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Show "Of course, of course," Bald Stephen Maltland, "you are your own mistress anyway, and having no mother " Enid's mother had died In her Infancy In-fancy "I suppose that I could not Interfere In-terfere or object If I wished to, but no marrying or giving In marriage. Remember that." "Nonsense, father," answered the young woman lightly. "I am not anxious anx-ious to assume the bonds of wedlock." wed-lock." "Well, that settles it," said Robert Maltland. "We'll give you a royal good time. I must run up to New York and Boston for a few days, but I shall be baok In a week and i can pick you up then." "What Is the house In Denver; Is tt er may I ask, provided with all modern mod-ern conveniences and " began the elder Maltland nervously. Robert Maltland laughed. "What do you take us for, Steve; do you ever read the western newspapers?" news-papers?" "I confess that I have not given much thought to the west since I studied geography and the Philadelphia Philadel-phia papers have been thought sufficient suffi-cient for the family since " "Good Lord," exclaimed Maltland. "The house cost half a million dollars, dol-lars, If you must know It, and if there been suddenly made aware of her dress, if she had burst Into the drawing-room without announcement, for instance. Her skirt was distinctly shot, she wore heavy hob-nailed shoes that laced up to her knees, she had on a bright blue sweater, a kind of a cap known as a tam-o-Bhanter was pinned above her glorious hair, which was cloBely braided and wound around her head. She wore a silk handkerchief loosely tied around her neck, a knife and revolver hung at her belt, a little watch was strapped to one wrist, a handsomely braided quirt dangled from the other, a pair of spurs adorned her heels and most discomposing fact of all, by her side rode a handsome and dashing cavalier. cava-lier. How Mr. James Armstrong might have appeared in the conventional black and white of evening clothes was not quite clear to her, for she had as yet never beheld him in that obliterating raiment, but In the habit of the west, riding trousers, heavy boots that laced to the knees, blue shirt, his head covered by a noble "Stetson," mounted on the flry restive broncho which he rode to perfection, he was ideal. Alas for the vanity or human proposition! Mr. James Armstrong, Arm-strong, friend and protege these many years of Mr. Robert Maltland, mine owner and cattle man on a much smaller scale than his older friend, was desperately In love with Enid Maltland, and Enid, swept off her feet by a wooing which began with precipitant pre-cipitant ardor so soon as he laid eyes on her, was more profoundly moved by his suit, or pursuit, than she could have imagined. Omne ignotum pre magnified She had been wooed in the conventional conven-tional fashion many times and oft on the sands of Palm Beach, along the cliffs of Newport, In the romantic glens of Mount Desert, In the old-fashioned drawing-room overlooking Rittenhouse Square. She had been proposed to In motor cars, on the decks of yachts and once even while riding to hounds, but there had been a touch of sameness same-ness about it all. Never had she been made love to with the headlong gallantry, gal-lantry, with the dashing precipitation of the west. It had swept her from her moorings. She found almost before be-fore she was aware of it that her past experience now stood her In little stead. She awoke to a sudden realization realiza-tion of the fact that she was practically practical-ly pledged to James Armstrong after an acquaintance of three weeks in Denver and on the ranch. Business of the most important and critical nature demanded Arm- 1 strong's presence east at this juncture, and will-he-nill-he there was no way he could put off his departure longer. 1 He had to leave the girl with an uneasy un-easy conscience that, though he had her half way promise, he had her but half way won. He had snatched the ultimate day from his business de mand to ride with her on the Brsl stage of her journey to the mountains. CHAPTER II. The Game Played In the Usual Way. The road on which they advanced. Into the mountains was well made and well kept up. The canon through the foothills was not very deep for Colorado and the ascent was gentle. Naturally it wound in every direction, following the devious course of the river which it frequently crossed from one side to the other on rude log bridges. A brisk gallop of half a mile or so on a convenient stretch of comparatively com-paratively level going put the two in the lead far ahead of the lumbering wagon and out of sight of those otherB of the party who had elected to go a horseback. There was perhaps a tacit agreement among the latter not to break in upon this growing friendship, or, more frankly, not to Interfere in a developing love affair. The canon broadened here and there at long intervals and ranch houses were found in every clearing, but these were few and far between and for the most part Armstrong and Enid Maltland rode practically alone save for the passage of an occasional lumber wagon. "You can't think," began the man, as they drew rein after a splendid gallop and the somewhat tired horses, readily subsided into a walk, "how I hate to go back and leave you." "And you can't think how loath 1 am to have you return," the girl flashed-out flashed-out at him with a sidelong glance from her bright blue eyes and a witching smile from her scarlet lips. "Enid Maltland," said the man, "you know I jus,t worship you. I'd like to sweep you out of your saddle, lift you to the bow. of mine and ride away with you. I can't keep my handt off you, I " Before she realized what he would be about he swerved his horse toward her, his arm went around her suddenly. sud-denly. Taken completely off her guard she could make no resistance, Indeed she scarcely knew what to expect until un-til he crushed her to him and kissed her, almost roughly, full on the lips. "How dare you," cried the girl, net face aflame, freeing herself at last, and swinging her own horse almost to the edge of the road which here ran on an excavation some fifty feet above the river. "How dare IT" laughed the audacious auda-cious man, apparently no whit abashed by her indignation. "When I think of my opportunity I am amazed at my moderation." "Your opportunity; your moderation?" modera-tion?" "Yes, when I had you helpless I took but one kiss; 1 might have held you longer and taken a hundred." (TO BE CONTINUED.) 1 CHAPTER I. Tho Younfl Lady From Philadelphia. Miss Enid Maltland was a highly gjieclallzed product of the far east. I ay far, viewing Colorado as a point of departure, not as identifying her with the orient. The classic shades of Bryn Mawr had been the "Groves of AcadeniBS where with old Plato Bhe had walked." Incidentally during her completion of tha exhaustive curriculum cur-riculum of that Justly famous Institution Institu-tion she had acquired at least a bowing bow-ing acquaintance with other masters of the mind. Nor had the physical In her education educa-tion been sacrificed to the mental. In her at least the mens sana and the corpore sano were alike In evidence. She had ridden to hounds many times an the anise-scented trail of the West Chester Hunt! Exciting tennis and leisurely golf had engaged her attention atten-tion on the courts and greens of the Merlon Cricket club. She had buffeted "Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste" on the beach at Cape May and at Atlantic City. Spiritually she was a devoted member mem-ber of the Episcopal church, or the variety that abhors the word "Protes-ant" "Protes-ant" In connection therewith. Altogether Alto-gether she reflected great credit upon her pastors and masters spiritual and temporal and her up bringing in the three departments of life left little to be desired. i Upon ker graduation she had been at once received and acclaimed by the "Assembly Set" of Philadelphia, to which indeed she belonged unquestioned unques-tioned by right of birth and position and there was no other power under heaven by which she could have effected ef-fected entrance therein, at least that is what the outs thought of that most exclusive circle. The old home of the Maltlands overlooking over-looking Rittenhouse Square had been ttie scene of her debut. In all the refined and decorous gaities of Philadelphia's ultra-fastidious society she had participated. She had even looked upon money standardized New York in Its delirium of extravagance, at least in so far as a sedate and wellborn well-born Philadelphia family could countenance coun-tenance such golden madness. During the year she had ranged like a con-querer con-querer pardon the masculine appellation appella-tion betweeu Palm Beach in the eoutb and Bar Harbor in the north. w Philadelphia was proud of her, and she was not unknown in those unfortunate un-fortunate parts of the United States which lay without In all this she had remained a frank, free, unspoiled young woman. Life was full of zest for her, and she enjoyed en-joyed it with the most un-Pennsylva-nian enthusiasm. Tha second Bummer after her coming com-ing out found her In Colorado. Robert Maltland was one of the big men of the west. He had departed from Philadelphia Phil-adelphia at an early age and had Bet-tied Bet-tied la Colorado while it was still In the formative period. There he had grown up with the state. The Philadelphia Phil-adelphia Maltlands could never under stand It or explain It. Bob Maltland must have been, they argued, a reversion rever-sion to an ancient type, a throwback to some robber baron long antecedent to William Penn. And the speculation was true. The blood of some lawless adventurer of the past, discreetly forgot for-got by the conservative section of the family, bubbled In his veins unchecked by the repressive atmosphere of his home and immediate environment. He had thoroughly identified himself him-self with his new surroundings and had plunged into all the activities of the west During one period of his life he had actually served as sheriff of one of the border counties, and it was a rapid "bad man" indeed, who enjoyed any advantage over him when it came to drawing his "gun." His skill and daring had been unquestioned, unques-tioned, he had made a name for himself him-self which still abides, especially In the mountains where things yet remained re-mained almost as primitive as they had been from the beginning. His fame had been accompanied by fortune, too; the cattle upon a thousand thou-sand hills were his, the treasures of mines of fabulous richness were at his command. He lived in Denver In one of the greatest of the bonanza palaces on the hills of that city, confronting con-fronting the snow-capped mountain range. For the rest he held stock in all sorts of corporations, was a director di-rector in numerous concerns and so on the reader can supply the usual catalogue, they are all alike. He had married late in life and was the father of two little girls and a boy, the oldest old-est sixteen and the youngest ten. Going east, which he did not love, on an infrequent business trip, he had renewed his acquaintance with his brother and the one ewe lamb of his brother's flock, to-wlt, the aforementioned afore-mentioned Enid. He had been struck, as everybody was, by the splendid personality of the girl and had striven earnestly to disabuse her mind of the prevalent idea that there was nothing much worth while on the continent beyond the Allegheny except scenery. "What you need, Enid, is a ride across the plains, a sight of real mountains, moun-tains, beside which these little foothills foot-hills in Pennsylvania that people back here make so much of wouldn't be noticed. You want to get some of the spirited, glorious freedom of the west into your conservative stralght-laced little body." "In my day, Robert," reprovingly remarked re-marked his brother, Enid's father, "freedom was the last thing a young lady gently born and delicately nurtured would have cdveted." "Your day is passed,. Steve," returned re-turned the younger Maltland with shocking carelessness. "Freedom is what every woman desires now, especially espe-cially when she Is married. You ara ', not in love with anybody, are you, Enid?" "With not a soul," frankly replied i the girl, greatly amused at the col-1 col-1 loquy between the two men, who, - though mothered by the same woman, - were as dissimilar as what shall I t i. n "i r .i ii-i rr-rif -... ' .r say, the east is from the west? Let It go at that. "That's all right," said her uncle, relieved apparently. "I will take you out west and Introduce you to some real men and " "If I thought it possible," interposed Mr. Stephen Maltland In his most austere and dignified manner, "that my daughter," with a perceptible emphasis em-phasis on the "my," as If he and not the daughter were the principal being under consideration, "should ever bo far forget what belongs to her Btation in life and her family as to allow her affections to become engaged by anyone any-one who, from his birth and upbringing upbring-ing in the er oh unlicensed atmosphere atmos-phere of the western country would be persona nbn grata to dignified society so-ciety of this ancient city and" "Nonsense," Interrupted the younger young-er brother bluntly. "You have lived here wrapped up in yourselves and your dinky little town so long that mental asphyxiation , ia threatening you." "I will thank you, Robert," Bald his brother with something approaching the manner in which he would have repelled a blasphemy, "not to refer to Philadelphia as er what was your most extraordinary word?" " 'Dinky,' if my recollection serves." "Ah, precisely. I am not sure as to the meaning of the term, but I conceive It to be something opprobrious. opprobri-ous. You can say what you like about me and mine, but of Philadelphia, no." "Oh, the town's right enough," returned re-turned his brother, not at all impressed. im-pressed. "I'm talking about people now. There are just as fine men and women in the west as in New York or Philadelphia." "I am sure you don't mean to be offensive, Robert, but really the association asso-ciation of ideas in your mention of us with that common and vulgar New Yor Is erun pleasant," fairly shud-derud shud-derud the elder Maltland. "Jni only urging you to recognize the quality of the western people. I dar 5jy they are of a finer type than the average here." "Kn;m your standpoint, no doubt," con;in-ied his brother severely and somewhat wearily as If the matter werw XiDt worth all this argument. "All that ! want of them is that they stay In the yest where they belong and not strl'se 6 mingle with the east; there is a jarrler between us and them which it is not well to cross. To permit per-mit ajay Intermixtures of er race or" 'The people out there are white, Stev," interrupted his brother sardonically. sar-donically. "I wasn't contemplating introducing in-troducing Enid here to Chinese, or negrooa, or Indians, or " "Dun't you see," said Mr. Stephen MaitUma, stubbornly waving aside this sarcastic and irrelevent comment, com-ment, "from your very conversation the vast gulf that there Is between you and me? Although you had every advantage In life that birth can give you, wo are I mean you have changed so greatly," he had quickly added, loathe to offend. But he mistook the light in his brother's eyes; it was a twinkle, not a flash. Robert Maltland laughed, laughed with what his brother conceived con-ceived to be indecorous boisterous-ness. boisterous-ness. "How little you know of the bona and sinew of this country, Steve," he exclaimed presently. Robert Maltland could not comprehend how It irritated his stately brother to be called "Steve." Nobody ever spoke of him but as Stephen Maltland. "But Lord, I don't blame you," continued the westerner. "Any man whose vision is barred by a foothill couldn't be expected ex-pected to know much of the main range and what's beyond." "There Isn't any danger of my falling fall-ing in love with anybody," said Enid at last, with all the confidence of two triumphant social seasons. "I think I must be immune even to dukes," she said gaily. "I referred to worthy young Americans Amer-icans of " began her father who, to do him Justice, was so satisfied with his own position that no foreign title dazzled him In the least degree. "Rittenhouse Square," cut in Rob-I Rob-I ert Maltland with amused sarcasm. "Well, Enid, you seem to have run I the gamut of the east pretty thor-j thor-j oughly; come out and spend the sum-i sum-i mer with me in Colorado. My Denver house is open to you; we have a ranch amid the foothills, or IT you are game we can break away from civilization entirely and find some unexplored, unknown un-known canon in the heart of the moun- tains and camp there. We'll get back to nature, which seems to be impossible impos-sible in Philadelphia, and you will see things and learn things that you will never see or learn anywhere else. It'll do you good, too; from what I hear, you have been going the pace and those cheeks or yours are a tittle too pale for so splendid a girl; you look too tired under the eyes for youth and beauty." "1 believe 1 am not very tit," said the girl, "and if father will permit" He Crushed Her to Him and Kissed Her. la anything thatmodern science can contribute to comfort and luxury that Isn't in it, I don't know what it is. Shall it be the house in Denver, or the ranch, or a real camp In the wilds, Enid?" "First the house In Denver," said Enid, "and then the ranch and then the mountains." "Right-O; that shall be th program." pro-gram." win mv rlauehter's life be perfect- DC WMIWI W ! slpv IF- k ffl I M l'S ' !y Bafe from the cowboys, Indians and desperadoes?" "Quite safe," answered Robert, with deep gravity. "The cowboys no longer shoot up the city and it has been years since the Indians have held up even a trolley car. The only real desperado in my acquaintance Is the mildest gen- ' tie old stage driver in the west." "Do you keep up an acquaintance with men of that class still?" asked his brother in great surprise. "You know I was sheriff In a border bor-der county for a number of years and " "But you must surely have withdrawn with-drawn from all such society now." "Out west," said Robert Maltland, "when we know a man and like him, when we have slept by him on the plains, ridden with him through the mountains, fought with him against some border terror, some bad man thirsting to kill, we don't forget him, we don't cut his acquaintance, and It doesn't make any difference whether the one or the other of us is rich or poor. I have friends who can't frame a grammatical sentence, who habitually habitual-ly eat with their knives, yet who are absolutely devoted to me and I to them. The man Is the thing out there." He smiled and turned to Enid. "Always excepting the supremacy su-premacy of woman," he added. "How fascinating," exclaimed the girl. "I want to go there right away."i And this was the train of events which wrought the change. Behold the young lady astride of a horse for the first time In her life in a divided skirt, that fashion prevalent elsewhere not having been accepted by the best equestriennes of Philadelphia. She was riding ahead of a lumbering mountain moun-tain wagon surrounded by other riders, rid-ers, which was loaded with baggage, drawn by four sturdy broncos and followed fol-lowed by a number of obstinate little burros at present unincumbered with packs which would be used when they got further from civilization and the way was no longer practicable for anything any-thing on wheels. Miss Enid Maltland was clad In a way that would have caused her tsther a stroke of apoplexy If ha could havo Mr. Jame. Arm.trong Wa, Desperately In Love With Enltf M,M..',d. "Your Day Ha Passed, 6teve," Returned the Younger Maltland. |