The Washington times., 1933-12-09

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lark, galloping gallantly beside
her.
It was still deep dusk in the
wooos. Spectral trees stream
ed away on either side like
speeding phantoms in a dream;
a vet wind drove fog into her
face. blurring vision and soak
ing her to her stained brown
skin Now. ahead, a pale wat
cry light fl;ckered through the
forest; the road led INTO a
clearing, where it forked; and
the girl pulled in her parting
horse and looked around, bewil-
dered in the sickly light of Gay
break.
One branch of the rough trail
curved out southwark toward
StUHehenge and Fayetteville;
and she knew it must be crowd
ed with gray -jacketed horsemen
whose wide winged flankers were
sweeping the whole region to
the very base of the mountains
ahead. She must not ride
through Black Gap: she realized
thai Must not turn south at
all A gallows death lay that
way.
Army Moving
rhe left-hand trail was rocky
and bushy and led upwards
along a small Stream-the head
waters of the Cone ago
toward abandoned lumber
camps and scattered Shacks of
mouHtaineerS near Wolf Hill.
Here lay her road to safety
by the grace Of God-if, indeed,
there were any way out of this
Valley Of Death for her.
For another instant she sat
on her hard-breathing hunter,
listening fearfully in the forest
silence; and heard, very far
away to the southwark, a vast
and muffled trampling noise
of trotting hoofS, where, through
the drizzling dawn. 1000 gray
jacketed riders and their cap
tured horses were passing
through Black Gap. She gave
one last desperate glance be-
hind her; heard nothing; then
swung her horse up the rocky
road along the brook, leading
the other two horses knee-deep
through wet laurel and rhodo-
dendron and out between cliffs,
and came at last into a wide
woodroad once more, where
freshly felled trees lay fragrant
in the ferns.
Two shoulders Of rock almost
closed this lumber road, and
she was obliged to dismount
and lead the three horses
through, single file. AS she
stood, q moment, to let them
drink briefly at the brook, she
caught the faint clink Of .
horseshoe on rock, and turning
around, saw Vespasian Chancel-
lor ride up to the forks Of the
road below, rein in, bend low
in his saddle, and peer right
and left for further trace Of
her horses hoof marks.
With the chill Of death itself
in her veins, she tremblingly ur-
buckled the holster flap on yell
low Bob's saddle, pulled from it
his heavy cavalry revolver: re-
capped and reloaded it; tied the
three horses, and, STOPPING,
crept back to where the bills
massive shoulders narrowed the
pass and made of it rocky gate
way thick with ferns and laurel.
Into this green, wet ambush she
crawled.
Waiting in Ambush
She never had killed anybody
or any living creature; never had
seen anvbod.' die except on the
stage. She remembered that
Pauline Cushman had showed
her how to expire gracefully and
effectively in he last act. She
recollected that the leading man
had instructed her once how to
load, cap, cock and fire a re-
volver, and she cautiously cooked
the heavy weapon in her hand
and leveled it through The
laurel.
The chief of Confederate SPIES
had walked his painting horse a
little way along the southern
branch of the wood road. still
leaning low in his saddle and
scanning the soft, moist soil.
Evidently discovering no imprint
of horses hoofs. he Strengthened