The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-05-15

WulSkeES WILL quart HASH.
Out of the well-bred murmur Of hor-
ror that now arose about the Venable
board there emerged the voice Of
Felice venable, sharp-edged with dis
approval. "And the girl The girl
with the black" Unable to say 1t.
Southern.
1.-THE girl and funny, never did
learn her name-were in the lead be-
cause we had stuck to the old trail.
The girl was close behind me. That
thoroughbred she rode was built for
speed, not distance. A race horse,
blooded. could hear him blowing, He
was trained to short bursts. My In
dian pony was just getting his second
wind as her horse slackened into a
trot. We had come nearly sixteen
miles. l was well in the lead by that
time, with the girl following. We had
left the others behind, hundreds going
this way, hundreds that, scattering for
miles over the prairie. Then saw
that the prairie ahead was afire. The
tall grass was blazing. Only the mar
row trail down which we were gal
Looping was open. On either side of it
was a wall of flame. Some skunk of
sooner, sneaking in ahead of the
Run, had set the blaze to keep the
boomers off, saving the land for him
self. The dry grass burned like oiled
paper. I turned around. The girl was
there, her racer stumbling, breaking
and going on, his head lolling now.
saw her motion with her hand. She
was coming. ! whipped off my hat
and clapped 1t over Whitefoot's eyes,
gave him the spurs, crouched down
low and tight, shut my own eyes, and
down the trail we went into the fur
mace. Hot! It was hi I could
smell the singed hair on the TANKS of
the mustang. My own hair was SINCE
ing. I could feel the flames licking
my legs and back. Another hundred
yards and neither the horse nor / could
have come through it. But we broke
out into the open, choking and blinded
and half suffocated. I looked down
the lane Of flame. The girl hung on
her horses neck. Her skullcap was
pulled down over her eyes. She was
coming through game. I knew that
my land-the piece that had come
through hell for-was not more than a
mile ahead. I knew that hanging
around here would probably get me a
shot through the head, for the sooner
that started that fire must be lurking
somewhere in the high grass ready to
kill anybody that tried to lay claim to
his land. I began to wonder, too, If
that girl wasn't headed for the same
section that was bound for. I made
up my mind that, woman or no woman,
this was a race, and devil take the
hindmost. My poor little pony was
coughing and sneezing and trembling.
Her racer must have been ready to
drop. wheeled and went on. kept
thinking how. when I came to Little
Bear creek, I'd battle my little mus
tang's nose and face and his poor
ileaving TANKS, and how l mustn't let
him drink too much, once he got his
muzzle in the water.
"Just before I reached the land I
was riding for had to leave the trail
and cut across the prairie. l could
see clump Of elms ahead. l knew
the creek was near by. But just be-
fore got to it came on one of those
deep gullies you find in the plains
country. Almost ten feet across this
one was. and deep. No way around
it that could see, and no time to
look for one. put Whitefoot to the
leap and, by Cd, he took it, landing
on the other side with hardly an inch
to spare. heard wild scream be-
hind me. I turned. The girl on her
spent racer had tried to make the
gulch. He had actually taken tia
thoroughbred and a gentleman, that
animal-but he came down on his
knees just on the farther edge, rolled,
and slid down the gully side into the
ditch. The girl had flung herself free.
My claim was fifty yards away. So
was the girl, with her dying horse.
She lay there on the prairie. AS l
raced toward henry own poor little
mount was nearly gone by this time
she scrambled to her knees. l can see
her face now, black with cinders and
SCOT and dirt, her hair all over her
shoulders, her cheek bleeding where
she had struck a stone in her fall, her
black tights torn, her little short skirt
sagging. She. sort of sat up and
looked around her. Then she stag
gered to her feet before reached her
and stood there swaying. and pushing
her hair out Of her eyes like some one
who'd been asleep. She pointed down
the gully. The black of her face was
streaked with tears.
"'Shoot him. she said. 4 can't.
His two forelegs are broken. heard
them crack. Shoot him! For Gods
sake'
$50 off my horse and down to the
gully's edge. There the animal lay.
his eyes all whites, his poor legs
doubled under him, his TANKS black
and sticky with sweat and dirt. He
was done for. all right. l took out
my six-shooter and aimed right be-
tween his ewes He kicked once sort