The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-08-18

He aga1n JOurneyed to the toWn pe- side the railroad, bought supplies and vanished, a ragged wrath, on the horizon.
 Back in the canyon he set about his labors, finding numbing solace in toll
 But at night he would think of the child's face. He had said to those with whom he had left the child that he would return with a fortune. They knew he went away to forget. They did not expect him to return. That had been ten years ago. He had writ ten twice. Then he had drtfted, all ways promising the inner voice that urged him that he would find gold for her, his child, that she might ever think kindly of him. So he tried to buy himself with promises. Once he had been man of his hands, . man who stood straight and faced the sun. Now the people of the desert town eyed him askance. He heard them say he was mad-that the desert had "got him." They were wrong. The desert and it's secret were his-a sullen para mour, but his nevertheless. Had she not given him of her very heart? He viewed his shrunken body, knew that he stopped and shufded, realized that he had paid the inevitable, the in exorable price for the secret. His wine of dreams had evaporated. He sifted the coarse gold between his fingers, let ting it fall back into the pan. Was 1t for this that he had wasted his soul? In the desert town men begun to notice the regularity of his comings and goings. Two or three Of them foregathered In the saloon and con- mented on it.
 "He packed some dynamite last trip. ? asserted one.
 There was a silence. The round clock behind the bar ticked loudly, eminously.
 'Then he's struck it at last" said another.
 "Mebby," commented the first speak CT.
 The third man nodded. Then came silence again and the absolute ticking of the clock. Presently from outside in the white heat of the road came the rush of hocfs and an abrupt stop. A spurred and booted rider, his swarthy face gray with dust, strode in, nodded to the group and called for whisky. (Which way did he go, Saunders P asked one.
 North, as usual" said the rider.
 Let's set down." suggested the third man.
 They shufled to a table. The bar tender brought glasses and a bottle; l then, unin'vited, he pulled up chair at him pointediy.s. "Oh, I'm in en thfs!' asserted the bartender. sDausherty is the Wells 1 Fargo man here. He won't talk to no body but ms--a bout business"
 What's thRt got to do with itT Querieds the rider. "Just what yeu'dS notice, Saunders Listen! The rat left bag of dust in the company's safe last trip. Daugh erty says its worth mabby five hun dred. He says the rats soin' to brina in some more. Do I come inY l You're en-" said the rider. 'eNow rec here, boys, we got to find out il he's filed on it yet and what his name is, and them
 '.Mebby wed, better find out whers 1t is first" suggested one. 'And then jump himT queried ths rider over bis glass.
 "And then jump him." chorused thu 1 group. "He's out there alone. It'l easy" And each poured himself 1 drink, for which, strangely enough, ns one offered to pay, and for which tn, bartender evidently forgot to collect.
 Meanwhile the prospector toile( through the drought of that summer boarding the little yellow flakes tha
 he washed from the gravel in the can yon. x
 All round him for miles each va,
 the water holes had. gone dry. Th' little canyon stream still wound dowl its shaded course, disappearing In [ patch of sand at the canyons mouth 70 the prospector felt secure. Non' had ridden out to look for him threugI that furnace of burning sand itha stretched between the hills and tn,
 desert town.
 I The stream dwindled slowly, imper ceptibly.
 One morning the prospector neticet
 1t and immediately explored the creel
 to its source, spurt of water spring
 ing from the roof of grctto in tn
 cliff. Such supply, evidently iron
 the rocky heart of the range itself would be inexhaustihle.
 A week latershe awoke to And th
 creek bed dry save in few dspres
 aions among .the rocks He again vis
 tied the grotto. The place was dam
 and cool, giisteaing with beads Q
 moisture, but the flow, from the roo
 cfevice had ceased. Still he though
 there must be plenty of water bs
 meath tho rocks of the stream bed. RI
 would dig for 1t
 Another week and be became uu easy. The stream had disappeared a though poured into q colossal crevict
 A few feet below the gravel he struc
 solid rock. He tried dynamite unsut cessfully. Then he boarded the driE
 pings from the srotto crevice till h
 had filed his canteen. Carefully h
 slowed his gold in chamois pouc
 and prepared to leave the canyon. HI
 burro had strayed during the, week c
 drought-was probably dead besid
 some dry water hole.
 The prospector set out to cross tn
 range in the light of the stars.