Bluefield evening leader. [volume] (Bluefield, W. Va.) 1906-1911, 1910-07-13
DAILY SHORT STORIES


OF catclaw and sat twitching hi
whiskers. and looking humorously at
Givens. The pony went ON eating
grass.
1t Is well to DO reasonably watchful
when q Mexican lion sings soprano
along the arroyos at shutdown. The
burden OF his song may be that young
calves and fat lambs are scarce and
that he has a carnivorous desire for
your acquaintance.
In the grass lay an empty fruit can.
cast there by some former sojourner
Givens caught sight Of 1t with grunt
OF satisfaction. In his coat pocket
tied behind his saddle was n handful
or two OF ground coffee. Black coffee
and ctgarettes--what ranchero could
desire more?
In two minutes he had a little fire
going clearly. He started. with his
can. for the water hole. When within
fifteen yards 0f It's edge he saw be
tHeen tho bushes sidesaddled pony
wth down dropped reins cropping
grass a little distance to his left. Just
rising from her hands and knees on
the brink OF the water hole was ,Iosefa
ODonnell. She had been drinking
water. and she brushed the sand from
the palms OF her hands Ten yards
away. TO her right, half concealed by a
clump OF sacuista. Givens saw the
crouching form OF a Mexican lion. His
amber eyeballs giared hungrily. Sly
Feet from them was the tip OF the tail
stretched straight. like n pointers
His hind quarters rocked with the mo-
tion OF the cat tribe preliminary TO
leaping-
Givehs did what no could. His six
shooter was thirty-fve yards away. w.
Ing on the grass. He gave n loud veil
and dashed between the lion and the
princess.
The "rucus," as Givens called IL aft
erwnrd. was brief and somewhat con
fused. When he arrived on the line OF
attack he saw a dim streak I'm the air
and heard a couple of faint cracks.
Then a hundred pounds of Mexican
lion pumped down upon his head and
fiattened him with heavy Jar to the
ground He remembered calling out.
Let up. now; no fair gouging.' and
then he crawled from under the lion
like worm, with his mouth full OF
grass and dirt and big lump on the
back of his head where 1t had struck
the root OF n water elm. The lion lay
motionless. Givens, feeling aggrieved
and suspicious Of fouls, shook his fist
at the lion and shouted. IN rastle you
again for twenty And then he got
back to himself.
! Josefa was standing I'm her tracks
quietly reloading her silver mounted
3S caliber. 1t had not been n difficult
shot. The lions head made an easier
mark than tomato can swinging al
the end of string. There was a pro
voking, teasing, mnddening smile upon
her mouth and In her dark eyes. The
would be rescuing knight felt the fire
or his fiasco burn down to his soul
Here had been his chance, the chance
that he had dreamed of, and Menus
and not Cupid. had presided over It.
| The satyrs In the wood were nc
doubt holding their sides I'm hilarious
silent laughter There had been some.
thing like vaudeville-say, 'Signor Civ.
ems and his funny knockabout act with
the stuffed lion.
us that you. Mr.. Givens?" said 10.
scfa fin her deliberate. saccharine con.
traito. you nearly spoiled my shot
when you yelled. Did you hurt your
head when you fellT
'Oh, no." said Givens quietly. "That
didn't hurt" He stopped ignominlous-
ly and slowly dragged his best hat
from under the beast. It was crushed
ana Wrinkled to n fine comedy effect.
Then he knelt down and softly stroked
the fierce, open jawed head Of the dead
lion.
Poor old Bill~ nc exclaimed MOURN
fully.
Whats thatT asked Josefa sharp
ly.
"Of course you didn't know. Miss
Josefa," said Ovens with an air Of
one allowing magnanlmIty TO triumph
over grief. Nobody can blame you.
tried 70 save him, but culdnt let
you know I'm time" ,c.
save whoT
why, Bill I've been looking for
him all day. You see, he's been ogr
camp petfor two}years. Poor old feb
low! Hf@ouldnst have hurt a cotton
tail rabbitg tn break the boys nll up
when they hearHnbout - Bur you
couldn't teD. Of Course, that Bill was
just trying to play with you.Y
Josefa's black eyes buried steadily
upon him. Ripley Givens met the test
successfully. He stood rumpling the
yellow brown curIs on his head pen
sivcly In his eyes was regret. not
unninSled with a gentle reproach.
His smooth features were got 20 Pat.
tern Of indisputable sorrow. Josefa
wavered
What was your pet doing hersT
she asked. making last stand.
There's no camp near the White
Horse crossing"
THE old rascal ran awav From Damn