The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1925-06-18

tie of olives, guaranteed very old, and
one paper napkin. | say-why do you
ever do your hair up at all? It's rather
wonderful, falling all around like
that"
81 didn't take it down.
mo, | did. | ran it through my fin
gers like a miser with his gold-and
his untarnished copper threads, if a
miser has them too. Why not braid
it? We're going where there are no
fashions, Brena."
Today"
Tonight. Therell be a white moon
os big as a plate for hours. Well make
u hundred miles at least through the
depression that runs along the bed of
some prehistoric torrent to the north
west. Thanks to old Father Carlos,
the hard-headed Jesuit, It's on the
map. Easy to follow"
When the purple crepe of evening
had been spread over the baking sands
and the stars had been set out In their
infinite careless pattern in the high
desert sky, the car, with opened muf-
fer, turned her nose out of the trail
that followed the line of the railroad
and began to kick the sand behind as
If she were a hound. It was as if she
were leaving forever the sight and
memory of mankind.
This country is without mercy to
living things. After thirty miles of
hard pulling through the bare loose
surfaced plain, tossed gently about as
If they were riding In a motorboat
over the leng rollers of the sea, they
saw before them on the crest of a sand
wave q running pack Of coyotes, who
came up suddenly, black against the
moonlight like dog fish lifted into sight
on a wave. But after that all vegeta-
ton and even the cacti which stood
like trained seals, their flappers held
out as If ready to begin a dance, be-
came sparse, and the emptiness was
that of the frontier of death itself.
Peter turned to look at Brena. Her
face, illumined by the moon, was lifted
a little; with the hair blown back by
the hot wind, her eyes glistened like
those of one who rides toward battle
in a calm spirit. She felt, perhaps, his
gnze, and, turning, smiled. She Won
dered why he had been unwilling to
tell her why they went, what he
sought, the facts HI had found.
"Will you tell me-afterward?" she
asked.
"Yes-if I win," he answered. II
will tell you then. Before that I've no
particular right to do it-not till I'm
sure. The thing is too tremendous !"
When the moon had reached the
bottom of the bowl of the sky, De-
Wolfe looked again at his speedom-
eter.
Did you notice that u search
light nc longer picks up little insects
and turns them into flashes of silver?"
he asked.
yes"
He stopped the car to fill the radia-
tor.
1--WE are coming into the most arid
land in the world, where NJ rain falls
and there is no dew. 1t is the country
of eternal stiffness. There is no life;
not even the insects exist here. There
is no motion. There is no sound.
Listen!''
Brena looked about at the great fiat
disk Of the desert as she stood with
her hand on Peters shoulder; it was
like a world Of hardened concrete,
without fexibility, without a motion.
She listened and heard only her heart
and the throb of silence that comes
only in places of utter stiffness.
I'm glad In with you, Peter she
said. "There is a threat here, isn't
there?'
He nodded. We've been seventy
five miles. To a man on foot without
death with the sand dragging at the
feet-just like the flies one sees trying
to pull their legs along fly paper, with
the heat burning all moisture out of
the body, with the silence and the
stiffness inviting him to madness, and
his aching limbs gradually turning his
footpath around and around in smaller
circles to a center of DEATH
Peter had driven his car over the
great flat disk, SCARED with irregu-
larity, but nevertheless like a talking
machine record with its tiny impress
sions. The hours had called for en-
durance of smarting eyes that had
stared so long for gullies or chasms,
and of aching arm muscles that had
held the twists and tugs Of the front
wheels. He allowed the car to come
to a stop and shut off the engine.
both Of us need a rest and water
he said to Brena. and you need
breakfast"
She did not talk to him as he fixed
the car, nor when, having looked back
along the slight cut Of the old pre-
historic torrent bed now filled almost
to its old banks with drifting sands,
he squatted over a map, measuring
and consulting a pocket compass. His
anxiety was evident.
They went forward again. however,