The Farmington times. (Farmington, St. Francois County, Mo.) 1905-1926, 1917-09-14


as the liquor first dribbIed from be-
tween her teeth, until spasmodic
gasp told that she had swallowed some
of it. Patiently he kept at his work,
knowing that she must soon revive,
and presently she regained conscious
ness, only to give startled shrek
at the sight of a strange man bending
over her.
Don't be scared, ma'am," said
Welleston almost apologetically, al
though his tongue was still thick with
liquor; you're all right. | won't hurt
you"
Even in his own amazement at hav-
ing spoken so gently, he took a sudden
sort of pleasure in the sob of relief she
gave.
ooh, was so afraid" she cried,
"and if the baby had stayed out all
night he would have died in this cold"
Little by little Welleston drew out
the story. She had ridden across
around the edge of the cup in the
mountains the night before with her
husband and some of the sheep mems
outfit who were seeking sheltered spots
for pasturage, if such existed on the
side of the mountains. She had en-
joyed her first nights camping out with
all the Zest of a new experience. And,
by starting in broad daylight across the
depression where the trail lay clear
before, her husband had been sure she
would return to camp safely instead
of having to push on into the mountains
with them.
But the pony fell and broke his
leg" she sobbbed, "and had to shoot
him with this" and she held out
tiny revolver of % caliber with pearl
handle. Welleston half smiled as he
looked at it.
In the few minutes she had been
talking his mind had suddenly settled
itself In that short time he had
been wrenched by terrible tempta-
tions. Here he was, an outcast, with
death before and behind-with human
foes as well as the winter sure to en-
counter him, as he knew the sudden
SHOWS would drive back the sheep men
who were seeking pasture. Here was
the wife of one of those enemies
alone and at his mercy. Even if he
died, cried the lower side of nature
would there not be some triumph in
leaving one memory which could never
be avenged? All the viler side of his
nature seemed to surge to the front
at once.
His tired pony could never carry
two persons down to the safety of
Pitts place, he knew. The woman
was complaining of her arm, which
seemed, indeed, to have been broken
by the fall She could never hold on
for that distance. If she grew faint,
she would drop the babe. He raised
the whiskey bottle once more, then
lowered it suddenly. For, as if re-
peated in his ear, he could hear the
words of the priest in speaking Of the
dead girl that afternoon that one
good deed Of hers will count"
1t was in the still hours Of the morning
that a strange party came slowly to
the door of Pitts barroom. The dance
hall was still as they passed, and al
though the saloon shone brilliantly
there was no sound of revelry within.
On an exhausted pony sat the dropping
figure of woman, wrapped in slicker
which was buttoned around the horn
Of the saddle and in which lay a sleeping
baby. Beside, leading the pony which
had constantly endeavored to turn from
the trail and drift with the storm,
was Welleston. Terribly exhausted from
the long walk after his recent illness,
and with his labors made even more
difficult by the snow which now lay
thickly everywhere and through which
his recently broken leg and high-heeled
riding boots, utterly unfit for walking,
l..