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> WESTERN
(Continued from last week).
SYNOPSIS
R L—Arriving at the lonely
railroad station of El Cajon, New
Madeline Hammond, New York
finds no one to meet her. While in
walting room a drunken cowboy en-
she is married, and departs,
ving her terrified, He returns with a
est, who goes through some sort of
ony. and the cowboy forces her to
Asking her name and learning
identity the cowboy seems dazed. In
shoo scrape outside the room a
can killed. The cowboy lets a
» “Bonita,” take his horse and escape,
conducts Madeline to Florence
y, friend of her brother.
CHAPTER Il.—Florence welcomes her,
her story, and dismisses the cow-
y, Gene Stewart, Next day Alfred
ond, Madeline's brother, takes
wart to task. Madeline exonerates
of any wrong intent.
CHAPTER IIl.—Alfred, scion of a
Fouty family, had been dismissed from
home because of his dissipation.
deline sees that the West has re-
ed him. She meets Stillwell, Al's
employer, typical western ranchman.
Madeline learns Stewart has gone over
the border.
CHAPTER IV.—Danny Mains, one of
Stillwell's cowboys, has disappeared,
with some of Stillwell’'s money. His
Siena link his name with the girl Bo-
CHAPTER V.—Madeline gets a glimpse
ef life on a western ranch,
CHAPTER VI1.—Stewart’s horse comes
$0 the ranch with a note on the saddle
aacing Madeline to accept the beautiful
With her brother's consent she
does go, naming him ‘Majesty,” her own
pet nickname. Madeline, inde yendently
rich, arranges to buy Stillwell’'s ranch
od that of Don Carlos, a Mexican neigh-
CHAPTER VII.—Madeline feels she
has found her right place, under the light
of the western stars.
CHAPTER VIII.—Learning Stewart had
been hurt in a brawl at Chiricahua, and
knowing her brother's fondness for him,
Madeline visits him and persuades him to
oome to the ranch as the boss of her
ys.
CHAPTER IX.—Jim Nels, Nick Steele
and “Monty” Price are Madeline's chief
riders. They have a feud with Don Car-
los’ vaqueros, who are really guerrillas.
Madeline pledges Stewart to see that
peace is kept
CHAPTER X.—Madeline and Florence,
geturning home from Alfred’s ranch, run
into an ambush of vaqueros. Florence,
knowing the Mexicans are after Made-
line, decoys them away, and Madeline
gets home safely but alone,
CHAPTER XI.—A raiding guerrilla
band carries off Madeline. Stewart fol-
lows alone. The leader is a man with
whom Stewart had served In Mexico. He
releases the girl, arranging for ransom.
Returning home with Stewart, Madeline
finds herself strangely stirred.
CHAPTER XII. — Madeline's sister
Helen, with a party of eastern friends,
arrives at the ranch, craving excitement.
CHAPTER XIII.—For the guests’ enter-
tainment a game of golf is arranged.
Stewart interrupts the game, insisting
the whole party return at once to the
house. He tells Madeline her guests are
not safe while the Mexican revolution is
going on, and urges them to go up to
the mountains out of danger. They de-
cide to do so.
CHAPTER XIV.—The guerrillas leave
during the night, without making trouble.
Madeline and her guests, with the cow-
boys, go up to the mountains.
CHAPTER XV.—Edith Wayne pleads
with Madeline to return to the East, but
she refuses.
CHAPTER XVI.—Wandering in the
mountains, Madeline sees Stewart with
the girl Bonita, and comes to the worst
conclusions. At camp Stewart offers to
explain. Madeline will not listen. Stew-
art, in a rage, starts to leave camp. Nels
brings news that Don Carlos and his
followers are coming.
CHAPTER XVII.—The women are con-
cealed, and the approach of the guerril-
las awaited. They come, blustering, but
Stewart’s determined attitude cows them,
and they leave hastily. The party at once
begins its return to the ranch.
She was called out of her slumber.
Day had broken bright and cool. The
sun was still below the eastern crags.
Ambrose, with several other cowboys,
had brought up buckets of spring wa-
ter, and hot coffee and cakes. Made-
line’s party appeared to be none the
worse for the night's experience. In-
deed, the meager breakfast might have
been as merrily partaken of as it was
hungrily had not Ambrose enjoined
silence.
“They're expecting company
below,” he said.
This information and the summary
manner in which the cowboys soon led
the party higher up among the ruined
shelves of rock caused a recurrence of
anxiety. Madeline insisted on not go-
ing beyond a projection of cliff from
which she could see directly down into
the camp.
“Ambrose. do yon really think the
guerrillas will come? she asked.
“Kure. We Liow. Nel iust rode
$n and sald they were on their way up.
Miss Hammond, can I trust you? You
won't let out a squeal if there's a fight
down there? Stewart told me to hide
you out of sight or keep you from
loo}
“] promise not to make any noise,”
replied Madeline.
Madeline arranged her coat so that
she could lie upon it, and settled down
to wait developments. There came a
slight rattling of stones in the rear.
She turned to see Helen sliding down
a bank with a perplexed and troubled
cowboy. Ambrose sternly and hero-
ically prepared to carry her back to
the others. He laid hold of her. In a
fury, with eyes blazing, Helen whis-
pered:
“Let go of me!
this fool mean?”
Madeline laughed. She knew Helen,
and had marked the whisper, when or-
down
Majesty, what does
dinarily Helen would have spoken im-
periously, and not low. Madeline ex-
“] Promise Not to Make Any Noise,”
Replied Madeline.
plained to her the exigency of the sit-
uation. “I might run, but I'll never
scream,” said Helen. With that Am-
brose had to be content to let her stay.
However, he found her a place some-
what farther back from Madeline's po-
sition, where he said there was less
danger of her being seen. Then he
sternly bound her to silence, tarried a
moment to comfort Christine, his wife,
acting as maid to the ladies, and re-
turned to where Madeline lay con-
cealed. He had been there scarcely a
moment when he whispered :
“I hear hosses.
comin’.”
Madeline’s hiding place was well
protected from possible discovery from
below. She could peep over a kind of
parapet, through an opening in the
tips of the pines that reached up to
the cliff, and obtain a commanding view
of the camp circle and its immediate
surroundings. She could not, however,
see far either to right or left of the
camp, owing to the obstructing foliage.
Presently the sound of horses’ hoofs
quickened the beat of her pulse and
caused her to turn keener gaze upon
the cowboys below.
Although she had some inkling of
the course Stewart and his men were
to pursue, she was not by any means
prepared for the indifference she saw.
Frank was asleep, or pretended to be.
Three cowboys were lazily and uncon-
cernedly attending to campfire duties,
such as baking biscuits, watching the
ovens, and washing tins and pots. The
elaborate set of aluminum plates, cups,
etc., together with the other camp fix-
tures that had done service for Made-
line's party, had disappeared. Nick
Steele sat with his back to a log, smok-
ing his pipe. Another cowboy had just
brought the horses closer into camp,
where they stood waiting to be sad-
dled. Nels appeared to be fussing over
a pack. Stewart was rolling a cig-
arette. Monty had apparently nothing
to do for the present except whistle,
" which he was doing much more loudly
than melodiously. The whole ensem-
ble gave an impression of careless in-
difference.
The sound of horses’ hoofs grew
louder and slowed its beat. One of the
cowboys pointed down the trail, toward
which several of his comrades turned
their head for a moment, then went
on with their occupations.
Presently a shaggy, dusty horse
bearing a lean, ragged, dark rider rode
into the camp and halted. Another
followed, and another. Horses with
Mexican riders came in single file and
stopped behind the leader.
“Buenos dias, senor,” ceremoniously
sald the foremost guerrilla.
By straining her ears Madeline
heard that voice, and she recognized
it as belonging to Don Carlos. Siewart
answered the greeting in Spanish, and,
waving his hand toward the campfire,
added in English, “Get down and eat.”
The guerrillas were anything but
slow in complying. They crowded to
the fire, then spread in a little circle
and squatted upon the ground, laying
their weapons beside them. The cow-
boys were not cordial in their recep-
tion of this visit, but they were hos-
pitable. The law of the desert had
always been to give food and drink to
wayfaring men, whether lost or hunted
or hunting.
“They appear to be friendly enough,”
whispered Madeline. “Ambrose, tell
me—explain to me—tbe real thing.”
“Sure. Gene thinks they're after
you ladies—to carry you off. But
Gene— Oh, Gene's some highfalutin
in his ideas lately. Most of us boys
think the guerrillas are out to rob—
that’s all”
Whatever might have been the me-
The guerrillas are |
cret motive of Don Carlos and his men,
they did not allow it to interfere with
vu hearty appreciation of a generous
amount of food. Then, as each ard
every one began to roll and smoke the
inevitable cigarette of the Mexican,
there was a subtle change in manner.
fihey smoked and looked about the
camp, off into the woods, up at the
crags, and back at the leisurely cow-
boys. They had the air of men waiting
for something.
“Senor,” began Don Carlos, address-
ing Stewart. As he spoke he swept
his sombrero to indicate the camp
circle.
Madeline could not distinguish his
words, but his gesture plainly indi-
cated a question in regard to the rest
of the camping party. Stewart’s reply
and the wave of his hand down the
trail meant that his party had gone
home. Stewart turned to some task,
and the’ guerrilla leader quietly
smoked. He looked cunning and
thoughtful. Presently a big-boned man
with a bullet head and a blistered red
face of evil coarseness _>* up and
threw away his ¢jegrette. He was 8D
American,
“Hey, cull,” he called in loud voice,
“ain’t ye goin’ to cough’up a drink?”
“My boys don’t carry liquor on the
trail,” replied Stewart.
“Haw, haw! I heerd over in Roden
thet ye was gittin’ to be shore some
fer temperance,” said this fellow. “I
hate to drink water, but I guess I've
gotter do it.”
He went to the spring, sprawled
down to drink, and all of a sudden he
thrust his arm down in the water to
bring forth a basket. The cowboys in |
the hurry of packing had neglected to
remove this basket; and it contained
bottles of wine and liquors for Made-
line’s guests. They had been sub-
merged in the spring to keep them
cold. The guerrilla fumbled with the
lid, opened it, and then got up, uttering
a loud roar of delight.
Stewart made an almost impercept-
ible motion as if to leap forward; but
he checked the impulse. “Guess my
party forgot that. You're welcome to
ity
Like bees the guerrillas swarmed
around the lucky finder of the bottles.
Like Bees the Guerrillas Swarmed
Around the Lucky Finder of the
Bottles.
The drink did not last long, and it
served only to liberate the spirit of
recklessness. The several white out-
laws began to prowl around the camp;
some of the Mexicans did likewise;
others waited, showing by their {ll-
concealed expectancy the nature of |
their thoughts; E
It was the demeanor of Stewart and
his comrades that puzzled Madeline,
Apparently they felt no anxiety or even
particular interest. Don Carlos, who
had been covertly watching them, now
made his scrutiny open, even aggres-
sive. . The guerrilla leader seemed un-
decided, but not in any sense puzzled.
In her growing excitement Madeline
had not clearly heard Ambrose’s low
whispers and she made an effort to
distract some of her attention from
those below to the cowboy crouching
beside her.
The quality, the note of Ambrose’s
whisper had changed. It had a slight
sibilant sound.
“Don’t be mad if sudden-like I clap
my hands over your eyes, Miss Ham-
mond,” he was saying. “Somethin’s
brewin’ below. I never seen Gene so
cool. That's a dangerous sign in him.
And look, see how the boys are work-
in’ together! Oh, it's slow and acci-
dent-like, but I know {t's sure not
accident. That foxy Greaser knows,
too. But maybe his men don't. If
they are wise they haven't sehse
enough to'care. The Don, though—
he’s worried. It’s Nels and Monty he's
watchin’. And well he need do it!
There, Nick and Frank have settled
down on that log with Booly. They
don’t seem to be packin’ guns. But
look how heavy their vests hang. A
gun in each side! Those boys can pull
« gun and flop over that log quicker
than you can think. Do you notice
how Nels and Monty and Gene are
square between them guerrillas and
the trail up here? It doesn’t seem on
purpose, but it is. Look at Nels and
Monty. How quiet they are confabblin’
together, paying no attention to the
guerrillas. I see Monty look at Gene.
then I see Nels look at Gene... Well.
it's up to Gene,’ And ‘they're goin’ to
back him. I reckon, Miss Hammond,
there'd be dead Greasers round that
camp ‘long ago if Nels and Monty
were foot-loose. They're beholdin’ to
Gene.’ That's plain. And, Lord! how
it tickles me to watch them! Both
' tion of the trail
| green.
i Monty!
packin’ two forty-fives, butts swingin’
clear. There's twenty-four shots in
them four guns. And there's twenty-
three guerrillas. If Nels and Monty
ever throw guns at that close range,
why, before you’d know what was up
there'd be a pile of Greasers. There!
Stewart said something to the Don. I
wonder what. I'll gamble it was some-
thing to get the Don’s outfit all close
together. Sure! Greasers have no
sense. But them white guerrillas,
they're lookin’ some dubious. What-
ever’s comin’ off will come soon, you
can bet. I wish I was down there.
But maybe it won’t come to a scrap.
Stewart's set on avoidin’ that. He's
a wonderful chap to get his way. Lord,
though, I'd like to see him go after
that overbearin’ Greaser! See! the
Don can’t stand prosperity. All this
strange behavior of cowboys is beyond
his pulquesoaked brains. Then he’s
a Greaser. If Gene doesn’t knock him
on the head presently he'll begin to
get over his scare, even of Nels and
Monty. But Gene 'll pick out the right
time. Never saw Nels in but one
fight, then he just shot a Greaser’s
‘arm off for tryin’ to draw on him. But
I've heard all about him. And Monty!
Monty’s the real - old-fashioned gun-
man. What I don’t understand is how
i Monty keeps so quiet and easy and
peaceful-like. That's not his way, with
such an outfit lookin’ for trouble.
O-ha! Now for the grand bluff. Looks
like no fight at all!”
The guerrilla leader had ceased his
i restless steps and glances, and turned
to Stewart with something of bold
resolution in his aspect.
“Gracias, senor,” he said. «Adios
He swept his sombrero in the direc-
leading down the
mountain to the ranch; and as he com-
pleted the gesture a smile, crafty and
jeering, crossed his swarthy vce.
Ambrose whispered so low that
Madeline scarcely heard him. “If the
Greaser goes that way he'll find our
horses and get wise to the trick. Oh,
he’s wise now! But I'll gamble he
never even starts on that trail.”
Neither hurriedly nor guardedly
Stewart rose out of his leaning posture
and took a couple of long Strides
toward Don Carlos.
“Go back the way you came,” he fair-
ly yelled; and his voice had the ring
of a bugle.
Ambrose nudged Madeline; his whis-
per was tense and rapid: “Don’t miss
nothin’. Gene’s called him. What-
ever’s comin’ off will be here quick as
i lightnin’. See! I guess maybe that
Greaser don’t savvy good U. S. lingo.
| Look at that dirty yaller face turn
Put one eye on Nels and
That's great—just to see
em. Just as quiet and easy. But oh,
the difference! Bent and stiff—that
means every muscle is like a rawhide
; rlata. They're watchin’ with eyes that
; can see the workin’s of them Greasers’
minds. Now there ain't a hoss-hair
between them Greasers and h—I1!"
Don . Carlos gave Stewart one long
' malignant stare; then he threw back his
head, swept up the sombrero, and his
evil smile showed gleaming teeth.
“Senor—* he began.
With magnificent bound Stewart was
upon him. The guerrilla’s cry was
throttled in his throat. A fierce
wrestling ensued, too swift to see
clearly; then heavy, sodden blows, and
Don Carlos was beaten to the ground.
Stewart leaped back. Then, crouch-
ing with his hands on the butts of
guns at his hips, he yelled, he thun-
dered at the guerrillas. He had been
quicker than a panther, and now his
voice was so terrible that it curdled
Madeline’s blood, and the menace of
deadly violence in his crouching posi-
tion made her shut her eyes. But she
had to open them. In that single in-
stant Nels and Monty had leaped to
Stewart’s side. Both were bent down,
with hands on the butts ‘of guns at
their hips. Nels’ piercing yell seemed
to divide Monty's oar of rage. ‘Then
they ceased, and echoes clapped from
the crags. The silence of those three
men crouching like tigers about to leap
was more menacing than the nerve-
racking yells,
Then the guerrillas wavered and
broké and ran for their horses. Don
Carlos rolled over, rose, and staggered
away, to be helped upon his mount.
He looked back, his pale and bloody
face that of a thwarted demon. The
whole band got into action and were
gone in a moment.
“1 knew it,” declared Ambrose.
“Never seen a Greaser who could face
gun-play. That was some warm. And
Monty Price never flashed a gun! He'll
never gét over that. I reckon, Miss
Hammond, we're some lucky to avoid
trouble. Gene had his way, as you
seen. We'll be makin’ tracks for the
ranch in about two shakes.”
“Why?” whispered Madeline, breath-
lessly. She became conscious that she
was weak and shaken.
“Because the guerrillas sure will get
their nerve back, and come sneakin’
on:our trail or try to head us off by
ambushin’,” replied Ambrose. “That's
their way. Otherwise three cowboys
couldn't bluff a whole gang like that.
Gene knows the nature of Greasers.
They're white-livered. But I reckon
we're in more danger now than before,
unless we get a good start down the
mountain. There! Gene's callin’,
Come! Hurry!”
Helen had slipped down from her
vantage point, and therefore had not
seen the last act in that little camp-
fire drama. It seemed, however, that
her desire for excitement was satis-
fled, for her face was pale and she
trembled when she asked if the guer-
rillas were gone.
Ambrose hurrfed the three women
over the rough rocks, down the cliff.
The cowboys below were saddling
horses: in ‘haste. Swiftly, with regard
only for life and lirab, Madeline, Helen,
and Christine were lowered by lassoes
and half carried down to the level. By
the time they were safely down. the
They were in ex-
to treat the
on the cliff above.
cellent spirits, appearing
matter as a huge joke.
Ambrose put Christine on a horse
and rode away through the pines;
Frankie Slade did likewise with Helen.
Stewart led Madeline's horse up to
her, helped her tec mount, and spoke
one stern word, “Wait!” Then as fast
as one of the women reached the level
she was put upon a horse and taken
away by a cowboy escort. Few words
were spoken. Haste seemed to be the
great essential. The horses were
urged, and, once in the trail, spurred
and led into a swift trot. One cowboy
drove up four pack-horses, and. these
were hurriedly loaded with the party’s
baggage. Castleton and his com-
panions mounted, and galloped off to
catch the others in the lead. This left
Madeline behind with Stewart and
Nels and Monty.
“They're goin’ to switch off at the
holler thet heads near the trail a few
miles down,” Nels was saying, as he
tightened his sadd.e-girth. “Thet hol-
lgr heads into a big canyon. Once in
thet, it'll be every man fer hisself. I
reckon there won’t be anythin’ wuss
than a rough ride.”
Nels smiled reassuringly at Made-
line, but he did not speak to her.
Monty took her canteen and filled it
at the spring and hung it over the
pommel of her saddle. He put a couple
of biscuits in the saddle-bag.
“Don’t fergit to take a drink an’ a
bite as you're ridin’ along,” he said.
“An’ don’t worry, Miss Majesty. Stew-
art 'll be with you. an’ me an’ Nels
hangin’ on the back trail.”
His somber and sullen face did not
change in its strange intensity, but
the look in his eyes Madeline felt she
would never forget. Left alone with
these three men, now stripped of all
pretense, she realized how fortune had
favored her and what peril still hung
in the balance. Stewart swung astride
his big black, spurred him, and whis-
tled. At the whistle Majesty jumped,
and with swift canter followed Stew-
art. Madeline looked back to see Nels
already up and Monty handing him a
rifle. Then the pines hid her view.
Once in the trail, Stewart's horse
broke into a gallop. Majesty changed
his gait and kept at the black’s heels,
Stewart called back a warning. The
low, wide-spreading branches of trees
might brush Madeline out of the sad-
dle. Fast riding through the forest
along a crooked. obstructed trall called
forth all her alertness.
Before long Stewart wheeled at right
angles off the trail and entered a hol-
low between two low bluffs. Madeline
saw tracks in the open patches of
ground. Here Stewart's horse took to
a brisk walk.
At last Madeline was brought to al
dead halt by Stewart and his horse
blocking the trail. Looking up, she
saw they were at the head of a can-
yon that yawned beneath and widened
its gray-walled, green-patched slopes
down to a black forest of fir. Retract-
ing her gaze, Madeline saw pack-
| horses cross an open space a mile be-
low, and she thought she saw the stag
hounds. Stewart's dark eyes searched
the slopes high up along the craggy
escarpments. Then he put the black
to the descent.
He led off to the right, zigzagging
an intricate course through the rough-
est ground Madeline had ever ridden
over. He crashed through cedars,
threaded a tortuous way among
boulders, made his horse slide down
slanting banks of soft earth, picked a
slow and cautious progress across
weathered slopes of loose rock. Made
line followed, finding in this ride a
tax on strength and judgment. It was
dust and heat, a parching throat, that
caused her to think of time; and she
was amazed to .see the sun sloping to
the west.
never looked back; he never spoke.
“#“After a mile or so of easy travel
the ground agaln begau to fall de
~idedly, sloping in numerous Héyes,
He Went Cautiously Forward te
Listen.
with: draws between. Soon night
shadowed the deeper gullies. Madeline
was refreshed by the cooling of the air
Stewart traveled slowly now. The
barks of coyotes seemed to startle him
Often he stopped to listen. And during
one of those intervals the silence wai
broken by sharp rifle shots. Madeline
could not tell whether they were neal
or far, to right or left, behind or be
fore. Evidently Stewart was botl
alarmed and bafflel. He dismounted
He went cautiously forward to listen
Madeline fancied she heard a cry, low
and far away. It was only that of ¢
coyote, she convinced herself, yet 1!
was so wailing, so human, that sh
shuddered. Stewart came back. H:
Et i ] A.
! other members of the party appeared
Stewart never stopped; he
UR,
slipped the bridle of both horses, an@
he led them. Every few paces he
stopped to listen. He changed his di-
rection several times, and the last time
he got among rough, rocky ridges. The
iron shoes of the horses cracked on the
rocks. That sound must have pene-
trated far into the forest. It perturbed
Stewart, for he searched for softer
ground. Meanwhile the shadows
merged into darkness. The stars shone.
The wind rose. Madeline believed
hours passed.
Stewart halted again. In the gloom
Madeline discerned a log cabin, and
beyond it spear-pointed dark trees
piercing the sky line. She could just
make out Stewart's tall form as he
leaned against his horse. Either he
was listening or debating what to do—
perhaps both. Presently he went in-
side the cabin. Madeline heard the
scratching of a match; then she saw a
faint light. The cabin appeared to be
deserted. Probably it was one of the
many habitations belonging to pros-
pectors and foresters who lived in the
mountains. Stewart came out again.
For a long moment he stood as still as
a statue and listened. Then she heard
Rim mutter, “If we have to start quick
I can ride bareback.” With that he
took the saddle and blanket off his
horse and carried them into the cabin.
“Get off,” he suid, in a low voice, as
he stepped out of the door.
He helped her down and led her in-
side, where again he struck a match.
Madeline caught a glimpse of a rude
fireplace and rough-hewn logs. Stew-
art’s blanket and saddle lay on the
hard-packed earthen fioor.
“Rest a little,” he said. “I'm going
into the woods a piece to listen. Gone
only a minute or so.”
Madeline had to feel round in the
dark to locate the saddle and blanket.
When she lay down it was with a
grateful sense of ease and relief. As
her body rested, however, her mind
became the old thronging maze for
sensation and thought. All day she
had attended to the alert business of
helping her horse. Now, what had
already happened, the night, the si-
lence, the proximity of Stewart and
his strange, stern caution, the possi-
ble happenings to her friends—all
claimed their due share of her feel-
ing. She could not sleep; she did not
try to.
Stewart’s soft steps sounded out-
side. His dark form loomed in the
door. As he sat down Madeline heard
the thump of a gun that he laid be-
side him on the sill; then the thump
of another as he put that down, too.
The sounds thrilled her. He turned
his ear to the wind and listened. Mo-
tionless he sat for what to her seemed
hours.
Then the stirring memory of the
day's adventure, the feeling of the
beauty of the night, and a strange,
deep-seated, sweetly vague conscious-
ness of happiness portending, were all
burned out in hot, pressing pain at the
remembrance of Stewart's disgrace In
her eyes. Something had changed
within her so that what had been an-
ger at herself was sorrow for him. He
was such a splendid man. She could
not feel the same; she knew her debt
to him, yet she could not thank him,
could not speak to him. She fought
an unintelligible bitterness.
Then she rested with closed eyes,
and time seemed neither short nor
long. When Stewart called her she
opened her eyes to see the gray of
dawn. She rose and stepped outside.
The horses whinnied. In a moment
she was In the saddle, aware of
cramped muscles and a weariness of
limbs. Stewart led off at a sharp trot
into the fir forest. They came to a
trail into which he turned. The horses
traveled steadily; the descent grew
less steep; the firs thinned out; the
gray gloom ‘brightened. _
When Madeline rode out of the firs
the sun had arisen and the foothills
rolled ‘beneath her; and at their edge,
where the gray of valley began, she
saw a dark patch that she ‘knew was
the ranch house.
(To be continued).
First American Fire Engine.
The first fire engine in America was
received in Boston January 27, 1679.
It was a crude contrivance, to be
drawn by men and operated by hand
power. No great improvement was
made in fire-fighting apparatus from
ancient times until the Nineteenth
century, when the steam fire engine
was invented. Fire engines are said
to have been invented by Ctesibius in
the year 250 B. C. A hero of Alexan-
dria describes those ancient “siphons
used in conflagrations.” The mechan-
ism consisted of two cylinders and pis-
tons connected by a reciprocating beam
which raised and lowered the pistons
alternately, and this, with the aid of
valves opening only toward the jet,
projected the water from it, but not in
a continuous stream, as the pressure
ceased at each alternation of the
stroke.
Salt-Spilling Superstition.
Ask ten people why they are horri-
fled at the idea of spilling salt, and
nine of them will admit that they
think it is unlucky, but do not know
the reason. It is the same with most
of our superstitions, many of which
are as old as the human race.
Salt is one of the necessaries of life,
and to eat it in a man’s house in the
East is today a sign of friendship,
as it was in the days of Abraham. If
you refuse to eat his salt you offer
him the deadliest insult, while the ac-
cidental spilling of it could easily be
mistaken for a willful act, and might
cost a clumsy man his life.
If, however, he picked up a pinch
and threw it over his left shoulder
he signified that the spiiling had been
unintentional.