The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1919-04-03


checked him sharply.
Leave that basket alone. That's
Jeremy Taylor, and he's the touches;
Maltese that ever spit. II hurts his
feelin'S enough to be shut up that
way, and if a stranger handled him
he'd have fit. I'll hold him in my
lap as we drive. No, you needn't help
me. Eve been gettin' in and out over
wheels alone all my life, and this buck
board is low. I'm glad that you don't
use overhead check-reinS on your
horses. belong TO the Prevention OF
Cruelty to Animals, and I'm sorry to
see you wear spurs"
They were trotting swiftly over the
prairie, and Brad had recovered his
faculties sufficiently to give brief an
swers to Miss 'Gordon's running fire OF
questions and observations. Suddenly
the man invOluntarily checked the
mustangs that lie drove, and gave vent
to a smolhered exclamation. He
looked in perpleXed alarm at Miss Cor
don.
Whats the matter? Sick?" she
queried.
He pointed TO a hOrseman some dis
lance in front of them
bill Jukes." he answered briefly.
Hes promised to shoot me at sight,
and he's likely drunk enough not to
know whether you're man or woman.
You drive an I'll get out an meet him
on foot. I'll come back after We soon,
or elSe-Sykes. a mile north of the
station, will bring We over to Turkey
Creek"
As he proffered the reinS, Brad al
ready had his revolver out of his belt.
She gave an indignant sniff
Its likely I'll drive off and leave
you to be shot! Give me them reins.
and you look to your guns. Well drive
by Mr.. Jukes at pretty good pace.
and if you should happen TO hurt him
may the Lord have mercy on him =.
Shaking off Brads restraining touch,
and deaf to his representations, she put
the whip TO the ponies, and the buck.
board lurched forward on the deeply.
cut trail. Jukes was bearing down
upon them, his face inhamed with
drunken rage. Two or three shots
whistled past them. Miss Gordon held
the reinS tightly and ducked her head.
Brad fired repeatedly as they passed
and just beyond them Jukes reeled
heavily from the saddle With an eff
fort the woman brought the team to a
standstill.
TIN glad fastened Polly's cage on
good and Tight" was tho first excla-
nation. Then, noticing a broken check
rein: IN get a piece of Irvine out OF
my pocket TO tie up that strap Why
your sleeves all bloody. l do believe
that nasty wretch hit YOU"
jest my arm, guess, Miss Cor
dom replied the man, little uncer-
tainly; but l hope-that is. I'm
afeerd I've done for JukeS :"
They looked back. The outlaw lay
motionless by the trail, his bride rein
still over his nerveless arm.
II.
As the rays of the setting sun slant
ed level across the prairie, Il strange
procession stopped at Turkey Creek
ranch. Miss Gordon still drove, super
intended by Jeremy Taylor, who
thrust his head through a hole in the
lid of his basket and glared balefllly
at the universe in general. Beside her
sat Brad, pale under his tan, with his
right arm swung from his neck. At
the tAii of their chariot, so to speak,
was tied the horse Of Bill Jukes. and
fastened in the saddle, plentifulIy
bandaged and beSmeared with blood.
was the man himself. His manner
was dropping in the extreme, while
from an opening in the cage cover
Polly bestowed an unbr0ken success.
sion Of choice epithets upon the cap
tive.
Miss Gordon, of them all. was I'M
ruiiied and She explained with a
cheerfulness that was almost airy:
"JukeS rode down on us, sh00tin
and swearin' dreadful, and Mr.. Merreu
had to defend us, of course, so took
the lines. Then we couldn't 20 OFF and
leave the man layin' there, maybe to
die, so we went back, and | bundaged
him up, and we brought him along.
You can do what you want to with
him. | don't reckon he feels very
spruce, seem that he was shot through
the lung, an that POlly's been swear
In at him every step of the way. Mr..
Merreil, here, got bullet in his arm.
and has hled considerable, though it's
only a flesh wound"
The gods on Olympus may have
been surprised to see Minerva spring
full-panoplied from the brain of J0ye,
but that was the merest ghost of an
emotion compared with what the men
of Turkey Creek ranch felt when this
splendid apparitiOn in dusty black
cashmere dawned upon them. with her
nOnchalant tale of duelry. leading as
captive one of the deadliest outlaws of
the country. For ii minute there were
murmurS of Explanations and chances
of amaZement; and then, as Miss Cor
don, bearing Jeremy Taylor. clambered
to the ground. Paper Collar Joe the
Chesterfield of the ranch, gracefully
advanced.