The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-10-13
A TALE OF A WOMAN HoMEsTEADER IN THE SOUTHWEST.
BY ALICE MAC GoWAN.

guard till we get back. Mellr' he
added, and the who had first spoken
stepped forward. You set right here
in plain sight of the door. Don't you
let John Broughton pass you-not If
you have to shoot him."
| The emphasis upon the last clause
was unmistakable. The intention would
nave been clear to child. 1t was
clear to the child clinging at Lydia s
skirts.
When the pursuers had clattered
down the trail the hours wore away
strangely behind that locked, barred.
little door. John standing at Blue Jim's
head, his. arm around the pony's neck,
guarding against the possibility of a
neigh or any impatient stamping, the
child part of the time clinging to his
hand. gazing at him, part of the time
following her mother about, looking
with great, unchildish eyes of compre-
hension from one face to the other
| Now Grafton had been left to keep
| guard because he was the lazy man
of the crowd, who had no itch for rid
| ing forty miles in six hours-after hav-
ing ridden hard all the night and all
| the forenoon. When he cried out plain
lively that the besieged would probably
have no desire to give him food, Lydia,
| studying the relaxed lines of his bulky
! figure through the window, frightened
with hope. She unbarred the door and
spoke to the man. 81 am perfectly
willing TO get you meal" she said
! quietly. Grafton was profuse-he was
almost pathetic-in his thanks. and
| Lydia, coming in, kindled her fire and
with desperate eagerness set about
cooking. She directed the child i'm low
tones. and the small feet ran back and
forth on willing errands. The humble
| little larder of a cabin in the plains
cattle country was ransacked, it was
entreated and cajoled and commanded
| by turns, it was conjured by skilled
hands and a desperately resolute soul
When, half an hour later. Lydia
watched from her window Grafton put
ting away the savory dishes she had
| cooked her breath came quick and I'M
even. Surely the man had not lied
| Surely he was ravenously, all-embrac-
ing, titantically hungry. She had
placed more in the big tray than she
dared hope he would consume; but dish
after dish melted beneath his ardent
advances, and a wan smile struggled
in Lydia's face, with the pale pity
which shOne in it every time she looked
at John Broughton.
rs there anything else you would
like2" she questioned kindly as she
stood beside Grafton, the tray-the
blankly empty dishes-in her hands.
eff you have a swallow or so of-well
a dram of some sort of liquor" Graf
ton began rather sheepishly. You
see, I'm sorter-"
He drew out and laid upon his fat
thigh an empty flat bottle, about
whose interior there cOasted, as he
moved it, the traditional last drop.
Yes, of course agreed Lydia hur-
riedly. You will need it. I-I'Il see >
and she hurried in, fastened the door
and murmured her explanation in
Broughton's ear. Without a word he
brought from his pocket the usua
flask. about one-third full of whisky
She took it with trembling fingers and
poured its contents into a glass. lifted
it, moved toward the door, then paused
suddenly, went back, and with hot
water and sugar brewed copious
steaming drink, over which the full
fed sentinel smacked his lips unctu-
ously.
The moon was in its second quarter
making a dim radiance, within the
canyon. 1t was four hours since the
self-constituted posse rode down the
trail. Grafton, the Waterman, the SEN
tinel, the terrible Argus, had yielded
inch by inch to the potency of Lydia's
dinner, the drink which had followed
it, and his WEAKNESS. He had at first
nodded as he sat. Then, having we'll
night fallen over once or twice, he
arose and, after careful survey of his