The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1916-06-01

Ilndlng that his uncle had failed to
put one in, he suddenly remembered
that he seldom used a hobble, and
never on his horse. He cut a few feet
off the end of his lasso and used that.
The horse, unused to such hampering
of his free movements, had to be driven
out upon he grass
Duane made a small fire, prepared,
and ate his supper. This done, ending
the work of that day, he sat down and
filled his pipe. Twilight had waned
into dusk. A few wan stars had just
begun to show and brighten. Above.
the low continuous hum of insects
sounded the evening carol of robins.
Presently the birds ceased their sing
ing, and then the quiet was more no.
ticeable. When night set in and the
place seemed all the more isolated and
lonely for that Duane had a sense of
relief. I
1t dawned upon him all at once that
he was nervous, watchful, sleepless.
The fact caused him surprise, and he
began to think back, to take note of
his late actions and their motives. The
change one day had wrought amazed
him. He who had always been free,
easy, happy, especially when out alone
in the open, a become in a few short
hours bound, serious, p~reoccupied. The,
silence that had once been sweet now
meant nothing to him except a medium
whereby he might the better hear the
sounds of pursuit. The loneliness. the
night, the wild, that had always been
beautiful to him., now only I'VE a
sense OF safety for the present. He
watched, he listened, he thought. He
felt tired, yet had no inclination to
rest. He intended to be off by dawn,
heading toward the southwest. Had
ne a destination? 1t was vague as his
knowledge of that great waste of mes
quite rock bordering the Rio
Grande. somewhere out there was a
refuge. For he was a fugitive from
justice, an outlaw.
rms being an outlaw then meant
eternal vigilance. No home, no rest,
no sleep, no content, no life worth the
nVlng! He u be a lone wolf or he
niust nerd among men obnoxious to
MN. If he worked for an honest living
ne still must hide his identity and take
risks OF detection. If he did not work
on some distant outlying ranch, how
was he to live? The idea of stealing
was repugnant to him. The future
seemed gray and somber enough. And
he was % years old.
Why had this hard life heen in,nosaa
upon him?
me bitter question seemed to start
d strahse lclneSs that stole along his
veins. what was wrong with him? He
stiIreo the few sticks of mesquite into
a last pickering blaze. He was cold
and for some reason he wanted
some light. The black circle of
weighed down upon him
closed IN around him. Suddenly he
sat oolt upright and Their frozs
IN mat position. He had heard a step.
IL was behind him-no-on the other
side. Some one was there. He forned
ms hand down to his gun and the touch
0I coid steel was another icy shock.
Then he waited. But all was silent
slient as only a wilderness arroyo can
pc, with Its low ~murmuring of wind in
iIe mesquite. Had he heard a step3
he began to breathe again.
But what was the matter with the
lisht OF MS camp fire? 1t had taken on
a strange green luSter and seemed tn
pe waving off into the other Shadows.
duane heard no step, saw no move
illenl, nevertheless there was another
present at that camp fire vigil, Duane
saw him. He lay there in the middle Of
Ine green brightness, PROSTATE, mo-
tloniess, dying. Cal Balm! His features
We're wonderfully distinct, clearer than
any cameo. more sharply outlined than
NOSE OF any picture. 1t was a hard
az soIIenlng at the threshold of eter-
nifty. The red tar of sun. the coarse
OF drunkenness. the ferocity and
nate so CHARACTERISTIC of Balm were M
longer there. This face represented a
olfferent Balm. showea all that was hui
man IN him fading. fading as swiftlN
- s ~ pianched white. The lips wanted
10 speak, but had not the power. The
eyes held an agony of thought. They
reVealed what might have been possihle |
ior TINS man II he lived-that he sa
ms mistake too late. Then they rolled.
SCI blankly, and closed in death.
haunting visitation left Duane
sittlng there in a cold sweat. a ren1orse
gnaWlng at his vitals, realizing the
curse that was on him. He OWNED |
n never would he be able to keen ofs |
phantom. He remembered how his |
Iather a been eternally pursued by |
ne IuIles OF accusing guilt, how he had
never been able to forget in work or in
those men he had killed.
The hour was late when Duane's mind |
!el MIN sleep, and then dreams troubled |
MN. In the morning he bestirred him |
sen SO early that In the gray gloom he
difflculty in finding his horse. Day |
mao just broken when he struck the old |
trail again.
He rode hard all morning and halted
n a shady spot to rest and craze his |
morse. In the afternoon he took to the |
at an easy trot. The country grew |
WIDER. Bald. rugged mountains broke |
re ieVel or the m~onotonous horizon. |
8 o'clock in the afternoon he
came to a little river which marked the |
undary'li of his hunting territory.
The decision he made to travel lin
stream for q while vas owing to two |
river was high with quick |
sand Dars on each side. and he felt re- |
uctant to cross into that region where !
MS presence lone meant that he was a |
marked man. The bottom lands through !
which the river wound to the |
we're more inviting than the barrens he
1ad traVersed. The rest OF that day he
ode leisurely up stream. AT sunset |
penetrated the brakes OF willow ana
cottonwood to spend the night. 1t
'eemed to him that in this lonely cover
ne would feel easy and content. But
did not. Every feeling, every mag
ming he had experienced the previous
light somewhat more wildly |
accumulated by new ones Of the
same intensity and color.
In this kind of travel and camping
spent three more days, during which |
lie crossed a number OF trails, and one
Dad where cattle-stolen cattle, prob
lbly-had recently passed. This time
his supply of food, except
'alt, pepper, coffee and sugar, Of which |
had a quantity. There were deer a |
brakes; but, as he could MT cot |