The Coolidge examiner., 1931-10-09
CHAPTER VIl-Continued.


-12-
Yancey rose from his desk. He
turned mis- rare full gaze upon her.
his handsome eyes aglow. Honey,
let's get out of this. Clubs, sleeves,
church suppers-G-d Let's get
our hundred and sixty acre allot-
ment OF Cherokee strip land and
start a ranch-raise cattle-live in
the open-ride-thi town life is 10
gOOd-lt's hideous."
Her arms fell, leaden, to her
side. Ranch? WheTe?'
you're not listening. There's TO
be a new Run. The Cherokee strip
opening. You know. Let's 60,
Sabra. It's the biggest thing yet.
The 1889 Run was nothing com
pared tc it. Sell the Wigwam, take
the chilcren, make the Run, get our
hundred and sixty. start a ranch.
stock up with cattle and horses.
build rnnch house and patio; in
the saddle all day"
"Never!" screamed Sabra. Her
face was distorted. Her hands were
clutching the air, as though she
would tear to bits this plan of his
for the future. II won't. ! won't
go. I'd rather die first. You'll
never make me 90. I'll stay here
with my children and run the pa
per. Mother! Gin! Donnar
She had rare and violent fit of
Mysteries, after which Yancey di-
vested her of the new finery, quiet
ed the now screaming children, and
finally restored to a Sembance of
supper-time order the household in
to which he had hurled such a
bomb. Felice Venable herself. in
her heyday, could not have given a
finer exhibition of Marcy tempera-
ment. Yancey was properly solic-
itous, tender, charming as only he
could be. From the shelter of her
husbands arms, Sabra looked about
the cozy room. smiled wanly upon
her children. THAT" she thought
to herself, bathing her eyes.
smoothing her hair. and coming
pale and wistful to the table. her
lip quivering with a final effective
sigh, settles that"
But it did not. September actu-
ally saw Yancey making ready to
go. Nothing that Sabra could say.
nothing that she could do. served
to stop him. She even negotiated
for little strip Of farm land out
side the town of Usage and man.
aged to get Yancey to make a pay
ment on it, in the hope that this
would keep him from the Run. "If
it's land you want you can stay
here and farm the piece at Tuska-
mingO. You can raise cattle on it.
You can breed horses on it."
Yancey shook his head. He took
no interest in the farm. Septem-
Der, the month of the opening of
the vast Cherokee strip, saw him
well on his way. Gin howled to be
taken along, and would not be con-
sOled for days. Sabra's farewell
was intended to be cold. Her
heart. she told herself, was break
ing. The change that these last
four years had made in her never
was more apparent than now.
"You felt the same way when
went off to the first Rum" Yancey
reminded her. Remember? You
carried on just one degree less
than your mother. And if | hadn't
gone you'd still be living in the
house in Wichita. with your family
smothering you in Southwest fried
chicken and advice" There was
much truth in this, she had to ad-
nit. She melted; clung to him.
"Yancey! Yancey!"
"Smile. sugar. Wait till you see
Gin and Donna, FIVE years from
now, riding the Cravat acres"
After all, a hundred other men
in Usage were going to make the
Cherokee Strip Run. The town--the
whole territory-had talked of
nothing else for months.
She dried her eyes. She even
managed a -atery smile. He was
making the Run on brilliant, wild
eyed mare named Cimarron, with a
strain of Spanish in her for speed
and grace, and strain of American
mustang for endurance. The start
was made shortly after sunrise sc
as to make progress before the
heat of the day. But cavalcade
awOke them before dawn with q
rat-a-tat-tat of six-shoOters and
a blood-curdling series of cowboy
yips. The escort rode with Yancey
and the others for a distance out
on the plains. Sabra, at the last
minute, had the family horse
hitched to the buggy, bundled Gin
and Donna in with her, and Isaiah
hanging on behind, somehow-the
prim little vehicle bumped and