The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1910-09-24
The Storm Without,

stepped outside the door was that at
all hazards they must go back. The
! wind almost swept her away; only the
steadying grasp of the boy, better pre-
| pared than she for the attack of the
storm, enabled her to keep her feet.
Yet the presence Of that CHASTITY thing
on the floor which was affecting even
her iron nerve, prevented their return.
Whatever happened they must go on!
The door Of that shelter was closed
to them forever by the dead or dying
tenant. She realized however, that
their chances Of escaping freezing to
death in this mad endeavor were 80
small as to be practically none. Well,
fate had forced her into this position.
She would follow the path she had
chosen, whatever might be at the end
of the way.
Speech was we'll nigh impossible.
The boy staggered on past the win
| dow, and she followed until the lee
a great drift and the wall, in a little
open space the horses were tied.
The boy was a natural horseman.
He had picked out the best two bron-
cos in the camp. II any animals could
take them to safety, these could. Not
yet chilled by the fierce cold, they
united the shivering, reluctant, terri
fled horses from the wooden pins driv-
en- into the chinks between the log
walls of the house to which they had
been hitched, mounted them, and
threading their way round the drift
started southwark on their awful ride.
They left death behind them-and 10!
death doomed before and on either
hand.
Except where the storm was broken
by houses, drifts had not yet formed.
The wind was too terrific; it swept
the level prairie clean. But away
from the shelter Of the house they got
the full force Of it. Although they
were thickly clad in wool and fur, the
pressure of the storm drove their gar
ments against their bodies, and soon
filled them with icy cold. There was
no help for it, no relief from it. They
had to bear it. They could only bend
their backs to it and keep on, trust
ing to the endurance Of their horses.
The woman judged that it had been
about one in the morning when they
ran through the station at three. No
horses that lived could have made
that Is miles in two hours under those
conditions. 1t was more than prob.
able, however, that the limited would
be greatly delayed by the storm, and
II they kept going steadily they would
be likely to catch it. At any rate,
when they reached the station. they
would find food, fire and shelter
II their horses did not give out. If
they were not turned adrift on foot
in the storm and snow, and left to plod
on until they fell and slept, and froze,
and died, they would perhaps get
away.
| More experienced than the boy, all
these possibilities were present to her
She did not pray, she could ask moth
ing of God; but she went warily and
carefully, helping the horse where she
could.
AS for her companion, he did not
give these matters very much consid-
GRAFTON. He kept going toward the
south to the railroad station because
that was the only thing to be done.
Another, however, rode with him. II
not with her. Before his eyes was
ever present that CORY, grizzly spec
tacle of human form. the red blood
yelling from its breast, redder still
from the white snow with which he
was surrounded. That awful figure
beckoned him on. He was younger,
finer, better, than she. He was more
fool than knave; she was all knave.
Her thoughts went forward to what
was before her; but his went back
ward to what was behind.
After long time it seemed to them
that the fierceness of the storm was
somewhat abated. The wind was GER
tainly falling; but the drifts were
steadily rising. and their progress
/ was more difficult every moment for
that cause. Their very souls we're
numb with the awful cold. Still they
F. ...s