The Sauk Centre herald., 1912-09-19


| oiled grooves Of mediocrity. Bang!
like a rocket. Why, never had those
liars in the smoke-rooms recounted
| anything half SO wild and strange as
this adventure. Smugglers, card
sharps, an ancient rug, a caravan in
the desert! He turned his head and
looked long and earnestly at the little
tent. Love, too; love that had put
into his diffident heart the thrill and
courage Of Bayard. Love! He saw
her again as she stepped down from
the carriage; in the dining-room at his
side, leaning over the parapet; inef-
fably sweet, hauntingly sad. Would
she accept the refuge he had offered? ?
He knew that old Mortimer would
take her without question. Would she
accept the shelter Of that kindly root? ?
She must! If she refused and went
her own way into the world, he would
lose her for ever. She must accept!
He would plead with all the eloquence
of his soul, for his own happiness, and
mayhap hers. He rose, faced the
tent, and, with gesture not unlike
that of the pagan in prayer, registered
VOW that never should she want for
protection, never should she waptfor
the comforts of life. How he Was
going to keep such a vow was a ques-
tion that did not enter his head. Some
how he was going to accomplish the
feat.
What mattered the ragged beard
upon his face, the ragged clothes upon
his body, the tattered cloths upon his
feet, the grotesque attitude and en-
semble? The Lord of Life saw into
his heart and understood. And who
might say with what joy Pandora
gazed upon her work, knowing as she
did what still remained within her
casket?
From these heights, good occasional
ly for any mans soul, George came
down abruptly and humanity to the
prosaic question Of where would he
make his bed that night? To lie down
at the north side of the fire meant a
chill in the morning; the south side,
the intermittent, acrid breath of the
fire itself; so he threw down his blan-
ket and bags east of the fire, wrapped
himself up, and sank into slumber,
light but dreamless.
What was that? He sat up. alert,
straining his ears. How long had he
been asleep? An hour by his watch.
What had awakened him? Not a
sound anywhere, yet something had
CT rf1 1nI of c11 II
glanced over the camp. That bundle
was Ryanne. He waited. Not move
ment there. No sign of life among the
camel-boys; and the flaps Of the two
tents were closed. Bah! Nerves,
probably; and he would have lain
down again had his gaze not roved out
toward the desert. Something moved
out there, upon the misty, moonlit
space. He shaded his eyes from the
fire, now but heap of glowing en-
bers. He got up, and shiver after
shiver wrinkled his spine. Oh, no;
it could not be a dream; he was
awake. 1t was living thing, that
long, bobbing camel-train, coming d.
rectly toward the oasis, no doubt at
tracted by the freight. Fascinated,
incapable of movement, he watched
the approach. Three white dots; and
these grew and grew and at length be-
came pith-helmets! Pith.
helmets! Who but white men wore
pith-helmets in the desert? White
men! The temporary paralysis left
him. Crouching, he ran over to Ry-
anne and shook him.
nat
But George smothered the question
with his hand. Hush! For Gods
sake, make no noise! Get up and
stand guard over Fortunes tent.
There's a caravan outside, and I'm
going cut to meet it. Ryanne, Ryanne,
there's white man out there!"
George ran as fast as he could
toward the incoming caravan. He met
it two or three hundred yards away.
The broken line of camels bobbed up
and down oddly.
"Are you white lnen?" he called.
EYES," said deep, resonant voice.
"And stop where you are; there's no
hurry"
Thank God" cried George, at the
verge Of breakdown. ''ss.@,..-.
What the devil Flanagan,
here's white man in a dress-suit!
God save us!" The speaker laughed.
Eyes, white man; and there's a
white woman in the camp back there,
q white woman! Great God. don't you
understand? A white woman!" George
clutched the man by the foot desper-
ately. a white woman!"
The man kicked Georges hand away
and 'slashed at his camel. Flanagan,
and you, Williams, get your guns in
shape. This doesn't look good to me,
twenty miles from the main gamelieh.
I told you it was odd, that fire. Live
ly, now!"
George ran after them, staggering.
Twice he fell headleHg. But he
laughed as he got up; and it wasn't
exactly human laughter, either. When
he reached camp he saw Mahomed
and the three strangers, the latter
with their rifles held menacingly. For
tune stood before the flap of her tent,
bewildered at the turn in their affairs.
Behind the leader Of the newcomers
Il