The vidette., 1915-11-11


on his level.
Good God!" groaned the man, IN abb
jectly bitter self-contempt His hand
went involuntarily to his cropped head.
and dropped with a gesture of self
doubling. He looked down at his tan
shoes and silk SOCKS. He rolled back
his shirtsleeve and contemplated the
forearm that had once been as brown
and tough as leather. 1t was now the
arm Of city man, except for the burn
| ing OF one outdoor week. He was
returning at the eleventh hour
stripped of the faith of his kinsmen,
halfetripped OF his faith in himself.
| If he were to realize the constructive
! dreams of which he had last night so
confidently prattled to Adrienne. he
must lead his people from under the
blighting shadow of the feud.
Yet, II he was to lead them at all,
he must first regain their shaken con-
1 fidence, and to do that he must go, at
their head, through this mire Of war
| to vindication. Only fighting South
| could hope to be heard in behalf OF
peace. His eventual regeneration be-
| longed to some tomorrow. Today held
the need of such work as that of the
| first Samson-to slay.
He must reappear before his kins-
men as much as possible the boy who
had left them-not the fop with new
tangled affectations. His eyes fell
upon the saddlebags upon the floor OF
| Io 1nA tirio 1xy
He would like to step from the train
at Hixon and walk brazenly through
the town In those old clothes, chal-
lenging every hostile glance. II they
shot him down on the streets, as they
certainly would do, II would end his
questioning and his anguish of diem
ma He would welcome that, but II
would, after all, be shirking the issue.
He must get out of Hixon and into
his own country unrecognized. The
lean boy of four years ago was the
somewhat filled-out man now. The one
concession that he had made to Paris
life was the wearing of a closely
cropped mustache. That he still wore
had worn 1t chiefly because he liked
to hear Adrienne's humorous denuncia-
tion of It, He knew that, in his pres
ent guise and dress, he had an excel
lent chance of walking through the
streets of Hixon as a stranger. And,
after leaving Hixon. there was n mis-
sion TO be performed at Jesse Purvy's
store. AS he thought of that mission
grim CLINT came to his pupils.
All Journeys end, and as Samson
nassed through the tawdry cars OF the
local train near Hixon he saw several
faces which he recognized, but they
either eyed him In inexpensive silence
or gave him the greeting OF the FUR
riner."
Then the whistle shrieked from the
trestle over the Middle fork, and at
only short distance rose the cupola
OF the brick courthouse and the scat
tered roofs of the town. Scattered
over the green slopes by the river
bank lay the white spread of tented
company street, and, as he looked out,
he saw uniformed figures moving to
and fro and caught the ring of bugle
CALL So the militia was on deck;
things must be bad, he reflected. He
stood on the platform and looked
down as the engine roared along the
trestle. There were two gatling guns.
One pointed its muzzle toward the
town, and the other scowled UP at the
, face of the mountain. Sentries paced
; their beats. Men in undershirts lay
doing outside tent flaps. 1t was all
| picture of disciplined readiness, and
| yet Samson knew that soldiers made
of painted tin would be equally effec
tive. These military forces must re
main subservient to local civil authori
ties, and the local civil authorities
, obeyed the nod of Judge Holman anC
} Jesse Purvy.
I AS Samson crossed the toll bridge
to the town proper he passed two
brown-shirted militiamen, lounging OF
the rail of the middle span. They
, grinned at him-and, recognizing the
outsider from his clothes, one of then
commented:
/ "Ain't this the hell of town."
II SOlilS W UNf ltPllSu OaAAiSCh
enigmatically, as he went on.
Still unrecognized, he hired horse
at the livery stable, and for two hour:
rode in silence, save for the easy
creaking of his stirrup feathers anC
the soft thud of hoofs.
The silence soothed him. The brood
ing hills lulled his spirit as Grooming
: song lulls a fretful child Mile after
mile unrolled forgotten vistas. Some
thing deep in himself murmured;
"Home!"
1t was late afternoon when he saw
ahead of him the orchard of Purvy'S
place, and read on the store wall, &
little more weather stained, but other
; wise unchanged:
Jesse Purvy, General Merchandise.
The porch of the store was empty
and as Samson flung himself from his
saddle there was no one to greet him
This was surprising, since, ordinarily
two or three of Purvy's persona
guardsmen loafed at the front to watch
the road. Just now the guard shoulC
logically be doubled. Samson still
wore his eastern clothes-for he want
ed to so through that door unknown
AS Samson South he could not cross
its threshold either way. But wher
he stepped up on to the rough porcl
flooring no one challenged his advance
FF.a.