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Show THE UINTAH BASIN FARMER ((c) by tihurt Sioiy Pub. Cu ) were the gray depths that and mysterious the cliffs ragged edge. Above was the dear, calm, in-- f terminable blue. Cuma Ventura i crouched in the warm sand, leaning ; her head against the rough rock at her side. Behind her were thick short cactus bushes growing in scattered clumps and buck of these the sides of i the mountain rose, steep, jagged and barren. The rock was warm against her cheek though the sun was an hour " below the Gauduloupe peaks and the cactus shadows were growing darker i on the long slopes. The air seemed i heavy with silence. No bird sang. A vinegerone slipped under a stone at the edge of the cliff. The girl sat quietly her head bowed. I The ; heavy, dark braids were hound with hands of glittering heads. Away in the distance sounded Jhe faint i tinkle of sheep-hell- s and the dull hnrk-!- . lug of a dog. At these sounds the girl j raised her head. She snatched from her neck a small round locket, stared at the trinket a moment as it lay in ; her hand, and then flung it over the cliff Into the chasm below. Her slim s brown face was flushed ; her eyes were were no but with there large pain t tears In them So It meant not anything to him The not ; anything." she muttered. truth wfts slowly becoming real to t her and it came with the weight of death Itself. It was hard to believe 1? after the beautiful dreams, so hard. There would be nothing more to he I happy about. She would have to mur-- ! ry Tetro ns her father wished. Duro, i her pony, and the new saddle would be his. lie would heat the little Duro and her, too, he would heat her of course when he was Jealous and ; angry. ,5 At the thought of the ugly Mexican suitor her face broke into quick angry frowns. She pulled her long braids i over her shoulders. Pierre had patted them once as she rode beside him and she had blushed foolLhly. She hated herself for those blushes. And when his hund hud chanced to touch hers on the addle-horor when he had leaned over her, helping her to read the English books, she had trembled t with a nev and delicious Joy. She had taught him to( know the and the mountains. He was desert ' ; often reckless In his ignorance. Once ' with her lips she had drawn the blood from a ruttlesnake bite on his arm I and Pierre had called her n brave lit-- J tie nurse. They had ridden for hours, ' for days together under the open sky. j Ofteu they had sat here among tho rocks before the cliff He had called It the edge of the world." Once when she stood very nenr the perilous brink, he had caught her back sud-- ' denly, tenderly, and her head had rest- ed for a moment on his shoulder. To- gether they had felt the twilight come. She had listened to his talk of hts 'own people, of the cold winters, the snow, the sleighing, and the strange noisy cities. She had listened with her heart heating fast, her eyes upon his face and her ears filled with th ; music of Ids voice. They had seen the ? 'stars come Into the deep dark sky uno t had watched the blue and purple sliad- ows that ding along the "edge of the J world" after sunset. Once u raoun-- j tuln lion had crept upon them and , Pierre had shot the creature with her gun. He was careless ubout weapons himself, and often went unarmed even after nightfall. Then he haj gone away. Ills le Ur eame explaining his hasty leuvlng. Jle would come ouck soon. How she BELOW 1 ; ij ; j J ,i ? L j1 i ; . Is. n, . wept over the letter and the desolate loneliness that came with his absence. But he would come back, and she waited. She had borne her fathers scolding and Petros hateful presence, and she had been happy through it all. Now the thought of her happiness was more bitter than the memory of her misery. He had come back and It meant nothing to him. He had played with her and then cast her aside, as she would gather a yellow 'poppy in the mountains and throw it away, thirsty and helpless, on the hot sand. The girls breast heaved, her eyes glowed, little points of light scintillating in their still She knitted her low dark depths. d brows and pulled the small knife from her belt. He shall not go back, she said softly. Her fingers stole along the sharp blade, testing its keen edge, and her lips parted in a cunning smile. It was the kind of smile that often flashed across old Diegos heavy lips. Cuma had hated her father for that d smile. Once he had stabbed a because the man refused to trade ponies with him, and Cuma watched the wretch reel from his saddle, cursing. She had forgotten ihe ugiy horror of it now and remembered only the quick, soft thrust of the knife. "He shall not go, she repeated. She sprang to her feet with a swift, easy grace. She was strong and supple and closely knit. Her slender, rounded figure was as full of life as an antelope's. It was this aboundhad attracted the man ing vigor that she had grown to love. It had held him In spite of the difference in their Sometimes its grip was breeding. than the call of generations stionger of civilization and environment. She was so simply and so wholly a woman. And her mind was ready, eager to follow his. Sometimes he had wondered if she might not learn his way of life, but that was only when he had grown delirious with the sense of her. When lie weighed the matter in soberer moments he knew that this was impossible, that it would mean his coming to her level In the end. Upon, his return to the plains he had steeled his heart against her and she had felt the change in her first keen look. The desert wildness had not robbed her of the subtle intuitions of her sex. He did not see the fires of her hate. She hid them under the heavy-lasheeyelids, and she stiflled the hot pain In her breast. But the fires of her hate were burning and the pain In her breast was not dead. Twilight was creeping up the long valley and the girls figure was blurred against the dull background. He shall not go," she said again and gnzed over the edge of the cliff where the tiny gold locket had gone. Then suddenly she stood erect listening. There was the quick, soft step of padded feet among the cactus bushes, a rustle, jind a low growl that sent a chill through the girls warm veins. She sprang to her feet, flthe, quick-eyeand alert. There was no sound. It was a panthe mistaking ther.4 She felt in anticipation the sud silver-handle- half-bree- cow-punch- er d d den crushing of mouth and claws upon her, and every muscle was nerved for resistance. But the beast seemed to be parrying an assault, and she peered into the cactus jungle at her back. Through the branches of a dwarf saguara she caught sight of a long, tense body crouched close above the ground. She watched it stealthily out of the tail of her eye. It was creep e ing forward with a sneaking, movement, but it was not coming directly toward her. The girls head turned, following the animals advance, but her body was still like the stiff, motionless cactus beside her. Her fingers tightened their grip on the knife and the breath came noiselessly through her parted lips. In a flash her mind took in every detail of the situation, the yawning chasm a few feet In front of her, the ragged mountain at her back, and the crouching beast advancing stealthily over the sand. All the fierceness and cunanimal was ning of the desert-borreflected in the tense suppleness of her pose. Only one thing puzzled her, and that was the direction of the panther's advance. She was losing the yellow form in the deeper bushes at her hack. Suddenly there was a scuffling and snapping in the shadows, a mans low curse and the ripping of the panthers claws against coarse clothing. In a moment two bodies roiled struggling on the ground beside the girl. She saw the mans arms tense and knotted against the beasts shaggy breast. She saw his brown hair. Tierre, Pierre, she cried, breathlessly. He, too, had been lingering at the old trysting place. The claws were burled in the mans shoulders, the grinning mouth was reaching for his throat, but the brown arms with their rigid muscles held the creature back. The mans strength was being tested to the uttermost. His body swayed above the. brutes. His hands clutched the straining neck. They came nearer, almost against the girl's feet. She saw the mans arms bloody with cuts nnd scratches, his face white, his teeth set; she could hear his hoarse breathing. As they turned toward her she plunged the knife into the panthers taut, yellow cat-lik- n throat. The angered beast whirled about suddenly, dropped the mans shoulders and sprung upon his new enemy. The girl crumpled under his weight, the knife fell, her hands clutched blindly at the open jaws. The man The panther Jumped to his feet. forward the against girls body leaped nnd the two, struggling together, lurched over the eliffs edge and disappeared. The man flung himself on the ground and calling wildly, leaned far over the inscrutable depths. But the girl did net answer. Her last glimpse of the world was a confused blur, the Jagged cliffs edge nnd the skys dull crimson whirling: madly, and then the blue and purple depths rushing upward ns her feet left the earth. And on the sand at the rooks knife lay dusty edge the and silver-handle- d blood-staine- , ' ) i J Homing Pigeons Not Guided by Instinct It is popular'y believed that a hom- ing pigeon is able to find Its way home from any distance merely by exercising this mysterious something called Instinct. Nothing could be farther from the truth. A young pigeon might love his home better than Ills life, but he could no more find his way back to his loft from a distance of fiOO miles, If before being taken to that point he hud not learned some Inter ening landmarks, than could an aviator, without perfect mechanical and maps, find his way from New York to Snn Francisco. Homing pigeons return to their lofts, says Jack ODonnell, In the Saturday Evening Post, primarily becuuse their loft represents love, food, warmth, kindness and comfort. Its home and they ure homing pigeons. Mr. ODonnell cites instances to prove thut It Is memory and knowledge of the country, rather than instinct, that tukes the birds back to their homes. IMPUDENT She approached the post office win- dow belligerently. Ive been expecting a package conmedicine for a week, and taining havent received It yet. Yes, madam, replied tb- - post office clerk. Kindly fill in this form and state the nature of your complaint. Well, its no business of yours hut if you really must know, its rheumatism. I get it very bad across my shoulders." Minneapolis Tribune. Loved. Too Many Hodge Not married yet? Tomkins No. But I thought yon had serious intentions in a certain direction?" I did have, but the evening I went to propose to her, before I got a chance, she told me she loved Browning, and Kipling, and Shelley. Now, What chance did I have with a girl Who was in love with three other A Reciprocity What is your opinion of the European situation? I decline to say, answered Senator Sorghum. "People in Europe used to say they couldn't understand Amori an politics. I now consider it my privilege to admit that I cant understand European politics. Little Choice Since you are discontented, why iont you sell your farm and move to the city?" Tve heard about them prices for hits,, answered Fanner Corntossel. I'd rather go on bein discontented ban take .. chance on pluin Washington Star. hr-i- des-erat- e. COMPARING FIGURES Mrs. Homebody Did you liave any experiences In Europe? one. An Ponderosa Y'es, me told he Eyetalian guide Judged from my figger Hint Id weigh ubout e ihe same as a marble statue of Venus that lie showed us. interesting Mrs. life-siz- Her Face Not Her Fortune know a gal lias cash to burn. But 1 cnnt love A fane like hern. I The Prescription Daughter What did the specialist nuntles frightful attack of my ubout Grew some Relic The finger of Galileo is shown under a glass case In the Florence museum. It stands, a mysterious-lookinhit of parchment, pointing towards heaven. The band to which It belonged is supposed to have been put to the torture by 'the Inquisition for ascribing motion to the earth, and the finger is now almost worshiped for having proved the motion. g kleptomania? Mother He said she must takt things more quietly in the future. Daily Dialogue Topay What women nre working for is economic Independence financial freedom. Turvy Theyd better be getting pockets back again, then, hadnt they! |