Williams news., 1915-03-25

SoS~A her in Wales, the innocent girl in the big sunbonnet whom he had loved. What had he done? How had this thing come between them?
 He saddled his horse and rode five miles to his nearest neighbor.
 Keep charge of my sheep a day or | two," he said. I'm going to Butte"
 Something wrong with the wife?" asked the neighbor sympathetically.
 "Yes," answered Larry, riding away. However, he had no intention of go- ing to Butte. He knew that the night train from Butte stopped to take on the valley. He could catch her if he rode hard. And, once aboard-well. Larry had a revolver in his coat pocket.
 Yet his object was less to be re- venged upon Collins than to preserve Dorothy's good name, to save her from herself
 He rode hard. The moon came up and lit the mountain way. Time and again he thought he heard the Butte train snorting up the incline in the distance, but always the sound proved imaginary. And now he was nearing the railroad track, which ran, mar row, edged ribbon, beneath him. He spurred his horse down the mountain way.
 At last he dismounted and, turning the beast adrift to graze, waited be- side the rails. Terrible thoughts as- I; 1 "hof if, instead of killing Collins, he were to place one of the huge fallen frs across the rails, dislodging the engine from the metals as it came swinging round the curve? He could destroy Collins and a hundred others, sending them to their death among the bowl ders far below the grade, and escape unknown in the confusion. Was Dorothy worth the sacrifice of his own life in retribution? The temptation grew stronger, until the man shook with the agony that assailed him. At last he went toward the tallest of the frs, a giant tree as | hard as ebony, which lay with it's trunk projecting only few inches from the rails. With the exercise of all his strength he could shifts it a few inches down the incline. He knew that just where it lay the curve was the most dangerous. He stopped | Then, in the distance, he heard the putting of the engine as she forced her way up to the summit before de scending on the grade that led to the siding There was just, time.
 But the sight of the fiery eyes of the monster above him paralyZed his mind, and he could not turn his mus cles to the accomplishment of the task. And now, the engine was de- scending the grade, numbering and screaming as she made her way toward the siding. Larry stood still It was too late now. But it was not too late to carry out his original purpose.
 Suddenly the moving mass seemed to stand still. She swerved, reared, and then, with scream of escaping steam, the engine left the metals and toppled upon it's side, followed by mali the cars, yet clinging almost miracu. lous1y to the mountain side.
 Flames burst out among the wreck
 c6Os hO oSl OdAlo Ol ShC ihJoA Oo reached Larry's ears plainly. Entire
 ly forgetful of his purpose, the man
 ran at full speed toward the scene o1
 the accident. Men and women lay
 half buried beneath the wreckage. Lar
 ry ran along the side of the over
 turned cars, searching for Dorothy.
 And he found her. She was unin
 jured, and, on her knees, she crouchet
 beside a man with a ghastly wound
 across his breast. Larry knew Col
 lins, though the face had been bat
 tered almost out of recognition. Ht
 must have been killed instantly.
 He touched Dorothy upon the arm There is nothing to do," he said
 ''It is too late.'
 Yes" she answered, rising to hel
 feet in a mechanical manner and nov
 ing away. She seemed stunned by thu
 catastrophe. She hardly realized f where she was.
 , Larry devoted hour after hour t' aiding the injured, until the hospita train that was rushed out from Butt f came up. Then he found Dorothy again She was standing near the body of he l companion, looking uncertainty abou
 her.
 v What are you going to do?" aske' f Larry.
 T don't know she answered calm ly. She seemed to have lost all powe r of feeling. "Go on to California, suI D pose You see, have my ticket" n "But what will you do there?" g What does that matter to you
 Anything"
 e Dorothy, you said you did not lov |. that man." said Larry. r "Well?" she returned. il Dorothy, in the old days used t il love a little girl in Wales. She wa