The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1926-01-08
CHAPTER w

The Mystery of Blue Stone Canyon.
On the rich flats of Nameless, Nance
Allison titled her soil and her blue
eyes caressed the land. The home
stead was a fetish with her. 1t had
been her pappy's dream of empire. 1t
was hers. He had stuck by and toiled.
had secured his patent. made the good
start.
She asked nothing better than to
carry on, to see 1t prosper and endure.
But strange disasters had befallen
her. one after the other-first and bit
terest, the hidden rope stretched In
cattle trail two years back, just after
John Allison's mysterious death, which
sent young Buds pony tumbling to the
gulch below and left the boy to walk
lopsided ever after.
At that the girl had almost weak
ened in her stubborn purpose. She
had held the young head in her arms
many weary hour when the pain was
worst, and tried TO build plan Of a
future away from Nameless valley, but
Bud would not listen. The bare
thought made him fret and toss, sent
the red blood burning In his cheeks.
We'll never let 'em beat us out,
Nance" he would pant with his hot
breath, "the land is ours, safe and le-
gal, and no bunch o. cut-throats is
goin' to get 1t from us. Not while we
can stand-not while we can ride or
plow-or use a gun 70
But Nance would stop him always
there.
Thy rod and Thy staff they COM
fort me-" she would say gently. 1--WE
have no need of guns, Bud"
However, as the seasons passed,
each with its promise and Its ineyi-
table blight, her face had become
graver, less smiling There had been
the hay fire then-the fire In the night
where no fire was or had been. There
had been the six fat steers that disap-
peared from the range and were never
heard Of, though Bud rode Buekskin to
lather in fruitless search for them.
There had been the good harness cut
to pieces one night when Bud had for
gotten to lock 1t UP.
All these had been disasters In q
real sense to these people living so
meagerly with their scant possessions
And this year they were more than
poor, they were in debt to McKane for
the new harness that had to be, bought
to replace the other. But Nance
looked at her field of corn coming in
long rows of tender green on the
brown floor of the well-worked land
and hoped. She was prone to hope. 1t
was part of her equipment for the bat
tie of life. her shield before the lance
of her courage, her buckler of energy.
ut looks like a heavy crop, Nc
Kane" she told the trader honestly,
land I'll have far and away more than
enough for you'll think I'll have
enough left for my winter stake
Hope you do" said McKane. for
though he was none too scrupulous
where his own interests were con-
cerned, he felt vague admiration for
the game girl working her lonely
homestead in her dead fathers place.
So, with the crop spreading its four
delicate blades to the coaxing sun and
the hay knee-deep In the big fenced
fiat across the river, Nance Allison laid
by her labors for a while to rest her
body and refresh her SOUL
1--WE just got to ride the hills
Nanny" she said smiling, "got to fish
the holes In Blue Stone canyon, to
climb the slopes for little while. 1t
will be my only chance, you know
there's the hay to cut soon and the
corn to cultivate, and the cattle to look
after later. / can't work all the year,
Nanny, without little play"
At which the mothers tragic eyes
filed with tears-this for her daugh-
ter's only play-the riding in the lone
some hills-the fishing for trout In
Swallowed canyon-when her young
feet should have been tripping to the
Tilt of fddles-when she should have
had ribbons and muslin fiounces, and
sweetheart-the things of youth ere
her youth should pass! Pass, toiling
at the handles Of plowl 1t was
poignant pain indeed. that brought
those insistent tears. that withheld the
fear-urged protest.
So, in the golden mornings, Nance
began to saddle Buckskin and ride