The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1910-10-23
rain that left a crimson imprint upon


out the rifle and revolver, Empty
them of ammunition where can see
you. If you make false move or
he makes so much as jerk of a
muscle, the back of his head goes off. |
Quick" he concluded in savase COM
mand.
The woman crawled forward upon
her knees, quivering with overwrought
nerves and the desperation OF the sit
uation and obeyed. Sandy watched
her while his prisoner stood immo-
yable.
The cartridges fell and buried them
selves in the snow as she frantic aly
elected them with trembling fingers.
Now the AK over there" sternly or
dered the big man. Break the ham
mers off, so" he said, as she wrecked
the firearms.
Now bandage' Under his direc-
ton the two mancled hands-his own
and his prisoner's-were bound round
with strips of blanket as protection
from the cold, and caps were placed
upon their heads and they We're made.
ready.
Behind them stood that frail refuge.
that had failed in its mission OF con
cealment from the law, failed as an
asylum for the fugitive, failed as an
abiding place for him and his wife.
Back of it's heedlessly curling plume
of smoke. tier on tier, rose the crested
peaks of the Teton range, coated in
winter shrouds of effulgent white.
A madly trampled patch of snow
sprinkled here and there with red, two
men crudely bound together and wrap
ped in rags, woman on her knees
before the tent, brooding Quietudc af-
ter desperate conflict, and an open
trail
An open trail which two men faced
and down which the woman prayed TO
accompany them as they went. But
the conqueror was kindly immovable
and bade her stay there in shelter un-
til he sent for her,
81 amt fightin' women" he drawled,
| his equanimity restored. And I'm.
mighty sorry TO have ter do all this.
But, pshaw, mebbe yer husband amt
so bad off after all, and when he gifts
out of the jail-house will be a better
man. He oughter, just for the way
Won love him and fight for him. No
body never done it for me-
As they took up their strange march
Sandy knew without looking that she
had hurled her face in her arms on
the frozen snow, and the sound OF her
wailing sobs palpitantly followed them
AS they turned out of the canons shell
ter, turned out into sunless day whose
coldness had frozen the wind to sleep;
turned out toward the nearest camp
where the law might take its course,
helplessly chained together, the law
and the lawless, doomed to lockstep
il away over whitened wastes of
dreary desolation.
The day in its advancing hours
brought no cessation of exposure and
no relief from toll. Up over the iroz-
en- and icecad divide they went in
silence, the beating of their moccaslnS
on hardened spots. :heir padding on
new-blown snow, or their creaking
over frosty places always in unison,
. The very sound became weird
wearisome duet, and it seemed to each
that even their breathing had become
wheezingly rhythmic.
Noon found them with machine-like
precision keeping their pace, but IN
each of them exhaustion was creeping
upward. Each felt the chill of win
, ter but b g his suffering n dogged
: silence.
The prisoner had bitten deep into
his frosted lips to keep from moaning
with the pain that shot through his
wounded hand, and Sandy Vaihiy
strove for new means of warming his
fingers which held his pistol once
in this ndeavor, he tried to carry the
gun In his teeth, and when he with
drew the cold steel the blood flowed
from lips from which the skin had
been ruthlessly torn. He too, must
show no weakness, else this panther
in front might find fangs.
An the worst of 1t was that Sandy
was sorry for him. Maybe he was suf-
fering from that shot-wrecked hand.
He asked II It were so.
The prisoner replied with a simple
Yes"
I'm sorry. mighty sorry" said San
dy. softly. "lf could take the irons
off ia do It but I amt got a key.
Lost It somewhere"