The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1915-12-09

ana pause to pass greetings with I
gsunt man in butternut brown. and
would catch = glimpse Of .ow-headed
children and slatternly women.
So civil were all these salutationa,
30 at variance with any idea Of vio-
lence, that the elaborate precautions
began to q ludicrous gro
tesquery.
OF course, I argued with myself, the
attorney knew his country and
I did not; yet I was morally certain
that Weighborne and I could have gone
about our business ~unescorted and as
secure as though we were inspecting
suburban lots under the guidance Of
. real estate dealer.
l suggested something 1T The rort
to MI. Marcus, and his only response
for the moment was a grim smile.
Then he patiently began to explain.
AT this moment" he said. Jim
Garvin knows just where We are and
what we're doing. We have spoken
to three men. OF that three at least
two have notified the store Of
passing. There is a phono at Chicken
Gizzard, YOU know"
It seemed rather too exaggerated q
system Of espionage for probability.
"And telephoning in this country"
went on the attorney, els not so sim.
pie a matter as you suppose. We have
no general system and n universal
exchange. There are telephones-or
1oxes,' as they r locally called
connecting three of four houses in
separate groups. A telephone mes
0age from my house to Lexington, for
example, would have to be repeated
and relayed through a half dozen
boxes before it reached its destina-
ton"
And yet, during all that days ride
and all Of the next three days, there
was never, to my eye. an indication
that any man interested himself in
our goings or comings. On the fourth
day it was otherwise.
We had covered some twenty-five or
thirty miles since breakfast over
roads that were full of climbs, and
other places where there we're no
roads at all. Our spent horses plod-
ded YEARLY, though the sun hung
| close enough over the western high
lands to warn us that, unless we in
creased the pace, we should be be-
nighted.
We were riding with our ever-pres-
ent squad of gunner, and our road
dipped to the valley where we should
cross that branch of Chicken Gizzard
which bounded the Marcus place at
the back. We shook our faded mounts
into a shambling trot, and reached it
at that hour which ushers in the short
November dusk. The woods were
still, and the bark of a be1ated squir-
rel going home from forage broke the
silence with a seeming of noisiness.
The creek was shallow and fordable.
essary to follow a dizzy bride. path
Bteeply downward and in single file,
between thick growing saplings and
laurel. Back Of the mountains the
sky held a pale a%fterglcw against
which the higher timber sketched it.
self starkly. The body of the woods
was a dark mass out Of which only
the white barked sycamores showed
themselves with any clearness of IN
dividuality. .
Beyond the ribbon of water lay Mar
cus's rotting and weed-choked divi-
sion fence. The smoke from his chin
! ney and the CLINT at the crack of a
lighted window were visible q half
mile distant.
Our front horses had splashed fet.
lock-deep into the water, and halted
the cavalcade to drink, when a sudden
staccato outbreak ripped the silence.
Three thin jets of rifle fire blinked
out with acrid sharpness from the
laurel through which we had just
come. The men who had ambushed
us must have lain 50 close to our
passing line that we might almost
have touched them from our saddles
as we rode down the declivity.
There was a confused, snorting,
splashing stampede for the cover OF
the opposite shore. I, who CHANGED to
be riding third in line, followed my
two leaders. and made the timber in
safety.
I slid from my saddle and found
refuge in a tangle of drift at the roots
Of a sycamore which o%verhung the
water. My armament vas limited to
an automatic pistol, small enough for
the pocket. and it hardly warranted
Intrusion into a debate with repeating
rifles.
Those of our party who found them
selves in the rear and hampered in
their escape by the conclusion ahead.
dismounted in the stream and began
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