The Huttig news., 1916-10-07
 "T'yp heen hrougbt nm in Tnyac

i've been brought up in Texas. I remember what a hard lot the men of my family had. But poor as they were, they had roof over their heads, a hearth with fire, a warm bed somebody to love them. And you, Duane-oh, my God! What must your life be? You must ride and hide aud watch eternally."
 She ended with a sob and dropped her head on her knees. Duane was amazed, deeply touched.
 My girl, thank you for that thought O me" he said with tremor in his voice. "You don't know how much that means to me-"
 She raised her face and it was tear- stained, eloquent, beautiful.
 I've heard tell-the best of men go to the bad out there. You won't. Promise me you won't. ] never knew any man-like you. live may never see each other again-after to-day. I'll never forget you. I'll pray for you, and I'll never give mp trying toto do something. Don't despair. It's never too late. It was my hope that kept me alive--out there at Bland's-before you came. l was only poor weak girl. But if could hope so can you. Stay away from men. F. a lone wolf Fight for your life. Stick out your exile-and maybe some day.
 Then she lost her voice. Duane clasped her hand and with feeling as deep as hers promised to remember her words. In her despair for him she had spoken wsdom-~pointed out the only course.
 Duanes vigilance, momentarily broken ny emotion. had no sooner re- asserted itself than he discovered the bay horse, the one Jennie rode, had broken his halter and gone off. The soft wet earth had deadened the sound of his hoofs. His tracks were plain in the mud.
 Duane did not want to leave Jennie alone in the cabin so near the road. So he put her on his horse and bade her follow. The rain had ceased for the time being, though evidently the storm was not yet over. The tracks led up wash to wide fiat where mesquite, prickly pear, and thorn-bush grew so thickly that Jennie could not ride into it. He could not expect her to scramble quickly through that brake on foot. Therefore he decided to risk leaving her at the edge of the thicket and go in alone.
 As he went in sound startled him. Was it the breaking of branch he had stepped on or thrust aside? He heard the impatient pound of his horses hoofs. Then all was quiet Still he listened, not wholly satisfied. He was never satisfied in regard to safety; he knew too well that there never could he safety for him in this country. Certain he was now that some kind of danger threatened.
 Suddenly there came an unmisfak- ableethump of horses hoOfs off some where to the fore. Then scream rent the air. It ended abruptly. Duane leaped forward, tore his way through the thOrny brake. He heard Jennie cry again--an appealing call quickly hushcd. It seemed more to his right. and he plunged that way. He burst into q glade where a snoldering fire md ground covered with footprints and tracks showed that campers had lately been. Rushing across this, he broke his passage out to the open. But he was too late. His horse had disappeared. Jennie was gone. There were no riders in sight. There was no sound There was heavy trail Of horses going north. Jennie had been carried off-probably by outlaws. Duane realized that pursuit was out of the question-that Jennie was lost.
 (Continued Next Week.j