The Washington times., 1918-12-08

OF her broken and bleeding.
God! but there Is one thing no
man can face-the faith of a woman
struck back into her heart!
Billy and the revolver waVered
in one blindness, and the messen-
ger Sprang to his feet.
Get him." he cried. and his bull
let went wide Of the mark. Confu-
sion came with the moment. Men
leaped to their pockets for weapons
and signalod the team coming up.
Billy wasted nothing Of the aid
Betty held for him. He plunged
into the brush at the east With his
brain and his heart In the thrall Of
his shock. About him spit, and
crashed, and split . rain Of bullets,
and he knew there. were men Of
: them ready to follow him On the
spot.
He swore himself into energy, and
beat on through the thick, thorny
underbrush with the hope Of their
disorder sustaining him. There
was . small stone corral some one
had told him of-Rudy had told
him Of! Il was hemmed IN with
rocks. and buckeye. and chsparral.
For Q theatre Of war Il was safest
= for q man inside e, and there was
only one approach Rudy had once
found herb roots there.
He turned sharp to the south and
traiied back again, conscious that
his scent was strong and his arm
was true-and TO the devil with
men who had lived peaceful lives
In the fields Of their country!
Wet drops OF something warm
trickled down MS back. There must
be q wound there. Billy forced his
way along, cutting through tangles.
ieaping the rocks and scaling the
boulders, only hating for seconds
TO separate insect noises from that
Of the hunt Of men.
The long, slim shadows OF the
late afternoon had been swallowed
In the monotone Of twilight when
Billy Owen sat on his heels behind
the walls Of a stone corral on the
sheer slope OF q Sierra hin. The
fever from his wound was racking
his head, but the keenest PAIN that
he suffered was not from that And
there could be no moment q time
given over to the undisturbed
thought Of Il. It was only the ever
present consciousness through the
Intensity Of attention he imposed
on himself. His senses were pre-
ternaturaIly alert; they made
record of the night-millers' winging
and the life of the h1ards IN the
wall at his face.
But It was Rudy's face that was
soaring with FIRE the brain Of the
man-Rudy's face, which had
known only love for him, and trust
In him, and pride Of him Il went
over him cold that her scorn Of
him might set them on his track.
She might guess what he would
make for.
Hark! there could be no mistake
IA step. He had been waiting
hours for II. Il could come He
needed no change Of movement to
1Cuu AuIO oAACASCs
There It comes again, on and up,
The fool! Does he think his life is
worth juggling for?
A hand shows through the bushes
at the gate Of the corral Billy is
forced to turn; 1t is some one who
knows the run Of the land. A black
figure thrusts through the branches
and Betty throws out her ball OF
death.
BILLY" he heard in its last terri
BILE note Of misunderstanding.
He sits in the open and holds her
in his arms. Her black hair hangs
over her face, and he thrusts it
back to clasp her against his
breast, against his lips.
At midnight they find Billy Owen,
the bandit. There IL a womsn in
his arms, and their lives have gone
out on a common search.
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