The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1917-07-13
Miners
Luck
Story Of a Girls Bravery
By ELlNOR MARSn

claim when he saw something glisten
in the sunlight. STOPPING, he picked
up a small chunk Of ore and held 1t
near to his eyes.
Clarkson threw aside his pick.
He posted his notice of possession BY
laying the paper on the newly broken
ground and placing stone on top to
keep it from blowing away. Any one
who jumped that claim now might ex.
pect the wild justice Of the mining
camp to be visited upon him.
| AS he drew near the camp the thun-
der Of the stamp mills smote the air,
and the blur of smoking chimneys
dimmed the eastern sky.
Pete Clarkson's persistent Efforts and
logged determination to find some
thing that would enrich him sufficient
ly to offer Molly Gray home had re-
suited in his striking what was prob
ably the lost vein Of the Great Dome
ledge.
He stopped once at the house Of Jim
Gray. superintendent Of the Great
Dome and Molly Gray. sweet as
rose. with gray eyes, brown hair, pink
cheeks and pink gown. came to the
door.
How'd you make out, Peter" she
asked. her little brown hand lost in his
great earth stained palm.
Its the Molly Gray" he said quiet
ly, thrusting the lump of ore into her
other hand.
"Oh. Pete" she cried joyfully.
"where?"
ION Crow ledge, near Crow rock"
where We saw the sunset that
night? 2"
Same place."
What were you doing there, Pete"
she asked. with dimpling cheeks.
"Prospectin'." he grinned sheepishly
Then, passing his hand over his I'M
shorn chin, he nodded toward the
Great Dome smelter. Il guess 1t will
be all right now down there" he said
confidently.
you know 1t has always been all
right with me, Pete" said Molly softly
II know" he said soberly. I'm 60
in down now to git out my papers.
I'll stop on my way back"
Haven't you registered yet" she
asked anXiOusly.
Nope; stopped here first thing. Got
her staked all right, though, and the
| name posted. Coin back there to
make camp. So long; see you later"
And with backward wave Of his hand
he lOped down toward the registering
| office.
From the doorway of the cabin at
the head Of the street Molly, holding
a pair Of feldglasses to her pretty
eyes, watched him enter the Office
Then her gaze fell upon the figure Of
a man sprawled upon the rough veran-
da encircling the one roomed building
A wide brimmed hat was drawn over
his eyes, and to all appearances he was
lost in slumber.
Molly looked at the open window
over the mans head and calculated
that il Pete Clarkson announced his
discovery in his usual bluff, hearty ac-
cents it could readily be heard by the
man ON the veranda If he were awake
and listening. and If it should prove
to be Dave Lumly, who was own
brother to Jim Lumly, the registrar
Of claims, why, then, Pete Clarkson
would have a race for his claim, that
was all. She remembered the case of
Allan Smith, the young prospector
from the east who made a find and
staked his claim. Before he could reg
lister it and return to the scene Dave |
Lumly had news of the find and had |
jumped the claim. With his brother
to back his title TO it, Lumly had de-
fed the sheriff and his posse to GUST |
him. Young Smith had shot himself. |
and, after all, the mine had proved !
worthless.
All, the somnolent one arose slowly, |
stretched himself, took careful sur
vey of the street; then. with a swift /
movement, leaped into the saddle of
waiting sorrel and rode out Black lane.
1t was Dave Lumly.
Presently she saw Pete emerge from
the registry office and cross the street
to the assayers. With sudden energy
she re-entered the house, scrubbed a
few lines informing Pete Of her where
abOuts in case she could not find him,
pinned the note to the front door, sad
died her little mare Daisy, mounted
and dashed down the street toward the
assay Office.
Pete Clarkson?" repeated Browning.
"Just left here for down the street"
IF he comes back tell him to go up
to our place. There's a message for
him. WIN you tell himr" she INQUIRED
breathlessly.
Sure thing. Miss Molly" he said
heartily: then he watched her disap-
pear down the long street and out
upon the short cut through the canyon
to Crow mountain. The afternoon sun
shone on her hatless head and the
light wind fiuttered her pink skirts as
the little mare broke into a gallon.
Once she drew rein and took a swift
survey Of the country.