
You'll be coming home this evening, l
reckon"
"The first house on the left" she
answered, and stepped once more
across the trail and into the edge of
the pines.
When she knew he must be gone,
she came out again to her nook be.
side the stream where, a moment be.
fore, her dream had filled her. But
now, though nothing had happened
beyond the riding by of a strange
youth, the dream no longer sufficed.
In place of the moonlit balcony was
the figure of this young stranger
sWaying with his horse down between
the followed shoulders of the Pine
mountains and refining up suddenly to
sweep his broad hat low in front of
her. She was surprised by the clearness
with which she could recall the de.
tails of his appearance,-a boyish-look.
ing fellow, with Wide-open blue eyes
and sunbrowned face under his vel
low hair, the smallest of moustaches,
and a smile of such winning good
humor that it had seemed to force her
own lips apart in answer.
The picture of him stayed in her
mind, the sturdy young figure,-rather
loose-jointed but with an easy grace
of movement,-and the engaging nat.
uralness of his manner. But after all
nothing had happened save the pass
ing of a stranger, and she must &c
alone back to her dream. Yet now the
dream might change; strange youth
might come riding out of the east, sit
ting a sorrel horse with star and a
white hind ankle, long rangy neck
and strong quarters; and he-the
youth-would wear broad, gray
hat, with a band of silver filigree, a
scarlet kerchief at his throat, a scarlet
sash at his waist, and yellow dogskin
Chaps"
Still, she thought, he could hardly
have place in the dream. The real
youth of the dream had been of an
unearthly beauty, with rose-leaf com
plexion and lustrous curls massed
above a brow of marble. The stranger
had not been Of an unearthly beauty
To be sure, he was very good to look
at with his wide-open blue eyes and
his yellow hair, and he had appeared
uncommonly fresh and clean about
the mouth when he smiled at her.
But she could not picture him signing
the right words of love under a bal.
cony in the moonlight. He had looked
to be too intensely business-like.
CHAPTER XVIII.