The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1916-01-27

1t was the long, shining body of a
tied to his collar, dripping black
horse, tired to the point of falling, and
a woman who sat fastened to the can
tie with strips OF broadcloath, and
whose face was not good to look upon.
1t bore upon its features the brand of
too much horror.
They focked around her with cheers
and eager hands, and questions that
tumbIed over each other. But John
Daily thrust them all aside to seize
her wrist and demand word of Sandry
and Siletz.
They're up behind - the Hog
Back. she shuddered as she spoke
that name I'VE found Hampden-set-
ting the-fres-with candles"
Here there were awed mutterings.
"Ee-shot lhat-Preacher. He said
the East Belt deed-was recorded
all right-but that-he owned-the
recorder
She seemed duly bent on straight
ening out some tang,e. "Sandry is-a
man-despite all. Get Hampden-if
hes alive. No. l don't mean-that.
He-sent me down. The horse was
near done" AS she slid down into
Daily's arms she said with her last
ounce of strength but with such com
manding spirit that he knew she was
in deadly earnest. Get me-a convey
ance-at once. / want to be in Toledo
for the-night train-out."
Thus it came, that, as night closed
down blue with rain over the tortured
country, two things of import to the
fortunes OF the Dillingworth and its
owner were taking place. Poppy Ord
way stood on the platform of the
dreary station at the lost little town
on the backwater. bound for the out
side world and the far cities.
At the same moment yet one more
procession was coming slowly down
from among the peaks, line of men
a long line. for weary as they were
dozens had followed the foreman into
the wrecked. mud-deep forest-who
bore tenderly among them two sings.
It was a significant fact that scat
tered along that scarecrow line was
every man of Sandry's old crews who
had gone over to Hampden.
In one sling there swung gently the
still figure of the Preacher, its Book
upon its breast. its martial flute beside
it, its glimmerings of the Past for
gotten, its wistful searchings ended.
In the other lay Sandry, his right
hand clasping two small dark ones
whose owner trudged faithfully beside
him refusing all offers of assistance.
A holy joy was in his heart, his lips
moved noiselessly in the rolling Latin
of "Te Deum." This was the hour
for which he had carelessly learned it
at college.
Unashamed he acknowledged the ex-
istence OF that Power which he had
once denied to Siletz
And the little maid who had lost
her soul for love lifted wondering eyes
toward the west ridge, hidden in the
dim distance, where her sanctuary,
the seven-foot fir stump, waited in
vain for her rites of worship.
There was a wistful pathos in her
calm acceptance of the mighty price
which had been asked of her, and yet
she was content. She had offered both
her soul and body, exalted, glorified,
in that she might serve this man.
ha,-
sweeping, burning, glorious passion
which frightened her clasp on Sandry's
hand. Neither she nor the young own
er realized that they had exchanged
places on the path of life.
The procession, headed by John
Daily who carried one end of Sandry's
sling and was filled with a generous
joy in that he had found these two
alive, wound slowly down from the
cup behind the Hog Back. penetrating
that fringe of pines at it's foot winch
had formed the trap. They were now
but hideous blackened shapes, mon
sters that lowered frightfully into the
rain, their bases smoking here ard
there where bowlder shielded stub
born fires.
Close along the face of the giant
cliff they pressed, taking the shortest
way.
Suddenly, without warning, they
came full upon a huddled heap that
lay at its base. 1t was pitifully fiat
and broken. as if it had fallen from
a great height, and it bore upon /
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