The Lamar register. [volume] (Lamar, Colo.) 1889-1952, 1908-08-12

| You can hear the story told almost
any sunny day. If you Will linger in
the little 'dobe squares or along the
roads that are in the yicinage of Ilde-
| fonse, where the air is SO dry and
light that there is nothing to breathe
for, and there is sun, and sun, and
the only material things are the dark.
clear-cut shadows on the light sand.
San Miguel-a hundred dirty. red
'dobe houses. an old mission. end a
great square-lies to the south and
west of Ildefonse. on the very edge
of the never-changing desert of yellow
sands. At Ildefonse there are boards
and sidewalks, and some of the houses
have even floors in them; but at Mi
guel this is all left behind and there
is only the atmosphere of the old
'dobes with the clay floors, the crum-
bling mission. and absolutely naught
to suggest the year or the century.
Bradley, the northern doctor, came
to Miguel because of many things, ac-
cording to the people of the village.
He was bank robber, this blue-eyed
man of the north; he had killed a
man; he had weak lungs: he was
there to write OF the old mission; to
let, the modern world of the eastern
and northern states know how near
they were to the seventeenth cen
fury and the miracles of the church.
The reason for Bradley's presence
In Miguel was quite inconsequential
and trivial. Miguel was 200 miles
from the railroad. So Bradley came.
There was peace and rest. long sun
ny days and cool nights. during which
Their, was nothing to do but sit in
long chair and soak In the joy of liv-
ing, and this is what Bradley needed.
But the fact which is of Importance
Is that 1t was at Miguel that Bradley
met Meta.
Bradley had dreamed of Meta for
the better half of his life. He had
dreamed of her while a boy at school;
she had followed him through his
medical studies. to Germany. where
his education was completed. and all
through the rest of his 81 years. He
went to balls where the women were
by all accorded the palm for beauty
and found himself wondering why
none of them were like Meta. He
was entirely practical. was Bradley.
good share OF the time, else he would
have been married long ago.
This discovery in itself was moth
ing so remarkable. for many a man of
the north has found in the eyes of the
girls Of Meta's people that for which
he searched long and vainly among
the maids of his own north. Many
men have done so-and forgotten.
Bradley was different.
In the daytime Bradley was one of
the few Americanos of the new quarter
of the town as a matter of form. He
dressed for dinner and kept his face
clean and his clothes white. But when
the shadows of the 'dobe houses
grew long in the plaza and the cool
hush of night called the people from
within the doors. Meta and her lover
sat on the roof bench of the 'dobe
house and communed in the tongue
which is peculiar neither to Saxon or
Castilian. Sometimes Meta sang the
love songs of her own tongue. and
then the people on the roofs two
houses away heard a strong. subdued
voice go haltingly through the chorus.
Then, one day. Bradley was called
away to professional duty. and Meta
was left alone to wait for the return
Of her lover. 1t was TO Sangre De
Cristo that Bradley went. Sangre De
Cristo is on the other side of the I'M
trailed desert from Miguel. The road
around is five days long. and no man
was there alive who could say he
had journeyed through the sands
since the wells were dried up.
There was a distemper of some kind
at Sangre De Cristo. Was 1t possible
that 1t was the little plague? Pray
the good saint whose picture hung
on the mission wall that 1t was not.
But would the great doctor from the
north come with his great wisdom and
bag of medicines to look upon the
faces Of the sick at Sangre De Cristo
and make them we'll? 1t was the old
padre who sent the word. The pro-
fessional instinct was developed strong
in Bradley.
Il must go. dear heart" he said
to Meta. 1T will not be long. II you
need me. call for me, and l will hear;
l know I will"
The conditions at Sangre De Cristo
were much worse than the messen-
ger had told. There was much fever
there. the people were stark with
fright, and the sanitation was awful
But the poems were slow to think
and slower to act. They were safe
now. OF course. the senior of The
Medicines was here. They had no fur
Their concern in the matter, the senior
be blessed thousand times. So they
resigned themselves, like children, to
the care of Bradley. Bradley was al
most alone, for the padre was old
and feeble. 1t was week before he
had affairs adjusted SO that he might
sleep with an easy conscience
Possibly there was something In the
quiet blue night air of the old mission
house, the air of rest and sleep in
walls 300 years old, that oppressed
Bradley. Perhaps there was some
thing in the wind that came over the
yellow sands from Miguel. Bradley
found himself sitting upright in the
middle of the night, uncertain whether
he had slept or not. He was talking
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