The Winslow mail., 1913-06-14

grlmy glass Of her single window de-
pressed and heartsick. The low,
rolling hills, bare and desolate,
stretched to the horizon, the grass al
ready burned brown by the sun The
town itself consisted of but one
short, crooked street, fanked by
rough, ramshackle frame structures,
two-thirds of these apparently sa-
looms, with dirty, tapping tents sand
wiched between, and huge piles of
tin cans and other rubbish stored
away behind. The street was rutted
and dusty, and the ceaseless wind
swirled the dirt about in continuous,
suffocating clouds. The hotel itself,
little, squatty, two-storied affair,
groaned to the blast, threatening to
collapse. Nothing moved except
wagon down the long ribbon of road,
and dog digging for bone behind
nearby tent. 1t was so squalid and
ugly she turned away in speechless
disgust.
The interior, however, offered even
smaller comfort. A rude bedstead, one
leg considerably short and propped up
by a half brick, stood against the
board wall; single wooden chair was
opposite, and a fy-specked mirror
hung over a tin basin and pitcher The
floor sagged fearfully and the side
walls lacked several inches of reach
ing the ceiling. Even in the dim
candle light of the evening before, the
bed coverings had looked so forbid
ding that Molly had compromised, ly-
ing down, half-dressed on the outside;
now, in the garish glare of returning
day they appeared positively filthy
And this was the best to be had;
she realized that, her courage failing
at the thought Of remaining alone
amid such surroundings. AS she
washed, using towel of her own after
a single glance at the hotel article,
and did up her rebellious hair, she
came to prompt decision. She would
go directly on-would take the first
stage. Perhaps her father, or whom
ever he sent, would be met with along
the route. The coaches had regular
meeting stations, so there was small
danger of their missing each other.
The question of possible danger was
dismissed almost without serious
thought. She had seen no papers
since leaving ST. Louis, and the news
before that contained nothing more
definite than rumors of uneasiness
among the Plains Indians. Army off,
GERS interviewed rather made light of
the affair, as being merely the regular
outbreak of young warriors, easily
suppressed. On the train she had met
with no one who treated the situation
as really serious, and, If it was, then
surely her father would send some
message of restraint. Satisfied upon
this point, and fully determined upon
departing at the earliest opportunity, |
she ventured down the narrow, creak-
ing stairs in search Of breakfast.
The dining-room was discovered at |
the foot of the steps, a square box of
a place, the two narrow windows look |
ing forth on the desolate prairie.
There were three tables, but only one
was In use, and, with no waiter to
guide her, the girl advanced hesitating-
ly and took a seat opposite the two
men already present. They glanced |
up, curiously interested, staring at her
a moment, and then resumed their in
terrupted meal. Miss McDonald's crit
Ical eyes surveyed the unsavory-look-
ing food, her lips slightly curved, and
then glanced :nquiringly toward the
men. The one directly opposite was
q nd Xxyifh hot
and beard, about sixty years of age,
but with red cheeks and bright eyes,
and a face expressive of hearty good
nature. His clothing was roughly
but he looked clean and
The other was an army
lieutenant, but Molly promptly
1uelched her first inclination to ad-
dress him, as she noted his red, in
famed face and dissipated appearance
AS she nibbled, half-heartedly, at the
food brought by slovenly
waiter, the two men exchanged barely
4 dozen words, the lieutenant growing
0ut monosyllabic answers, finally push
ing back his chair, and striding out.
Again the girl glanced across at the
1IuGI HAL, 1uuSIGIIuS courage TO dQ-
dress him. At the same moment he
looked up, with eyes full of good hui
NOR and kindly interest.
Looks rather tough, I reckon,
MISS" waving big hand over the
table. But you'll have ter git used
to it in this kentry."
"Oh, do not believe ever could"
II can scarcely choke
down a mouthful"
$50 was noticin'; from the East, l
reckon?"
"Yes; II came last night, and
and really am afraid am actually
homesick already. lit is even
primitive than I supposed.
Do-do you live here-at Ripley?"
Good Lord, mol" heartily, though
[ reckon yer might not think my home
wuz much better. I'm the post-trader
down at Fort Marcy, jist out O. Santa
Fe. I'll be blame glad ter git back
thar too, I'm tellin' yer"