The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1911-07-28

of cantonment just without the en-
virons of Carson City. Twenty min
utes later he was riding swiftly into
the northwest, bearing important
news to General Sheridan, commander
of the Department, who happened at
that moment to be at Fort Cairnes.
To Keith this had been merely anoth-
er page in a career of adventure; for
him to take his life in his hands had
Ions ago become an old story. He
had quietly performed the special
duty allotted him, watched a squad
ron of troopers trot forth down the
valley Of the Republican, received the
hasty thanks Of the peppery little gen.
eral, and then. having nothing better
to do, traded his horse in at the gov
eminent corral for fresh mount and
started back again for Carson City.
For the greater portion of two nights
and a day he had been in the saddle,
but he was accustomed to this, for he
had driven more than one bunch of
longhorns up the Texas trail; and as
he had slept three hours at Cairnes.
and as his nerves were like steel, the
thought of danger gave him slight
concern. He was thoroughly tired,
and it rested him to get out of the
saddle, while the freshness of the
morning air was tonic, the very
breath of which made him forgetful
of fatigue.
After all, this was indeed the very
sort of experience which appealed to
him, and always had-this life of
peril in the open, under the stars and
the sky. He had constantly expert
enced it for SO long now, eight years,
as to make it seem merely natural
While he ploughed steadily forward
through the shifting sand of the cou-
Ice, his thought drifted idly back over
those years, and sometimes he smiled,
and occasionally frowned, as various
incidents returned to memory. 1t had
been rough life, yet one not unusua,
to those of his generation. Born of
excellent family in tidewater Virginia,
his father a successful planter, his
mother had died while he was still in
early boyhood, and he had grown up
| cut off from all womanly influence. He
had barely attained his majority, a
senior at William and Mary's College,
when the Civil War came; and one
month after Virginia cast in her lot
with the South, he became a sergeant
| in cavalry regiment commanded by
his father. He had enjoyed that life
and won his spurs. yet it had cost.
/ r1A
| remember, and those strenuous years
Of almost ceaseless fighting, of long
night marches, Of swift, merciless
raiding, of lonely scouting within the
enemy's lines, of severe wounds,
| hardship and suffering, had left their
marks on both body and soul. His
| father had fallen on the field at Antie-
tam, and left him utterly alone in the
world, but he had fought on grimly
to the end. until the last flag of the
| Confederacy had been furled. BY that
time, upon the collar of his tattered
gray jacket appeared the furnished in
sigma Of captain. The quick tears
dimmed his eyes even now as he re.
called anew that final parting follow
ing Appomattox, the battle-worn faces
of his men, and his own painful Jour-
ney homeward, defeated, wounded and
penniless. 1t was no home when he
got there. only heap of ashes and q
few weed-grown acres. No familiar
face greeted him; not even a slave
| was left
He had honestly endeavored to re
main there. to face the future and
work it out alone; he persuaded him.
self to feel that this was his para
mount duty to the state, to the mem
DRY Of the dead. But those very years
Of army life made such a task i'm
possible: the dull. dead monotony OF
routine tho lonelines2 tha slownAsa