The Leavenworth echo. [volume] (Leavenworth, Wash.) 1904-current, 1914-02-13
CHAPTER TX.
"Drop That Gun.

WOU have carried your impossible
escapade too far already; you
must come home else 1 shall send some
member of the family to stay with
you until you are ready to return"
The peremptory letter from her ia
Their which the mail carrier brought
the daily of the bale made Nan less
inclined than ever to attend.
She had no heart for it, though Mrs.
Gallagher continued to urge for the
one purpose, she knew. of Showing
her off," as Mrs. Gallagher, Nan had
discovered, was Unfortunately proud of
her.
Her fathers letter contained his
ultimatum. Nan knew that he would
keep his word and, unless assured of
her speedy return, her brother, sister,
perhaps her mother, would be sent
somewhat in the capacity of guardian
to, or keeper of, mildly insane
1t would be sheer martyrdom to any
of the family to share, even for a week,
the picturesque life with it's Incidence
and idleness which had gripped her SO
hard.
From the time of her arrival the
days had slipped by with incredible
swiftness. In the cool of the mornings
she saddled her horse and followed the
trails along the river, flushing great
coveys of quail, startling innumerable
jackrabbits from the sagebrush and
their burrows, or wandered over the
mesa listening to the mournful coo of
the turtle doves, and enjoying to the
utmost the wonderful colorings of the
plains and distant ranges.
Then, when the afternoons sun beat
down upon the sand of the river val
ley, Mrs. Gallagher sprinkled the dirt
floor, closed the door, and Nan, like
all of Las Rubertas, lay down upon
her sheepskin couch until the GOODNESS
of evening crept in upon the blistering
day.
She ate the tortillas which Mrs. Gall
lagher patted out between her hands.
and assiduously cultivated a taste for
the hot chilli sauce of which Mrs Gal
lagher partook with such relish. In
the evening she sauntered with the
populace in the plaza. or sat in her
own doorway listening to the roar of
the Rio Grande and the tinkle of gui-
tars.
But her fathers letter meant more
than the abandonment of the life
which had laid hypnotic spell upon
her. 1t meant that she must come to
some decision in regard to Ben. She
must either break with her family
and marry him in spite of their oppo-
sition, or she must give him up en-
tirely and return to the life from
which she had fled.
She could not ask Ben to share it,
that was certain. The idea filled her
with dismay, and she was further per-
turbed to discover that her dismay
arose chiefly from the thought of
Bens unfitness for such surroundings.
She squirmed mentally, to use fig
ure, at the picture of Ben running the
gauntlet of her argus-eyed family and
his foregone failure to come within
ven hailing distance of their stand
ards of culture and good breeding.
They would consider him, she
blushed as she admitted it, kind of
picturesque lout. They could never
make allowances as she did for his
mental limitations, for his crude ideas
and expression of them, and some
times-yes, sometimes for this raw
fselfishness and vanity.
| No, he belonged here, in his own
setting. To transplant him was out OF
the question; she never would subject
him to their criticism. She could
adapt herself to his life, but he could
i----------------------