The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1913-05-17
The Fortunes of the La11drayS
n. s:c:m By Vaughan Kester ~ . Ss.r ''~
F. e. NICHOLSON, ! Hx.
J. G. PIERCE,
Auo1eg q 'IAo HUodtGa1 JadOe"
~y0st md tho Un3uoGt- 80.

, dropped the moment before.
mo, 1t was mine," said Bushrod
why didn't you call me, Steve?
They were grateful to have something
to talk Of
You were asleep, and we'll.
couldn't sleep, 30 what was the use
OF calling YOU"
They could see now indistinctiy
what was passing below them; mere
ly dark cluster of huddled men anc
horses. where they waited for day to
come; but with the first streaks OF
yellow light the plains resounded with
the beat of hoofs
Half an hour passed. and then Walsh
pitched forward without q word OF
eroan, shot through the heart; an In
slant later Bushrod put aside his
rife.
you'll have to finish It," he said
shortly to his brother. and held up
his right hand; his wrist had been
shattered by ball. He locked st the
hurt member for moment consider
ing what he should do; and then be-
gan moodily to wrap 1t in long strips
OF cloth which he cut with his hunt
ingknife from the front OF his shirt.
The sun rose higher and higher In
the sky. until its rays fell vertically
on the three men and the child.
Stephen and Rogers, their faces black
with powder stains and their lips
parched and swollen, intently watch
ed the enemy. from time to time they
warily raised themselves on their
knees and made a hasty discharge OF
rtA no 10 enth AH n
side. helped him TO load; his little
face. pinched with suffering and ter
ror. was streaked with sweat and
CRIME. At stephens elbow, Bushrod,
working clumsily with his uninjured
hand performed the same offices for
his brother; thus they managed to
keep two rifles always loaded. In
this manner the morning passed.
The Californian's fire had slackened
by imperceDtible degrees; now each
time his gun was loaded IL was jerked
recklessly to his shoulder and dis
charged without aim; his dark eyes
lighted wildly, he began to sing the
emigrants song:
oh. California,
That's the land for me,
I'm bound for San Francisco
With my washbovl on my knee"
AT hrst ne sang the words under
his breath, grooming them softly over
and over to himself then the song
grew louder and louder until he fin
ally beloved the words In deep rug
ged bass. The sound cut like a
knife, and Benny shrapk from his
side In alarm.
BE still. Rogers" ordered Stephen
sharply.
why the hell do you want me to
Keep still? I'm letting EN- know how
gay we feel" and he began TO sing
again:
II soon shall be In Frisco 5s;s,,s.s....;.,,,
And then I'll look all around"
II tell you. Rogers, keep still"
cried Landray.
The Californian paused and glared
at him vacantly.
Rogers" he repeated slowly,
who's talking about Rogers? That's
"a good joke; Rogers is dead--the
AsSuohihs uOhN iOI nliu HAuuSOUuo, Oue
first he killed ten of the devils. They
stripped on his shirt and cut ten
gashes In his back. and then they
stabbed him ten times. and drove a
stake In his eye and filed the hole
with powder and blew his skull to
pieces. That's the trick they played
Rogers. He seemed 10 dwell on this
horrible fancy with positive delight.
Rogers was a numbering cuss any
how, but God Almighty fixed 1t 30 he
got come up with all right" While ne
was speaking he had half risen to mis-
feet, but now he squatted down once
more Benny thrust the stock OF a
rife toward him, his hands closed
about II instinctively: he seemed TO
be recalled TO himself. Keep low,
son." he cautioned. they shant
serve us as they served Rogers. Pres
emily we'll be on the move
But Benny. wideeyed and brighten.
ed, and not comprehending the change
that had come over him. only shrank
further and further away. An instant
later the Californian dropped his gun.