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By FRANK H. SPEARMAN V Franl H. Spearman 1 to the presidio. And WNUServ.c. ; ikely hiding from pnn!hers. Don., ;nmunltioa UeVe none to "All right. Simmle." murmured r,arda,"e- - stressing the Creek by nickname, "you stalk him." Minute after minute passed, with Bowie and the sccn.t anxiously wait-WR- . The mere pruspect of to food had excited the dormant salivary glands of the hungry men that each minute after the first was almost twture. Yet both knew no more could be done than the Indian would do. If the scout Pardaloe tried to jt'!p the stalk he might only spoil tilings. They must wait and lick their hopeful chops. "What's keeping him half an hour like this?" grumbled Pardaloe. "Half an hour nothing, Ben. Pa-tience," counseled Bowie. The words had barely left his lips when they heard the distant crack of a ride. In a moment both men were run-ning in the direction from which the report had come. It was some Job to keep up with Pardaloe's long legs. He was as graceful as a camel, but the ground he could cover in an emergency was a caution. When, by dint of calling and answering, two hungry men found the Indian, he was ac-tively cutting up the handsome buck. The scout needed no instructions. He put down his rifle and began hunting chips for a Are. Bowie got his flint and tinder ready. "No. I don't feel like traveling to-day. Been traveling for three weeks now. Today 1 put away for eatin'. What say, Injun?" Pardaloe spoke after the first hour of a repast that promised to last SYNOPSIS Jlithy. Spanish owner '"ornia rancho. refuses e rXnt! of a raid by ""Srra Indians. One day ;,tf iv decided to seek the a S mission for his ifth. Indian, strike. Don I from the arms of "hS maid. Monica, and ilv to the hills. Padre d J,nnary frfnd of the fam-j-XE-I -2-- jrst make sure bad e. They might kill aoned Diego. 'exclaimed the padre, as :.jence as he ever allowed i'stray. "That is nothing, right kill me. Padre." sug- - ego darkly. ,ind, blowing In a gust, nlt into calm, the mis- - changed. "True, gently re-al himself. "You might ,et. Remain here, hidden at I will go forward and ;ere is danger." ea were striving for their the padre to keep his ervant from harm, Diego iis infirm master from t, Diego," said the padre, can you see anyone?" woman and a boy. They She holds him and with a stick." said Diego in his iccents. "Now the boy He is running. She is running into the wheat wer, Padre. Have care! J!" tere lost on the aged a his hands outstretched :;peal as he stumbled on :o stay the angry Monica. ..ready in the tall wheat, :jrsuing her escaping vie-tw- o were running down ihrough the grain which bring them into the pad-the- n his shout reached f both pursued and pur-- - r. seeine the advancing my dear mis. tress, she is lost. lost. And my love. "And Dona Juana. where is she now?" asked the padre patiently. "In the home of her sister. Dnna Teresa, at the presidio. I wnlked all the way back here today to End if possible, some garments for my unhappy mistress." "And had Don Alfredo no warn-in- g of this attack?" pursued the padre. Monica almost shrieked as she clasped her hands. "Warning upon warning, Don Alfredo had! For a week I warned him. The cook told me the attack would come. I begged my master to flee with the family to the presidio. He only laughed. 'Have I not had for a time the boy of the chief Sobriano here in my household?' he would say to me. 'Sobriano will control the young men. He will not allow them to at-tack us. We are as safe as Los Alamos, Monica, as they are at the presidio.' "Only Sunday night the cook said to me: 'Tomorrow they come!' I told Don Alfredo. The Senora begged him to heed the warnings. He was impatient but he yielded. Tomorrow morning, then, we will go. querida mia.' he told her. And then next morning when he went to get the horses they swept down on us. Woe to Los Alamos!" Diego asked a question his first in the Indian tongue. Monica an-swered in Spanish. "It was that boy." she cried, "that Indian fiend, Yosco! Still my master would have escaped with his life but for him. When Don Alfredo and the two saw the Indians come they fled to the house for firearms. Yos-co, accursed boy, barred the front door against them! They could not get Into the house; they were slaugh-tered, all three, on the portico be-fore the barred door barred by this young fiend. And this morning, back he came to steal the silver in the house. I caught him. It is he that I was beating, and now he has escaped." The three moved slowly on through the wheat toward the ranch house. serves of raw venison. As they sat peacefully around their frugal fire they mourned for the tobacco they had squandered in more prosperous days. Deprived of this, their only con-solation, the three Indulged in a Barmecide feast of the longed-fo- r weed. The scout descanted on the beauties of well-cure- d Kentucky leaf crushed in the pipe; Simmie spoke up modestly for willow Killickinnic; Bowie thought just one cigar only one would make him perfectly hap-py. It was while this futile discus-sion was going on that Simmie, ly-ing, like his companions, on his back, pricked up his ears. Next he sat up and began to look around. "What's a matter, Injun?" asked Pardaloe indolently. "What's that noise?" .asked the half-bree- d in turn. "You tell," retorted the scout. Bowie, lost in thought, only heard the questions and listened for sounds. Neither of the whites hetrd anything, but as the Indian walked quietly toward the edge of the long ledge both men sat up. Simmie, behind a pine tree, looked down the great canyon and into the west. His instinct was not at fault. He beck-oned cautiously to his companions. When they joined him, he whispered to Pardaloe to scatter the embers of the fire, come back and lie down. Peering together from this partial cover, the Texan could make out at a considerable distance below a straggling procession of men on po-nies, winding their way up the long canyon grade. Reaching a wide-ope- n space after some further trav-el, the procession broke and its horsemen made ready for a halt. For a long time the hidden men watched the scene with rapt atten-tion, speaking in whispers. "Injuns," said Pardaloe at length. After a further pause Bowie turned to crawl back from the brink of the ledge, signaling to his men to fol-low. Reaching a point where they could speak more freely, the talk began. Bowie spoke first. "Indians, sure enough." "And a bunch of 'em," added the scout. "What do you make of 'em, Sim-mie?" The question was addressed to the Creek. "I'd have to get closer to make things out. Looks to me like a raid-ing party, maybe heading for their mountain hide-out.- " "What makes you think it's a raiding party?" asked Bowie. "Most of 'em don't know how to handle their ponies. Looks as if they've been run off, eh, Ben? And no squaws as far as I can see. Some of them are carrying loot," he add-ed. "You can see them unloading stuff. And there was some mix-u- p at the front when they halted." "AH right, what we going to do?" asked Pardaloe, appealing to Bowie. "Looks as if they're heading for us, doesn't it?" returned Bowie. "If they keep on up the canyon they're bound to run foul of us. If we turn back we've got a good ten miles of a climb to get away from them. We never could do it they've got horses . . . I'll tell you, Simmie; get in close and make sure what they're doing." Simmie was gone a long time, so long that the white men began to wonder. Then they heard his careful footsteps. "Thought they'd caught you, Sim-mie," said Bowie. "What did you find out?" "Not much more than I knew be-fore. It's a war party on their way home not a squaw anywhere around. Some of those ponies have Spanish saddles. They've raided a rancho." "Any sign of wounded?" Simmie shook his head. "If they had any wounded they must have died on the way up no sign of any now. They've been chased that's sure. Some of those ponies are In bad shape they've been run to death." "Horses!" boomed Pardaloe, but cautiously. He licked his chops. led, dumfounded. But only hen, tearing into the with the swiftness of a could only be followed ye as the swaying wheal of his flight. lashed ahead. Even the e padre did not check her "Diego!" she cried loudly idre's neophyte. "After rat let him go!" ared but made no move, it the rapid parting of heads that marked the to escape; but most of ?d at the strange Monica f him. Her scant gown CHAPTER III Too cold and too hungry to sleep, Bowie sat looking into his dying ' campfire, speculating on what still might be ahead of him and his com-- 1 panions. His thoughts reverted less willingly to what he had left be-hind: the acute agony of thirst, the steady gnawing of hunger, the fiend-ish heat of the desert, the killing of the last pony for food. But at least the horror of this was behind him. The mountains could not be worse; they might be better. The sky was overcast and the nieht air. drifting silently down from ! the higher Sierras, chilled him to the bone. On the other side of the campfire embers, stretched asleep ! on the rocky ground, lay a lanky Missourian, the scout, Ben Parda- - lde, with his feet so close to fne fire that it seemed as if they might blaze up any minute. His sleep was fitful, like that of a famished man, unlike his normal sleep with which Bowie, after three weeks of hard camp life, had grown too familiar. Pardaloe, tall and gaunt, twisted and turned, drew up his legs and thrust them desperately out again. From his open mouth there issued sighs and burbles. Even the famil-iar snore was lacking; Ben was too weak to snore. The third man. Bob Simms, a half-bree- d Creek Indian, lay sleep-ing more quietly a little apart from the restless scout not, perhaps, more inured to hunger and hard-ship than his fellow adventurers but certainly more stoical in endur-ance. Hunger and the piercing night air presently roused Bowie from a trou-bled sleep. He started off to find "Monica, what is the meaning of this?" all day. "I'll ask you one question, Henry," continued Pardaloe after getting no response from Simmie, and speaking now to Bowie. "Be we or been't we in Californy?" Bowie was disposing of a venison shank. "Ben," he said reassuring-ly, "we 'be.' Where did you think you 'be'?" Pardaloe, gnawing at what was left on the bone of his venison sad-dle, spoke at ease. "Well, up to about a hour ago I thought I was in hell But I guess this must be Californy. Things seem to be corn-in- " our way since Simmie brought down this deer. Now, boys," he added precatorily, "hang on to ev-ery scrap of this meat every scrap; might not sight another for a week. Mountains is big around here, they sure are. The highest is behind us. And I say, now while our stomachs is full, push on till we get down where there's plenty of game. We're started downhill but we're too high yet by near a mile, and going down-ki- n . mile is a long way unless you iff. Her features were nth grief and rage. Her aed and tear stained, Mir lockets, and still she t Diego in the Indian it pointed after' the flee- - " exclaimed Padre Pas-Mian- !" he repeated in smand, for she scarcely i "What are you do-i- re you?" a2ed creature suddenly The stick dropped Msp. She clasped both a haggard face and with try threw herself pros- - ground at the padre's V gasped the sorely priest, "are you?" id the stolid Diego col- - you not know? It is exclaimed the pad-;- t whom I have known Jf Jears-wh- om I bap-- Diego. Rise, my ttise! Speak!" '"be exclaimed as Diego obbing woman to her "Monica! What is this? What is the S thief Htl. fall down." Pardaloe stretched out on the kindling chips. Later, while he was stumbling along in the faint light of dawn, feeling here and there as his feet kicked into fragments of bark and rotten branches fallen from trees, he became aware of an object dis-tantly silhouetted against the eastern horizon. Noiselessly he sank flat to the ground to look and listen. He thought the thing might be alive. Some moments passed before he could determine. Luckily he had it between him and the light Patience and the rapidly growing dawn re-warded his vision. He was able to see the object more clearly Nor with it a was he long in identifying pair of antlers. Caution was nec-essary. The adventurers were starved men. They had not tasted food or more meat for ten days nor than three days; that buck meant relief from hunger pangs. He crept stealthily back to camp. U such their halting place for the night might be called. Since sleep is for food and the only substitute drink his companions were stiu asleep. He shook the scout care-full- y and with a cautioning Hist. The suppressed sound woke the In oTan Ben Pardaloe sUrred. whispered Bowie-"- "Wake up. Ben," be buck. Wake up. Simmie.( added to the Creek. "a Not a word answered him. no fur therword was needed. The two men feet toge her. They were on their cold rifles. Vn picked up their way?" snorted Pardaloe. peering abTo the east in the chaparral. ' miere are your mistress?" 'ffi again to her trem-- her face as she fright hand. "Woe is master cruelly slain! n 'named unto death. rerecita, stolen by the Only Alfredito left 'Alamos!" missioner and the ne-t- 0 the horrible re-- murders of the day be-- S'tened to the end. .7. leaning again on art and mind lifted .Tat0"' his ln Pectacleofthe ven- - "bJken but God steadied ; said, gasping with ?tW.'ers came- - Alfre- - w Tl,e nouse 18 ar,d the gran- - k fney rode away "vages; Alfredito ibovdre' heis8 : worshiped Z h Iittle siste- - " me of them? X bJ ed the trail far 'hm!l" the mountains :ifn',und W0"nded so ! tot U,6ir arrows-v- ' back-The-y of Don Alfredo "We've got to get a chance at them." He peered at Bowie. "What we going to do. Henry?" Bowie turned to Simmie. "How many of them are there?" "Near as I could count, fifty or fifty-five- ." "The question is, how to keep out of their way," said Bowie, reflect-ing. "If they come up this way in the morning we'll have to mix with them whether we want to or not. Shall we turn back or try to dodge past 'em tonight?" "Injuns got good ears," ob-served Pardaloe grimly. "But no guns," retorted Bowie, still thinking. "I believe." he went on, "we can get around them to-night without losing any hair. "They've got what looks to m like a couple of prisoners," re-marked Simmie casually. "Prisoners?" echoed Bowie. "Why ,didn't you say so before?" "I might be all wrong." continued ,the impassive Creek. "I wanted to ,get closer to make sure, but I ,thought I was down there too long." Bowie acted as if an electric shock had galvanized him. "HeU!" he ,snapped testily. "That's a horse of another color. I've heard these Cal-ifornia Indians are close to canni-bals have camped to 1 They may make a meal cf their prisoners. to lock into this corn !We've got alng (TO BE COMIMKD) ground. "If I hart a pipe oi ioDacco I'd call this a fair enough country. But there's too much snow on them hich fellers-nig- hts are too blamed cold Well. Henry"-- so the scout ad-dressed Bowie "if you say go, it's me one more hour at go- - but give toi's deer-t- hen I'll make a start La-'il- tut with a more hopeful view"of life, the little party of Tex-an- s made their way down the west-er- n slope of the Sierras. The dif-ference between empty stomachs cheered them on and full stomachs and the substantial re-mains their way, cf their feast they carried in skewered from the sacks, crudely buck's hide. and forbidding ter- - It was a rough rin following. "Ain't seen they were nor hair of a livin' critter aU Say Ben rambled on as the sun sank in the west. "Well, we chewed after we On-f- s leather three days fed your pony. Henry." he said to "Guess fresh deer h.de w.U Bowie us goin'. Why ain't this a good S to camp for the night, right fire? What say. Henry? Here's wa- - ,eBowied was willing to camp, and never .n e - peaceful Simmie ,he point nosed objection on a minor they had reached was spot rlie brink of a long ledge I , Joke away below them into an flat A mountain brook gur- - per They built a fire. Kd dSn?-n- - thcr re- - - Ueparthent liiiiiiiiUimAii pairs of buttons down the front and sash bow add to the youthful charm of this frock. With your big hat and patent shoes, it will make you look as ii you had stepped from the pages of the latest fashion book and it proves once more that to get real individuality as well as newness,' you'll be wise to make your own. A step-by-ste- p sew chart makes the easy pattern even easier. Pattern No. 8G80 is designed for sizes 12, 14, 16, 18 and 20. Size 14 requires 3 yards of 30-in- ma-terial without nap and 2 yards of ruffling. Send order to: SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 149 New Montgomery Ave. San Francisco Calil. 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Horses have been known to die from seasickness, female apes have grieved themselves to death over the loss of a baby and human beings have developed such in-tense melancholia from homesick-ness that it has proved fatal. SS25 C When witnesses are sworn in the law courts of Germany, all other persons in the room, Includ-ing the judges, likewise rise and raise their right hand. Collier's. Gems of Thought T VALUE my garden more for 1 being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs. I Addiscn. Classical quotation is the pa-role of literary men all over the world. Johnson. , Good breeding is the blossom of good sense. Young. The conscious utterance of thought, by speech or action, to any end, is art. Emerson. What you do not want is dear at a farthing. Cato. The man that blushes is not quite a brute. Young. Food for the Soul Had I a loaf of bread I would sell half and buy hyacinths to feed my soul. Confucius. Quite the Opposite "Is that a popular song your daughter is singing?" "Not in this house." A good joke isn't damaged when it's cracked. Why Bother Then? "Why don't you show your wife who's master in the house?" "She knows." THE WHEREFROM Night as Day "Don't you find that a new baby brightens up a home?" "I do. We have the lights on all night now." Nicely Said and Honest "George, tell me the truth. Am I the first girl you've ever loved?" "N-no- , but I'm m lot harder to please than I used to be." A Bad Start "Why isn't Bill Jones at work this morning?" asked the foreman one Monday. "He met with an accident at his wedding on Saturday," said one of his mates. "Accident?" "Yes. As he and his missus left the church, some of the lads made an archway of picks for them to pass under. Somebody blew a whistle, and the whole lot downed tools." Light housekeeping is said to be one canned thing after another. iff "What pretty hair you have, Jean. You get it from your moth-er, don't you?" "No, I s'pose I get it from dad-dy. His is all gone." Just the Reverse At a reception the woman chatted for some timt with the distinguished guest. One of the listeners complimented her. "Oh, really," she said with a smile, Tve just been concealing my ignor-ance." The distinguished guest smiled gal-lantly. "Not at all, not at all, my dear lady. Quite Ute contrary, I assure you." Honest in Plenty Nothing can make a man hon-- est like plenty to eat and plenty , to wear. Whispered Secrets As everyone is pleased with im-agining that he knows something not yet commonly divulged, se-cret history easily gains credit; but it is for the most part be-lieved only while it circulates in whispers, and when once it is openly told, is openly refuted. Dr. Johnson. Napoleon Said: The word impossible is not la my dictionary.