New Britain herald., 1921-08-11

shoulders back, giving him a defiant pose.
 Take him out there and head him
 the right way, boys," Kerr directed. | Tom Hargus rode ahead, leading
 Whetstone by the reins. Kerr was not
 following. At Lambert's last sight of
 him he was still looking into the fire,
 as If fascinated by the sight of it.
 A hundred yards or less from the
 hre they stopped. Tom Hargus turned
 Whetstone to face back the way they
 had come, threw the reins over the l saddle-horn, rode up so close Lambert
 could feel his breath in his face. You made me brush off a nigger's
 hat when you had the drop on me,
 and carry a post five miles That's
 the shoulder I carried It on!'' He drove his knife into Lambert s right shoulder with the words. The steel grated on bone
 brushed nigger off under your
 gun one time, said old Nick Hargus. spurring up on the other side. Now I'll brush you little!" Lambert felt the hot streak of a
 knlfe-blade in the thick muscle of his
 back. Almost at the same moment
 his horse leaped forward so suddenly
 that 1t wrenched every joint in his l bound. stiff body squealing in pain. ne knew that one of them had l plunged a knife in the animals
 haunch. There was loud laughter l the sudden rushing of hooves, yells, and curses as they came pressing after l him. Whetstone galloped on, mad in
 the pain of his wound, heading straight toward the fire. Lambert believed, as those who urged him on toward 1t believed, that '! no horse man ever rode could jump that fiery gorge. On the brink of it.
 his pursuers would stop, while he, poWerless to check or turn his horse, I would plunge over to perish in his l bonds smothered under the struggling beast pierced by the transcendent agonies of fire
 This was the last thought that rose coherently out of the turmoil of his senses as the f1repit opened before his eyes. He heard his horse squeal again in tho pain of another knife thrust to madden it to it's destructive leap. Then a swirl of the confused senses as of released waters, the lift l of his horse as 1t sprang, the heat of l the fire in his face.
 As Lambert hung over the fire in
 that mighty leap, his soul recoiled.
 His strength rushed into one great
 cry. which still tore at his throat as
 his horse struck racking him with a force that seemed to tear him joint from joint.
 The shock of this landing gathered l his dispersed faculties. There was fire around him, there was smoke in his nostrils, but he was alive. His horse
 was on its feet, struggling to scramble up the bank on wavh il had landed, the earth breaking under it's hinder hoofs threatening to precipitate it back into the fire that its tremendous leap had cleared.
 CHAPTER VII. Whetstone Comes Home. It was hours afterward that the fence rider opened his eyes and saw Vesta Philbrook, and closed them again, believing it was deliriur1 of | his pain. Then Taterleg spoke on the other side of the bed, and he knew that he had come through his perils into gentle hands.
 That evening, when the pain had l eased out of his head, Lambert told Vesta what he had gone through. l
 breaks them,'' she said in bitterness. speaking as to herself. "It isn't worth 1 the price!"
 :; 'Never .nind it, vesta," he sootheA, l putting out his hand She took it
 between her own, and held it, ant [ great comfort came to him in her l touch.
 l Next morning Vesta came in ar rayed in her riding habit, her som- | brero on, as she had appeared the | first time he saw her.
 She was wearing her pistol, and ap- peared very competent with it on her hip, and very high-bred and above that station of contention and strife. ! He was troubled not little at sight of her thus prepared to take up the battles which she had renounced and surrendered into his hands only yes Iterday She must have read it in his eyes.
 I'm only going to watch the fence and repair it to keep the cattle in if they cut it.'' she said. "I'N not take the offensive, even if see her-them cut fting it; I'll only act on the defensive
 in any case. I promise you that IDuke."
 ! He was uneasy for vesta that day
 in spite of her promise to avoid trouble, and fretted a good deal over
 his inca apacitated state. But finally he
 fell asleep.
 He woke late in the afternoon
 when the sun was yellow on the wall the shadow of the cottonwood leaves quivering like dragonfiies' wings.
 On the little table beside his bed
 near his glass, a bit of white paper lay. He looked at 1t curi2usly.s Ii bore writing in ink and marks as o, a pin.
 II Just to say hello, Duke.
 That was the message, unsigned folded as it had been pinned to tht wire. Vesta had brought it and lef
 it there while he slept. He drew himself up with stiff care fulness and read it again, holding i in his fingers then and gazing il | abstraction out of the wind ow