The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1913-08-14
CHAPTER I.


y, viding line between the Cen.
EST tipede Ranch and their own,
WA staring mournfully into q
- summer night such as only
& the far southwestern coun.
S:S try knows. And as the four
inclined their bodies, they
Inclined also their ears, after the
strained manner of listeners who
feel anguish at what they hear. A
voice. shrill and human, pierced the
night like needle. then, with a
wall Of tortured soul, died away
amid discordant raspings: the voice
OF a photograph. 1t was their own,
or had been until one over-confident
day. when the Flying Heart Ranch
had staked 1t as a wager in a foot
race with the neighboring Cent?
pede. and their own man had been too
slow. As it had been their pride, it
remained their disgrace. Dearly had
they loved. and dearly lost it. It
meant something that looked like
honor, and though there we're ten
Thousand thousand monographs, in all
the world there was not one that could
take its place.
The sound ceased, there was an ap
proving distant murmur of mems
voices. and then the song began:
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Lift up your voice and sing"
Higher and higher the voice mount
ed until 1t reached again it's first thin,
ear-splitting pitch.
Still Bill" Slower stirred uneasily
In the darkness
"Why'n'ell don't they keep her
wound up?" he complained. Gala
gher's got the soul Of wart-hog. It's
criminal the way he massacres that
hymn"
From a rod farther down the wire
fence Willie answered him, in a boys
falsetto:
Il wonder if he does it to spite me?"
He don't know you're here" said
Slower.
The other came out of the gloom,
a little stoop-shouldered man with
spectacles.
Il amt noways sure" he piped,
peering up at his lanky foreman.
why do you reckon he allus lets
Mrs. Melby peter out on my favorite
record? He done the same thing last
night. 1t looks like an insult"
ITS nothing but his ignorance"
Slower replied. HE don't want no
trouble with you. None Of 'em do"
I'D like to know for certain" The
small man seemed torn by doubt. 1T
l only knew he done 1t a-purpose, I'd
git him. l bet l could do It from
here"
stover's voice was gruff as he com.
'mandsd:
Forget it! Amt it bad enough for
US fellers to hang around like this
every night without advertising our
idiocy by gun-play?"
They amt got no right to that
monograph" Willie averred darkly.
"Oh yes, they have; they won It
fair and square,"
Fair and square! Do you mean to
say Hump Joe run that foot-race ON
the square?"
II never said nothin' like that what
ever. I mean we bet 1t. and we lost
it. Listen! There goes Carara's
Ipiece!"
Out past the corral hoated the an
nouncement In q mans metallic syl-
lables:
1.-The Baggage Coach Ahead as
sung by Helena Mora for the Echo
Photograph, Of New York and Pa-a-ar
lris!"
From the dusk to the right of the
two listeners now issued soft Spanish
phrases.
"Madre de Dios! The Baggage Car
in 'FRONT.' T'adora Mora! God bless
Peri"
During the rendition Of this affect.
ing ballad the two cow-men remained
draped uncomfortably over the barbed.
wire barrier. lost in rapturous enjoy.
ment. When the last note had died
away. Slower reused himself reluc- |
family
Its time we was turnin' in" He
called softly. Hey. Mex!"
Isl. Senor!"
Come on. you and Cloudy. vamos!
It's ten O'Clock"
He turned his back on the Cent?
pede Ranch that housed the treasure. |
and in company with Willie, made his |
way to the ponies. Two other figures |
Joined them. one humming in a must
cal baritone the strains Of the song
Just ended.
"Cut that out, Mex! They'll hear
us," Slower cautioned.
"Caramba! This ting Is brek my
cart" said the Mexican, sadly. 1T
seem like the Senorita Mora is sing
that song to me. Mebbe she knows
I'm set out ERE on cactus an listen |
to her. All. love that Senorita YER
much"
The little man with the glasses be- |
gan to swear In his high falsetto. His |
ear had caught the photograph opera
tor In another musical mistake.