Golden Valley chronicle. (Beach, Billings County, N.D.) 1905-1916, 1908-04-03
Sanders and the
Dream Lady
By ROY NORTON
(copyrisht.)

Ing the wife and daughter OF the pres
ident. Mccarthy disliked the waste
of time and the role of entertainer for
women.
Most of the women I have known
have been nuisance" he said audibly,
in his growing annoyance.
me, too, Mack" piped up small
voice beside him.
The superintendent looked at his
companion, Sanders, the stage-driver.
The latter, nearly four feet in height
and 13 years old, returned the gaze
unblinkingly from a pair of wise-look-
ing Irish-American eyes which belied
his age, meanwhile wrinkling his
freckles into a mass that served as
harmonious fresco below his red hair.
The train groaned and creaked
along the rails, and came to whining,
perspiring halt.
Sanders dove frantically through the
crowd and planted himself before the
platform. Down the steps surged pros.
pectors, miners. commercial travellers,
and women, humping each others legs
with bales, bundles, and bags, and all
in hurry. But it was not Sanders
day. There was none who knew him
and those who were attracted by his
shrill voice crying: "Stage-line to
Horne" paid small heed to his appeal,
and trafficked with his rival.
Here, you, Sanders" hailed Nc
Carthy's voice from the diminishing
crowd, here are some passengers for
YOU"
The wise-looking little, old face
frightened up hopefully, and he came
forward unabashed, but colored with
self-consciousness before the outburst
of merriment of the most beautiful
lady he had ever seen. He recalled in
stantly a story his father used to tell
him before he went to rest back up
there in the hills, and from then on
she became to him the Dream Lady,"
Mccarthy led the way to the stage,
assisted the presidents wife and
daughter to seat, and then deposited
his own huge bulk beside the drivers
cushion.
Sanders crawled up to his place, u.s.
ing the spokes of the wheel as a lad
der, clutched the reins in his small
hands, tripped the brake with much
effort, and started his horses with
yelp.
Mccarthy had always thrown all
the patronage to Sanders line that he
could. Mccarthy never laughed at
him, and Mccarthy was a big man.
A real superintendent who worked
many men and who was a king up
there where all those men worked.
Mccarthy was trump.
The stage-driver's mind went ram.
bling away to the stories he had READ
in the ten-cent books he had secured
from the miners, where the heroine
was always a beautiful young lady
who always fell in love with the hero,
who, if not stage-driver, was brave
young detective. They always mar
ried, and, as far as he could recollect.
lived happily ever after.
1t really seemed like a very short
drive that day, and when the stage
rolled up to the front of the superin-
tendent's Office, which had been pre-
pared as temporary home for the
visitors. Sanders was quite surprised
at the speed they had made.
The days changed for Sanders.
There was no longer a WEAKNESS in
the drag uphill from the American
to the GOlcOnda. This was because of
the Dream Lady.
There was something odd about it
all, he pondered. Mccarthy took more
pains than he used to-, because he
shaved every day, and had new hat
that he wore when not going through
the mine. The Dream Lady, too.
showed signs of the summers progress.
sion. She looked at the superin-
tendent differently, and there was
something in the look that led San.
ders to know that she saw in this
white-hatted, silent man a master of
men and things. All! he could love
her for that.
The Dream Lady didn't seem to be
as happy as she had been. and there
vas trouble between her and her
mother. The boy wondered at that,
and spent his idle time in vain specu-
iations. True, he had heard but little,
but~it was certainty that the Dream
Lady and her mother were not on good
terms. So he hated the mother.
Worst of all, Mccarthy somehow
seemed to feel the change, and San.
ders' heart ached for him with a dull.
sympathetic hurt which required con.
slant repression. OF course he couldn't
talk to the man-that would never be