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Show n 1 11 L.. Chawtord 3yY.WmpN 'HMOiMfA" "ARFTHUM'nCM eg? AUTHOR OF 1LWSTMTJ0MJW tf.WJU SYNOPSIS. Tartar Klrl, became onamnrcd ef a Kolili'n bearded Htranfir who was roipcili)iK and mudylnn licrlm In the vicinity of her lioine In central Asia, ami revealed tn him the lorn t Inn of a mine of rubies hnptntf tlmt the strunKcr would love her In return for her disclosure. They were followed to th cave by the who blocked up thn flrl'i relatives, 8nd drew off the water supply, Ttarnkfl, ft leaving tin) couple to die, Continued. The traveler up the sack and waded out upon the tiny beach. He looked up rather anxiously, though he could not have Been a head looking down from above if there had been any one there. There was not light enough. He understood also that If the men were going to shoot at him from the height they would wait till it was daylight. Paraka stood still in the water, which wan up to her walHt, and he paid no attention to her, but sat down to think what he should do. The night was warm, and his clothes He would dry on him by degrees. would have taken them off and spread them out, for he thought no more of Baraka's presence than if she had been a harmless young animal standing there in the pool, but he could not tell what might happen at any moment, and so long as he was dressed and bad all bis few belongings about him, he felt ready to meet fate. Paraka saw that he did not heed her, and was thinking. She came up out of the water very slowly, and she modestly loosened her wet garment from her, so that it bung straight when she stood at the end of the beach, as far from the traveler as possible. She, also, sat down to dry herself; and there was silence for a long ' time. After half an hour the traveler rose and began to examine the rock, feeling It with his hands wherever there was the least shadow, as high as he could reach, to find If there was any foothold, though he was already sure that there was not. "There is no way out," Daraka said at last "I have been here by day. I have seen." "They will let themselves down from above with ropes, till they are near enough to shoot," the traveler answered. , "No," replied Daraka. "They know that you have a good weapon, and they Will not risk their lives. They will leave us here to starve. That Is what they will do. It is our portion, and we shall die. It will be easy, for there is water, and when we are hungry we can drink our fill. You will die first. You are not as we are, you cannot live so long without food." The traveler wondered if she was right, but he said nothing. "If we had got out with the treas-ure,- " continued Haraka. "you would have loved me for It. becau.se you would have, been the greatest man in the world through me. Hut now, be cause we must dio, you hate me. I understand.. If you do not kill me you will die first; and when you are dead I shall kins you many times, till I die also. It will be very easy. I am not afraid." The man sat quite still and looked at the dark streak by the edge of the where the water had wet it when ( pool the falling boulder outside had sent in little waves. He could see it distinctly. Again there was silence for a long time. Now and then Haraka loosened her only garment about her as she sat, so that It might dry more quickly; and she quietly wrung out her thick black hair and shook it over her shoulders to dry it, too, and stuck her two silver pins Into the sand beside her. Still the traveler sat with bent head, gazing at the edge or the pool. His hands were quite dry now, and he slowly rubbed the clinging moisture from his revolver. Some men would have been thinking, in such a plight, that if starving wore too hard to bear, a bullet would shorten their sufferings In the end; but this man was very full of life, and the love of life, and while he lived he would hope. He still watched the same dark streak where the sand wjh wet; ho had not realized that he hud been so far from it till then, but by looking at it a long time in the starlight hla sight had probably grown tired, so that he no longer saw it distinctly. He raised himself a little on his hands and pushed himself down till it was quite clearly visible again, and he looked at ' the rock opMslte and up to the stars again, to rest hi eyes, lie wa not more than a yard from the water now. The place was very quiet. From far above a slight draught of air descended, warm from the rocks that had been heated ull day In the sun. IHit there was no sound except when Haraka moved a little. Presently she did not move any more, and when the traveler looked he saw that slie was curled up on the sand, as eastern women li when they sleep, and her head rested on her hand; for her garment was dry now, and sho was drowsy after the walk and the effort fche had made. since there wns no escape from death, and as the man did not love her. she might as well sleep If she could. Ho had been certain of the distance between his feet and the water's edi" as 'ho sat; It had been n yard at th; CHAPTER I. flHhed - fg most. Iiut now it was more; ho was sure that it was a yard and a half at the least. He rubbed his eyes and looked hard at the dark belt of wet sand, and it was twice as wide as It had been, Tho water was still running out somewhere, but it was no longer running In. and in an hour or two the pool would bo dry. The traveler was something of an engineer, and understood sooner than an ordinary man could have done, that his enemies had intentionally stopped up the narrow entrance through which he had to come, both to make his escape impossible, and to hasten his end by depriving him of water. The fallen boulder alone could not have kept out the overflow of the Bprlng effectually. They must have shoveled down masses of earth, with the plants that grew tn it abundantly and filled it with twining threadlike roots, and they must have skillfully forced quantities of the stuff into the openings all round the big stone, making a regular dam against the spring, which would soon run down in the opposite direction. They knew, of course, that Paraka had led him to the place and had gone In with him, for she had left all her outer garments outside, and they meant that she should die also, with her secret. In a week, or a fortnight, or a month, they would come and dig away the dam and pry the boulder aside, and would get in and find the white bones of the two on the sand, after the vultures had picked them clean; and they would take the trav eler's good revolver, and his money, He thought of all these things us he sat there in the dim light, and wat med the slow receding of the water-line- , and listened to the girl's soft and regular breathing. There was no death In her dream, as she slept away the last hours of the night, though there might not be many more nights for ber. He heard her breath, but he did not heed her, for the water was sinking before him, sinking away Into tho sand, now that It was no longer fed from the opening. He sat motionless, and his thoughts ran madly from hope to despair and back again to hope. The water was going down, beyond question; if It was merely draining Itself through the sand to some subterranean channel, he was lost, but if It was flowing away through any passage like the one by which he had entered, there was still a chance of escape a very small chance. When death Is at the gate the tiniest loophole looks wide enough to crawl through. The surface of the pool subsided, but there was no loophole; and as the traveler watched, hope sank in his heart, like the water In the hollow of the sand; but Paraka slept on peacefully, curled up on her side like a little wild animal. When the pool was almost dry the traveler crept down to the edge and drank his fill, that he might not begin to thirst sooner than need be; and just then day dawned suddenly and the warm darkness gave way to a cool light in a few moments. Immediately, because It wa day, Paraka stretched herself on the sand and then sat up; and when she saw what the traveler was doing she also went and drank as much as she could swallow, for she had understood why he was drinking as soon as she saw that the pool was nearly dry. When she could drink no more she looked up at the rocks high overhead, and they were already white and red and yellow In the light of the risen sun; for tn that country there Is no very long time between dark night and broad day. , Paraka sat down again, on the spot where she had slept, but she said nothing. The man was trying to dig a little hole In the wet sand with his hands, beyond the water that was still left, for perhaps he thought that if he could make a pit on one side, some water would stay in it; but the sand ran together as soon as he moved It; and presently, as he bent over, he felt that he was sinking Into It himself, and understood that it was a sort of quicksand that would suck him down. He therefore threw himself flat on his back, stretching out his arms and legs, and, making movements as if he were swimming, he worked his way from theViangerous place till he was safe on the firm white beach again. Ho sat up then and bent his head till his forehead pressed on his hands, and he shut his eyes to keep out the light of day. He had not slept, as Paraka had, but he was not sleepy; perhaps he would not be able to sleep again before the end come. Paraka watched him quietly, for she understood that he despaired of life, and she wondered what he would do; and, besides, ho seemed to her the most beautiful man in the world, and she loved Mm, and she was going to die with him. It comforted her to think that no other woman could get him now. It was almost worth while to die for that nloue; for she Could not have borne that another woman should have him since lie despised her. and if it had come to pass she would have tried to kill that other, put there was no danger of such a thing now; and he would die first, and she would kiss him many times when he wns dead,' and then she would die also. The pool was all gone by thin tin t ' . ' mm It,, ' 'A ''r Leaving a Funnel-Shape- Hollow d hollow in leaving a funnel-shappethe sand where it bad been. If any water still leaked ttrough from without it lost Itself under the sand, and the man and the girl were at the bottom of a great natural well that was quite dry. Paraka looked up, and she saw a vulture sitting In the sun on a pinnacle, 300 feet above her head. He would sit there till she was dead, for he knew what was coming; then he would spread his wings a little and let himself down awkwardly, and Wbenv had finished, he would sit and look at her bones and doze, till be was able to fly away. The hours passed, and the sun rose higher in the sky and struck deeper Into the shady well, till he was almost overhead, and there was scarcely any shadow left. It became very hot and stifling, because the passage through which the air had entered with the water was shut up. Then the traveler took oil his loose jacket, and opened his flannel shirt at the neck, and turned up his sleeves for coolness, and he crept backwards into the, hollow where the ruby mine was, to shelter himself from the sun. Put Paraka edged away to the very foot of the cliff, where there remained a belt of shade, even at noon; and as she sat thore she took the hem of her one garment in ber hands and slowly fanned her little feet. Neither he nor she had spoken for many hours, and she could see that in the recess of the rock he was sitting as before, with his forehead against his hands that were clasped on his knees. In the attitude and bearing of despair. , He began to be athlrst now, in the heat. If he had not known that there wns no water he could easily have done without It through a long day, but knowledge that there was none, and that he was never to drink again, parched his life and his throat and his tongue till it felt like a dried flg In his mouth. He did not feel hunger, and indued he had a little food In a wallet he carried; hut be could not have cat-e- n without wattr, and It did not occur to him that Paraka might be hungry. Perhaps, even if he had known that she was, he would not have given her of what he had; he would have kept It for himself. What was the life of a l wild compared with his? Put the vulture was. watching him, as well as Haraka, and would not move from Its pinnacle till the end, though days might pass. Paraka was not thirsty yet, because she had drunk her fill In the morning, and wns not used to drink often: it was enough that she could look at the man she loved, for the end would come soon enough without thinking about It. All day long tho traveler crouched In the hollow of the ruby cove, and Paraka watched him trom her place; when It grew dark the vulture on the pinnacle of rock thrust it ugly hend unde r Its ulng. A.i soon as Paraka conld not see any more she curled herself up on the white snnd like a little wild animal and went to sleep, though she was thirsty. It was dawn when she awoke, and her linen garment was damp with the dew, so that the "much of it refn shed lu r. The traveler had come out and was lying prone on the sand, his face burled against his arm, as soldiers sleep in a bivouac. She could not tell whether he was asleep or not. but slu knew that he could not see her, and half-flyin- hill-gir- I j In i I the Sand. she cautiously sucked ,the dew from her garment, draw ing it up to her mouth and squeezing it between her lips. It was little enough refreshment, but it was something, and she was not afraid, which made a difference. Just as she had drawn the edge of her shift down and round her ankles again, the man turned on his side suddenly, and then rose to his feet. For an instant he glared at her, and she saw that his blue eyes were bloodshot and burning; then he picked up the heavy camel bag, and began to make his way round what hail been the beach of the pool, towards the passage through which they bad entered, and which was now a dry cave, wide below, narrow at the top, and between six or seven feet high. He trod carefully and tried his way, for he feared the quicksand, but he knew that there was none in the passage, since he had walked through the water and had felt the way hard under his feet. In a few moments he disappeared under the rock. Paraka knew what be meant to do; he was going to try to dig through the dam at the entrance to let the water in, even If he could not get out; but hbe did not move, for in that narrow place and in the dark she could not have helped him. She sat and waited By and by he would come out, drenched with sweat and yet parching with thirst, and he would glare at her hor rlbly again; perhaps he would be mad w hen he came out and would kill her because she had brought him there. After some time she heard a very faint sound overhead, and when she looked up the vulture was gone from bis pinnacle. She wondered at this, and her eyes searched every point ami crevice of the rock as far as she could see, for she knew that the evil bird could only have been frightened away; and though it fears neither bird nor beast, but only man, she could not believe that any human being could And a foothold near to where it had perched. For some seconds, perhaps for a whole minute, she saw nothing, though she gazed, up steadily, then she saw that a small patch of snowy white was moving sliowly on the face of the cliff, at some distance above the place where the vulture had been. She bent her brows In the effort to see more by straining her sight, and meanwhile the patch descended faster than It seemed possible that a man could climb down that perilous steep. Yet it was a man, she knew from the first, and soon she saw him plainly, in his loose shirt and white turban, and with a lou gun slung across his back. Nearer still, and he was down to tho jutting pinnacle where the vulture had sat, and she saw his black beard; still nearer by a few feet and she knew him, and tin n her glance darted to the mouth of the cave, at the other end of which lite man she loved was toiling desperately alone in the dark to pierce the dam of earth and stones. It was only a glance, In a second of titne, but when she looked up the black-beareman had already made another step downwards. Paraka measured the distance. If he spoke loud now she could understand him. She knew him well, and she knew why he had come, with his long gun. He was her father's brother's son, to whom she was betrothed; he wns Sand, and he was risking his life to ''oiiio down and kill her and the man "I Ti T I ii r n n r n i rn it ...n .m.,. n ij get lng sand, where It struck head first, rolled ' over and lay motionless In a heap The traveler's was a Mauser pistol I' that would have killed as surely aw 500 yards as 50; and the bullet bad! f gone through the Tartar's brain. Paraka sprang up the sandy slopef and ran along the narrow beach to tbt body. In an instant she had detached, the large brown water-gourfrom the f thong by which be It had hung overt Saad's shoulder, and Bhe felt that it! was full. Without a thought for her' self she hastened back to the moubV of the cave where the traveler waT, now standing. His face was dripping? with perspiration that ran down Into his matted golden beard, his eyes were wild, his hands were bleeding. "Drink!" cried Paraka joyfully, and ; she gave him the gourd. He gripped it as a greedy dog snapi at a bit of meat, and pulling out the ', wooden plug he set the gourd to bit lips, wivh an expression of beatitude. Put he was an old traveler and only drank a little, knowing that his life might depend on making the small supply last. A gourd of water wai worth more than many rubles Just' whom she had led to the ruby mines for love's sake. He would come down till he was within easy range, and then lie would wait till he had a fair chance at them, when they were standing still, and she knew that he was a dead shot. The traveler's revolver could never carry as far as the long gun, Paraka was sure, and Saad could come quite near with safety, since he seemed able to climb down the face of a fiat rock where there was not foothold for a cat. He was still descending, he was getting very near; If the traveler were not warned he might come out of the cave unsuspiciously and Saad would shoot him. Saad would wish to shoot him first, because of his revolver, and then he would kill Daraka at his leisure. If he fired at her first the traveler would have a chance at him while he was reloading his old gun. She understood why he had not killed her ,yet, if Indeed he wanted to, for It was barely possible that he loved her enough to take her alive. After hesitating for a few moments, not from fear but in doubt, she gathered herself to spring, and made a dash like an antelope along the sand for the mouth of the cave, for she knew that Saad would not risk wasting his shot on her while she was run ning. She stopped just under the shelter cf the rock and called inward: "Saad is coming down the rock with his gun!" she cried. "Load your weapon!" When the had given this warning Bhe went out again and stood before the mouth of the cave with her back to it. Saad was on the rock, not 50 feet above the ground, at the other side of the natural wall, but looked as if even he could get no farther down. He was standing with both his heels on a ledge so narrow that more than half the length of his brown feet stood over it; he was leaning back, flat against the sloping cliff, and he had his gun before him, for he was just able to use both his hands without falling. He pointed the gun at her and spoke: "Where Is the man?" "He Is dead," Paraka answered without hesitation. "Dead? Already?" ' "I killed him in his sleep," she said, "and I dragged his body into the cave for fear of the vulture, and burled it in the sand. Pe not angry, Saad, though he was my father's guest. Come down hither and I will tell all. Then you shall shoot me or take me home to be your wife, as you will, for I am quite Innocent." She meant to entice him within range of the stranger's weapon. "There is no foothold whereby to get lower," he answered, but he rested the stock of his gun on the narrow ledge behind him. "Drag out the man's body, that I may see it." "I tell you I buried it. I killed him the night before last; I cannot dig him up now." "Why did you run to the mouth of the cave when you saw me, if the man is dead?" "Pecause at first I was afraid you would shoot me from above, therefore I took shelter." "Why did you come out again, if you were In fear?" "After I had run In I was ashamed, for I felt sure that you would not kill me without hearing the truth. So 1 came out to speak with you. Get down, and I will show you the man's grave." "Have I. wings? I cannot come down. It is impossible." Paraka felt a puff of hot air pass her, just above her right ankle, and at the same instant she heard a sharp report, not very loud, and more like the snapping of a strong but .very dry stick than the explosion of firearms. She instinctively sprang to the left, keeping her eyes on Saad. For a moment he did not move. Rut ho was already dead ns he slowly bent forward from the rock, making a deep obeisance with both arms hanging down before him, so that his body shot down perpendicularly to the tra oei tra Alt spi fro wh eni ter d ot 1 ..sie has mi the "1 h: of the urn ? the we cal the he ha an on tht the j en "Are you very thirsty yet?" he aet asked in a harsh voice. "No," answered Paraka bravely;; tOr "keep it for yourself." lar Ills hand closed round the neck ot V'tei the gourd and he looked up towards th the rocks above. The vulture had tot come back and was circling slowly, Pu down. &k "You had better bury the body,' arc while I go on working," said the trav- be! eler, turning back into the cave and J op taking the gourd with him. Paraka had marked the place where , ,rai de: he had tried to dig for water and had re: almost disappeared In the quicksand.! an She took from the body the wallet, In an which were dates and some half-drI 801 bread, and then dragged and pushed ; and rolled the dead man from the ': ed mt place where he had fallen. The vulture sat on the lowest ledge where ? ,tle 'Ar his claws could find a hold, and Po though he watched her with horrible fie red eyes while she robbed him of his n prey, he did not dare go nearer. The body sank into the moving! Sh sand, and Daraka had to roll herself, pe back to firmer ground In haste to e I hli Id: cape being swallowed up with the dead man. The last she saw of him was one Drown root sticking up. II 'iWI sank slowly out of Bight, and then she tir went to the hollow where the ruby i mine was and took up a piece of the broken crust, full of precious stones, and threw it at the vulture as hard ai (tie she could. It did not hit him. but he ( x at once tumbled off the ledge into the pa H air, opened nis queer, Bedraggled wings and struck upwards. "s: Then Paraka sat down in the shade CP and slowly brushed away the dry sand wl that had got into the folds of her linda en garment, and looked steadily at the mouth of tho cave and tried not to pu realize that her throat was narched ta! and her Hps almost cracking with th a uiiisi, iiiiu. umi me iraveier nau i gourd almost full of water with him un For she loved him, and was willing tt Gc die that he might live a little longer; pr besides, if he succeeded In digging nil ot; te be would there way out, plenty te drink, and when he was free she wai In; sure that he would love her because th so him made rich. she had r The sun rose higher and at last shone down to the bottom of the ha chasm, and she sat in the narrow strir th of shade, where she had passed most lo of the previous day. She was verj iz. tiredi and and feverish, felt thirsty tl and wished Bhe could sleep, but could of not. Still the traveler tolled in the di darkness, and from time to time she a heard Bounds from far away as ot stones and loose earth falling. He wai be still working hard, for he was verj ar was and he strong desperate. er Paraka thought that If be was able Ni to dig through the dam the watei re would run in again, and she watched si the sand for hours, but It was drlei St than ever. The shadow broadened to again, and crept up the rock quickly th as the afternoon passed. then. i - X jj ve (TO BK CONTINUED.) di or ve wi di th re ar Look Well to the Kitchen Writer Houston Post Comes with Variations on Old Theme of "Feeding the Brute." In Tor-war- ' de in ol locomotive to a train. If things go there's the wrong in the engine-room- , devil to pay. If the locomotive is out of fix, the train must be switched to the siding. If the kitchen Is not com petently and efficiently conducted the old man will fly off at a tangent and possibly swear whore tho childreu can near him. Moreover, he Is apt to find excuses to eat down town where pretd ty' girls with white, aprons, dimples, ribbons and thing do tho hash slinging. Houston Post. ji - at m ft! There is a great deal in the old say that tho way to a man's heart i through his stomach. If ho Isn't well fed he is going to givo trouble. Feed tho old brute well and let him smoke In the house and he will be as tamo ns the family horse, but be careless about his feed and he Is apt to swear and cut up like a balky isiib. Therefore, It Is wise for every girl to look Would Cut a Splurge. well to her kitchen education. It Is "If." says tho Alfalfa Sage, "I ever true that man Is hooked In tho par lor, hut It is the kitchen that enables i'lecome wealthy the first thlni? I will do will be to purchase the biggest you to hold him. A kitchen is to tho home what th touring car in town, and the second ii i tie room is to ft' power plant or r thing will bo to purchase two more." Ing M ae cn fo le th fluffy-fringe- he 7 CO la ' gr l L |