THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 187, 11 September 1909, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

1, TBE COWABB. ' a j About two o'clock Lee missed a'calf, and, disgusted, she left the corral. Having marked her perfunctory interest in the round-up, Tim followed. "Area't you staying, Leef ij "No; I'm in mo mood for this." ft* She flung out her arm impatiently. $' "You haven't been yourself lately, sis. p. Anything I can do to help?" C He adored Lee. A "No, dear fellow; it's a case of fight-1 f- ing it out ob my own line. 11l ride to f- the spring at Blue Rock and work up a J, decent frame of mind before snpper. My * disposition's tired." ' t He turned, with a worried wrinkle bo . ' tween his eyes. It was queer for Lee t to be tired—Lee, who wag always eo ' gloriously enthusiastic. He'd have to I find out what was the matter. It I wouldn't do at all—not at all. He !<■ plunged back into the absorbing corral f —dust, heat, frantic cattle, yelling i, vsqneroe. Lee told Lupa to have supper at six, \ then started Pinto up the trail to jog * : unguided. Hot .mind was a maze. Since t ihe night before, when she had found k Arbuthnot holding her picture to his face Kj_ flfith a look that every woman und?rMjg stands, thought.had' been incoherent. W She only knew that she hated him—fr / He was such a coward. That very morale, lag, at the first branding, he had whitE' coed when the calf screamed, and re S fused to stay to the round-up; and, uh, 5?-. he was ahvaye so afraid of everything! s| Dick, who, according to tradition, was &' born in the saddle, and never got out of g: , it exeept to eat, had said that the honorIt able Englishman must be very clever if |t all the grit he_ought to have and didn't F3 show had. gone into brains; and the res' ~ mark had been repeated until every cowpV W °n W»e range had laughed at the |i, honorable Englishman. £■ A response to Pinto's whinny inter-1 s*. tttpted. Along the trail before her came KK ArbnthnoF, riding Ancha, a stock.buck-1 JS skin. He eat his horse easily, because ?i it would have been impossible for ArK. bntbnot to do anything uneasily. | "What, Miss Lee! I didn't expect to seejrou awar from the corrals to-day.'' i L "lam riding to Btue Bock to see if the spring is low. At this season we j' \ Must Degnr to watch ■water-supplies." \ Ske spoke curtly, <with no cadence of %i invitation.

"May I go r* he asked deferentially. Bis hat was ttitl off, and the sun

(j£ lighted his fair hair. He had blue eyes t- aid dear features—a chin remarkably f salient |i, "He has bo business to have such a : pi chin," Lee resentfully said to herself. ft She nodded an indifferent assent, and I? he turned Ancha. They; rode silently, she frowning iray patiently as she noticed his avoidance of f, ;j obstacles and his unconscious guidance %,' of the horse from the edge. r ; "Let's go fast!" she cried, tipping her jt sombrero over her eyes and swinging \ ker whip. |„i Pinto leaped, and for a mile led the V way at a long gallop.

(' At tW head of the canon they stopped involuntarily. It was California-in May! i.Pine Ridge in May! * Hazy distances shivered blue. The y poppy patches shot flame across hillside:. v peio*', a lake shimmered, and away tu * ;the northward observatory - crowned jfMount Hamilton loomed. Over all was 5* "the world-old miracle of spring." tj Lee's perplexity and nnbappiness |r faded. The largeness and peace of the m; world grew, into her soul. ji "Oh, you dear country! I rove you!

f Mr. Arbuthnot, isn't it fine? Isn't it t a land to live in!"

t> Her eye* were dark and her cheeks s / were coolly piak. i "It ib the greatest thing in the world," k he answered gravely. "I think I care fc 100 much about it all. I'd rather dream j( and read in a place like this than make K the most brilliant speech in the House; f, I'd rather watch that buttercup open

C than own all the cattle on the rasch. it "Dearold dad has always been dis in me because I have none of K : bis sense and daring. I can't bear lo *i «ee anything in ,pain. A snake makes g. me shudder; blood makes me deathly a>, eick. You have no conception of {his—■ V" you who are so strong and dauntless and j' alive.

*•'■ "And maybe it's the difference that )T~ makes me love you, for I do lore you. ■ff if yon kHOW how much? Your £. T eTea look up from every page; I see PjW face ia every flower. I dream of | the touch of .your lips, I love you, Lee! I love you! w 'Tell me what it is—this eoldncs». |.Ton treat the vanueros more kindlyh' than yon do me. Yeu are more cordial ' -to wandering tramps. How have I o"t/Jeadedr ;"! 153

* She was still for a moment. Then jk'the words rushed;

¥/ "Mr. Arbuthnot, aH my life has bepn in the hills. Dad brought Tim and ; ,'me op to be strong and kind and to fe-ir f nothing in the world but a lie. In me t are grained some of dad's bravery and < all of his dislike/for a coward. My coi-

" lege life strengthened my admiration for * the vigor and cleanness and courage of \> the men of the mountains, and I came Kbaek glad. ?"" "Until yon came I was happy. I an

H*. ashamed and puzzled that you can disW. ' turn me. Do you remember the day 1 S-;met you at the station? You shrank |f.« when the wag-gen slipped off the trail; I? ■ JWJ winced when we ran over a rattleWake. The men say contemptuously §-, that you could have had the biggest tuck !"" 1 Of the season if you hadn't lost your Yf nerve. You toe afraid of things! Oh, h that I shonld care for a coward! I do \ not love yon—l will not!"

&>, He had paled. C. "It's all quite true, and of course I & * ran't expect yeu to care when I fall so g- short of your Ideals; bat, my dear, my %' dear, you can't go out of my life next L'.treek!" i V ff "Next weekV ¥ "Yes-1 go home, DidVt you knowV & . She whitened. p? "Aren't yon leaving unexpectedly?'' jt~, "I thought you knew. Mother's birth■F day is in June, and I always go home j*! lor that if I can." >£ "How yon love your mother!" she id, nnrninrea. "Mother! I worship her. People say J. 1 " We* are alike, only, of course, she is very vr 'good. But the is afraid of things, too. • yen see, and they always laughed at her 'iy antil sue saved old bed-ridden Matthews.] ', Bhe was riding when she saw the flames. % and she went in all alone and dragged , him out. It was a splendid thing to do. -* Whr. mother's the finest woman in the f world' How you would love her, and rhe would love you!"

Lee's eyes were wet as she turned Kite,

TVi!" Rock, an immense purplish boulder, they found the spring running (nil. They watered the horses and tightened the cinches.

H3s_gesture stayed her. "Am I to go home alone, and with no

\ ' hope? I have loved you long. The first ,' day at the station I knew you were the ■ «n« woman. Ever since then I have -i cared entirely. "Once I found you crying, and could '.,'. not trust myself to ask what was the matter, for if I had spoken, it would

, have been to call you 'Love'; if I had moved it would have been to gather you " tight in my arms and never fet yon go. And next week I am going home. Must I go atone? Don't you caret Can't you care?" 3 A sudden resolve widened Lee's eves. IJo you see that manzanita? Please get it for me.'' The bush clung to an almost perpendicular cliff above" them. The 'ateblooming waxen bells clustered pink pn 5j the gnttrled stems, is the two looked, "* » lizar' showed grey against the bril- %', Irant r-6 bark. "T -in afraid," Arbuthnot said simpty. f- _ " ve don't hurry, it will be late beti> "" • we get home." Her tone was emolio.iless, her face a mask. I mp. Ther rode a mile and neither spoke. >., There -was nothing to «ay. 1,. Suddenly agonised screams shrilled up I from the canon. The bank below the trail slanfea 1 abruptly for ten fee* dnd fmninated in a long sheer drop to the creek. ' At the edge oftfie incline a calf huns l»y this neck fn a tree. Overlooked in tie riding, he had evidently wandered until he fetl from the trail to his present predicament "Stay here!" Arbnthnot sharply ordered. "I can set him." "Ytra cant. Not a horse on the ranch tould ride that cliff, You can't go; you 'shall notf" "I'm not going fiTtake the horse. I'.'l slide down, and you can null the calf up iWth the "Cecil, don't go! I'm begging you not to 60. You'll get hurt" "Why, tee, child, the poor little •naver'll cnoke*to death. Bon't you see? Vm coming, old boy!" Earth slid and stones clattered, ami Jthe. last three feet gave, but the tn>e (aught him. The calf was choking yaucowdy and tremblin" with terror. Arbnthnot lifted it and knotted the {Ariat about Us neck. all tfgW!" he called, 'li you'il

juat pull easy, I'll help the little beggar' oi his feet, end lie can uiitkc the trail." 6he pulled. At first Arbuthnot steadied the calf, wliicb. climbed frantic[ally, and Ixe's strung arms finally diagged it over the edge. She released the kiiat, and threw one end to Arbulbuot. >

I "Tic it to that sapling," lie directed. '■' Won't eoinc up while you are holding

I She obeyed silently. Halfway up hj" stumbled aud fell, "lucre was a tearing sound, a rush—aud man, lariat, and uprooted sapling disappeared over uie ed"o of the cliff. °

Lee sprang forward and nearly went down, but the thought that she must not get hurt if she would help steadied her. She called twice. No answer. Leading Anciia, she went back to the trail along the creek.

He was lying partly in the water, fuddled and motionless.

She struggled with all her young strength; she strained until the blood pounded in her ears and her breath choked before she succeeded in dragging him up the bank. His body was limp; his limbs flaccid. Blood from a jagged &ut on the left temple crimsoned his face find shirt i

\ IV. Lee drenched her handkerchief and pressed it to the wound. She crouched beside him, moaning: ''Cecil, my love, and I told you I didn't care! You eaa't be dead, Cecil! Only wake up till 1 tell you!" But there was no answer, no motion except the blood oozing through ir» handkerchief. For a moment despair chilled her. Then his extremity, his helplessness, the silent appeal of his white face, brought a rush of the maternal instinct of protection, and with it leaped the indomitable fighting spirit of her father. She chafed the lifeless hands with feverish energy; she shook him hard, and called aloud defiantly: "I, will not let you go! You shall not,, 1 say! Do you hear, Cecil? You shall not die! Listen to ine, Cecil!" I

"Ah-h!" His eyes unclosed and widened with surprise. "Why Oh, yes; I remember! Wasn't it a good

'hing you weren't holding that ropu? Where's the calf? What's that from?" —incidentally, as he brought down his hand, red. "Your head is cut. Does it pain much? Are you hurt anywhere else? Oh, lan frightened!" Her eyes brimmed. "Awfully nasty of Fate to give me such a beauty-mark, isn't it ?" he laugued up at her. "But let's go home and get a bit of court-plaster, and I'll be as tit as ever, if not so handsome." ' "Don't laugh. You might have been killed."

what is said about the good dying young? There is no danger, you see; and, truly, I'm all right, but awfully sorry it frightened you." Her tender fingers bound the wet lin:n tight with the scarlet handkerchief from her throat.

"Can you ride? Can you get on?" regarding him anxiously.

vSurely. Can you lend inc a shoulder?"

He labored to his feet, and stood tottering for a moment dizzily. When he finally reeled into the saddle, he was so white that she feared his fainting, but at the touch of her upstretehed hands he straightened and smiled. "I'm worse than Dick the night after pay-day, but I assure you, dear madam, that I am not intoxicated"—with mock dignity. "How can you joke? Doesn't it hurt dreadfully?" "Yes; to confess with quite courageous candour, my vanity docs hurt drendluily. Do you think there'll be a scar? Oh, don't doom me to a scarred old age, I to be the jest of my unwounded friends."

[ When they reached the ridge, they could see the house below, the smoke curling lazily upward, the men at the barns unsaddling their jaded horses and leading them off. Pinto and Ancha lurched roughly down the steep trail, and Arbuthnof's face blanched, . "Are you sure you can ride down ?"

Her voice pulsed with pity. "Of course, if you insist on carrying [me, I couldn't resist so fair an occasion," he answered seriously. "That horse jolts cruelly. You are very brave." lie veered.

'"I am seized with a vulgar curiosity to know where the calf went. 1 liked him—always did like red calves."

Ancha stumbled and jerked up. Lee turned at the groan. "What's that?"

"Me practising deep breathing—how to be young at sixty, you know," he lied, -iniling; but pa-'u darkened' his eyes, and Lee wanted to cry. "We're nearlv home," she said thankfully.

"I feel that I shall be disgustingly lazv when we get there. I shall go to l.c-l and stay there like the 'two little men who lay in their bed till the clock struck ten.' Proportionally, I can stay longer. If one bed will last two men until ten, how long will it last one man? 'Twice as long.Vs as near as I can git to an answer. I've always been such a duffer at figures. At school I wanted to crawl under the master's desk and call the police when math, came round. Isn't it sad?" —quizzically. As he spoke, Ancha turned into the corral. \

Tim sprang forward. "Why, Arbuthnot, man "

"Hello, Tim, old boy! How was tho round-up? Did you get all the poor little be&sties properly" ticketed?" "What's the matter with your head?" "Head? Nothing much. I was 60 daft as to fall into a creek, and added insult by landing against a boulder—a nasty, sharp boulder, too. If you'll give me a hand I'll try the house. He threw his leg over the horn, anl s'.\d forward—inert. As Tim caught him. (lie richt arm gave sickeningly. Ti.n iowered him gently, and his intcllige.-t fingers made careful examination. He started, shuddering, swung about, and [looked wide-eyed at Lee. "How far did you come?" he deI manded. "From. Blue Rock Slide."

At the expression on her brother's face, horror grew in her eyes. She whispered : "Tim, what is it?" "Shoulder's smashed!" "What grit!" from Dick.

(As they lifted him, something 'ell ringing, Lee stooped. It was a bronze Maltese cross. The back" said: "Cecil Arbuthnot, volunteer nurse—the plague. India, 1D01." "God!" breathed Dick.

Later, Arbuthnot slowly woke, bewildered until memory flashed the day before hiin, and the feel of things told him where he -was. ffis moving fingeis '.onched a soft hand. "Lee," he whispered.

, "You are awake? Does it hurt terribly! Oh. you are the bravest— IPlease forgive!" she sobbed. "Hush! There's nothing to forgive. I love you!" She slipped timid fiugers up to his face, and lie read the mute caress. He held out his unhurt arm. "I'm not going home alone!" he cried joyously.—Nell A. Thompson, in the Red Magazine.