The Holly chieftain., 1923-08-02

| Sandy. I'm goin' over early on
Pronto an take the white blazed bay
along that Molly rode over the Goats
pass"
"Ride int She won't be dressed for
1t. travelin' on the train." said MI
randa.
Tive got hunch she WILL" Sandy
answered simply. "They got their
own private car. II she ain't why,
Sam can ride the bay back. But me
an Pronto. the bay an Grit are goin'
| thataway."
There were certain tones Of Sandys
voice that gave absolute finality to his
statements. He used them on this
occasion. The argument dropped. In
way Sandy was making the matter
test of Molly. If she was as anxious
as she wrote to fork broncho," If
she understood Sandy and he her, she
would feel that he would be waiting
with her mount for her to return to
the ranch western fashion. II not, 1t
meant that she was out Of the chrys-
alis and had become. not the busy
bee that belongs to the mesquite and
the sage, but gaudier, less respon-
sible dutterer among eastern flower
beds
Miranda's caravan started an hour
after Sandy left, she driving, Mormon
and Sam in the. back, each dressed in
his best. minus chaperajos and spurs,
but otherwise most typically the cow
boy and therefore out Of place-and
feeling it-as they sat stifiy in the
leatherette-lined tonneau. Miranda
was in starched linen, destitute Of all
ornament, a dark red ribbon at her
throat the only touch Of color, look
ing extremely efficient and, as Sam
whispered to Mormon, "a bit stand
offish."
The train rolled In. majestically. the
private car cleaning with varnish
and polished glass and brass, with.
white-coated darky flashing white
teeth on the platform as the fussy
local engine took the detached luxury
to the side-track designated for its
Hereford location. The fllvver was
parked and Miranda, Mormon and
Sam made one group little ahead
of the others, recognized by the crowd
as privileged.
If Wilson Keith, clad In tweeds
tailored on Fifth avenue, a little
portly, square-faced, confident, trife
condescending. typified the East,
Sandy was the West. A good horse
is the incarnation of symmetry, grace
and power. Sandy. erect in the saddle,
lean and keen, matched all of Prom
to's fitness. Man and mount both
eminently belonged to the land, SHIN
mering with sage, far-stretching to
the mountains, land that demanded
and bred such combination.
Keith stood by the railing of his
platform, the darky ready with the
| dismounting stool. He surveyed the
crowd affably, with the. polse Of
successful candidate assured of well
come, waving his hand in demi-salute
to Sandy, Sam and Mormon, lifting
his hat graciously to Miranda Bailey.
The man and the car emanated pros
perity. Yet, for all the booming Of
Casey Town, the finding of pay-are,
the sale Of shares, Keith's present
financial status was not all that he
trusted 1t might be within short time.
| 1t was part Of the technique Of his pro-
fession to assume mask and manner
Of financial success, and Of late he had
worn these until at times they jaded
him, but they were well designed,
well worn, and no one doubted but
that Wilson Keith was a man Of ready
millions.
Keith had dallied with OIL had spec
| ulated. plunged, been persuaded to in
vest heavily. He was beginning to
have a vague fear Of not being SO
certain as he would have wished as
to which end Of the line he had taken,
that Of the baited hook, or the end
that was attached to the reel that au-
tomatically plays the fish.
He sold gold and he was buying oil.
Others, partners with him In new en-
terprises in the petroleum field, were
making sudden fortunes. His turn
had not come yet, but they assured
him that his ventures promised even
more than those that had enriched
them. Faster than gold came out of
Casey Town, Keith used 1t in Okla.
homa and Texas.
The engine uncoupled and painted
of, leaving the car at rest on the
spur-track. The fox-faced secretary
came out, held the door open. Some
one followed Molly Casey. Sandy
surmised 1t must be Donald Keith, but
he had sight for nothing except the
slender figure whose radiant face, be-
tween Panama hat and dustcoat
of pongee silk. shone straight at him.
1t was Molly, but glorihed Molly,
woman, not girl. The freckles had
gone. the snub nose had become de-
fined, the eyes OF Irish blue seemed
to have deepened In hue back of their