The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1916-07-13

around Every day / put stone In
your hat"
Jennie. you saved my life," said
Duane.
Il don't know. Maybe. did all I
know how to do" she replied. you
saved mine-more than my life"
Their eyes met in a long gaze, and
then their hands in a close clasp.
Jennie, we're going to get away" ne
said, with gladness. TIL be well IN
few days. You don't know how strong
l am. Wen hide by day and travel
by night. / can get you across the
river"
And them" she asked. rs
wen find some honest rancher.'
"And them" she persisted.
why" he began, slowly, that's as
far as my thoughts ever got. IL was
pretty hard. tell you, to assure my
self of so much. 1t means your safety.
You'll tell your story. You'll be sent 10
some village or town and taken care OF
until a relative or friend is notified"
And your" she inquired, in a strange
voice.
Duane kept silent
What will you do?" she went on.
Jennie, I'll go back to the brakes. /
daren't show my face among respect
able people. I'm an outlaw"
You're no criminal!" she declared,
with deep passion.
Jennie, on this border the little DIFF
ference between an outlaw and Grim
| inal doesn't count for much"
You won't go back among those ter
Tible men? You, with your gentleness
and sweetness-all that's good about
you? oh, Duane, don't-don't go!"
Il can't go back to the outlaws, al
least not Blande's band. No, I'll go
alone. I'll lone-wolf It, as they say on
the border. What else can I do,
| Jennie?"
"Oh, 1 don't know. Couldn't you hide? ?
Couldn't you slip out of Texas--go far
away?"
Il could never get out Of Texas with
out being arrested. / could hide, but
a man must live. Never mind about
me. Jennie"
In three days Duane was able with
great difficulty to mount his horse.
During daylight. by short relays, he
and Jennie rode back to the main trail,
where they hid again till he had rested.
Then in the dark they rode out of the
canon5 and gullies of the Rim Rock,
and early in the morning halted at the
first water to camp. rEs
From that point they travelled after
| nightfall and went into hiding during
the day. Once across the Neuces river,
Daune was assured OF safety for her
and great danger for himself. They had
crossed into a country he did not know.
Somewhere east OF the river there were
scattered ranches. But he was as liable
to find the rancher in touch with the
outlaws as he was likely to find him
honest. Duane hoped his good fortune
| would not desert him In this last serv-
Ice to Jennie. Next to the worry Of
that was realization Of his condition.
He had gotten UP too soon; he had rid
den too far and hard, and now he felt
that any moment he might fall from
his saddle. At last, far ahead over q
barren mesquite dotted stretch Of dusty
ground. he espied patch OF green and
! little flat, red nch-house. He headed
his horse for 1t and turned a face he
tried to make cheerful for Jennie's
sake. She seemed both happy and
sorry.
When near at hand he saw that the
rancher was a thrifty farmer. And
thrift spoke for honesty. There were
fields Of alfalfa, fruit trees, corrals,
Windmill pumps, irrigation bitches, ali
| surrounding neat little adobe house.
Some children were playing in the yard.
| The way they ran at sight OF Duane
| limited of both the loneliness and the
fear of their isolated lives. Duane saw
q woman come to the door, then a man.
The latter looked keenly, then stepped
outside. He was a sandy haired,
freChed Texan.
'Howdy, stranger" he called, as
Duane halted. Get down, you an your
woman: Say, now, air you sick or shot
or what? Let me-
Duane, Keeling in his saddle, bent
searching eyes upon the rancher. He
thought he saw good will, kindness,
honesty. He risked all on that one sharp
glance: Then he almost plunged from
the saddle.
The rancher caught him, helped him
| to a bench.
Martha, come out here!" he called
This mans sick. No; he's shot, or /
| don't know blood stains"
Jennie had slipped off her horse ard
to Duan's side. Duane appeared about
| to faint.
"Air you his wife?" asked the
| rancher.
mo. I'm only girl he saved from
outlaws. Oh. he's so pale! Duane.
Duane!"
Buck Duane!" exclaimed the ranch
er, excitedly. THE man who killed
Bland an Alloway? Say. I owe him a
good turn, an I'll pay it, young wom-
an" 49,.
The ranchers wife came out, and
with a manner at once kind and prac-
tical essayed to make Duane drink from
flask. He was not so far gone that
he could not recognize its contents,
| which he refused. and weakly asked for
water. When that was given him he
found his voice.
Yes, I'm Duane. I've only overdone
| myself-just all in. The wounds I got
at BANDS are healing. Will you take
| this girl in-hide her awhile till the
excitement's over among the outlaws %
Il shore WILL" replied the Texan.
Thanks. I'll remember you'll
square it."
What re you goin' to do?'
I'll Test bit-then go back to the
| brakes"
young man, you amt In any shape
to travel: See here-any hustlers on
/ your trail?
Il think we gave BANDS gang the
slip"
Good. I'll tell you what I'll take
you In along with the girl, an hide
both of you till you get we'll. 1t IL be
safe. NV nearest neighbor Is five miles
off. We don't have much company"
You risk a great deal. Both outlaws
and rangers are hunting me-" said
Duane.
Never seen a ranger yet in these
! parts. An have always got ale g with
outlaws, mebbe exceptin' Bland. I tell
II