The Huttig news., 1914-10-17
CHAPTER XIII.

There are two things, according to the saying, which cannot be recalled the sped arrow and the spoken word. Whether spoken in anger or In jest. our winged thoughts will not come back to us and, where there is no balm for the wound We have caused, there is nothing to do but let 1t heal
 Bud Hooker was a man of few words. and slow to speak i'll of anyone, his tongue and he had told the worst about Phil Certainly if man were the bravest of the brave. certainly If he loved his girl more than life itself he would not be content to hide above the line and pour out his soul on note-paper. But to tell it to the l girl-that was an unpardonable sin! Still. LOW that the damage was done. there was no use of vain repining. and after cursing himself whoIe-heartedly Bud turned in for the night. Other days were coming; there were favors he might do; and perhaps, as the yes terdays went by, Gracia would forgive him for his plain speaking. Even to- morrow, If the rebels came back for more, he might square himself in ac- tion and prove that he was not cow ard. A coward!
 It had been long time since any one had used that word to him, but after the way he had knifed dear Phil' he had to admit he was 1t. But dear Phil!" It was that which had set him off
 If she knew how many other girls but Bud put sudden quietus on that particular line of thought. AS long as the world stood and Gracia was in his sight he swore never to speak i'll of De Lancey again, and then he went to sleep.
 The men who guarded the casa grande slept uneasily on the porch. lying down like dogs on empty sugar sacks that the wonSn might not lack bedding inside. Even at that they were better off, for the house was close and feverish with the crying of babies and the babbling of dreamers. and mothers moving to and fro.
 It was hectic night, but Bud slept out. and at dawn, after the custom
 his kind. he arose and stamped on
 ,ots The moist ooolness of the morning brought the odor of wet greasewood and tropic blossoms to his nostrils as he stepped out to speak with the guards, and as he stood there waiting for the full daylight the mas ter mechanic joined him.
 He was full-blooded, round-headed little man with determined views on life, and he began the day. as usual. with his private opinion of Mexicaps. They were the same uncomphmentary remarks to which he had given voice on the day before, for the rebels had captured one of his engines and he knew it would come to some harm.
 "A fine bunch of hombres, yes," he ended, and may the devil fly away with them! They took No. g at the summit yesterday and I've been lis- tening ever since. Her pans are all burned out and we've been feeding her bran like COW to keep her from leaking steam. If some ignorant Mex gets hold of her you'll hear big noise -that'll be the last of No. 9-her boiler will burst like wet bag.
 If I was running this road there'd be no more bran-not since what I saw over at ..Agnascalientes on the Gen. tral. One of those bum. renegade en- zine drivers had burned out Mo- 743, but the rebels had ditched four of our best and we had to send her out Day after day the boys had been feeding tillery. The mash was oozing out of her as Ben Tyrrell pulled up to tho station- and a friend of his that had