Hungry Horse news and Columbian. [volume] (Columbia Falls, Mont.) 1946-1948, 1947-02-28
CHAPTER 1

At first glance, had there been any
one close enough to study him, tn
rider looked like Mexican, wander
ing vaquero, remarkable chiefly for his
horse, a magnificent blue roam. Michae
Valdez O'Brien wore leather chaps
to protect his legs from thorny brush
and a silver-brocaded charro vest and
concha- decorated sombrero.
He pushed the roam through a clump
| of juniper to emerge on an outcropping
of rock that overlooked a wide, lush
valley. The sun dripped gold on the
brilliant green of the knee-deep grass
land below him. Michael Valdez y
O'Brien sat on the blue roam, named Ell
Cielo, for his resemblance to the sky
Of the sun-drenched Southwest, and
gazed down upon that scene of peace.
He felt Ell Cielo go restless beneath
him as the fine beast scented the lush
pastures at the foot of the rock shelf,
spoke a Gliding word to the roam for
disturbing his peaceful mood-and then
stiffened in the saddle.
A puff of smoke, far away in the val
ley, revealed peril in Paradise. 1t was
the hot, ugly gray and yellow smoke
caused by the burning of human habi-
tation, smoke which Michael Valdez y
O'Brien had come to know all too well
in his years of wandering through the
Southwest.
Even as be touched Mexican silver
spurs lightly to the horses tanks, he
caught a glimpse of red tongues of fire.
Gauging the distance he had to cover,
he knew that he would be too late.
Long before he reached the site of
the fire the flames had died to faint
curl of smoke which, floating skyward
beyond the trees, was all that was left
to point the way. He put Ell Cielo to
a gallop in an effort to get there before
even this last beacon faded out. M
Rounding a small clump of trees, he
finally saw the scene of destruction
before him. The thin pillar of smoke
wound upward from the charred re-
mains of a log cabin that had sprawled
u4der two tall cottonwood trees beside
a brook. Smaller smoke columns rose
from what must have been, until re-
Gently, barn. :.
He flung himself from the saddle
under the cottonwood trees while; dust
few from the hoofs of the blue roam
as it skidded to stop. His eyes were
hot and his mouth was thin as he sur
veyed the glowing embers. His SOM
brero, blown from his head by the
speed of his ride, hung by a string
around his neck, revealing hair that
shone blue-black in the sunlight as he
ran forward. Had he met the perpe-
traitors of the outrage he saw before
lin just then, they would have received
short shrift. Few men had faced the
heat that now .shone in his eyes and
lived to tell of it, since he had taken
he vengeance trail.
A dead woman was sprawed on the |
round, so close to the burning embers |
# the log cabin that the hair had been |
corched off her head. The charge of |
that had killed her had made |
Ter whole body sickening horror. But |
he had been brave to the end-she had |
ought good but futile fight. For an
Id musket, covered with rust, was still !
lutched in her toil-worn hands.
Valdez eyes, searching swiftly around.
ound the other victim. He was white
aired old Mexican, who lay near the
veil, with its charred planking. And
ven as Valdez looked, he saw one of
be old mans arms move feebly. Michael
valdez rushed to him. Kneeling, he
flied the old mans head, grading it
4 his arms.
Amigo" he said gently, "can you
ear me? Hold tight, old-timer-we'll
ct you fixed up right away"