The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1917-04-26
CHAPTER XXI-continued.


eyes. His whisky-seamed face bright
ened into the ghost of smile. "What
Tn going to ask you to do" continued
De Spain, ''is a mans job. You can
get into the gap without trouble. You
are the only man l can put my hand
on just now that can. want you to
ride over this morning and hang out
around Duke MOrgan's place till you
can get a chance to see Miss Man.
At the mention of her name Bull
shook his head a moment in affirma-
tive approval. "She's queenw he
exclaimed with admiring but pungent
explosives. ga queen!"
81 think so, Bull. But she is in
troublesome circumstances. You know,
Nan and I"
Bull winked in many ways.
"And her Uncle Duke is making US
trouble, Bull. 1 want you to find her,
speak with her, and bring word to me
as to what the situation is. That
doesn't mean you're to get drunk over
therein fact, l don't think anybody
over there would give you a drink
"Don't believe they would" -
"And you are to ride back here with
what you can find out just as quick,
after you get into the clear, as horse
will bring you"
Bull passed his hand over his mouth
with q show of resolution. 1t indi-
Gated that he was pulling himself to-
gether. Within half an hour he was
on his way to the gap.
For De Spain hours never dragged
as did the hours between Bulls start
ing and the setting of the sun that
night without his return. And the sun
set behind Music mountain in drift
of heavy clouds that brought rain. All
evening it fell steadily. At eleven
O'Clock De Spain had given up hope
of seeing his emissary before morn
ing and was sitting alone before the
stove in the Office when he heard the
sound of hOofs. In another moment
Bull Page stood at the door.
He was a sorry sight. Soaked to
the skin by the steady downpour !;
rain dripping internationally from his
frayed, hat, his ragged beard and ia
tered coat; shaking with the cold as
if gripped by an ague, Bull, picking
his staggering steps to the fire, and
sinking in a heap into a chair, SYM
bolized the uttermost tribute of man.
hood to the ravages Of whisky. He
was not drunk. He had not even been
drinking; but his vitality was gone.
He tried to speak. 1t was impos-
sible. His tongue would not frame
words, nor his throat utter them. He
could only look helplessly at De
Spain as De Spain hastily made him
stand up on his shaking knees, threw
a big blanket around him, sat him
down, kicked open the stove drafts,
and called to McAlpin for more whis-
ky to steady the wreck of it crouch
ing over the fire.
McAlpin, after considerable and re-
luctant search, produced a bottle, and
unwilling, for more reasons than one,
to trust it to Bulls uncertain posses
sion, brought a dipper. Bull held the
dipper while De Spain poured. Meal
pin. behind the stove, hoped first on
one foot and then on the other as De
Spain recklessly continued to pour.
When the liquor. half filled the cup,
McAlpin put out unmistakable dis
tress signals, but Bull, watching the
brown stream, his eyes galvanized at
the sight, held fast to the handle and
made no sign to stop. "Bull!' thun-
dered the barn boss with an emphatic
word. "That is Elpaso's bottle. What
are you dreaming of, man? Mr.. de
Spain, you'll kill him. Don't We see
he can't tell We to stop?"
Bull, with the last Pickering spark
of vitality still left within him, looked
steadily up and winked at De Spain.
McAlpin, outraged, stamped out of
the room. Steadying the dipper in
both hands, Bull with an effort passed
one hand at the final moment prelimi-
nariiy over his mouth, and, raising