The Baltimore County union, the Towson news., 1909-12-11
Ordered Up Into Nineveh.
(From Ainslee's }

Urdered up into uneven.
(From Ainslee's)
The pack train crawled upward
with great labor, for the day was end
ing and there had been eight hours
of work for the mules, with close to
three hundred pounds in the packs
The beasts were carrying crude ore,
in which the gold nestled, to the great
crushing machines of Nineveh, high
in the Cordilleras of South America,
Silent in the dusk above, the town
lay like lizard curled about a hot
rock. All was heat, all stiffness there.
but the rocky trail rang with the slip
ping and the sliding of the mules.
A woman rode the bell-mare. She
had no saddle, but sat upon blan-
ket cinched about the cross old gray
leader. The woman was not used to
horses, but she had missed the stage,
and she was getting up into Nineveh
the thing for her to do. She scarcely
felt the blasts of heat in the gloom,
nor heard the words Of the crude but
excellent men about her.
She was looking for man in Nine
veh-a man whom she had once loved
and married. She alone had received
the clue of his hiding place and it
was her purpose now to bring him
back to the States, to the laws of men,
and to those of God afterward.
The boss packer reined up beside
her on his SADDLE mule, dismounted,
caught her foot and arm, lifting her
down as easily as a sack of grain.
''Your blankets comm apart bit,
lady," he said. THE old mare light
ems up in long hike like this. We
all do. She needs cinchin' again, It's
only a mile up to the town, but we
don't want you hurt-after takin' care
of you all day."
He chucked her on freshly folded
blanket. She thanked him-a tired
woman with her heart full of miser-
able storms and no dawnings.
Nathan Reeder had made the world
call him wolf. He had even, at the
last, estranged himself from the wom-
an who had loved him, and left her
in shame and poverty. He was
young; a man who had lived beauti-
full and desperate moments in a sim
gle hour. In one of the latter, he had
forged and fed to this American min
ing colony in the Andes. Only the
woman knew where he had gone.
There was big reward for him. In
the anguish and rebellion of the first
hour, in the pressure of actual hunger,
she had taken commission from a
detective agency to bring him back.
And SO she went up into Nineveh.
It was like Western mining town,
save for the Spanish touch upon the
meagre buildings, and the white coat
ed natives in the streets, and the SER
vice and the slavery. She found a
house in which there was no bar; but
the bars and the gambling houses
were all about. From across the
street, voices reached her as she sat
in her room that night. At last she
heard his voice, the voice of the man
she wanted. She sat listening, a
mighty beating in her heart.
"Talk as you want, Jim; but there's 8
nothing like sweet woman to go to,
when you're tired and hungry-not in
the stomach, but in the heart"
He spoke in quick, careless way,
which she knew well to mean that he
was desperate unto mania.
You win, ] m. The money s
yours. AS Twas saying, we're a lot OF
Ishmaelites out here, making beastly
cash. Tell me any good of money
without lady? Not lady, but the
lady? There's only one for any man
that lives. / murdered the heart Of
mine. The moneys yours, again
You'd better quit, now, because III
get it all back. You'll have to go a
long way to break this bank. I'm
rancid with money"
The other answered, but his voice
though heavier, did not penetrate
The woman heard her own again:
when we get money, we import
champagne, Jim. Beer is jus. as
good. Water is better still. What
kids men are when they are left alone
babes with toys they tire OF, one
after another, and all futile as hell
Why, once, Jim, up on the prairies o
the better continent. there was
morning when drink of red liquor
charged with vitriol that would burr
the nap off your coat sleeve, was
worth more to me than anything
money can buy in Nineveh this night
And now I've got nothing but money
and I'll get yours. Painted pape
and stamped metal We need
woman three times day to keel
sweet, and then we throw them up
Look at the men about, Jim-isn't /
SOP | told you I'd take your money
Jim, if you kept on ]"
There was just the murmur from
the faro outfit for many seconds, ant
then scornful laugh from Nat Reede
that pierced the way to the woman
heart.
Painted paper and stamped meta
and l lost my sweetheart and m
soul to get it You're friend c
mine, Jim Smallidge, and may neve
learn this lesson of mine. But ifyo