Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1936-03-20

"Yep, if he got through he'll have
reached the telegraph station at Es-
meralda and told 'em to hurry up
them yellow legs"
*Cavalry, so-called because of the
yellow stripe on the cavalryman's
| trousers.
cts gettin' dark fast, so now you
swarm up yonder with the riflemen,"
Ken presently directed, "and, Yank,
see they don't none of 'em shoot too
soon nor throw their shots away"
From his post on the bush grown
river bank below the bridge, Ken
watched his lieutenant's wiry figure
go scrambling upwards, fringes "a
sway, and with heavy cavalry car
bine slung across his shoulders.
When Yank was lost to sight Ken
retired into dense clump of alders
which grew to the edge of the cold
placid water about half way between
the base of the bridge and the ford.
There he infinitely inspected three red
painted barrels of evil-smelling coal
oil, made sure that no part of the ma
tural stone breastwork and the pit
which was to protect him could be seen
from the front; then, lighting a pair
of dark lanterns, he laid carbine and
two revolvers in reach and settled
down to wait while the shadows chang
ed from blue to purple and to black.
During his career on the temptu-
Gus frontiers of America Ken had
suffered many an anxious moment,
but never had such number of fierce
doubts assailed him. What if Lucia
was in real danger? The Golden
Horn mine mentioned in her note lay
less than three-quarters of a mile
away and the temptation to fling him.
self on Nugget, now blindfolded and
tethered in deep arroyo nearby, was
we'll nigh irresistible.
Yet his first duty was to the terri
fled hundreds in Novedad so he for
ced himself to crouch there among
the rustling alders, rifle on knees and
listening and watching with all the in
tentness of a cougar on the prowl.
What if the red devils outside of
Novedad became impatient and attack
ed without waiting for the destruction
Of the bridge? The blood of the lab
orers and their families would be on
his head. Had he not stripped the
camp of its pitiful supply of guard
ians? 1t was horrible to think of
the whooping, blood hungry Mescalero
running amok among those crowded
tents, shooting, stabbing, scalping the
| helpless wretches in them.
While he sat in his gloomy medita-
ton the last faint ray of color depart
ed from the mountain tops above the
forge and somewhere an owl COM
menced to boot drearily, insistently.
Hoo -hoo-hoo!" The cry
sent chills up Ken's spine.
Suddenly another owl answered the
first. Then the eery and long drawn
howl of a timber wolf broke the even
ing stiffness.
1t was getting chilly, Ken realized,
when he suddenly noticed his breath
rising before his ever restless eyes.
Another wolf howled and when from
the darkness above the lake coyote
yipped, Ken sat little straighter.
Those last were Mescaleros calling to
each other-he'd heard them lots of
times before.
right" he breathed as his hard brown
finger stightened on the cold barrel
Of his Spencer carbine.
In the darkness across the river and
just below the railroad embankment,
he heard a whippoorwill that was not
| cutie convincing. After that silence,
racking and unnerving, fell again and
though he strained his eyes the mead
ow above the ford seemed as empty
as ever. The next warning he had
was the noise of ballast, dislodged on
the right-of-way, tumbling down to
his level. He drew a deep breath,
made sure Of his revolvers were ham
dy, and braied himself for the most
vital hour of his life.
Apparently, the Mescaleros were
disdainful of any defense that could
be offered by railroad builders and
were assuming that there was no
guard at the bridge, for dismounted
savages were walking boldly along