The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1923-05-02
CHAPTER
a Gentleman of the Range.

When Madeline Hammond stepped
from the train at Ell Cajon, New Mex
leo, it was nearly midnight, and her
first impression was of a huge dark
space of cool, windy emptiness,
TRANCE and silent, stretching away
under great blinking white stars.
Miss, there's no one to meet YOU"
said the conductor anxiously.
Il wired my brother" she replied.
.He will be here presently. But, If he
should not come-surely l can find a
hotelT"
There's lodgings to be had. If
you'll excuse me-this Is no place for
q lady like you to be alone at night.
It's a rough little town-mostly Mex
leans, miners, cowboys. And they
carouse a lot. Besides, the revolu-
ton across the border has stirred up
some excitement along the line. Miss,
l guess it's safe enough, If YOU"
THANK you. l am not in the least
afraid"
AS the train started to glide away
Miss Hammond walked toward the
dimly lighted station. She entered
the empty waiting-room. An oil-lamp
gave out a thick yellow light. A tele-
graph instrument clicked family.
Madeline Hammond crossed the
waiting-room to a window and, hold
ing aside her veil, looked out. AT first
she could descry only a few dim lights,
and these blurred in her sight. AS
her eyes grew accustomed to the dark
ness she saw a superbly built horse
standing near the window. Beyond
was a bare square. Through a hole
in the windoW-glass came a cool
breeze, and on it breathed a sound
that struck coarsely upon her cara
discordant mingling Of laughter and
shout, and the tramp of boots to the
hard music of a monograph.
"Western revelry," unused Miss
Hammond as she left the window.
"Now, what to do? I'll wait here.
Perhaps the station agent will return
soon, or Alfred will come for me-"
AS she sat down to wait she re-
viewed tie causes which accounted
for the remarkable situation In which
she found herself. That Madeline
Hammond should be alone, at a late
hour. in a dingy little western rail-
road station. was indeed %eXtraordi-
nary.
The close of her debutante year
had peer married by the only unhappy
experience of her life-the disgrace
of her brother and his leaving home.
She dated the beginning of a certain
thoughtful habit of mind from that
time. and a dissatisfaction with the
brilliant life society offered her.
There had been months of unrest,
of c~uriously painful wonderraent that
her position, her wealth, her pop
ularitv no longer sufficed. She be-
IIeyed she had lived through the
dreams and fancles of a girl to be-
come n woman of the world. And she
had gone on as before, a part of the
glittering show, but no longer blind
tn the truth-that there was nothing
in her luxurious life to make it sig
ni6cant. And AT last she knew what
she needed-to be alone, = brood for
long hours, 10 SuL6 Oul Oh lOlClg, 81
lent, darkening stretches, to watch
the stars, to race her soul, to find her
rel. self.
Then it was she had first thought of
visiting the brother who had gone
west to cast his fortune with the
cattlemen. As 1t happened, she had
friends who were on the eve of start
ing for California, and she made a
quick decision to travel with them.
When she calmly announced her inten-
ton Of going out west her mother had
exclaimed in CONSERVATION and her
father, surprised into pathetic memory
of the black sheep of the family, had
stared at her with glistening eyes.
'NYhy, Madeline! You want to see
that wild boy !" Then he had re-
yerted to the anger he still felt for
his hayward son, and he had for