Evening journal., 1923-02-01

who offers herself as a stake for Bride
man. Velantrie fHs Loia's sash with
gold and tells her 10 20 home 70 her
father.
Presently they swung far and
away toward the north and west. 10
skirt the foot OF the Mesa Grande
that lifted its fat top high above the
surrounding levels. 30 find the mar
row trail that went up IT'S south side
in steep and dangerous slants. and
10 climb 70 its high tableland where
the ancient Indian huts stood. hol-
low and deserted. whipped by the
winds and eaten by their sands.
These silent places held a lure Tor
Val Harmon, had always drawn her
from the time when, a little child,
hire father had first brought her here
to scan the world below.
Val sat straight in her saddle. her
hands folded on the pommel.
And as they rested so in the hush
of the eternal silence alone on the
mesa with fits ghosts of a vanished
people. something moved on the
plain below far on TO the west, and
caught their searching gaze.
A band OF horsemen rode there.
swiftly. sweeping out OF the north
where lay the town OF Santa Le-
andra, and one shot out ahead,
leader.
The girl shaded her eyes with her
hand and watched this rider and his
horse. A red horse it was--a great
red horse whose name lifted above
him like a cloud. whose beautiful |
body lay stretched along the earth |
in slamming flight. whose whole
make and seeming were oddly IA
miliar.
For n hong moment she watched,
while her eyes grew round with won
der and her lips fell apart. Then
she dropped her hand and laid II on
Redstars neck as 81 she made sure
of mis- living presence.
sweetheart" she said at last in
credulously, IF you weren't here De
meath me ia swear YOU ran yonder,
as sure as deathi''
And far Off there where he rode
like the wind itself toward the mys-
terry of the a1l-engulfing Border, We
iantrfe rose in MS stirr1lps and
scanned the solitary horse and rider,
standing Ike a statue high on the
mesa,s edge.
He was too far away 90 see the
wondruus beauty OF the red king
facing him, or to know his rider for
a woman. Blu with his characters
ito gzfety ne stood up for a second |
and sweeping the broad hat from his |
f,, .-drs~1aa
And Val Hannon, answering the |
signal, raised a hand above
her head.
CHAPTER "
The Gross I'm the Wilderness
The summer drowsed upon the
and. The winds had died this day
md the brazen sun was monarch.
where me little Antelope trdckled
luggishly between its low banks, TO
lurse the struggling growth of trees
hat lined Il, the heat was some
What tempered. Cottonwoods grew
lere, tall and slim. and many was
atcha trees TO spread their lacy
shadow, and there were desert flow
ars planted in stone-edged beds
among the sand, while the sword
like spikes of the maguey plant
reached out TO catch the unwary.
This was desert garden, rugged,
grassless, Injured to heat and drought,
yet pleasant 90 the eye and mind as
many a more favored spot was not.
TO the west of the garden and be-
gond the trees. standing out against Q
The sun and the dSsert winds ike al {
speared and shielded warrior. the q
long blank walls of the Mission took I
the light on their pale expanse in a Z
way TO be seen for many miles across Z
The plains. =
Poems, WATTS on the changing tides
OF fortune. refugees from the turbu- p
lent land across the Border. those i
broken and dispossessed by the war
ring factions that destroyed their J
own and got nowhere. the sick
mind and soul and body-these came