Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1916-12-20

) Dust-clouds fur ahead caused his
alarm to grow. He watched with his
eyes strained; he hoped to see q
wagon, few stray cattle. But no,
he soon deserted several horsemen.
Shots and yells behind him attested
to the fact that his pursuers likewise
had seen these newcomers on the scene.
More than mile separated these two
parties, vet that distance did not keep
them from soon understanding each
other. Duane waited only to see this
new factor show signs Of sudden quick
action, and then, with a muttered
curse, he spurred his horse of the
road into the brush.
He chose the right side, because the
river lay nearer that way and put his
horse to his best efforts, straight
ahead. He had to pass those men.
When this was seemingly made Inn
possible BY q deep wash from which
he had to turn. Duane began to feel
cold and nick. Almost he lost his bear
ings, and finally would have ridden
toward his enemies had not good
fortune favored him in the matter OF
an open burned-over stretch OF
ground. sl.. n
Here he saw both groups Of pur-
suers, one on each side and almost
within gunshot. Their sharp yells, ~
much as his cruel spurs, drove his
horse into that pace which now meant
life or death for him. And never had
Duane bestrode gamer, swifter,'
stancher beast. He seemed about to
accomplish the Impossible. In the
dragging sand he was far superior to
any horse in pursuit, and on this sandy
open stretch he gained enough to spare
a little in the brush beyond. Heated
now and thoroughly terrorized, he kept
the pace through thickets that almost
tore Duane from his saddle. Some
thing weighty and grim eased on
Duane. He was going to get out In
'front.' The morse had speed, fire,
stamina.
A race began then, a dusty, crashing
drive through gray mesquite. Duane
could scarcely see, he was so blinded
by singing branches across his eyes.
The hollow wind rOared In his ears.
He lost his sense Of the nearness OF
his pursuers. But they must have
been close. Did they shoot at him? He
imagined he heard shots. But that
might have been the cracking Of dead
snags. His left arm hung limp, al
most useless; he handled the. rein
with his right; and most of the time
he hung low over the pommel.
Suddenly he burst out Of a line OF
mesquite into the road. A long stretch
Of lonely road! How fiercely, with
hot, strange joy, he wheeled his horse
upon 1t! Then he was sweeping along,
sure now that he was out in front.
His horse still had strength and speed,
but showed signs Of breaking. Pre-
sently Duane looked back. Pursuers-
he could not count how many-were
Looping along in his rear. He paid no
more attention to them, and with teeth
set he faced ahead, grimmer now in
his determination to foil them.
Sight of the village ahead surprised
Duane. He reached it sooner than he
expected. Then he made a discovery
he had entered the zone of wire fences.
As he dared not turn back now, he
kept on, intending to ride through the
village. Looking backward, he saw
that his pursuers were half a mile
distant, too far to alarm any villagers,
in time to intercept him in his flight.
AS he rode by the first houses his
horse broke and began to labor.
Duane did not believe he would last
long enough to so through the village.
Saddled horses in front Of store
gave Duane an idea, not by any means
new, and one he had carried out sue
cessfully before. AS he pulled in his
heaving mount and leaped off, a couple
Of ranchers came out Of the place, and
one of them stepped to a clean-limbed,
fiery bay. He was about to get into
his saddle when he saw Duane, and
then he halted, a foot in the stirrup.
Duane strobe forward, grasped the
bride Of this mans horse.
Mines done-but not killed." he
painted. TRADE with me-"
"Wal, stranger, I'm shore always
ready to trade" drawled the man.
"But amt you little swift7"
Duane glanced back up the road.
His pursuers were entering the village.
"I'm Duane Buck Duane, he cried,
menacingly. "Will you trade? Hurry"
The rancher, turned white, dropped
his foot from the stirrup and fell back.
II reckon I'll trade" he said.
Bounding up, Duane dug spurs into
the bays TANKS. The horse snorted
in fright, plunged into a run. He was
fresh, swift, half wild. Duane flashed
by the remaining houses on the street
out into the open. But the road ended
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