CHAPTER XI.

Northern Advocate, 9 December 1893, Page 2

CHAPTER XI.

The event of the San Marcus ball had not proved entirely satisfactory to Cynthia, nor her stay with Miss Bertha May-

I crick an unalloyed delight. Sue returned to tho Dallas ranch with a very decided feeling of disappointment. Perhaps the behavior of Alcides on the evening in question feensibiy aggravated this state of mind. The door had hardly closed on tho departing Foraker when tho old man presented himself, gun in hand, before the astonished Maverick household and excitedly announced his intention of taking his daughter home with him that very night. IJ4 vain Cynthia pleaded fatigue, md Miss Bertha declared that the festivities of the week were not ended. In vain the accommodating blacksmith extended to Alcides the hospitalities of his dwelling and urged that it was too late altogether .to think of attempting the journey, the old man remained obdurate, and there was nothing to do but comply. It will be understood by my feminine readers that the young lady did this with very ill grace* and that she rose rather late upon the following day a little fretful and cross in consequence. "I suppose them earrings didn't fetch that Foraker to the extent she expected," commented Alcides, who was making preparations to ride into town for some family stores he had forgotten. The elder Dallas referred to some jewelry of glaring pattern he had recently pvfchased for Cynthia. He wa3 not altogether confident of the purity or appropriateness of his own taste.- He continued his preparations for departure, but was quietly observant and critical. Miss Dallas took no notico of the solicitude of her sire. She was annoyed and displeased for many reasons; at her father, for his abrupt termination of her visit; at Henry Bruce; for not proffering the attention she had determined beforehand to thwart; at the captain, for his susceptibility to the attractions of other belles and his disposition to be convivial while in her company. Cynthia was too experienced in the society of the frontier to be either puritanical or prudish in the matter of beverages, but Bhe resented the captain's indulgence tinder the circumstances with the sincerity it deserved. Then there were other matters of so-licitude-^not co apparent to the masculine mind, hv.'i, which a sympathetic sex will readily appreciate — matters between herself and Miss Bertha, wherein the rival charms of the young ladies had come in collision, resulting in consequent jealousy and woe. The agony of mind induced by such a succession of causes is readily apparent, so that latev, when Mr. Bnck Jerrold rode up to tho ranch gate and threw himself from the saddle, he was welcomed with a cordiality that might have been misleading. "What hoss ye got thar, Buck?" inquired Alcides suspiciously, noting the enthusiasm of his daughter's manner. "Ain't thet Foraker's gray?" "I reckon so," Mr. Jen-old returned, with a gravity of mar. ■ liiat impressed* both Alcides and Cynthia. "I reckon^ so, Al, and I don't wonder ye ask me. The fact is, so much hez taken place sence last night thet I kin hardly git it straight myself or git started to tell it. I'm ridin thet hoss because I've got permission from Jedge Pemberton to do so, and because Ike Mosely hez seized Buck* shot to transport a prisoner to the jail at Bradford post." He glanced quickly at Cynthia. "To cut a long story short," he continued, averting his eyes from the girl's face, "Jack Foraker was fonnd lyin dead on the prairie this mornin with a bullot wound in his left breast. His hoss was grazing quietly in the neighborhood. There wasn't any explanation of the shootin, and all sorts of theories were flyin about at San Marcus, when a couple of fellers rode into town and allowed thet they met Ike Mosely and his deputies half way to The Post, and thet they bed the man who done it." "And who was it?" asked Alcides breathlessly. Buck Jerrold glanced again at Cynthia. She was seated on the doorstone of the ranch with clasped hands and startled eyes, noting every detail of the intelligence. "I don't know nothin about the matter myself one way or t'other," responded Buck, turning his eyes inward as if to escape the imputation of #being respond sible for what he was about to conirriuTjM cate, "but Ridge Bartram said thet J^j man they hed was ridin Buckshot!' and 1 thet he had confessed to hevin shot Foraker in a hand to hand fight on hossback early this mornin." •"*# "But who was it?" Cynthia broke in impatiently. "Henry Bruce," said Jerrold quietly. There was a dead silence. Dallas and Jerrold exchanged glances. A moment later Cynthia rose to her feet, white as the neighboring wall, and ran quickly into the house. In the hush that followed her departure the two men grew restless. The old man was the first to speak, and when he did so it was in tones of exultation. "Waal, dern my skin, ef thet young feller don't deserve the thanks of the entire county!" he exclaimed, slapping his leg in self congratulation over Foraker's untimely decease. "I allers did take consider'ble stock in Henry Bruce, and now I'm a tenderfoot ef he ain't riz in my estimation a clean hundred per cent." Buck Jerrold assented with less emphasis. He was pondering the absence of Cynthia. "Thar's no <" ■■■■•-} the fact thet Jack Foraker's uu..i1. .-. v public benefit," he replied, with cheerful philosophy. "But I reckon, Al, thar's a good many ez is takin pretty hard the mess young Bruce hez got himself inter. It seemed to break the Keraochans up pretty bad, and Miss Stafford was plumb besides herself. They left town fur the Mesquite ranch ez soon ez they learn the facts, and Phil Kernochan said he was goin to The Post afterwards." A slight rustling in the direction of Cynthia's bedroom showed that Mr. Jerrold's facts were noted. "Doggone it, Buck, ye're right!" exclaimed Alcides suddenly as the possible danger of Bruce's suggested itself to his mind. "Them sogers of Foraker's comnanv micht take it into their cussed

beads to be ugly, and then thar's no to lliii what they, mightn't jest natch'ally do." ' "- -. . ... He turned his dull eyes toward the river and devoted some moments to profound meditation. "I'm rtot so sure it wouldn't be a right smart idea to let Colonel Hunt and his rangers know how matters stand," he suggested. He glanced inquiringly at Jerrold. That gentleman appeared lost in thought. "Waal, I reckon I'll go to town and see what's tha latest developments," he said finally. "Hedn't ye better go 'long?" Mr. Jerrold reflected. He would have much preferred a half hour's conversation with Cynthia, but the occasion was evidently not a propitious one. Since the delivery of his unwelddme intelligence he had seen nothing of her. He lounged idly about the door a few minutes in the hope that she might come out. She did not appear. So he turned reluctantly to accompany Alcidejs, '

"Henry Bruce," said Jerrold quietly. The old man had already mounted the box seat of hia wagon and taken up the reins. He Whipped tip smartly, and with a loud protest Horn, axle and spring the crazy conveyance got fairly under way. Jerrold tarried only to cast bno I regretful glance in the direction of Cynthia's window; then mounting the gray he dashed after him down the road. In a few minutes the figures of both men were lost to view in the shrubbery that bordered the river. The house grew strangely quiet after their departure. The ebony Amelia had departed early that morning for a day's holiday at San Marcus, bo the busy sounds df the kitchen were hushed. A general air of reposeful indifference seemed to have settled down upon the Dallas ranch with the sunbeams that slumbered on its porch. It was late in the afternoon when the door opened suddenly and Cynthia came out. She was dressed as for a journey. She wore the long habit fainiiiar to her riding excursions, and as she stepped from the doorstone her daintily gathered skirts revealed diminutive riding boots and silver spurs. Beyond a slight redness of the eyelids, there was no trace of the agitation of a few hours before, but in place of it a settled resolve shone in her movements. She passed quickly across the dooryard, heedless of the gamI bols of Aulus and the bleats of the tethered antelope. Arriving at the barn in the rear of the ranch, she roused herself sufficiently to shut the great hound in a neighboring box stall and hook the door securely, whereupon, without further delay, she led her pony from the stable and saddled and bridled him as fast as her eager fingers could manipulate buckle and strap. She accomplished this task with a * deft ease to which habit had long accustomed her. With equal readiness she led the obedient mustang to an adjacent tree stump, where she effected successfully the somewhat discommoding achievement of mounting. Then with a sharp cut of her riding -whip she started Pepita at once into a gallop and struck out over the prairie with a directness that showed her fixedness of purpose. Her mind was made up; she had decided what to do. In the interval since she had learned of the misfortune that had overtaken Hemy Brace she had - weighed the possible dangers of his poaition and resolved that assistance must be sent him at all hazards. The forebodings of Alcides were scarcely spoken when they awoke the courage and sympathy of her resolute little heart. She had waited only to see if her father or Jerrold would return to send the warning the former had suggested. They had not done so. Roused now to a fever of 1 excitement at the delay, she had determined to be the bearer of the tidings herself. To see Colonel Hunt, who was a friend of her father's and well known to Cynthia; to acquaint him with the circumI stances of the tragedy of the early morning; to champion Bruce's cause to the utmost, and so work upon the sympathies of the ranger captain that he would summon his men and go at once to Bradford post — this was the errand the courageous girl had undertaken. And now as she set out upon this mad ride over valley and divide her pulses throbbed with anxiety and her heart grew faint, fearing some possible mischanco that might cause the failure of her plan. What if the colonel should be atsent! What if the rangers had moved their camp from the locality she so well knew and had so ,of ten visited with her fafcherl What if some other warning had called these adventurous men away from their headquarters, and she should arrive to find the place a solitude and herself powerless to aid or save him! In terror at the thought she plied without pity both whip and spur. The panting Pepita fairly flew! Used as she was to the saddle, the breathless haste, the agony of that terrible gallop, remained always an event in Cynthia's memory. She heeded not the familiar landscape, undulating ever before her like a billowy 1 sea; the alarmed cattle that fled in a panic from the thunder of her approach; the occasional bands of antelope that dashed away affrighted; the flocks of quail and summer duck that whirred to 4

the right and left as she dashed through copse and underbrush or came suddenly upon some outlying rool. On she sped; while the trees flew reeling by and the ravens croaked an omi* nous presage from the wayside. Pepita ■wa.s flagging a Jittlo. She had still some miles to go. The sun was sinking slowly but surely to the horizon. Yet taking ever with the skill of the frontier the shortest and most direct route to her rendezvous, plunging through chaparral at the peril of life and limb, her garments torn,- her pony bleeding from the thorny thicket, she still held her course to the westward and galloped on with a courage that in man would have been heroic, but in woman was sublime. * # * # * # „, • fTO BE OONTINUKI).] '^!l_- ~ _