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 <t?s.y;
Flickering wing of swallow.
Blossoms that blow a-vay,-—
What would you, luring, luring,
When I must bide at home?
My heart will break her mooring
And die in reef-flung foam!
Oh, I *mst never listen,
Call not outside my door.
Green leaves, you must not glisten
Like water, any more.
Oh, Beauty, wandering Beauty,
Pass by; speak not. For see,
By bed and board stands Duty
To snatch my dreams from me!
—Fannie Stearn* Davis, In the Int
dlanapolis News.
LITTLE REAL PHILOSOPHY
Ed Howe.
There la little real philoaophy
these modern days. The big talking
and writing that goes on Is as
exaggerated as are smaller per
formances In the tame line. In
the distant future When a collec
tion Is made of the literature of
today. It will be found so trifling
that not much of It will be pre
served.
We not only Uve extravagantly,
but talk and write In the same ,
way. In making a financial ven
ture, caution and common sense
are Important, and necessary to [
success, but In writing and talk
ing extravagance pays best; so
many publications are willing to
pay high prices for extravagant I
statements that modesty and real )
sense are not much in demand.
Likewise audiences In theater*,
clubs and conventions like extra
vagance better than the truth and
we get only tinsel of no permanent
value. Intellectually this age will,
I fear, make a poor showing in tihe
literature of a thousand years
hence.
A Song In Iverything.
There Is a song In everything.
In every little care that cornea
In babies as they auok their thumb*
The tunes the brave canaries sin*
The mother's patient, gentle amil*
The glory of the after-while.
There Is no sadness but Is sweet
With fragrance, and there Is no day
But spreads some beauty on life's
way,
The dusty and the weary feet
Upon their homeward journey bring
Delights which loving hearts may
sing.
The high chair and the cradle, too.
Have ever set brave Ups to son*
No grief has ever lived so long
But turned to music as It grew.
And every hour of strife and pain
Leaves In the heart some sweet re
frain.
Lord, teach me this, from day to day,
To find beyond the hurt and care
Thy mercy shining everywhere;
Let me rejoice that children play.
And know when bitter tempests sting
There Is a song In everything.
—Prom the Chicago Tribune.
Whatever The Coat.
Prom the Duluth Herald.
France and Belgium are going to
remain, neutral In that separatist row
even tf they have send fa extra
troop)
JOYS OF MOTHERHOOD _
Often Prevented by Female Trouble
Lydia E.Pinkham’sVegetable Compound brings
Joy to Homes by Removing Cause of Trouble
Brooklyn, N.Y.,—“I was working
after I got married and the young
lady who worked next to me asked me
If I had any intentions of having a
child. I told her I would be the happi
est woman on earth if I could become
a mother, but I always had terrible
cramps, backaches and headaches.
She then told me of a woman she
knows who took Lydia E. Pinkham’a
Vegetable Compound for the same
troubles and it helped her greatly.
I took about a half Dottle and found
that the following month I did not
suffer any pain, so I kept on taking
it. I have a wonderful baby boy six
months old and he is as strong and
fat as any one could wish a baby to
be. I still take the Vegetable Com
pound regularly because! have looked
fine all tne time and felt fine and my
mother told me that was the reason.
I will be glad to have you publish my
testimonial with my name and ad
dress.” —Mrs. Edward Wrrbeck,
1824 Greene Avenue, Brooklyn, N.Y,
Free From Old Trouble
Auburn, Maine.—“I suffered with
toward weakness for ten yean and
bad doctored all this long time but
never got any help. One day I saw
my sister and she told me or Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound
and I went and got me a bottle of it
I took two bottles and a half and I
was just as free from my old troubles
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and I was afraid that I could never
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that I never could have a living child
for I was not strong enough to carry
one. But they were mistaken and I
had a nice baby boy and now I hove five
children. I can’t praise your medi
cine enough. Mv youngest sister has
taken it too, ana praises it” — Mrs.
G. L. Wiswell, 48 Mechanics Row,
Auburn, Maine.
These cases are similar to many
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women to carefully consider such
statements and to give Lydia E. Pink
ham’s Vegetable Compound a fair
trial. It may bring great joy to your
home.
Over 100,000 women have so far
replied to our question. “Have you
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Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound?”
98 per cent of these replies are
“Yes.”
That means that 96 out of every
100 women who take this medicine
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ommended are benefited by it.
This goes to prove that a medicine
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ments—not a cure-all—can and does
do good work. For fifty years Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound
has been a medicine for women.
For sale by druggists everywhere.
Woman Explains Why
People Swim in Winter
t - -
Why some persons go ocean swim
ming in winter was revealed by a
woman bather at Brighton beach, New
York, on a recent Sunday afternoon.
There were several "polar bears,"
“Arctic swans” and other of the cold
water clan splashing and plunging
through the surf. Apparently they were
enjoying it or else moving fast to keep
from freezing.
A man and a woman bather de
tached themselves from the swbnmers
and hurried toward the bath-houses.
Their teeth chattered and waves of
“goose flesh” rippled up and down
their bare arms and legs, muchtas the
surf was breaking over the lce-mcrust
ed sands.
‘‘How’s the water?” asked a by
stander.
“Co-oo-ld t” stuttered the woman.
“Did you enjoy the swim?” ,
“No-oo-ooo 1” ^
“Then why did you go In?”
“ ’Cause I’m crazy!’’—New Yotf
Sun and Globe.
—
The Reaeon Why
"Why,” asked the school Inspector,
“should we celebrate Washington’s
birthday more than we do mine?”
“Because he never told a lie, sir,”
shouted one of the pupils.—Boston
Transcript.
If you think you need exercise, try
walking up instead of taking the ele
vator.
*
Children
Cry for
’ ,v t * ':
MOTHER:— Fletcher's Castoria is a pleasant, harmless Substi
tute for Castor Oil, Paregoric, Teething Drops and Soothing
Syrups, prepared for Infants in arms and Children all ages.
To avoid imitations, always look for the signature of
£lPvei? £2 each package. Physicians everywhere recommend it
Two pleasant ways
to relieve a cough
Take your choice and suit
your taste. 8-B—or Menthol
flavor. A sure relief for coughs,
colds snd hoarseness. Put one
in your mouth at bedtime.
Ahraya kaap a bo* on hand.
SMITH BROTHERS
&* c0fe!iPR0PS mm
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ENTER the International Crow-Shooting
Contest. Do Pont offers 13,900 in merchan
dise prises. No entrance foes. Destroy tbs
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