Desert Dust By €dwin C. Sabin Author of “How Are You Feeling?” eta i “You?’’ She soberly survey ed me as I ploughed through the dust, at her knees. “I think you’ll catch up. If you don’t ob ject to my company, yourself, occasionally, mavbe I can help W” “I certainly cannot object to your company whenever it is gvaijabjo, maadam,” I assured, t ,irFou do not hold your experi ence in Benton against me?” “I got no more than I deserv ed in the Big Tent,” said I. “I went in as a fool and I caine out as a fool, but considerably wiser.” - •'# “You reproached me for it,” she accused. “You hated me. Do you hate me still, I wonder? I tell you I was not to blame for the loos of your money.” “The money has mattered lit tle, madam,” I informed. “It was only a few dollars, and it turned me to a job more to my liking and good health than fiddl ing my time eaway, back there. I have you to thank for that.” “No, no! You are cruel, sir. You thank me for the good and you saddle me with the ba. I ac cept neither. Both, as happened, were mispiays. Yon should not have lost money, you should not have changed vocation. You should have won a little money and you should have pursued health in Benton.” She sighed. “And we all would have been reasonably content. Now here yoxx and I are—and what are we going to do about it!” “We!” T echoed, annoyingly haphazard. “Why so! You’re being well cared for, I take it; and I’m under engagement for Salt Tmke myself.” The answer did sound rude. I was still a cad. She eyed me with a certain whiteness, a cer tain puzzled intentness, a certain fugitive wistfulness—a mute es timation that made me too con ■cious of her clear appraising gaze and rack my brain for some disarming remark. "You’re not responsible for me, you would say?” "I’m at your service,” I cor rected. The platitude was the best that I could muster to my tongue. "That is something,” she mus ed. "Once you were not that— when I proposed a partnership. "You are afraid of me?” she asked. "Why should I be?” I parried. But I was begining; or continu ing. I had that curious inward quiver, not unpleasant, anticipa troy of possible events. "You are a cautious Yankee. You answer one question with an other.” She laughed lightly. "Yes, why should you be ? I can not run away with you; not when Daniel and your Mr. Jenks are watching us so closely. And you have no desire to be run away with. And Pedro must be con sidered. Altogether you are well protected, even if your conscience (dips. But tell me: Do you blame me for running away from Mon toyo?” "Not in the least,” I heartily assured. “You would have helped me, at the last?” "I think I should have felt fully warranted.” Again I floundered. "Even to stowing me with a bull train?” "Anywhere, madam, for your betterment, to free you from that brute.” " Oil! ” She clapped her hands. "But you didn't have to. I only embarrassed you by appearing on my own account You have tome spirit, though. You came to the Adams circle, last night. You did your duty. I expected you. But you must not do it again.” "Why not?” "There are objections, there.” •"Prom you?” "No.” “Prom Hyrum?” "Not yet.” "Prom that Daniel then. Well, I will come to Captain Adams' eamp as often as I like, if with the Captain’s permission. And I shall come to see you, whether with his permission or not.” "I don't know,” she faltered. "I—you would have helped me once, you say? And once you re fused me. Woul&you help me next time?” "As far as I could,” said I.— another of those damned hedging responses that for the life of me I could not manipulate properly. **Ohl' She cried. "Of course! ,fW queen deoieved youj now j *» V you are wise. You are afraid. But so am t. Horribly afraid. I have misplayed again.” She laughed bitterly. “I am with Daniel—-it is to be Daniel and I in the Lion’s den. You know they call Brigham Young the Lion of the Lord. I doubt if even Rachael is angel enough.” She paused. ‘‘They’re going to make noonig, aren’t they? I mustn’t stay. Good-bye.” I sprang to lift her, but with gay shake of head she slipped off of herself and landed securely. -BI Can stand alone. X have to. Men are always ready to do what J don’t ask them to do, as long as I can serve as a tool or a toy. You will be very, very careful. Good-day, sir.” She flashed just the trace of a smile; gathering her skirt she ran on, undeterred by the teamsters applauding her spryness. ‘‘Swing out!’’ shouted Jenks, from rear. ‘‘We’re noonin’.” The lead wagons had halted be side the trail and all the wagons following began to imitate. OHAPTEER XIV I Take A Lesson Prom this hour’s brief camp, early made, we should have turn ed southward, to leave, the rail road line and cross country for the Overland Stage trail that skirted the southern edge of the worse desert before us. But Cap tain Hyrum was of different mind. With faith in the Lord and bull confidence in himself he had resolved to keep straight on by the teamster road which through league after league ever extended fed supplies to the advance of the builders. Under its adventitious guid ance we should strike the stage road at Bitter Creek, eighty or one hundred miles; thence trun dle southwestward, for the fam ed City of the Saints, near two huhdred miles farther. merer ore alter nooning at a pool of stagnant, scummy water we hooked up and plunged ahead, creating and groaning and dust enveloped, constantly outstripp ed by the hurrying construction trains thundering over the newly laid rails, we ourselves the tor toise in the race. My Lady did not join me again to-day, nor on the morrow. She abandoned me to a sense of dis satisfaction with myself, of fore boding, and of a void in the landscape. Our sorely laden train went swaying and pitching across the gaunt face of a high, broad plateau, bleak, hot, and monoto nous in contour; underfoot the reddish granite pulverized by grinding tire and hoof, over us the pale bluish fiery sky without a cloud, distant in the south the shining tips of a mountain range, and distant below in the west the slowly spreading vista of a great, bared ocean-bed, simmering bizarre with reds, yellows and de ceptive whites, and ringed about by battlements jagged and rock hewn. Into this enchanted realm we were bound; by token of the smoke blotches the railroad line led thither. The teamsters view ed the unfolding expanse phleg matically. They palled it the Red Basin. But to me, fresh for the sight, it beckoned with fantastic issues. Even the name breathed magic. Wizard spells hovered there; the railroad had not broken them—the can and loco motives, entering, did not disturb the brooding vastness. A man might still ride errant into those slumberous spaces and discover for himself; might boldly awaken the realm and rule with a prin cess by his side. But romance seemed to have no other sponsor in this plodding, whip-cracking, complaining cara van. So I lacked, woefully lacked, kindred companionship. Free to say, I did miss My Lady, perched upon the stoic mule while like an Arab chief I convoyed her. The steady miles, I admitted, were going to be as disappointing as tepid water, when not aerated by her counsel and piquant allusions, by her Sprightly readiness and the es sential elements of her blue ayes, her facile lips, and that bright hair which no dust could dim. After all she was distinctly feminine—bravely feminine; and if she wished to flirt aa a relief from the cock-sure Daniel and the calm methods of her Mormon guardians, why, let us beguile the way. I should second with eyes open. That was accepted. Moreover, something about her weighed upon ine. A conscious ness of failing her, a woman, in emergency, stung ray self-respeet. She bad twitted me with being “afraid”; afraid of her, she probably meant. That I could pass warily. But she had said that she, too, was afraid: “horri bly afraid,” and an honest shud der had attended upon the words as if a real danger hedged. She had au intuition. The settled convictions of my Gentile friends coincided. “With Daniel in the Lion's den”—that phrase repeat ed itself persistent. She had uttered it in a fear accentuated by a mirthless laugh. Could such a left-handed woer prove too much for her? Well, if she was afraid of Daniel I was not and she should not think so. I could sec her now and then, on before. She rode upon the wagon seat of her self-appointed executor. And J might see him and his paraded impertinences. Except for lhe blowing of the animals and the mechanical noises of the equipment the train subsided into a dogged patience, while parched by the dust and the j thin dry air and mocked by the speeding construction crews upon the iron rails it lurched westward at two and a half miles an hour, for long hours out-faced by the blinding sun. Near the western edge of the plateau we made an evening cor ral. After supper the sound of revolver shots burst flatly from a mess beyond us, and startled. Everything was possible, here in this lone horizon-land where rough men, chafed by a hard day, were gathered suddenly relaxed and idle. But the shots were ac companied by laughter. “They’re only try in’to spile a can,” Jenks reassured. “By golly, we’ll go over and l’arn ’em a lesson.” He glanced at me. “Time you loosened up that weepon o’ yourn, anyhow. Purty son it’ll stick fast.” I arose with him, glad of any diversion. The circle had not yet formed at Hyrum^s fire. “It strikes me as a useless piece of baggage,” said I. “I bought it in Benton but I haven’t needed it. I can kill a rattle snake easier with my whip.” “Wall,” he drawled, “down in yonder you’re liable to meet with a rattler too smart for your whip, account of his freckles. 'Twon’t do you no harm to spend a few ca’tridges, so you’ll be ready for business.” The men were banging, by turn, at a sardine can set up on the sand about twenty paces out. Their shadows stretched slant wise before them, grotesquely lengthened by the last efforts of the disappearing sun. Soma aimed carefully from under pull ed-down hat brims; others, their brims flared back, fired quickly, the instant the cun came to tho level. The heavy balls sent the loose soil flying in thick jets made golden by the evening glow. But amidst the furrows the can sat untouched by the plunging missiles. We were greeted with hearty banter. * ‘ Hyar’s the champeens! ’' “Now they’ll show us.” “ Ain’t never see that pilgrim unlimber his gun yit, but I reckon he’s a bad ’un.” “ Jenks, old hoss, cain’t you l’arn that durn can mannerst” “I’ll try to oblige you, boys,” friend Jenks smiled. ‘ ‘ What you thinkin’to do; hit that can or plant a lead mine T ” “Give him room. He’s made his brag,” they cried. “And if he don’t plug it that pilgrim sure will.” Mr. Jenks drew and took his stand; banged with small prepa- i ration and missed by six inches— ■ a fact that brought him wide ' awake, so to speak, badgered by derision renewed. A person needs must have a bull hide , to travel with a bull train, I saw. “Gimme another, boys, and I ’ll hit it in the nose, ’ ’ he growled sheepishly; but they shoved him aside. “No, no. Pilgrim’s turn. Fetch on yore shootin’-iron, young feller. Thar’s yore turkey. Show us why you’re packin’ all that hardware.” Willy-nilly I had to demon strate my greenness; so in all good nature I drew, and stood, and cocked, and aimed. The Colt’s exploded with prodigious blast and wrench—jerking, in fact, almost above head; and where the bullet went I did not see, nor, I judged, did anybody else. “He missed the *arth!” they clamored. "No; I reckon he hit Montany ’bout the middle. That’s whar be scored center 1” "Shootl Shootl” they begged. “Go ahead. Mebbe you’ll kill an Injun unbeknowst. They’a n pack o’ Sioux jest out o’ sight behind them hills.” And I did shoot, vexed; and I struck the ground, this time, some fifty yards beyond the can. Jenks stepped from amidst the riotous laughter. “Hold down on it, hold down, lad,” lie urged. “To hit him in the heart aim at his feet. Herel Like this-” and taking my revolver he threw it forward, [ fired, the can plinked and somer saulted, lashed into action too late. “By Gawd,” he proclaimed, “when I move like it had a gun in its fist I can snap it. But when I think on it as a can I lack guts.” The remark was pat. I had seen several of the men snip the head from a rattlesnake with a single off-hand shot—yes, they all carri ed their weapons easily and wontedly. But the target of an immobile can lacked in stimula tion to concord of nerve and eyo. Now I shot again, holding lower and more firmly, out of mere guesswork, and landed ap preciably closer although still within the zone of ridicule. And somebody else shot, and some body else, and another, until wo all were whooping and laughing and jesting, and the jets flew as if from the balls of a mitrail leuse, and the can rocked and pyratea, spurring us to haste at it constantly changed the range. Presenly it was merely a twist of ragged tin. Then in the little silence, as we paused, a voice spoke irritatingly. “I ’laow yu fellers ain't no great shucks at throwin’ lead.” Daniel stood by, with arras akimbo, his booted legs braggart ly straddled and his freckled face primed with an intolerant grin at our recent efforts. My Lady had come over with him. Raw-boned, angular, jloddish but as strong as a mule, he towered over her in a maddening atmosphere of pm prietorship. (To be Continued.) The Forbidden Lure. "Leave all and follow—follow!" Lure of the sun at dawn, Lure of a wind-paced hollow, Lure of the stars withdrawn; Lure of the brave old singing Brave perished minstrels knew* Of dreams like sea-fog clinging To boughs the night alfts through "Leave al) and follow—Lvlow!” The sun goes up the