Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1936-03-20
(, nHVVHEN THE WEST WAS WILD"
u.s. -6y van WICK MASON -


swapping with excitement, came lop-
ing out of Novedad with news that
drew deep burrows of anxiety across
Ken's brow. The A. X. e.. Ms poly
got laborers, it seemed, were now in
state of dangerous mutiny and pam
ic; the food was nearly gone and when
a party of laborers, more hardy than
wise, had attempted to strike overland
for the Rio Verde camp, they had
come running back with news of a
narrow escape from ambush-in fact
two of them had not escaped and their
agonized death shrieks yet fingered in
the ears of the Mortified survivors. AS
eliminating disaster Yank stated
that Mescalero Ted had disappeared
from Novedad and that with him,
laughing and gay, had gone Lucia
NOVEL;.
"Yep," Yank grunted, 81 allow
they're gone for keeps, though Ted
said they was only goin' for little
pasear to get the lay O. the land"
whats FELTON, dom about it,"
"Ah, clean forgot. Old man Eel
ton got hurt bad last night" Yank
said as he passed a packet of carbine
ammunition to his chief. "He got shot
by mistake-of course-when he come
ridin' in from SEEM yuh last night,
And here's somethin' for yuh."
From the dirt-glazed bosom of his
shirt, the leathery featured rider ex-
tracted an envelope that was badly
crumpled and marked with swat. 1t
bore a scrawled superscripture-"For
X. Chester"
"Who's it from?" demanded Ken
suspiciously, for the writing was in no
way familiar.
Dunno" grunted Yank, as, with a
series of brief jerks, he uncinched his
lathered pony. "Old Cassidy slipped
it to me jest as was hightailin' outta
Novedad."
Moodily, Ken strobe to one side,
ripped open the envelope flap, pulled
out a slip of brown wrapping paper,
and, by the fading sunset, commenced
to painfully spell out the following
message.
"Ken, help me for Gods sake! Ted
is taking me away-I'm afraid of him,
| think he intends to camp at the ruins
Of the Golden Horn mine. Come to
me and trust me. Lucia"
Fiercely suspicious, Ken stared at
the scrawled message. Was it gen.
uine? Had she written it voluntarily
to lure him into a fresh trap? Or
had she written it with Mescalero
Ted's threats in her ears? On the 9TH
er hand it was distractingly possible
that the girl, desperately in earnest,
contrived to scrawl this hasty message
unobserved.
This was the last straw needed COM
p!etely to rack the unhappy frontiers
man. Supposing the note were gen.
uine? Before his minds eye flashed
a succession of horribly real pictures:
Lucia fighting in futile despair a.
gainst Mescalero Ted, brutally trium-
plant; Lucia broken and weeping;
Lucia lying in Ted's arms, her red
lips curved in laughter at the prospect
of having again lured the frontiers
man to destruction.
Red brows merged, Ken glanced
towards the gorge of the San Lorenzo,
where the regular pattern of the tres
ties raw yellow wood was sharply out
lined against the rugged rocks beyond.
Then his eyes dropped to where the
San Lorenzo, suddenly tranquil after
its wild descent from the mountains,
formed a small CLASSY lake below the
ford.
Still racked with conflicting emo
tions he glanced upwards and nodded
in satisfaction. OF the siXty-odd rifle
men posted among the rocks of the
gorge and just above the right-of-
way, not a man was visible, which
was as it should be. Had he not la
bored long hours to hide his handful
of anxious sharpshooters so we'll that
not even the keen sight of the Apache
marauders could spy them out?
Yank, gloomily studying the prepar-
ations followed the line of the railroad
right-ofway as it skirted the noun
tainside.
Its sure rocky up yonder," he
grunted. "Yuh can bet yer guns none
of 'em Injuns kin cross the river
above the bridge, but how yuh kin
stop them hostiles from gettin' crost
, the ford stumps me-"
GLOW about the 'Apaches?" Ken
demanded, ignoring the implied ques-