The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-08-21

locked it, slipped the key into the
mail box. The Wigwam office. Yam
cey was not there. The Office was
dark. She shook the door, ratified the
knob, peered in, unlocked it with the
key in her handbag. Her heart was
pounding, but she was not afraid of
the darkness. A cats eyes cleaned
at her from the printing shop. She
struck a light. No one. No one. The
linotype machine grinned at her with
its white teeth. It's iron arm and
hand shook tauntingly at her In the
wavering light. With a sudden pre-
monition she ran to Yancey's desk,
opened the drawer in which he kept
his holster and six-shooters, now that
Usage had become SO effete as to make
them an unessential article Of dress.
They were not there. She knew then
that Yancey had gone.
Doc Valiant. She closed and locked
the door after her, stepped out into
the quiet blackness Of Pawhuska ave
nue.. Doc Valiant. He would so with
her. He would drive her out there.
But his Office and the room at the rear,
which was his dwelling, gave forth no
response. Gone out somewhere
case. Down the rickety wooden steps
of the two-story brick building. She
stood a moment in the street, looking
this way and that. She struck her
palms together in kind Of agony Of
futility. She would go alone If she
had horse and buggy. She could
rent one at the livery stable. But
what would they think-those men
at the stable? They were the
gossips OF the town. 1t would be all
over Usage, all over the county. Sabra
Cravat driving out into the prairie
alone in the middle of the night.
Something up. Well, she couldn't help
that. She had to go. She had to get
him.
Toward the livery stable, past the
Bixby house. A quiet little figure
rose from the blackness of the porch
where all through the day the travel
| ing men and loafers sat with their
chairs tilted back against the wall.
The red coal of his cigar was an eye
in the darkness.
"Sabrai What Is this! What are
you doing running around at this hour
of the night?"
Sol Levy, sitting there In the Okla
homa night. lonely little figure, sleep
less, brooding. He had never before
called her Sabra.
"Sol! Sol Gins out at the reser-
walton. Something's happened. I
know. feel it."
He did not scoff at this. as most
men would. He seemed to understand
her fear, her premonition, and to &C
cept it with oriental fatalism.
what do you want to do?"
"Take me out there. Hitch up and
drive me out there. Gins got the
buggy. He went out with her."
He did not ask where Yancey was.
He asked nothing. go home" he said,
"Wait on your porch. I'll get my rig
and come for you. They shouldn't
see you. 10 you want me to go home
with you first?"
"No. no. I'm not afraid. I'm not
afraid Of anything"
Sol Levy had two very fine horses;
really good animals. They won the
races regularly at the local fairs. The
little light rig with its smart rubber
| tires whirled behind them over the red
| dusty Oklahoma prairie roads. His
slim hands were not expert with
horses. He was a nervous, jerky
driver. They left the town behind
them, were swallowed up by the
prairie. The reservation was full
two hours distant. Sabra took off her
hat. The night air rushed against her
face, cooling it. A half hour.
LET me drive will you, Sol?"
without word he entrusted the
| reins to her strong, accustomed hands;
the hands of one who had come OF
generations of horse lovers. The ami
mails sensed the change. They leaped
ahead in the darkness The light
buggy rocked and bounced over the
rutted roads. Sol asked her nothing.
They drove in silence Presently she
began to talk, disjointedly. Yet. sur
prisingly enough, he seemed intui-
lively to understandable fill In the
gaps with his own instinct and imag-
ination. What she said sounded abb
surd he knew it for tragedy.
q. pineapple and marshmal-
low salad. ~. hates that kind of
thing Ruby Big Elk CHM
his face peyote The
resa Jump :.
81 see," said Sol Levy, soothingfy.
"Sure. Well. sure. The boy will be
all right. The boy will be all right.
Well. Yancey-you know how he is
Yancey. Do you think he has gone
away again? I mean-gone?"
81 don't know" Then. "Yes."
Three o'clock and after. They came
in sight of the Usage reservation, a
scattered settlement of sterile farms
and wooden shanties sprawled on the
bare unlovely prairie.
Darkness. The utter darkness that
precedes the dawn. Stiffness. except
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