White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1932-06-30

"1'll be fine an dandy" he assured.
Outside the girl spoke indifferently
to the night, "Mr. VERIFY wants to see
you before you CO."
Since Doctor Sanders had just been
explaining that he intended to stay all
night with his patient, Mccain was
justified in assuming that this imper-
sonal remark was addressed to him.
He went into the house.
"How they stackin', old-tlmer?" he
asked
''Ill make a hand yet. What's wor-
ryin me Is I've got to lie here like
bump on log an let kid like you
see Miss Julia home. She's outa luck.
Well, give my love to Pa Stark when
you get to the Circle Cross"
"Was that what you wanted to tell
me?"
Little imps Of deviltry danced in
the beady eyes. "No, wills. A wink
is as good as nod to a blind boss.
Scratch gravel, boy. You know the OF
saying: Opportunity is like bald
headed guy with chin whiskers; you
can catch him comm but not going"
McCann's answer was direct. "Tm
not liable to forget that she's Matt
Stark's daughter, so you needn't look
so blamed KNOWN Jim. l don't like
her any more'n she does me-"
"Sho She's mighty nice lii girl,
an the best lookin' one in Arizona"
"No Stark looks good to me-" the
son Of Peter Mccain said grimly.
They were taking the short cut
across the desert before either Of them
spoke.
"What did you say your name isl"
she asked, rather imperously.
"They call me Wilson,"
The girl noticed the slight pause be-
fore he had drawled the answer. 1t
probably was not his right name, she
reflected. A good many men did not
use the one to which they were born
In that country it was not good form
to insist on particulars as to who a
man had been or from where he had
come.
"You ride for the McCanns."
He assented, without words.
Silence fell again between them. They
had come out Of the silt and were
threading a way among the steel
thorned yuccas. The moon and the
stars were out, touching the land as
| by a magic wand All harsh detail
was blurred. Ten thousand years Of
drought were wiped out. A soft desert
breeze was signing gently across a
| sleeping world.
His words, when at last they came,
were surprise. "Why isn't it always
like this?" he asked, speaking almost
| to himself rather than to her.
"How do you mean, like this?"
But she knew. she hoped she knew,
what he meant before he answered.
For the desert had entered into her
life, too. She sensed it's moods and
reflected them in her own. Sometimes
It was a hot devouring monster blast
ing all living things with its fiery
breath; again at sunset, when light
| was flooding over the sheen of the
mesquite, 1t might be a silver dragon
| less destructive. In the moonlight 1t
was kind of lovely, all ugliness and
| threat obliterated.
crouching animal slipped quickly
across the trail into the chaparral.
"Coyote?" she asked.
"Wildcat," he answered. Then, with
unexpected bitterness. That's the
| desert for you"
Again she understood what he
meant, and again asked, what do you
| mean?"
Survival Of the fit"
"Isn't that true everywhere"
Maybe so, but the conditions are
| different. Everything that lives here
| is born and bred in hardship, trained
for attack an defense. No escape
from it. All the plants have thick an
sting. They have to push their roots
way into the ground to get water II
they don't tougher they die. Tha's
what's ailin' us humans. We're desert
bred"
aren't people the same every
where?" she asked.
mo. Here we have to fight or 60
under. We fight the drought and heat
Of nature. We fight each other for the
water holes. If we don't we lose out.
Consequence is we get fierce and saw
age like that wildcat"
"Yes," she admitted with sigh.
"We're all under the spell Of 1t, all
hard and relentless, kinda. But we
don't have to be-what is 1t you called
that wildcat?-ferociou and sly. The
desert shows it's teeth most Of the
time. It's full of sting and barb and
thorn. But that's only one side Of it.
All the time it's trying to tell us some
thing else, too, isn't it?"
His brooding eyes rested on her. So
I she, too, felt 1t, this wild young thing
so full of contrary impulses, of pas
sionate resentments, of brave elusive
dreams, Of mysterious cravings for
goodness and beauty. He forgot that
| she was of the enemy. Something