The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1914-12-26

companions eyes Lescott sank down
behind a rock, cloaked with gIistening
rhododendron LEAKAGE, where Samson
had already crouched and become i'm
movable and noiseless. They had
been there only a short time when
they saw another figure slipping qui-
city from tree to tree below them.
For a time the mountain boy
watched the figure and the painter
saw his lips draw in a straight line
and his eyes narrow with a CLINT OF
tense hate. Yet, a moment later, with
a nod to follow, the boy unexpectedly
rose into view and his features were
! absolutely expressionless.
"Mornin'. JIM" he called.
The sinking stranger whirled with
a start and an instructive motion as
| though to bring his rife to his shoul-
der. But, seeing Samson's peaceable
manner. he smiled and his own de-
meanor became friendly.
"Mornin', Samson"
kinder stranger in this country,
hain't ye, Jim?" drawled the boy who
lived there, and the question brought
sullen flush to the others cheek
bones.
Jest a-passin' through" he vouch-
safed
81 reckon ye'd find the wagon road
more handy suggested Samson
Some folks might spicion ye fer
stealin' long through the timber"
The skulking traveller decided to lie
plausibly. He laughed mendaciously.
That's the reason, Samson. 1 was
kinder skeered ter go through this
country in the open"
Samson met his eye steadily and
| said slowly:
Il reckon, Jim, hit mought be half
! es risky fer ye ter walk upstandin'
along Misery es ter go a-crouchin'.
| Ye thinks we've been a-shadderin' me.
1 knows jest whar ye've been all the
time. Ye lies when ye talks bout
passin' through. Ye've done been spy
! in hyar, ever since Jesse Purvy got
shot, an all tibet time we've done been
watched yerself I reckon hitn be
healthier fer We ter do yore spyin' from
t'other side of the ridge. reckon yer
allowin' ter git me eff Purvy dies, but
we're watchin' ye"
Jim Asberry's face darkened, but he
said nothing. There was nothing to
say. He was discovered in the enc
my's country and must accept the
enemy's terms.
This hyar time lets We go back -
said Samson, "fer the reason tibet I'm
| tryin' like all HI ter keep this truce.
But ye must stay on yore side or
else ride the roads open. How is
Purvy terday?"
He's mighty porely." replied the
| other in a SuIlen voice
"An right. Thet's another reason
why hit hain't healthy fer ye over
hyar"
The spy turned and made his way
over the mountain.
Oh him!" muttered Samson,
his face twitching. as the other was
lost in the underground. Some day
I'm a-goin' ter git him"
Tamarack Spicer did not at once
reappear, and when one Of the SOuths
met another in the road the customary
dialogue would be: "Heered anything
of Tamarack?" mo, hev you?
mo, nary word"
As Lescott wandered through the
hills, his unhurt right hand began cry
ing out for action and a brush to
nurse. As he watched, day after day,
| the UuVSlIlUS OI IuS uOnuHHShIdl AAAA0
and the transitions from hazy, wrath
like whispers of hues to strong, faring
riot Of color. this fret of restlessness
became actual pain. He was wasting
wonderful opportunity and the crea-
tive instinct in him was clamoring.
One morning, when he came out just
after sunrise to the tin wash basin
at the well, the desire to paint was on
him with compelling force. The hills
ended near their bases like things bit
ten of Beyond lay hmitless stream
ers of mist, but, while he stood at gaze
the filmy veil began to lift and foat
higher Trees and mountains grew
taller. The sun, which showed first
as a ghost-like disk of polished alumni
mum, struggled through orange and
, vermilion into a sphere OF living
fame. Lescott heard a voice at his
; side
when does We low ter commence
paintin'?"
1t was Samson. For answer the
artist, with his unhuTt hand, impa
:, tientIy tapped his bandaged wrist
aye still got yore right hand. hahn