THE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: SEPTEMBER 24, 1916.
"The Grip of Ev
Author of "Tli Wings cf tha Mornlnf," "Tha Pillar of Light,"
"Tha Tarms of Surraadar," "Number 17. Eta.
By LOUIS TRACY N-"'"4 ,h S52BT :fTT VT
Copyright, 1916, by Louis Tracy. ' .'
Eleventh Episodes-Mammon and
Moloch
CAST OP CHARACTERS.
CAPTAIN RICHARD F. MARK
HAM Commander Troop B.
' Twenty-first United Statet cavalry.
SKITHSON Troop sergeant-major,
Toop B.
JONES Corporal Troop B.
SEBASTIAN PANCHO Leader of
Mexican bandits.
JOHN BURTON Tenth Lord Cai
tleton, once a poor ateelworker,
who U controlling owner of a
manufacturing plant.
ROGERS Hia partner and manager.
MRS. MADGE KERR An alleged
, victim of Panchb'a and later news-
" paper correspondent.
JUANITA A half-caste Mexican
, girl, in love with Pancho.
'"txS'C' Chapter XXI.'
, y Intervention In the Open.
Carjtain Rirhard F: Markham. mm.
man ding Troop - B, Twenty-first
through the flaD of a field-service
tent, straightened his well set-up
frame, and searched with careful eyes
the far-flung vista presented by an
open valley of the Rio Grande. The
blue hills of Mexico were already
steeped in shadow, but the setting sun
was still high enough in the heavens
fo flood with light the waters of the
river and the gentle slope on the
American side of the frontier to which
clung that quaint mixture of pictures
que adobe huts and ugly modern
buildings, known as the town of San
Jose. r
To say that San Jose was "known"
on that day. of March, 1916, is, per
haps, not strictly in accordance with
actual fact. It might be found on
the most recent maps of Texas; its
existence was undoubtedly recognized
by a section of the inhabitants of the
border state, and it was beyond all
question the cause' of some anxiety
to the -commander-in-chief .-of the
United States 'troops, scattered
throughout the vexed . region. But
the notoriety of San Jose began and
ended there.. No one in the .wide
world least of all , the i handsome
young cavalry officer now turning his
back on its crudities, and scanning the
undulating country, which fell away
toward the river might have sus-
abbut to be thrust uoon it.
The camp lay athwart a rough road
which led from the town to the river,
and reaching Mexican territory by u
trestle bridge. Certain signs of ac
tivity ' were toward. Some of the
troopers were grooming their horses
and distributing forage tor the night's
feed, others, were cleaning their arms,
others were drawing rations. Field
kitchens smoked and pipes were
alights Soon the horses would be
fiicketed and the men gathered in
ively groups, eating their evening
meal. A trumpeter was blowing the
first call to mess. ' Indeed, the cheer
ful notes' had brought Dick Markham
from his tent, time having stolen a
march on him while preoccupied with
regimental accounts.
A gaunt-looking trodp sergeant-major;
whose appearance suggested that
steel springs and leather had replaced
bones and' flesh in his anatomy, noted
the pfficer'sYsttitiide. He strode near.
."No news of the patrol yet, sir?"
he inquired, halting'at the salute.'
"None, Smithson," said Markham.
''They ought to be showing np soon.
Have a cigarette." ' '
A "certain silent constraint endured
for, a , minute while the two blew
wreaths of smoke into the thin air.
The same thought dwelt in both
minds, and neither cared to give ut
terance to it. That placid, brooding
landscape was deceptive. At any in
stant red-fanged war might spring
i . i-i i
be prepared for it daily, hourly pre
pared in the pitifully inadequate way
possible to one depleted troop of a
regiment charged with guarding 100
miles of. the frontier. , i i
"All the others are in," said the
officer at last.
He was not asking a question, but
merely stating a casual item of the
day's doing. Captain Markham need
ed no information as to anything that
happened within (he bounds i of his
small command.
"Yes, sir," said Smithson, sweeping
a wide amphitheater of hills, river and
valley in one comprehensive glance.
"I have changed the guard at the
bridge, and your orders as to the
sentries are being carried out. Each
post on the flanks is advanced quar
ter of a mile, and pickets are station
ed at the most convenient points."
Clearly this weatherbeaten soldier
was talking for the sake of saying
something which ' would conceal a
gnawing doubt. .
"I wonder what has become of that
Mexican push," murmured Markham,
looking again at the jumbled mass
of the, hills. "The general's, informa
tion ,- sounded quite definite. This
new' rebel, Sebastian Pancho, Is
known to have come north from Chi
huahua." ,
"I have no use for those Mexican
ijduuua. air, laitut cm as 9ut.11,
growled the sergeant-major, "but I
must admit that they are first-rate
movers. They are here today, and
50 miles away tomorrow. If they
could fight as well as they can change
location, they'd be a mightly tough
proposition." ,
And then as the sergeant-major
thought of the bureaucrats in Wash
ington and the crying needs of the
army that were neglected, he con
tinued: "Wish I had a bunch of them
Washington fellers in the recruit
squad I I'd like to see a secriterry on
guard on a dark night, when every
rock looks like a crawling Mexican,
and each rustle in the sage makes
hint believe that a, long, sharp knife
is about to be buried in his gizzard!"
-The officer smiled. .
"Ah, well," he said, '"if it came to
a real showdown, neither you nor I
would change orr job for the tallest
stool in the war department v . Here
comes the patrol "now," and, try as
he might,' Dick Markham could not
conceal the new note of relief in his
voice. ,
The two men chatted about regi
mental matters until a corporal and
three troopers walked , their tired
horses up the slope from the bridge
h- email nartv ritsmntint-di-f at a
ttle distance, and the corporal came
on. aione. - nc saiutea, aim stood at
mention. .'-
"We made the full round sir," he
said, "and we were delayed an hour or
more by investigating the story of a
peon who said that a strong body of
rebels came north yesterday after
noon. They broke camp, however,
about four o'clock and disappeared
through the Carroya canyon."
"The Carroya," repeated Markham
in a puzzled tone, and fil eyes and
the sergeant-major's forthwith sought
the same gap in the serrated moun
tain ridge. 'That leads due . sou'
west?" . "Yes, ' sir," said the corporal.
"There's no doubt about it, he
added. ''We followed their track a
little ways."'
At that he grinned, and the ghost
ofa smile flitted over the face of each
of his hearers. There are times on
the frontier when neither officer nor
trooper is too communicative. As
viewed . from . the standpoints of
Washington and Mexico City, the
Rio Grande offers an impassable bar
rier, but upon men charged with safe
guarding the lives and property of
American citizens who may be ex
posed any day to outrage and mur
der at the hands of robber halfcasts
holds more elastic opinions as to
scouting areas.
"You are quite sure, Jones?" in
quired Markham gravely, after a
slight pause.
"Quite sure, sir."
"Then that's all right . . . Sergeant-major,
see that this patrol is
relieved from duty for the next twenty-four
hours, if practicable."
The second mess call rang out, and
the camp assumed an even busier as
pect. Markham's practiced eye took
in every detail. Things were going
smoothly, so he turned and looked up
the main street of San Jose.
In front of the hotel, a pretentious
building horribly at variance with the
Mexican aspect of the majority of
the town's buildings, had gathered
some of the leading citizens. In half
an hour he was due. to dine with tht
bank manager and a couple of ranch
ers. His friends awaited him already.
He knew quite well that they had
noted the return of the patrol, and
would read the signs of an undis
turbed evening in prospect With a
sigh, for he hated the dull routine of
office work, he dived tinder the flap
of the tent and plunged into figures
once more.
Suddenly, as though Medusa's teeth
had been sown in that arid soil, the
earth seemed to vomit forth a horde
of galloping, yelling, death-dealing
Mexican outlaws I They came, not
from the river, an impossible direc
tion in the circumstances, but from
a deep gully on the Texas side of the
stream, through which a trail led to
strip of barren country on the
northwest.. Shouting like madmen,
and in an uncontrollable frenzy, in
Spired partly by rye whisky and part
ly by hatred of the "gringos,'' the
murderous band swept down on town
and tamp. "
Each' alike was doomed. San Jose
numbered only 300 inhabitants, all
told,, and of these .bajejy two score
men ; were armed" or physically xa
pable of self-defense, while the sol
diers, as has been seen, were taken
at a-disadvantage, and might easily
be cut to pieces before they could of
fer organized resistance. ' "
There could be no shadow of doubt
that if the assailants had obeyed the
first ' law of military operations and
rushed the opposing force before giv
ing vent to their predatory instincts,
the story of the raid on San Jose
might have been told only by the
troopers, on duty at the bridge, al
ways provided, an unlikely thing in
Itself, that they mounted forthwith
and rode off at top speed. But, by
one of those miracles which often
come to the aid of civilization in its
age-long struggle against barbarism,
the Mexican bandits were attracted
irresistibly by the sight of the de
fenseless town, with its rich loot of
a bank, hotel, some stores and pri
vate residences. . ,
They were thieves, one and all.
This attack on an American com
munity wore the thin disguise of pa
triotic motive, but its true purpose
was revealed by the action of every
marauders, both leaders and rank and
file, in not losing a second before
beginning the congenial t-.sk of plun
der. True, their recognized chief,
none other than Sebastian Pancho in
person, contrived to urge on some of
his followers in a swift, dash on the
camp. No doubt, out of the tail of
his eye he marked for condign pun
ishment those rebels who thought
more of loot than of immediate vic
tory. Even so, Pancho's innate sav
agery showed itself as he rode past
a small store from which an elderly
man was . escorting a screaming
woman carrying a baby in her arms.
Raising- a revolver, the Mexican
fired point blank, and the old man
fell, writhing in agony. The woman
stumbled over his body, shrieking in
mortal terror, yet striving to shield
the child; the accident undoubtedly
saved her life, because one of the
band, galloping close behind Pancho,
fired at her with a rifle and missed I
Markham, astounded by the tor
nado of yells and musketry, grabbed
a revolver and rushed bareheaded in
to the open, He took in the situation
at a glance, and his soldier's heart
quailed momentarily in the natural
belief that the watch and ward his
troops maintained over the district
had failed most lamentably. But he
was made of stern stuff. No matter
what the prime cause of the disaster,
his duty now was to try fo rectify it
He noted at a glance that the en
emy had given him a few most pre
cious seconds of respite. Not more
than 100 men were racing down on
the camp, whereas live times that
number were available, and could
have swept the small body of Ameri
cans into eternity before they could
even reach their piled arms and am
munition beltsr Already the startled
troopers were assuming some sem
blance of order, and Markham's voice
reached them in high, clear notes.
"Number 4 section will prevent the
horses from being stampeded) The
remainder will form on their section
leaders! Aim lowl stop this first
rush!"
He was obeyed to the letter, for
these hardy American boys were al
ready veterans in frontier warfare,
and, knew instinctively how to act
for the best, even in the trying con
ditions of .a surprise attack.
While Markham- waa running to
reach the center of the line, he no
ticed that, the rebels were already
setting, fire' to, the hotel. The main
street had cleared as though by
magic, except for a number of bodies,
both Americans and Mexicans, some
lying ominously still, while others
were dragging painfully to the shel
ter of a building or an inclosed yard.
From doorways and windows came
scattered shots. The men of San
Jose were at least striking a blow
in defense, of their homes and fami
lies. -"
It was a singular moment to think
of poetry, yet four lines of one of
Kipling's jingling ballads hammered
on Markham i brain with- a curious
insistency: :
A foray In a bordsr station,
A gallop down a dark d.nls: v
Two thousand pounds of eduoatVcro '
Drop to. a ten-rupe. Jotall, .
But it was no antiquated rifle these
Mexican cut-throats carried. Mark
ham recognized at once that they
were armed with a thoroughly up-to-date
weapon, equal if not superior
to the cavalry carbine, and he found
himself wondering vaguely how it was
possible that a gang of nondescripts
could have obtained such a se'rvicable
equipment.
And now the United States troop
ers took a deadly toll of (he oncoming
enemy. Pancho quickly found him
self advancing alone. An incompar
able horseman, he swung a hardy
mustang almost at a rightangle as he
changed his course. He must have
borne a charmed life, since bullets
passed through his hat and jacket.
and lodged repeatedlv m the heavv
Mexican saddle, without inflicting any
serious wound on either man or ani
mal.
Thenceforth, of course, discipline
established its superiority. The cav
alrymen advanced in open order, and
a machine gun detachment brought a
withering fire to bear along the main
street.
The savage pandemonium passed
away almost as speedily as it com
menced. Soon San Jose was quiet,
save for the weeping of women and
children and the groans of the
wounded, while the rebel band fled
over the hills, closely pursued by the
infuriated troopers. By Markham's
side rode the stern-visaged sergeant
major.. They drew rein for a mo
ment when they came upon a crump
led .body lying in the scrub. It was
the sentry who should have given
warning of the enemy's approach.
He had been stabbed between the
shoulder blades. Creeping snakelike
through the sage, some Mexican out
law had flung himself on the unsus-
Secting soldier and murdered him ere
e could utter a cry or fire a single
shotl '
A desultory fight went on till dusk
fell. Scattered units of flying rebels
and infuriated Americans crossed the
Rio Grande by a ford and passed far
into Mexican territory on the right
bank of the river. At last when
darkness set in, Markham recalled his
men by long-drawn trumpet blasts. A
hasty roll call revealed that there
were no stragglers. The ranks of the
little company had been sadly de
pleted, but .every missing man could
be accounted far only too accurately;
On the way, back to the town the
young officer ascertained the facts of
the raid from a prisoner. He was im
mensely relieved to find that the re
port brought by the patrol was cor
rect in every detail. Pancho had dou
bled back from the frontier, only to'
turn again under cover of the night,
and cross the river at a point well
above the line for which B troop was
responsible. Then, well served by
spies and traitors among the half
breeds claiming American citizenship,
he secreted his fil:e in a. canyon un
til the hour seemed ripe for the as
sault on San Jose.
The plan was boldly laid. It mis
carried only at the last moment, and
then merely because of Mexican cu
pidity and the sheer lust of murder
ing unarmed people. Save for its dead
and its dying, the little town recov
ered its sang-froid with singular
rapidity. It was not San Jose but
the remainder of the United States
which seethed with indignation next
day.
Markham, fully exonerated from
the slightest shadow of blame when
his commanding officer had investi
gated the affair, not only confessed
that he and his men had enjoyed the
time of their lives, but was openly en
vied by every officer in the regiment.
Another man, young as Markham, en
thusiastic as he in love of country,
ready as he to spend and be spent in
that country's cause, glowed with
righteous wrath when he read the
news flashed in a . faraway eastern
city.
John " Burton, tenth marquis of
Castleton, had never been so angry
in his life. All that had gone before,
the insults and rebuffs he encountered
in a vain struggle against the evil
which seemed to be inherent in hu
manity, were innocuous as dust in a
summer gale compared with the lash
of this national indignity. American
men, women and children had been
slain, an American town given over
to ruthless brigandage, merely be
cause a few statesmen in Washing
ton allowed common sense to be
overruled by Utopian dreams. John
Burton read, and his stern face
whitened with rage and determina
tion. He picked up a telephone.
"That you, Rogers?" he said, ad
dressing the manager of a manufac
turing plant in which he had a con
trolling interest
- "Yes, Mr. Burton," came the an
swer, for John had forbidden the use
of his title.
"Do you know of this scandalous
affair in Texas?"
"Why, yes," and the voice almost
chuckled. "Haven't I been trying for
weeks to persuade you that some
thing must be done? During my trip
to Chihuahua three months ago, I
saw on every hand signs of the fate
in store for us if the, nation wasn't
aroused." -
' You were right," said John grimly.
"Count on me for the utmost support
in future. Arrange a 'preparedness'
meeting for tomorrow night. Spare
no expense. Someone must raise the
fiery torch) Let it be lighted here
and nowl!'
CHAPTER XXII. , ' . '
' Intervention From tht Inside.
Burton, a worker in metals during
some of the happiest years of his life,
had gone back to his old love. A
local manufacturing plant, dealing
with automobiles and bicycles, had
been driven into bankruptcy by bad
management and lack of capital. A
I v&3i
....-. . x s
k W
II i
V ' v v I j j
JOHN ACCUSES IlrtDG? OF
young and energetic man, that same
Rogers who spoke over the telephone,
had persuaded Burton to buy the con
cern in conjunction with several other
notables of the iron and steel trades.
The reconstruction had come too late,
however, to share in the first boom
resulting from the European war.
Very unwillingly, John had been
coerced by his colleagues on the board
of directors into equipping the works
for the production of munitions. He
was overborne by the argument that
the allies were in desperate need of
these aids to civilization, which would
be imperiled if American manufactur
ers did not get busy.
By reason of his money, Burton was
lppointed president, but he little
Ireamed how thoroughly Rogers, the
nanager, had manipulated matters.
European orders for arms and ammu
tition had already been gbbbled up
y hundreds of old-established works
in all parts of the country. A new
comer found it difficult to obtain any
share of the trade. Purchasing agents
demanded tne warranty oi experience
and unquestioned excellence in the
finished article, so Rogers had to run
the. works at their maximum output,
yet bide hia time ere picking up any
part of the golden shower coming
from Europe. Obviously, if America
itself caught the craze for armament,
the trick would be done, and the Bur
ton & Rogers Iron and Steel company
put on the solid base of prosperity.
Rogers looked only to the end. He
was absolutely unscrupulous as to the
means of obtaining it.
Rogers was a man of mystery. He
called himself a cosmopolitan, and said
that he was a citizen of the world.
When asked what nationality he was,
he always evaded the question. While
he lived and carried on his business
in the United States he never voted.
John passed a full day prior to the
meeting in the convention hall. Some
how, his name figured prominently in
the new movement, and telegrams
poured in on him from all parts of
the country. A few sane people ap
pealed for restraint and the exercise
of reason, but the vast majority de
manded the prompt raising of an army
of 100,000 men and the piling up of
sufficient stores to insure victory in
the threatened war.
In spite of himself, John was car
ried bodily on the tide. He hated
war, but ever before his eyes lay the
picture of desolated San Jose and its
napless victims. These things were
not war but murder, and the arming
of American citizens savored more of
police protection than militarism.
Before the meeting began he was
met by Rogers, who introduced an
unknown lady as one deeply inter
ested in the capture and punishment
of Sebastian Pancho, In the hurry of
the moment John gathered only that
she was a Mrs. Madge Kerr, whose
husband had been killed during a
small frontier afray which took place
long before San Jose loomed into
such prominence. .
She was a very good-looking wom
an, young, attractively dressed, and
notably elegant in her movements.
Had Burton given a thought to the
matter, he would have decided that
such an exotic must have been re
markably out of place on a ranch. In
literal fact, she was a clever but
hitherto disappointed actress, whom
Rogers had chosen to play a leading
part in a drama of real life.
The astute manager guessed that
the simple-minded president of the
company would . surely invite Mrs.
Kerr to share his box at the meeting,
and that very thing John did at once,
none of his disastrous experiences
having uprooted his fixed belief in the
finer qualities of womanhood.
Rogers proved a most effective or
ator. Retaining a well-conceived ad;
dress until the psychological mo
ment, he swept a crowded meeting off
its feet by an impassioned plea that
every man and woman in America
should unite in upholding the flag.
His words raised the audience to a
delirium of enthusiasm. When he sat
down, cheer after cheer rang through
the great building.
At last silence was restored. The
chairman was about to rail on an
other speaker, who would second the
'preparedness" resolution proposed
by Rogers, when Madge Kerr at
tracted every eye by rising and lean
ing well over the front of the box
which she shared with Burton and
some of his co-directors. Her beauti
ful face was pale with emotion, her
HER MANY FALSIFICATIONS.
fine eyes were ablaze with tragic fire.
"I, a weak -woman, have a message
for vou men men of America I" she
cried, her well-trained voice reaching
every ear and its pathos touching
every heart. "It is brief, but very
much to the purpose. Get Pancho!
Get Pancho! Get Pancho)''
Thrusting a hand into her bodice,
she produced a small American flag
and held it aloft!
That supreme moment gave Madge
Kerr the chance of her life, and she
seized it with magnificent abandon,
Her success was instantaneous.
Never again would she be compelled
to fawn on theatrical agents pr pes
ter managers already bewildered by
the ever-increasing mob of applicants
for stage honors. Now they would
hunt her in droves. She had become
a notability. That cry, "Get Panchol"
was destined to become the slogan of
a great party in the state, a party of
which Madge Kerr, the actress, was
recognized as at once the mouthpiece
and the prophetess., - ,
Truly, she did then look inspired.
Small wonder if men shouted them
selves hoarse, and well-balanced
minds forgot the dictates of common
sense. Apparently overcome ' with
emotion, she sank back out of light.
Burton imagined that a frail woman
had bent under too great a strain. He
little dreamed that the incident had
been planned beforehand, and its ef
fect calculated to a nicety.
He was so concerned about her that
she played up to "him with a skill she
had seldom displayed in her profes
sion. At the close of the meeting he
insisted on driving her home in his
car. With well-feigned hesitation,
she told him her story how she and
her husband lived happily on a ranch
in Chihuahua, until the day when
Pancho rode up to their homestead,
shot Mr. Kerr at sight, and offered a
helpless woman the vilest indignity
his depraved mind could conceive,.
This thrilling story provided the
last straw so far as John Burton was
concerned. He entered heart and
soul into a political campaign de
signed to bring about the introduc
tion of American law and order into
disturbed Mexico. He backed the
project with all his energies and accu
mulated wealth. At his own cost he
recruited and equipped a company
among his fellow workers, , and his
services were recognized by the gov
ernment by the bestowal of a tem
porary commission.
Thus, the whirligig of life saw John
Burton, the philanthropist, the social
worker, a man essentially devoted to
the arts of peace, become a khaki
clad warrior. Yet never did knight
embark on deeds of daring do with
truer sense of high purpose than this
young millionaire, fie was convinced
that his crusade against racial law
lessness was a holy one. It was, he
thought, only one of the accidents of
an extraordinary situation that the
foundry should now be coining money
by producing rifles and bayonets.
Such fearsome implements offered the
sole effective means yet devised by
mankind whereby crime might be
avenged and the guilty punished.
Never before had he been so sure of
rectitude of purpose.
With him, traveling west on a troop
train, were Rogers and Madge Kerr,
the latter now the acreditcd corres
pondent of a ring of important news
papers. She had contrived to make
herself one of the leading figures in
the punitive expedition. While the
country was arming, her rallying cry,
'Get Panchol" had never failed to
secure recruits or flog waning enthus
iasm. What more natural than that
she should be chosen to record for
the waiting millions the story of that
expedition's prowess in the field and
its ultimate success?
Very natty she looked in a' work
manlike outfit devised for the cam
paign. While on the train she obeyed
convention by wearing a short skirt,
but as soon as the frontier was reach
ed, she appeared in khaki blouse and
breeches, with stout leather riding
boots, pistol belt and bandoleer,
' Geef" cried Rogers appreciateively,
when first he and John saw her in
this soldierly rig, "Madge is some
girt! No wonder you fell for her
at once, Mr. Burton." -
John could hardly do other than
agree. He had not exactly 'fallen
for" the lady, but it would be churlish
to begrudge full tribute to her daunt
less spirit.
This is not a record of war but of
suffering, so the main incidents of the
campaign may be passed over without '
comment. It is one thing to whoop
up "preparedness" in a public meeting,
but quite another to lead troops
against the enemy. Burton had a
great deal to learn and much to oc
cupy his mind, and many a day of
hard routine work had to pass before
a atony-eyed general adjudged him
and his men adequately fitted to stop
a gap in the fighting line.
Even then there was neither sight
or sound of the foe, because such is
the pleasant way of Mexican bandits
who are ever ready to swoop down
on defenseless communities, but van
ish into thin air as soon as the serried
ranks of American regulars appear
on the skyline. Still, there was scout
ing to be done, with the conscious
ness that the uncxepected might hap
pened and any narrow cleft in the
hills produce a veritable enemy.
One day, a day differing in no re
spect from many others which had
gone before, John was asked to sanc
tion a bit of scout work along a moun
tain track leading well into the in
terior. An experienced sergeant was
anxious for the duty, but, to the young
conmmandcr's open dismay, Madge
Kerr was wishful to accompany him.
The sergeant promised that the
lady would not be allowed to run
any needless risks, so, against his
better, judgment, John gave the re
quisite permision. In so doing he
quite unwittingly fired a train which
metaphorically blew up a powder
magazine, because Madge and the
sergeant were captured, and by no
less important a person than Sebas
tian Pancho himself I .
It was a singular fact that when the
pair was brought into the outlaw's
camp, and Pancho discovered that one
of his prisoners was a woman, there
could not be the slightest doubt that
the two had never met before I The
sergeant was treated roughly, and
bound in merciless cowhide thongs,
but Pancho affected an almost chival
rie air in addressing Madqe,
"You are not engaged in woman's
work, snora." he said, sweeping off
his sombrera with a flourish, but far
be it trom me to otter the slightest
incivility to one of your beauty. And
now that I can look at you closely,
let me congratulate you on being a
moat unarming, loiaieri
He ran a bold eye over her fault
less lines, but Madge did not flinch.
Here was a man, a mere male crea
ture whose untamed passions and un
pleasant attributes were very much
on the surface, and well she knew
how to handle him. ' She smiled de
fiantly. .
"Your repute has gone before you,
senor," she cried. "No one has ever
imagined that you make war on wo
men!" , ' . ,
Assuredly, the situation waa match.
less in its irony. Here was Madge
Kerr, the new Joan of Arc who had
enflamed her country with her cry of
"Get Pancho!" telling that arch villain
himself that he was regarded by his
opponents as a sort of Chevalier Bay
ard I And here was the man who had
wronged her quite evidently tht will
ing aiave oi an un Known goaoessi
There was only one tent in the turn
bledown camp, and the rebel leader
uiuicaica wun a line gesture mat It
was wholly at the senorita'i disposal.
With much ceremony and florid words
tie uited tne nap and bowed her
witnin.
Madge did not know that Pancho's
fatuous admiration had been witnessed
with acute disfavor by a handsome
half-caste girl who approached while
these courtesies were being ex
changed. Had Rogers been present
he could have warned her, because
Pancho and Rogers had become very
Intimate during the latter'a visit to
Chihuahua, and everyone knew that
the vividly pretty Juanita was deeply
enamored of the bandit.
Meanwhile, Burton was not only
much worried by the failure of the
sergeant and Mrs. Kerr to return, but
.iad been given iurther cause for dis
comfiture by a regrettable discovery
made that day. . A neighboring picket
had surprised a small group of rebels
and captured several of them. These
men were brought in, and their arms
were examined with interest. . Then
rifles, very serviceable weapons, were
marked with the letters "B and "R,"
inclosed in a diamond-shaped device.
In a word, they were the output of the
Burton & Rogers foundry!
: How had these guns reached Mex
ico? It was a question hard to an
swer. When John put it to his man
ager, the latter professed the utter
most bewilderment He counseled
reticence, however.
"There's no use In making a song
about It," ' he said doggedly. "Gun
running it nothing new on this fron
tier, and our stuff may have passed
through many hands before it reached
those of Pancho."
Perforce, John had to remain cpn
tent, but he knew in his heart that the
explanation was a lame one, and de
termined to sift the matter to the ut
most at a more convenient period.
Strong patrols were sent out, but no
news of the missing pair wat received
until the sergeant himself rode in at
sunset on the second day. He. told
an exciting story. .
' "Mrs. Kerr has managed to get into
the good graces of Pancho," he an
nounced. But she't in a nastier fix
than she guesses, because Pancho's
girl, Juanita, is mad with jealousy, and
even let me escape to I might guide
troops to the camp. By that, means
she counts on getting square with
Pancho and the lady I"
This statement, unsavory in many
respects, could have but one out
come. A strong force was gathered
hastily, and struck the trail with the
sergeant as guide. It was deemed
expedient to march by night and en
deavor to rush the outlaw's camp at
dawn. At the sergeant had traversed
the route twice in two days, he made
no mistakes, and brought the rescuers
to an excellent position, a gap in the
hills where the last dispositions could
be made quietly, and the final whis
pered instructions conned again and
again, until all chance of error was
eliminated.
- The attack began at dawn, and de
veloped rapidly into a battle of some
magnitude, since your true Mexican
outlaw sleeps in his clothes and is
never parted from horse or rifle. The
sergeant, who had noted the ground
well during his captivity, warned Bur
ton that the bandits would attempt to
escape by a certain path throuah the
hills, which, however, could be ap
proached in its turn by way ot a lat
eral canon, thus exposing the enemy
to a successful flank attack. The af
fair progressed exactly along the ex
pected tines, and the Mexicans, caught
between two fires, fought like rats M
a pit.., - ' - .
. Uddlv enough, fancho mmselt
could have escaped, as he headed a
strong contingent which contrived to
smash its path along the selected line
of retreat. But he discovered that
Madge Kerr had been left behind,
and, literally daring everything for
her sake, rode back into the camp,
where a hot fight was now reaching
its inevitable end. Groups of Mex
icans, deprived of their horses by tha
first batch of their compatriots, wer
selling their lives dearly, or surren
dering when any notice was taken of
their frenzied signals.
The ring of steel and lead-wat fast
closing in, yet Pancho did not fly, but
continued his search. At last ha
found her cowering behind a pile ol
empty ammunition boxes.
"Come with mel" he cried passion
ately. "I love yout I can save yout
In a few months I wilt make you a
queen!"
She refused, whereupon the Mex
ican, rendered frantic by the thought
that he would probably lose her for
ever now, clasped her to hit breast.
She uttered a choking appeal that ha
would save himself, and the infatu
ated man interpreted the words a
conveying a hint that she returned hit
love.
So he relaxed his grip, and, wrench
ing herself free, the girl angrily bade
hhu go, since the American troop
were now within a few yards of her.
At that instant a Mexican woman,
none other than Juanita, came from)
tome hiding place in the camp, and, ,
noting the imminent danger oi her
one-time lover's position, sped swiftly
to his rescue. Pancho leaped to re-
Sain his horse, but was brought down
y a bayonet thrust, which inflicted a
seriout though not vital wound. Hia
assailant shortened the rifle for an
other stab, but the unhappy Juanita
flung herself on Pancho't body, and
received the tteel intended for him.
The battle wat now ended. Burton
was overjoyed at finding Madge Kerr
safe and sound. But hit delight wat
shortlived. In the confusion Roger
drew near.
"Pancho is not dead," whispered tha
manager. "None of the men hat rec
ognized him. Let him be taken back
to his own people on a safe con
duct." ,
"Pancho?" cried Burton, looking at
the wounded man in amazement. "Is
this he?'' . , ...
"Of course it It." :
1 "But how comes it that you know
him?" .. ,
"Why shouldn't 1 know him? H
must be allowed to escape, I tell you.
If he dies, our concern will never get
the money for the rifles I told him."
"You infernal traitor I" roared John.
- He taw red, and would have struck
hit companion, but Rogers fumbled in
a pocket tnd produced a typed sheet
which he thrust viciously before his
eyes. -
"You fooll" he muttered. "Don't
think you are not at deep in the mud
at I am. Look at this I"
Even in the ttrest of the moment,
John forced himself to read. The doc
ument was brief. It ran:
f March 2, 1916
Received of Messrs. Burton and
Rogers two thousand dollars in pay
ment for my services in the campaign
for intervention and for myself in per
suading John Burton to finance it ,
(Signed) MADGE KERR. '
The woman herself had witnessed
the scene between the two men and
was now striving to assume an air of
indifference.
"Is this true?" demanded John
brokenly, holding out the accusing
paper. ,
"Why shouldn't it be?" the retorted
with sullen brazennest. "One hat to
live tomehow."
A new light dawned on her unhappy
hearer. , -
"Had you ever met Pancho befora
the last two days?", he inquired.
"No," she said. "You had better
have the ttraight tale now. This
trouble needed engineering, and yon
were too easy.'' ,
Burton groaned aloud. He almost
reeled as he put a hand to hit eyet in
a vain effort to thut out the horrible
reality. All, ilU were false friends,
patriotic motives, even the most sa
cred name of womanhood. In that
mortal hour how could he fail to be
lieve that Humanity wat in the Grip
of Evil? . , ,
(END OF ELEVENTH EPISODE)
GIVES RULES FOR HAPPINESS.
Say "Good Morning" At Though
You Mean It, Advitet
, Milkman. ,',..,-
Recipes of Charlet Johnson,- milk
man, for a happy life.
Get up at 6 o clock.
Say "good morning" to everybody
as if you mean it. 1
Smile. - . ' .' 1 '
Get some kind of work that yon
like and stick to it. r -
Charles Johnson, whose round,
ruddy, cheery face and frendly eyes
have lightened the back door o many
a home on frosty winter mornings, or
in summer, spring and fall, hat been
twenty years on the job of delivering
milk and never missed a day. '
Mr. Johnson is not only a man
among men, but he it a milkman
among milkmen. For two decades he
hat been making the rounds, . seven
days in the week, and on Fourth of
July, Labor day, Christmas, Arbor
day, St Patrick's day, Lincoln's,
Washington's; yes, Johnson's birth
day, too, and every other day.
Some day Mr. Johnson is going to
take a vacation. But not yet. Too
many people need the milk delivered
and he cannot get away. ,
Charles Johnson is 52 veart old.
with a wife and four children.
"The simple life is the best." it
Johnson's condensation of his philo
sophy. "I do not drink, smoke, chew
or gam Die. i uon i want to, and be
sides, I haven't time.
"The simple life would make many
men happy. Every morning of the
year I jump out of bed at 6 o'clock
and go to work. It ia fun to work
when-you like to do it. -
''My customers all know me and alt
are my friends. It it a pleasure to
take the milk around to them. Getting
up in the morning is a healthy habit
People who lie abed until late mist
the best part of the day." Minne
apolis Journal.
Persistent Advertising Is the Road
to Success. . a1 .' .