The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1914-08-05
CHAPTER XVI-Contlnued.

II wonder where that dogged IN
Clan went to-" he said for the hum
Sredth time, as the deep shadows
gathered in the valley. "By Joe, Phil,
if Amigo comes back I'm going to go
ahead on that mine. I want to keep
him around here, and we might as
we'll get out some ore, If It's only Tor
a grub-stake. Come on-what do you
say?r Well open her up--there's moth
ing to hide now. Well, I'll do 1t my
self, then-this setting around Is get
ting on my nerves."
His ~far-seeing eyes, trained from his
boyhood to search the hills for cattle,
scanned the tops Of the ridges as ne
spoke; and while he sat and %pondered
they noted every rock.
Then at last he rose up slowly and
gezed at q certain spot. He waved
his arm, beckoning the distant point
OF blackness to come in, and soon
from around a point in the canyon the
Yaqui appeared, bearingsa heavy Maui
ser rifle on his arm.
. Across his broad breast hung inc
same familiar cartridge-belt, two more
encircled his hips, and he walked
with his head held high, like the war
rior that he was.
Evidently his fight had led to the
place where his arms had been hid, for
he wore the regulation knife-bayonet
at his hip and around his hat was the
red ribbon Of his people, but Bud was
too polite to ask him about his jour,
ney. Since his coming the Yaqui had
always maintained a certain mystery,
and now, though his eyes were big
with portent and he smiled at the jests
about his gun, he simply waved his
hand to the south and east and muir
INJURED:
"Muchos reyoltosos!"
"Seguro;" answered Bud jokingly;
"but have you killed any?"
Not yeti" returned the Indian, and
he did not smile at that.
g" wonder what that Indian Is wait
ing around here for?" remarked Phil in
English. "He must have his eye on
somebody"
Yeah, I bet," agreed Bud. regard
ing his savage friend with a specula'
tive interest. Most of them Yaqui
soldiers vas farmhands in this coun'
try before they rounded them up. ]
reckon he's looking for the man that
had him deported.
Tired, Amigo?" he inquired in
Spanish, and Ignacio gravely acknowl
edged that he was, a little.
Then drink plenty Coffee" went on
Hooker. Eat lots-tomorrow we &c
to work" In. the mine"
Tomorrow" repeated the Indian,
as If considering his other engage
ments; "good!" He nodded a smiling
assent.
After a month and more of idleness
Bud and Amigo performed prodigiee
of labor in the cut, rolling down
boulders, lifting them up on the tram,
and clearing away the face Of the cliff.
Their tram was ramshackle, their
track the abandoned rails from older
workings. and their tools little more
than their hands, but by noon the last
broken fragments were heaved aside
and the shattered ledge revealed.
A low cry of..wonder escaped the
Yaqui as he. gazed at the rich vein of
ore, and as" he saw the grim smile on
Buds rugged countenance he showed
his white teeth in sympathy.
"Que bueno!" he murmured. How
good" gathering the precious frag-
ments in his handkerchief.
At the camp they crushed the
picked ore in a mortar and PANIED 1t
in the creek, and for the moment De
Lancey dropped his air of preoccu-
pancy as he stared at the streak Of
pure gold. Like a yellow film it lay
along the edge of the last fine t~ailings,
and when skilful washing had left it
bare, 1t cleaned like a jewel in the
pan.
by Jove, Bud!" he cried, that's the
real stuff-and it goes a dollar to the
pan easy!"
Sure thing!" assented Bud. Lets
pound a lot Of it and wash 1t as we go
then we'll have some getaway money
when things break loose here!"
"Ill go you!" answered Phil, and
Buds heart warmed toward him as he
watched him pound up a piece Of ore
and go to swirling the dirt in the
pan.
But alas for the fond hopes he cher
ished! Even as he washed out the
gold Pills mind wandered far away
back to the hotel where Gracia Ara
gon sat watching by the window.
Her hair was the color Of gold, spun
fine and refined again; yes, it was
worth more than this golden dross
that he caught in the bottom Of his
pan. And what vas gold if he could
not have her?
He paused in his labor and a dreamy
smile parted his lips-then he broke
into a song.
Sweet honey bee, be sweet to me,
My heart Is free, but here's the key;
Lock up thet garden gate; honey. you
know I'll wait.
Under the rambler rose tree-ee