The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1922-08-12
CHAPTER w

cn1l0 reached the bottom OF the grade,
and again stopped to survey the scene
of defeat
Dangerous character?' Fair.hild
hardly knew why he asked the ques
ton. The sheriff smiled grimly.
IF ii was the fellow we were after.
he was plenty dangerous We were
trailing him on word from Denver
described the car and said he'd pulled
daylight hold-up on a pay-wagon
for the Smelter company-so when
the car went through Golden, we took
up the trail couple of blocks behind
| He kept the same speed for little
while until one of my deputies got a
little anxious and took shot at
tire. Man, how he turned on the juice
1 thought that thing was jack rabbit
the way it went up the hill l guess
it's us back to the office"
The automobile went its way then
| and Fairchild his, still wondering
And so thoroughly did the incident en-
| gross him that it was not until a truck
! had come to full stop behind him,
| and driver mingled a shout with the
| footing of his horn that he turned to
| allow its passage.
Didn't hear you, old man. he apol-
| ogized. Gould you give a fellow a
| lift?'
"Guess So" 1t was friendly. even
though a bit disgruntled; ''hop on"
And Fairchild hoped, once more to
sit on the tailboard, swinging his legs,
but this time his eyes saw the ever
| changing scenery without noticing it.
| In spite of himself, Fairchild found
himself constantly staring at a vision
of a pretty girl in a riding habit, with
dark-brown hair straying about
equally dark-brown eyes, almost fren-
| zied in her efforts to change a tire in
time to elude pursuing sheriff. Some
way, it all didn't blend. If she hadn't
committed some sort of depreciation
against the law, why on earth was she
willing to part with ten dollars, mere
| ly to save few moments in changing
a tire and thus elude a sheriff? If
not moment of explanation have sat
listed anyone of the fact?
1t was too much for anyone, and
! Fairchild knew it. Yet he chung grim
ly to the mystery as the truck clat-
tered on, mile after mile A small
! town gradually was coming into view.
A mile more, then the truck stopped
with a jerk.
"Where you bound for, pardnerT'
| "Ohadi.'
"That's it, straight ahead 1 turn
off here. Miner?"
Fairchild shrugged his shoulders
and nodded noncommittally
"Just thought I'd ask. Plenty of
work around here for single and
double jackers. Things are beginning
to look up bit-at least in silver
Thanks Do you know a good place
to stop?"
house. Everybody goes there, sooner
or later. You'll see it on the left-hand
side Of the street before you get te
the main block. Good old girl: knows
how to treat anybody in the mining
game from operators on down. She
was here when mining was mining!'
Fairchild lifted his bag from the
rear of the vehicle, waved a farewell
to the driver and started into the vii
lage And then the vision of the Cir
departed, momentarily, to give place
to other thoughts, other pictures, of 6
day long gone.
The sun was slanting low, throwing
deep shadows from the hills into the
little valley with its chattering, milk
white stream, softening the scars o.
the mountains with their great refuse
dumps; reminders of hopes Of twenty
years before and as bare of vegeta
ton as in the days when the pick anG
CAD and drill of the prospector tore
the rock loose from it's hiding place
under the surface of the ground. The
scrub pines of the almost barrier
mountains took on a fluffier, softer
tone; the jutting rocks melted ava!
into their own shadows; it was pic
ture of peace and of memories.
And it had been here that Thornton
Fairchild, back in the nineties, haC
dreamed his dreams and fought hi
fight. A sudden cramping caught thu
sons heart, and it pounded with some
thing akin to fear. The old fOrebOd
ing of his fathers letter had conn
upon him, the mysterious thread o
that elusive, intangible Thing grea
enough to break the will and resist
ance of a strong man and turn hin
into a weakiing-silent, white-haire,
sitting by a window, waiting 70
death What had it been? Why ha
It come upon his father? How coul
1t be fought? He brushed away tn
beady perspiration with a gesture a
most Of anger, then with look Of r
lief, turned in at a small white gat
toward a big, rambling building whic
proclaimed itself, by the sign on I'll
door, to be Mother Towards boardin
! house.
A moment of waiting, then he face
a gray-haired, kindly faced womal
who stared at him with wide-ope
eyes as she stood, hands on hips, b.
fore him.
Don't you tell me I don't kno
you! If you amt Fairchild. I
never feed another miner corned be-
and cabbage as long as L live. Ain
you, now?' she persisted, "afn't you
Fairchild?'
The man laughed in spite of hin
self. You guessed it,"
D. you're Thornton Fairchilds boy
a She had reached out for his handba
IT and then, busting about him, Dire
him into the big ''parior." Didn't