The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1940-10-18
By FRANK n. sPEARMAN

| lta. Beside nlnSeu, ne SedTCueu
every rift in the cave for Yosco.
His frantic efforts were bootless.
His bloody knife in hand, he faced
the beaten subchief of the savages,
threatening instant death for all UNI
less Yosco were produced. "Only
his squaws can tell you where Yos-
co ID" muttered the stolid Indian.
"Yosco is not here" said the
| swarthy, wrinkled woman. "He
started yesterday for the high noun
tains."
where is Amelita?" demanded
Sanchez, beside himself.
HE took two mission girls along.
Amelia was one"
Late that night a weary and stray
Cling procession reused Santa Clara
Mission with resounding shouts.
Despite the hour they were given
q joyous welcome. Padre Martinez,
for himself and his associates, or
dered the slender reserves Of his
fatlings brought from the cold room,
and at midnight the fires were still
blazing and the kettles bubbling to
fill half-starved company with the
best provender the mission afforded.
To the surprise of the savages,
who expected to be executed at
once, they, too, were served with
an abundance and went to their
quarters, filed both with stew and
with amazement.
The Californians, after mutual
congratulations, scattered for their
ranches. 1t was almost daybreak
when Don Ramon, with Dona Ma
ria, Carmen, Bowie and his men
reached Guadalupe. Lights were
still burning everywhere in the
ranch house.
Some moments passed before
(, Bowie came into the living room.
After taking measures with the
scouts and vaqueros for the guard
ing of the corral, Don Ramon and
his wife were just retiring to their
rooms.
"You must ask Senior Bowie more
about the fight ITSELF" Don Ramon
was saying to his wife. He had evil
IDENTIFY been recounting the story of
the day. Because" he added with
a cold glance at the Texan, she
kept me out Of it-for which ! do
not thank him."
The early morning was gray with
fog, but even the gray of Cali
fornia morning is an inspiration to
the young. When the mist floats
lazily in from the sea, when the
valley lies green in the soft light
of dawn, when the cattle and the
horses in thousands shake off the
torpor of the night and turn peace
fully to the lush grass of the hill
slopes, when the curtained bay lies
asleep in the distance, not even the
sun is needed to inspire youth with
strength and hope.
But the Texan had an added in
spiration that early morning when
he rode up the field to the house,
in the spectacle of Carmen in the
saddle. The two wheeled together
and loped down the valley on the
major-domo's daily round of inspec-
ton.
Carmen, animated by the brisk
ride, slowed down after few miles.
"Senor," she said, turning to
Bowie, 81 wanted to thank you for
your protection of my dear father.
1t meant so much to me. am
sorry he did not understand.
81 hope his resentment will pass"
said Bowie.
81 know it will. He has the high
est opinion of you, and rightly, since
you saved his life.''
He looked at her to disclaim. But
the vision of her face, the depth
and sp1endor of her eyes bent full
and with perfect poise on his own,
confused him. Just the faintest
flush crept to her cheeks.
He looked down and could utter
only word or two. SIT was moth
ing, really nothing Shall we 60 a
! bit faster?" M 1879
Her spirit attracted him; it was
so trimming with fire. And all the
time she was sinking deeper into
his life.
He knew she could ride, but now
she surpassed even his idea of her
daring!
The race was cut short by the
appearance Of a horseman gallop--
ing smartly around the hill ahead
of them. He was swinging his hat
in his hand as he rode. Heavily
bearded, tall in the saddle and rid
ing free as he came on, Bowie
placed him as an American, and
| as he drew closer the verdict was
strengthened.
Hello, greaser," shouted the
stranger in Yankee fashion.
"Who are you and what do you
.want?" asked Bowie in curt Eng
lish. 1885, $500
Looking for some stray horses,
greaser. What are you doing here
with pretty girl?-I'd like to get
acquainted with that shy one my
| self ~