The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1908-03-04

spaces where nothing mundane mat
ters. In such moments the voice In
terror is heard, and we commune with
the music of the spheres. Jane knew
but vaguely that such moods are but
moments, though moments big as
years; yet they pass. 1t was a mo-
ment when the cry Of passion and OF
worldly pain was hushed within her,
The heartache Of the past months
dissolved into a feeling of ecstatic
freedom. Behind those hills lay the
land of yesterday, left by her forever,
and she had come to a new lane
where all was peaceful, rhythmic.
harmonious.
Night came. The stars shone out.
The three lay down upon the mats
on the floor of the house and slept.
* IT
Days passed. The old life did not
reclaim Jane. After a few days she
went down into the town and got a
roll of manila wrapping paper. With
Goals from the fire she began to draw
pictures of Guadalupe and her a
First she did so only to please the
old people, but gradually the artists
longing for self expression came back.
only saner and truer. Then she sent
for oil colors. Jane was astonished
to find how her grasp Of medium had
grown, and how with each day she
came nearer to achieving complete
success. At last she began to paint
her picture, an old Indian woman well
coming her man home at the close of
day.
Day after day old Guadalupe and
her man Juan watched the picture.
Day by day it grew in beauty and
power. To the two Indians 1t be-
came a sacred thing.
There is good in the world so long
as two people can love like that
thought Jane, as she watched the
gentle kindness of her two wrinkled
parents.
At last the picture was finished.
Jane put it away for a time. Then,
one day, she uncovered it to see what
she had wrought. A long time she
gazed on the picture. 20, Love-" she
cried. 90, dear Love"
When Guadalupe came in she
found Jane in tears. The old woman
put her arms about the young girl
and let her cry her heart out on her
breast.
A few weeks later Juan brought a
letter for Jane. 1t was from her
picture dealer. Jane read it and put
it away. She had won. The years of
longing for this hour now seemed
trivial compared to the big things OF
life which the desert had taught her.
Next evening, as the three sat watch
ing the stars come out, Jane told Juan
that she had sold the picture for so
much money that if she gave him a
peso each day he would have to live
as many lives as all the men in the
section gang put together before she
could get rid Of the money. Then she
told him that he and the mother
SuOulO AdfC ohJ - SnSy "~AsNN
so long as they both lived.
"Will you always stay with u.s."
asked Juan.
Eyes," said Jane, "and I shall take
ARE Of Guadalupe as if she were my
own mother"
A strange light of satisfaction
came into the old Apache's eyes.
would you give me a hundred
pesos?" he asked.
Without a word Jane united her
leather purse and handed him the
money. The old Indian took the gold
pieces and put them into his tobacco
pouch.
Next morning, when Jane arose,
Juan was gone. 1t was the first time
he had left the house before break
fast. A few hours afterward the sta.
ton agent and one of the white Sec
ton hands rode up. They were both
armed. where is your man." they
asked Guadalupe, threateningly.
Il don't know" 5aid the old woman
with a shrug.
What is the NATTER" asked Jane.
"The section boss has been muir
dered," said the station agent. "He
was found dead on the track with a
bullet through his heart. We knew
right away that an Indian had done
it, because he had been scalped. We
know who done it, too, because this
here Indian only this morning bought
a rife and cartridges from one of the
Mexican section hands. And now he
has run away on the boss horse"
y s. y 4
Juan Joined his tribe. A troop of
soldiers was sent to get him. In the
Indian war that followed, the leader
of the renegade band that escaped
into Mexico was Juan, the former
paciico. He, too, had followed the
call of the inner voice.-San Fran
cisco Argonaut.