The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1915-06-03
CHAPTER %.

Sally clambered lightly over the
her journey. the climb across the
young corn rows. II was a field stood
on end. and the hoed ground was I'M
even; but with no seeming of weari.
ness her red dress flashed steadfastly
across the green spears, and her voice
was raised to shout: Hello. Samsoni"
The young man looked up and waved
a languid greeting. He did not remove
his hat or descend from his place of
rest, and Sally, who expected no such
attention, came smilingly on. Samson
was her hero. Slow of utterance and
difident with the stranger. words now
came fast and fuently as she told her
story OF the man who lay hurt at the
foot of the rock.
"Iit hain't long now tell shutdown"
she urged. Hurry. Samson, an git
yore mule. I've done give him my
promise ter fotch ye right straight
back"
Samson took of his hat. and tossed
the heavy lock upward from his fore.
head. His brow wrinkied with doubts.
what sort Of lookin' Teller air he p
While Sally sketched a description.
the young mans docbt grew graver.
This hain't no At time ter be takin'
in folks what we hain't acquainted
with" he objected. In the mountains
any time is the time to take In strang-
ers unless there are secrets to be
guarded from outside eyes.
"Why hain't TT" demanded the girl.
"He's hurt We KANT leave him lsyin'
thar. kin WEI"
Suddenly her eyes caught sight Of
the rife leaning near by, and straight.
way they filed with apprehension.
Her militant love would have turned
20 hate for Samson, should he have
proved recreant to the mission OF re-
prtsal in which he was biding his time,
pet the coming Of the day when the
truce must end haunted her thoughts.
she came close, and her voice sank
with her sinking heart.
What air hit?" she tensely demand.
ed. What air hit, Samsonf What
fer hev ye fetched yer gum ter the
field?"
The boy laughed. "0h. hit amt
nothin' pertic'ler." he treasured. "Hit
haint Eothin' fer a gal ter fret herself
erbout, only kinder suspicious
strangers Jest now"
AIR the truce busted!" She put the
question in q tense. deep-breathed
whisper, and the boy replied casually,
almost indifferently.
mo. Sally, hit haint Jest ter say
busted. but pears like hits right
smart cracked. I reckon. though" he
added In half-disgust, 'nothin' won't
come Of hit"
Somewhat treasured. she bethought
herself again Of her mission.
This here furriner hain't got no
harm In him, Samson" she pleaded.
"He pears ter be more like q gal than
man. He's real puny. He's got
white skin and q bow Of ribbon ON
hia neck-an' he paints pictchers."
The boys face had been hardening
with contempt as the description ad-
vanced. but at the Last words a glow
came to his eyes. and he demanded
almost breathlessly:
paints pictcherst How do ys know
thatf"
II seen 'em. He was paintin' one
when he feIl often the rock and busted
his arm. It's shore es beautiful es-"
she broke off, then added with a sud-
den peal OF laughter-"es or FLETCHER"
The young man slipped down from
the fence. and reached for the rife.
The hoe he left where 1t stood.
"I'll git the mag" he announced
briefly, and swung on without further
parley toward the curling spiral OF
smoke that marked cabin quarter
Of a mile below. Ten minutes later
his bare feet swung against the rib.
Of q gray mule and his ride lay bal
Snced across the gnsaddlsd withers.