The Parma herald. (Parma, Idaho) 1903-1917, 1917-07-05

in their direction vanished De SPANS
last hopes of tracking them. The wind
swept the desert now as a hurricane
sweeps the open sea, snatching the
fallen snow from the face of the earth
as the sea-gaIe, flattening the face Of
the waters, rips the foam from the
frantic waves to drive it in wild, scud-
ding fragments across them.
De Spain, urging his horse forward,
unbuckled his rifle holster, threw away
the scabbard, and holding the weapon
up In one hand. fired shot after shot
at measured intervals to attract the
attention Of the two he sought. He ex-
hausted his rifle ammunition without
eIiciting any answer. The wind drove
with a roar against which even a rife
report could hardly carry, and the
snow swept down the sinks in a mad
blast. Flakes torn by the fury Of the
gale were stiffened by the bitter wind
into powdered ice that stung horse and
rider. Casting away the useless car
bine, and pressing his horse TO the
limit of he- strength and endurance,
the unyielding pursuer rode In great,
coiling circles into the storm, to cut
in, if possible, ahead of its victims,
firing shot upon shot from his revolver,
and putting his ear intently against
the wind for the faint hope Of an an
swer
Suddenly the Lady stumbled and, as
he cruelty refined her, slid helpless and
ecro fnHJfpo- oIoprr tho faoa Of q Ha+
rock. De Spain, Ieaping from her
back, steadied her trembling and
looked underfoOt The mare had
struck the rock of the upper lava bed.
Drawing his revolver he fired signal
shots from where he stood. 1t could
not be far, he knew, from the junction
of the two great desert trails-the
Calabasas road and the gap road He
felt sure Nan could not have got much
north of this, for he had ridden in des-
peration to get abreast of or beyond
her. and If she were south, where, he
asked, in the name of God, could she
be?
He climbed again into the saddle
the cold was gripping his limbs-and.
watching the rocky landmarks narrow
", tried to circle the dead waste Of
the half-buried flow. With chilled,
awkward fingers he filed the revolver
again and rode on, discharging it every
minute, and istening-hOping against
hope for an answer. 1t was when he
had almost completed, as well as he
could compute, the wide circuit he had
set out on. that a faint shot answered
his continuing signals.
With the sound of that shot and
those that followed it his courage all
came back. But he had yet to trace
through the confusion Of the wind and
the binding snow the direction of the
answering reports.
Hither and thither he rode, this way
and that, testing out the location Of
the slowly repeated shots, and signal
ing at intervals in return. Slowly and
doggedly he kept on, shooting, listen
ing. wheeling and advancing until. as
he raised his revolver to fire it again,
a cry close at hand came out of the
storm. 1t was a wOman's voice borne
on the wind. Riding swiftly to the
left, a horses outline revealed itself
at moments in the driving snow ahead.
De Spain cried out, and from behind
the furious curtain heard his name,
loudly called He pushed his STUN
bling horse on. The dim outline Of a
second horse, the background of wagT
on, storm-beaten man-al this
passed his eyes unheeded. They were
bent on a girlish figure running toward
him as he slid stiffiy from the saddle,
The next instant Nan was in his arms.