The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-10-19

for when they hear the horses they'll be out of that door like so many devils turned loose fon us. Ride, pardner. ride, and save the kid for Gods saket Now off we go!''
 He gave Gledware's pony vicious cut with his lariat and drove>the spurs into his own broncho. The thunder of hoofs as they plunged in different direc- tons caused a sudden commotion within the isolated cabin. The door was flung open, and in the light that streamed forth Willock, looking back, saw forms rush out, gather about the prostrate forms of the. two brothers, move here and there in indecision, then by common impulse burst into a swinging run for the horses.
 As for G1edware, he never once turn ed his face. Urging on his horse at utmost speed and clasping the child to his breast, he raced toward the light The shadow of horse man and child, at first long and black, lessenedA to a mere speck, then vanished with the rider beyond the circle of the level world.
 Brick Willock, galloping toward the southwest freduently looked back. He saw the desperadoes leap upon their
 
 that brought the animals upright, then spring forward in pursuit. He heard the shouting, which, though far away, sounded the unmistakabIe accent of ungovernable fury.
 The little girl and her stepfather had vanished from the smooth, open page of the Texas Panhandle, and Brick Willock rejoiced with a joy new to him that these escaped prisoners had not been pursued. It was himself that the band meant to subject to their sav age vengeance and himself alone, as he well knew.
 As their bullets pursued him Willoek lay along the body of the broncho, feel ing his steed very small and himself very large, and yet, despite the rain of lead, his pleasure over the escape of the child warmed his heart.
 He had selected for himself and for Gledware ponies that had often been run against each other and which no others of all Red KimbalFs corral could Burpass in speed Gledware and the child were on the pony that Kimball mad once staked against the swiftest animal the Indians could produce, and Wfllock rode the pride of the Indian band which had almost won the prize.
 
 equal The rufians, who had dashed from the scene of the cabin almost in an even line, scattered and struggled unevenly. Now only two were able to send bullets whistling about Willock's head; now only one found it possible to cover the distance. At last he fell out of range.
 The child who had lain so trustingly upon WiIlock's wild bosom, who had clung to him as to father-she was safe! An unwonted smile crept under the bristling beard of the fugitive, as he urged the pony forward in unrelax- ing speed Should he seek refuge among civilized communities his crimes would hang over his head. To venture into his old haunts in No Mans Land would be to expose his back to the as- sassin's knife, or his breast to ambush ed murderers.
 These were desperate reflections, and the future seemed framed in solitude, yet Brick WilIock rode on with that odd smile about thei grim lips. The smile was unlike him, but, the whole affair was such an experience as had never entered his most daring fancy. Never before in his life had he held a child in his arms, still less had he felt the sweet embrace of peaceful slum- Der.
 The sun had risen when the pony, after q few tottering steps, suddenly sank to earth. WiI1ock unfastened the halter from it's neck, tied it with the lariat about his waist, and without pause set out afoot.
 Gro be esontinued.0