Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1917-07-11


into full flight. simultaneously there
was a. iOlting crash and a muf1ed
squeak from the girl
Oh, lasting disgrace! Shorty had tax
en- out the corner post of the hotel
porch.
For many endless minutes he sat in
blue funk; then gradually his emo
lions quoted, for the girl chartered
gayly, either oblivious to his shyness
in the perfect beauty of the ride or
feigning a preternaturaI interest in the
ragged scenery through which or above
which they rolled, for the road follows
the comb of the great divide between
the north and middle branches Of the
river. Away down at the tip of this
granite tongue, far across the main
river, lies Auburn.
Hundreds Of feet below them CLEAN.
ed the Middle fork, ochre with the silt
Of the hydraulics that roared amid the
heavy timber
Under the girls tactful loquacity the
dust dissolved in Shorty's mouth, the
CONSTRUCTED paralysis left his larynx,
and sounds born of intellect began to
issue. hOarSe and unintelligible at first,
but approximately rhetoric of a kind.
Then as the wine Of her presence rose
in his head he Strengthened in his seat.
his sturdy legs braced themselves more
stiff1y against the iron box. and he
drove with skill and dash that sur
pr1Sed himself. Down the grade they
fled, the old coach yawning drunkenly,
through narrow gorges, round curves
whose long sides overhung green red
wood tops or tall, naked bluffs.
Never in his life had the little man
been so long in the company of the
unknown sex, and now this unwonted
intimacy with it's most lovely member,
together with the sense of being in
measure her protector, stimulated him
strangely. His chest swelled round
and full, and be thought:
IF the boys could only see me now!
| amt sweatin' a Bit" Occasionally
he stole furtive sidewise gIances, then
stared fixedly at the thirsty road ahead.
planting the impressions Of this lady
in his memory that they might later
grow and bloom into marvellous remin-
iscence. Manifestly such a visitation
as this could, in the economy of af-
fairs, occur but once in a lifetime.
do you always carry gum" the
girl inquired. gazing doubtfully at
Shorty's holster. from which protruded
carved ivory pistol butt. smoothed
by much usage
"Yep! learned the habit as
baby"
ITS an awfully big one, isn't it?"
"Sure! An she jumps like a goat
too. First time 1 shot her she bucked
me through a fence an then kicked at
me twice under the bottom rail We've
got acquainted now, though, an she
knows more'n some Swedes. Want to
try her?"
mo, nor hastily disclaimed the girl
1T might brighten the horses"
Not on your life-they're used to it.
'Tain't over two weeks ago that Black
Bart shot up the Auburn Kid-Wells
Fargo man, you know. He was settin'
right where you are"
What do you mean?" said the young
lady, moving uneasily. "Who is Black
Bart?'
Shorty gnzed incredulously at her,
but she smiled into his eyes till he
suddenly felt chilIs racing madly up
his spine.
'Er-ah-ain't you heard about Black
Bart, the outlaw? You must live
plumb out OF the world New York :?
| thought so. Folks down your way
is clean Off the map, amt they? Well,
this Bart is a road agent with leanin's
toward politeness an a - Of an
aim beg your pardon" he STAN
mered, while his face grew red and
hot Them little cusses hide around
the back of my mouth among the hol-
Ter teeth jest layln' to hop out like
that"
''Go on, please"
''Nobody's ever seen Black Bart's
face, though more than one claims
hankerin's for sight Of it, such bein'
mostly sheriffs an Wells Fargo direc-
tors. He works alone, an shotgun
messengers sort of riles him. They
must be associated with something sad
in his past, for he's acquired such an
aversion to 'em that he's laid out five
in eight months"
''What a horrible creature" said the
lady with heat.
''Oh, he might be considerable worse.
S'posin' he couldn't shoot straight, for
instance. He'd puncture me some day.
AS it is, hold my mitts up, chew to-
baccer an throw him the box when
he's through dtvertin' himself with my
escort. sort of like his nerve. too,
tacklin' a job single handed"
HE ought to be shOt"' said the pas
senger with emphasis.
''Mebbe so, but l couldn't do it. It
wouldn't be reg'lar. I'm the driver,
and drivers amt supposed to draw
cards in the game. Besides, amt a
6ghtin' man. If took shot at Black
Bart an missed he'd just insert his
self into the landscape an lay for me
on my next trip"