FROM THE DEPTHS.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXVII, Issue 5372, 3 September 1904, Page 13

FROM THE DEPTHS.

(By Mrs Edna H. Billion.)

Along tho-narrow trail, at a Ircnicnylous pace, rtxl© a young man in cmrtioy oastnme, mounted on Ins lough little mustang. Arriving at a narrow lodge, ho slowed tlio hor-o to a, walk trod allowed that trained animal to pick j.ts way over tlio treacherous puss. L'Uis pass was known as ‘’Devil's Dodge,” one, ■of tlio most dangerous places lor miles .'/.round, tor on one side was the almost ■perpendicular wall, on tlio other the ■deep chasm. Onco across ho was about to start the horse into a gallop, when a. slight poise in the hushes caused him to stop. Ever alert for danger, tho man grasped his revolver. Soon he hoard a. sleepy Stub, and thou a childish voice cried; “Papa! Papal” “What tho devil is the matter now?” .muttered the man. as he strode into I,ho bushes. And well might lie say it, lor there, with two chubby fists covering her eyes, sat a little girl. "Papa, pupa,” sobbed tho little one again. , , ‘‘Wall, what’s tho matter."” growled tho man. ‘Tso 'fraid I’so losted,” she replied. “Oh, please take me to my papa.” '•Who is yor pa, and what's yer name “Papa’s my farvor, and I’so Flossy Brown. Papa's a p’liccman,” she added with groat importance. Accustomed as ho was to surprises, tho man was hardly prepared for this. More he was, living for bis lilc, only to bo stopped by the daughter of the man hunting him. To take her homo meant tho rope for him, lor horse stealing is considered a crime in those parts. With an oath, as ho thought of tlio delay, Watson turned to go, when tho little ono sookc.

“You swored, yon did, an 1 it’s bad to iwore .. Please find papa; I’so all lie’s illot, 'cause mamma's dead.” All Unit waa good in the man came lo beln him at the sound of tho pitiful ■voice.' Without more hesitation lie lift.nfl tlio girl to the horse's hack, and mounting behind her, went back down the trail.

On tlio littlo one prattled, but lie beard not a word; on. till tbo curly head •of the child finally nestled on his arm nod the little one fell asleep. About two hours they travelled thus, and then came upon the men hunting for him. At tlio sight of the fellow calmly riding toward them, the sheriffs amazement knew no bounds, But at tlio sight of bis child that amazement turned to wrath. “You scoundrel,” h© shrieked, “couldn’t you bo convent stealing horses? Do you think to buy yor liberty with my child? By heavens! you shall pay for this, Ben Watson.” The loud voice awakened th© child, who. seeing her father, shouted joyously. With th© aid of Wutson sho slipped to tho ground and ran to hor father. “He’s dood, papa,” she cried, “ho iringed mo hack when I was losted. He's dood.” Then spoko Ben Watson as ho calmly ißyed the throe men: “I found ydr little gal up beyond ‘devil’s lodge,’ but X ■don’t return hor to ask for my liberty, nor for love of you”—ho smiled grimly —“hut because I once had a littlo luster like her.” The sheriff’s voice was husky. “Ben, you’ve been a hard ticket, hub there must ho some good in yo, and I ain’t without a heart. Ye kin go, but for iier sake bo a better fellow.”

Lifting bis hat, Watson turned and once again went up the trail, but this ilim© not a hunted horse thief, instead —a man.