The Globe-republican., 1908-08-13

quite impossible in this day and age
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 vicinage of llde
| 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 and a
great square-lies to the south and
west Of lldefonse, 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 a 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 We're 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
there was nothing to do but sit in a
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 it 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 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,
but Meta was in his dreams for a
good share of the time, else he would
have been married long ago.
This discovery in itself was moth
ing so remarkable, for many man of
the north has found in the eyes Of the
girls of Metas 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 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, NSta 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 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 distemper of some kind
at Sangre De Cristo Was it possible
that it was the little plague? Pray
he good saint whose picture hung
On the mission wall that it was not,
But would the great doctor from the
north come with his great wisdom and
Dag of medicines to look upon the
aces of the sick at Sangre De Cristo
and make them well? 1t was the old
padre who sent the word. The pro-
essional instinct was developed strong
n Bradley
81 must go, dear heart he said
o Meta. 1T will not be long. If you
reed me, call for me, and | will hear;
know / will"
The conditions at Sangre De Cristo
we're much worse than the messen-
ger had told. There was much fever
here, the people were stark with
right, and the sanitation was awful.
But the poems were slow to think
md slower to act. They were safe
low. OF course, the senior Of The
Medicines was here. They had no fur
her concern in the matter, the senior
,e blessed a thousand times. So they
esigned themselves, like children, to
he care of Bradley. Bradley was al
most alone, for the padre was old
md feeble. 1t was a week before he
lad affairs adjusted SO that he might
leep with an easy conscience.