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CHAPTKK IX—('oniiuu'd For tfie moment, tneretore, lie ooiua do nothing more but look for snocor. A glance down the deeert told him hie fellowe were at last rudely awakened. True to the practice of the craft, the instant fire was opened from the rocks each man bad put spurs to his horse and dashed away to a safer distance with such speed as was possible with their jaded mounts, each trooper warily scanning the dark line of the foot hills in search of the foe and striving as he rode to unfasten the flap that held his carbine, in the fashion of the day, athwart the pommel of his saddle, and now, circling farther out upon the plain, in wide sweep, with carbines advanced, they were hastening to the succor of their comrade. Presently one of their number suddenly drew rein, halted his startled “broncho,” aimed to the left of the horse’s head and fired, then, cramming a cartridge into the chamber, came riding farther. The others, too, followed suit, shooting at some object apparently among the rocks in front of the sergeant’s position. One of the men threw himself from his sad dle, and kneeling on the sands drove two or three shots at long range. Eager to add his own fire to theirs. Wing pulled his hatbrim over his eyes, threw for- (Fiuff threw forward the barrel over the now tinted carcase of poor Dick. ward the barrel over the now stilled carcass of poor Dick, and peered eagerly up the ravine in search of some foe at whom to aim. Blindly he searched for dusky Apache skulking frc^i rock to rock. There was no moving thing in sight But what was this—this ob ject that suddenly shot out from behind a little ledge, and turning sharply to the left went clattering into the depths of a dark and frowning gorge? Could he believe his eyes? Did the Chiricahuas, then, have horses and wear trooper hats? Bending low over his steed and spurring him to the uttermost exertion, a tall, even soldierly, form had darted one instant into view and then gone thundering out of sight. Dp to this moment Wing never had lost full con trol of his faculties. Now his brain reeled. Before his eyes rose a dense cloud of mist rushing forth from the mountain side. Bowlders, near at hand, took to waltzing solemnly with their neighbors, and when at last the foremost trooper flung himself from his horse and crept to the sergeant's side, while his comrades rode on, keep ing vigilant watch against the appear ance of other foes, Sergeant Wing was found lying beside his dead horse. He had swooned utterly away. By and by, with anxious face and bandaged bead and arm, Lieutenant Drummond came galloping down. Wing was then submitting to the rude ban daging of his leg and lying limp and weak, his head resting on Dick’s stiff ening shoulder. But Wing’s eyes were covered by his gauntleted hand and he never looked up at his young com mander, though he heard his anxious queries. “Is he much hurt? Were there many of them?” "Shot through the leg here, dr,” an swered the sturdy corporal, “and was in a dead faint when we got to him. I don’t know how many there was of them, lieutenant; they skipped off the moment we opened fire.” “They couldn’t have seen us coming, lieutenant, ” eagerly spoke a young re cruit “They must have thought the sergeant was alone, for when we charged they just lit out for all they were worth, didn't they, Mike?” he eagerly asked his comrade, an older trooper. “Oh, shut up, Billy I There’s nothing an Apache doesn't see, but we were too far off to tell how many there was. I only saw one as he lept away. Shure the sergeant was nearer—he could have seen." "Sergeant Wing, it is I, Lieutenant Drummond. Look up a moment if you can. You were close to them; how many did you see?" "How many Indiana, sir?” asked Wing faintly. "Yes, how many?” A pause. Then at last! “! didn’t see oue, sir.” CHAPTER X. Another day dawned and another pa tient was added to Mias Harvey's hos pital list at the caves. The original plan of starting on the return soon aft er daybreak had now to be abandoned, as Drummond explained, because here was a man who could not stand the journey. Surely there would not be many hours before the relief party from Btoneman, following their trail, would come speeding to the rescue, bringing to the wounded the needed surgical skill and attention, bringing to the Harvey girls their devoted father. The only question in the young lieutenant's paind as the sun rose, a burning, das- sling disk, over the distant mountains to the east was, Which will be first to reach us, friends or foes? Wearied and shattered though he was and replete as the night had been with anxiety and vigil, Drummond climbed the goat track that led to the sentry’s perch feeling full of hope and pluck and fight. He and his men had divided the night intowatchee, one being awake and astir, not even permitting himself to sit a moment, while the others slept The fact that he was able to send trek to the caves, have an ambulance hitch ed in and driven down to where Wing jay wounded, and to bear him slowly, carefully, Daca to sneiter, rescuing rne caves without further molestation be fore darkness set in. had served to con vince the young commander that he could count on reasonable security for the night. Unless they know their prey to be puny and well nigh defenseless, Apaches make no assault in the dark ness, and so, with the coming of the dawn, he had about him fit for service a squad of seven troopers, most of them seasoned mountain fighters. His main anxiety now was for Wing, whose wound was severe, the bullet having gone clear through, just grazing the bone, and who, despite the fact that Fanny Harvey early In the night had every now and then crept noiselessly in to cool his fevered head, seemed strange ly affected mentally, seemed unnatu rally (lightly and wandering, seemed oppressed or excited alternately in a way that baffled Drummond complete ly, for no explanation was plausible. Two or three times during the night he had been heard moaning, and yet the moment Drummond or, as onoe hap pened, Miss Harvey hastened to Ms side he declared it was nothing. “1 must have been dozing A1 imagtasd the pain was greater than it was.” Awake and conscious, so stout a soldier as he would be the last to give way to childish exhibitions of suffering, yet twice Drummond knew him to be awake despite his protestation of doz ing, and he did not at all like it that Wing should bury his face in his arms, hiding it from all. What could have occurred to change this buoyant, Jayos* high Spirited trooper all sn a sudden into a sighing, moaning, womanish fel low ? Surely not a wound of which, however painful, any soldier might be proud. Somewhere along toward 4 o’clock, when it was again Patterson’s watch, and Drummond arose from his blanket after a refreshing sleep of nearly two hours and he and his faithful sentry were standing just outside the mouth of the cave, they distinctly heard the same moan of distress. “Is there nothing we can do to ease the sergeant, sir?” whispered Patter son. “This makes the second time 1 have heard him groaning, and it's so nnlike him.” “We have no opiates, and I doubt if he would use one if we had. He de clares there is no intense pain. ” "Well, first off, sir, I thought he was dreaming, but he was wide awake, and Miss Harvey came in only a moment after I got to him. Could those devils poison a bullet as they do their arrows, and could that make him go into fever so soon?” “1 hardly think so, but why did you say dreaming?” “Because once it was ’mother’ he called, and again—just now—I thought he said ‘mother. ’ ” The lieutenant turned, looking straight at his soldierly subordinate. "By Jove, Patterson, so did 11” There was a little stir across the canyon. Moreno was edging about un easily and beginning to mutter blas phemy at his bonds. "That fellow begged very hard to be moved down into that wolf hole of a place where the Mexican women are, lieutenant, with those two bunged up bandits to take care of. Nice time we'd have, sir, if the three of them was able to move. The boys'd make short work of them now, the way they’re feeling. I went in and took a look at those two fellows. One of ’em is a I goner, sure, but they’re dead game, both of ’em. Neither one has a word to say. ” “No," answered Drummond, "they refused to give their names to me—said it was no os 4 hly consequence what name we put ov< - their graves; the right set of fellows would be along after awhile and do them all the honor they cared for. How were the Moreno women behaving?" “The girl was asleep, I should judge, sir. The old hag was rocking to and fro, crooning to herself until one of the two—the live one, I should call him—hurled a curse at her in Span ish and told her to dry up or he’d kill her. All a bluff, for he can’t move a Peg-’’ "Watch them well, Patterson, all the same. Hush I” Again from within the deep shelter of the rocky cave came the low moan of anguish: “MotherI mother 1 if you knew” “Here, Patterson, I can't stand this. I’m going in to him. ” And picking np the dim lantern which he had taken from the Harvey wagon Drummond stole in on tiptoe and knelt again be side hia wounded comrade. “Wing! sergeant! Look up, man. Speak to me. You must be in distress, mental or bodily. Do let me help you in some way.” For a moment no reply whatever. Wing’s face was hidden. Then be looked gently upward. “Lieutenant, I’m ashamed to be giv ing you so much trouble. Please go and lie down again, sir; you’re worse hnrt than I am—only 1 suppose I get to doz ing off and then turn on that side. ” “No, it isn’t that, sergeant. There’s something wrong, and it has all come on you since yesterday morning. Where is your mother?” Again Wing turned away, burying hia face in his arms. "Listen, sergeant; we hope to get you out of this by tonight Dr. Gray 3 kt surely to reach us by that time, while we may have to keep up a field hospital hen a day or two my first duty will be to write and tell your mother how bravely you have served us, and she shall be told that you are wounded, but not in such a way as to alarm her.” Out came a restraining hand. “Lieutenant she must not know at all.” “Well, she can’t so far as I’m con cerned, as I don’t know her address. But think a moment; you know and I know— Hold on, wait!” And Drum mond rose and tiptoed to a cleft in the rock through which shone a dim light It was the entrance to the reacts in ner cave where the Harvey gins were sleeping. Assured that his words could reach there no listening ears, Drum mond returned, kneeling again by the sergeant’s side. “Just think, man; any moment after daybreak the Apaches may be upon us, and, who knows? it may be my last fight. Of course I be lieve that our fellows can stand them off until rescue comes, but a bullet may find me any moment, and then who is these to report your conduct and secure the .recognition due you, or if the doc tor should be late in coming and fever set in and this wound prove too much for your strength is there nothing that ought to be said to her for you?” Again only painful silence. At last Wing spoke. “I understand. I appreciate all you say. But I've got to think it over, liuntenant. Give mo an hour or so. Don’t ask me to tell you now. ” “So be it. man. Now rest all you possibly can. It's almost day. The crags are beginning to light up back of us here already. Yea, and the sentry's calling me now. I'll be back by and by. What is it, Patterson?” he whis pered, going to the mouth of the cave. “I’ve just come down from the tree up there, sir. You can see quite a ways down the range now, though the light is dim, and what 1 take to be a signal fire leaped up not three miles belowj, certainly this side of where Wing was shot. ” “So soon? All right; then get bark to the post just as quick as you can. I’ll rouse the man who has slept long est. All must be astir in half an hour, but you keep watch there. ” And half an hour later it is that, field- glass in hand, the young officer is there by Patterson's side, peering eastward almost into the eye of the sun, search ing with anxiety inexpressible for any s%n of dust cloud rising along the trail on whteh they came, for the sight he has seen down the range, now brilliant in the morning light, has filled his heart with the first real dread it has yet known. In three places, not more than four or five miles apart, down along the sunlit side of this wild and picturesque mountain chain, signal smokes have been puffing straight up skyward, the nearest only a couple of miles from this lone picket post, hot all on the same side of the valley. Last evening the answer came from across the broad desert. They have come over, therefore, and are hastening up the chain to join the eager advance here so close to their hiding place. Be yond a doubt watchful spies are al ready lurking among those heights to the west, striving to get close enongb to peer into the rocky fortress and esti mate the strength of the garrison. Great they well know it cannot be. for did not their keen eyes count nearly 20 chasing those hated brigands far down toward Sonora pass, and of that num ber how many have returned? Only three. Did they not see the flurry and excitement when that sergeant was shot from ambush ? Now, therefore, is the time to strike—now, while the main body is far away. Whatsoever booty there may be obtainable in that rocky canyon ’tis well worth the attempt. And so from north to south the puff balls of blue white smoke go sailing upward through the pines, and it all means speed! speed! At 7 o'clock the little command has had coffee and a hearty breakfast. No lack of provender here in this hitherto undiscovered robbers' roost. Drum mond, cool, confident, bus had his men about him where none others could see or hear, has assigned them the stations which they are to take the instant of alarm and has given them their instruc tions. Walsh it is who is now on look out, and he is-peering away down south ward so intently that some comrade is prompted to call up to him in a low tone: “See anything?” To which, without removing the glass from under his hat brim, the Irish trooper merely shakes his head. “Any more smokes?" “Sorra a smoke have I seen at all. ’’ "Well, then, what in blazes are you staring at?” “How can I tell ye till I find out?” is the Hibernian reply, and this is enough to send the corporal on a climb. Drum mond at the moment is again kneeling by Wing, who has but just awakened from a fitful sleep, Mias Harvey being the first to hear him stir and sigh. Ruth and her sister, too, seem about to withdraw, but Wing, whose voice ts weak now, begs them to remain. “ Has anything been seen yet—back on the trail—of the Stoueman party?” he asks. “No, sergeant," replies Drummond, “but remember that we can only see some six miles of the trail, after that it is lost in that tortuous ravine down which we rode on the chase. Walsh is up there on lookout, and I’ll ask if h« can see anything now, ” and calling to one of the men Drummond bids him inquire. All eagerly a Wait the reply. At last it comes i * “No dust on the back track, sir, but something that looks like it tar to the south. We think it may be some of our fellows coming back, but it ia too faint and far to make it out yet. ” The corporal is the speaker, his reso nant voice contrasting strongly with the feeble accents of his immediate supe rior, the wounded sergeant “Then I have something that must be told you, lieutenant, something Miss Harvey already has an inkling of, for she has met and known my dear moth er. If this pain continues to increase, and fever sets in, I may be unable to tell it later. Some of the men thought I bad enlisted under an alias, lieuten ant but they were wrong. Wing is my rightful name. My father was chief officer of the old Flying Cloud in the days when American clipper ships beat the world. The gold fever seized him, though, and he quit sail ing and went to mining in the early days of San Francisco, and there when I was a little boy of 10 he died, leaving mother with not many thousand dol lars to take care of herself and me. •You will have your brother to help you' were words he spoke the last day of his life, and even then I noted how little comfort mother seemed to find in that fact It was only a few months after father’s death that Uncle Fred, from being an occasional visitor, came to living With us all the time—made his home there, though seldom wtthin doors night or day. He was several years younger than mother. He was the youngest it seems, of the family, ’the baby,’ and had been petted and spoiled from earliest infancy. I soon found why he came. Mother was often in tears, Uncle Fred always begging or dmandlw umbp. Tfet fewu* k*9o1 twlttea me snout my gamoier uncie, though I've no doubt their fathers gam bled as much as he. These were just before the early days of the great war that sprang up in 1861 and that we boys out on the Pacific coast only vaguely understood. Sometimes Uncle Fred came home drunk, and I could hear him threatening poor mot her, and things went from bad to worse, and one night when I was just 13 1 was awakened from sound sleep by her scream. In an instant I flew to her room, catching np as I ran father’s old bowie knife that always hung by my door. In the dim light I saw her lying by the bedside, a man bending over and choking her. With all my strength I slashed at him just as he turned. I meant to kill, but the turn saved him. He sprang to bis feet with an oath and cr> and rushed to the washstand. I had laid Uncle Fred’s cheek open from ear to chin. “It was long before mother could check the flow of the blood. It sobered him, of course, and made him pitoously weak. For days after that she nursed and cared for him, but forbade my en tering the room. Men came to see him —insisted on seeing him—and she would send me to the bank for gold and pay their claims and bid them go. At last he was able to walk out with that awful slash on his thin white face. Once then he met and cursed me, but I did not mind—I had acted only to save mother. How could 1 sup pose that her assailant was her own brother? Then finally with sobs and tears she told me the story, bow he had been their mother’s darling, how wild and reckless was his youth, how her mother's last thought seemed to be for him, and how on her knees she, my own mother, promised to take care of poor Freddie and shield him from every ill, and this promise she repeated to me, bidding me help her keep it and to con ceal as far as I could her brother’s mis deeds. For a few months things wen* a little better. Uncle Fred got a com mission in a California regiment toward the close of the war and was sent down to Arizona. Then came more tears and trouble. I couldn't understand it all then, but I do now. Uncle Fred was gambling again, drawing on her for means to meet his losses. Tbs old home went under the hammer, and we moved down to San Diego, where father had once invested and had left a little property. And then came the news that Uncle Fred had been dismissed, all on account of drink and gambling and misappropriation of funds. Miss Har vey knows all about this, lieutenant, for mother told her and had reason to. And next came forgery, and we were stranded. We heard that he had gone after that with a wagon train to Texas. I got employment on a ranch, and then mother married again, married a man who had long befriended us and who could give her a comfortable home. She is now Mrs. Malcolm Bland of San Francisco, and Mr. Bland offered to take me into his store, but I loved the open air and independence. Mr. Bland and Mr. Harvey had business relations, and when Uncle Fred was next heard from he was ‘starving to death,’ be said, 'actually dying.’ He wrote to mother from Yuma. Mother wired me to go to him at once, and I did. He was considerably out at elbows, but in no desperate need yet. Just then Mr.Har vey offered him a good salary to take charge of his freight train. We all knew how that must have been brought about, and I felt that it would only be a matter of time when he would rob his new employer. He did and was discharged, but Mr. Bland made the amount good, and the matter was hush ed up. Then he drove stage awhile and then disappeared. Mother has written me time and again to find him or find out what has become of him, and I promised 1 would leave no stone un turned. Tell her I have kept my word. Tell her I found him. Bnt tell her, for God's sake, to think uo more of him. Tell her not to strive to find him or to ask what he is or even where he ia, be yond that he has gone to Sonora. ” “Lieutenant," said Patterson, sud denly appearing at the opening, “could you step here a moment?” Drummond springs up. “One moment, Mr. Drummond,” whispers Wing weakly. “I must say one word to you—alone. ” “I’ll return in a minute, sergeant. Let me see what Patterson wants. ” Mias Harvey and Ruth have risen. The former is very pale and evidently trembling under some strong emotion. Once more she bends over him. "Drink this, Mr. Wing, and now talk no more than you absolutely have to." Then renewing the cooling bandage on his forehead her hands seem to lin ger—surely her eyes do—as she rises once more to her feet. Meantime the lieutenant has stepped out into the canyon. “What is it, Patterson? Quick!” “That was some of our fellows, sir, a squad of four, but they turned all of Down on his knees he pees, a sudden and galloped back out of sight It looks to me as though they were at tacked. ” “How far away were they? How many miles down the desert?" "Oh, at least six or eight miles down, sir; down beyond where you met them yesterday." "How about our trail? Anybody in sight there?” “Nobody, sir,.not a thing, not even a whiff of dust ” “ Very welt Keep on the alert. It’s good to know that all the Apaches are not around us yet. Neither bullet nor arrow can get down here so long as we man the rocks above. I’ll be out in a moment ’’ Then once more he kneels by Wing. “Lieutenant, did you ever see a girl behave with greater bravery? Do you know what she has undergone—Miss Harvey, I mean?” “Both are behaving like heroines, Wine, and 1 think I am beKUmJhg.te see through this plot at last. “ "Never let mother know it—promise me, sir—but when Harvi y discharged him—my uncle, I mean—ho swore he’d be revenged on the old man, and 'twas he” “The double dyed villain! 1 know, I understand now, Wing; yon needn’t tell me. He has been in the pay of the Morales gang for months. He enlisted so as to learn all the movements of officers and scouting parties. He en listed under his benefactor's name. He has forged that, too, in all proba bility, and then deserting it was he who sought to carry away these pre cious girls, and he came within an ace of succeeding. By the Eternal, bnt there will be a day of reckoning for him if ever C troop runs foul of him again! No wonder you couldn't sleep, poor fel low, for thinking of that mother. This caps the climax of his scouudrelism. Where—when did you see him last? Since he enlisted ?” But now Wing’s face Is again avert ed. He is covering it with his arms. "Wing,answer me!” exclaims Drum mond, springing suddenly to his feet “By heaven, 1 demand to know!" Then down on his knees he goes again, seiz ing and striving to pull away the near est arm. "You need not try, you can not conceal it now. I see it all—all. Miss Harvey,” he cries, looking up in to the face of the trembling girl, who has hastened in at sound of the excite ment in bis voice—“Miss Harvey, think of it; 'twas no Apache who shot him, 'twas a worse savage—his own uncle. ” “Promise me mother shall not know,” pleads poor Wing, striving to rise upon his elbow, striving to restrain the lieutenant, who again has started to his feet. “Promise me, Miss Fan ny; you know how she loved him, how she plead with you.” "1 promise you this. Wing,” says Drummond, through his clinching teeth, “that there’ll bo no time for prayer if ever we set eyes on him again. There’11 be no mercy.” “ You can't let your men kill him in cold blood, lieutenant. 1 could not shoot him. ” “No; but, by the ®od of heaven, 1 could!” And now as Wing, exhausted, sinks back to his couch his head is caught on Fanny Harvey’s arm and next is pil lowed in her lap. ’ ‘ Hush 1 ’ ’ she murmurs, bending down over him as a mother might over sleep ing child. “Hush! you must not speak again. 1 know how her heart is bound up in you, and I’m to play mother to you now.” And as Drummond, tingling all over with wrath and excitement,stands spell bound for the moment, a light step comes to his 41e, a little hand is laid on the bandaged arm, and Ruth Harvey’s pretty face, two big tears trickling down her cheeks, is looking up in his. "You, too, will be ill, Mr. Drum mond. Oh, why can’t you go and lie down and rest? What will we do if both of you are down at once with fever?” She is younger by over two years than her brave sister. Jail though she has grown, Ruth is but a child, and now in all her excitement and anxiety, worn out with the long strain, she be gins to cry. She strives to hide it, strives to control the weaknees, and failing in both strives to turn away. All to no purpose. An arm in a sling is of little avail at such a mo ment. Whirling quickly about, Drum mond brings his other into action. Be fore tne weeping uttie mam is wen aware what is happening her waist is encircled by the strong arm in the dark blue sleeve, and how can she see that she is drawn to his breast, since now her face is buried in both her hands and those hands in the flannel of his hunt ing shirt—just as high as his heart ? Small wonder is it that Corporal Coe- tigan, hurrying in at the mouth of the cave, stops short at sight of this pic turesque partie carree. Any other time he would have sense enough to face about and tiptoe whence be came, but now there's no room left for sentiment Tableaux vivants are lovely in their way, even in a cave lighted dimly by a hurricane lamp, but sterner scenes are on the curtain. Drummond’s voice is murmuring soothing, yes, caressing words to his sobbing captive. Drum mond’s bearded lips, unrebuked, are actually pressing a kiss upon that child ish brow when Costigan, with a prelim inary clearing of his throat that sounds like a landslide and makes the rock walls ring again, startles Ruth from her blissful woe and brings Drummond leaping to the mouth of the cave. "Lieutenant, there’s something com ing out over our trail. ” "Thank Godl” sighs Wing, as be raises his eyes to those of his fair nurse. "Thank God, for your sakes!” “Thank God, Ruth!” cries Fanny, extending one hand to her sister while the other is unaccountably detained. “Thank God! it’s father and the Stone- man party and Dr. Gray. ” And Ruth, throwing herself upon her knees by her sfster’z sida, buries her head upon her shoulder and sobs anew for very joy. And then comes sudden start. All in an instant there rings, echoing down the canyon, the sharp, spiteful crack of rifles, answered by shrieks of terror from the cave where lie the Moreno women and by other shots out along the range. Three faces blanch with sudden fear, though Wing looks instant ly up to say: “They can’t harm you, and our men will be here in lees than no time. ” Out in the gorge men are springing to their feet and seizing their ready arms; horses are snorting and stamp ing, mules braying in wild terror. Two of the ambulance mules, breaking loose from their fastenings, come charging down the resounding rock, nearly an nihilating Moreno, who, bound and helpless, praying and cursing by turns, has rolled himself out of bis nook and lies squarely in tho way of everything and everybody. But above all the clamor, the ring of carbine, the hiss and spat of lead flattening upon the rocks, Drummond’s voice is heard clear and commanding, serene and confident. “Every man to his post now. Re member your orders. ” Gazing out into the canyon with di lated eyes, Ruth sees him nimbly clam ber np the opposite side toward the point where Walsh is kneeling behind a rock—Walsh with his Irish mug ex panded in a grin sf delight, the smoke just drifting from the muzzle of his carbine as he points with his left band somewhere out along the cliffs. She sees her soldier boy, crouching low, draw himself to Walsh's side, sees him glancing eagerly over the rocks, then —p. uwi! mn i,*. Kt^-nallhg to some one on tneir own ! nide, pointing here and there along the wooded slope beyond her vision; sees him now, with fierce light in his eyes, suddenly clutch Walsh's sleeve and nod toward some invisible object to the She secs Mm clutch Walsh's slcci'e and nod toward some object to the south south; sees Walsh toss the butt of his carbine to the shoulder and with qnick aim send a bullet driving thither; sees Drummond take the fieldglass, and, resting it on the eastward ledge gaze long and fixedly out over the eastward way; sees him start, draw back the glass, wipe the lenses with his silken kerchief, then peer again; sees him drop them with a gesture almost tragic, but she cannot hear the moan that risca to bis lips: “My God, those are Apaches too!” CHAPTER XI. Ten o'clock on a blazing Arizona morning. The hot sun is pouring down upon the jagged front of a range of heights where occasional clumps of pine and cedar, scrub oak and juuiper.seem- ed the only vegetable products hardy enough to withstand tho alternations of intense heat by day and moderate cold by night, or to find sufficient sustenance to eke out a living on so barren a soil. Out to the eastward, stretching away to an opposite range, lies a sandy des ert dieted at wide intervals with little block bunches of “scrub mesquite" and blessed with only one redeeming patch of foliage, the copse of willows and cottonwood here at the mouth of a rock ribbed defile where a little brook, rising heaven knows how or where among tho heights to the west, comes frothing and tumbling down through the windings of the gorge only to bury itself in the burning sands beyond the shade. So narrow and tortuous is the canyon, so precipitous its sides, as to prove conclusively that by no slow proc ess, but by some sudden spasm of na ture, was it rent in the face of the range. And hero in its depths, just around one of the i|larpest bends, honey combed out of Aie solid rock, are half a dozen deep lateral fissures and caves where the sunbeams never penetrate, where the air is reasonably cool and still, where on this scorching May morn ing, fur away from home and relatives, two young girls are sheltered by the natural roofs and walls against tho fiery sunshine and by a little band of reso lute men against the fury of the Auaches. [TO BB OONTUTOTO.] A man was arraigned in a London court for creating a nuisance by play ing a bagpipe. The court ruled that the bagpipe is a musical Instrument, and he went scot free. Whether or not the decision is a musical one is a ques tion. Twelve steel plates from designs for illustrations to "Pickwick, ” made near ly half a century ago by Onwhyn, have been discovered in London, and prints from them have been published. «»W.B.McGIRl,D.D.S.,«A Offers his professional sei vices t* the people of Darlington and vicln'ty. Office over the store of Edwards, s c ment & Co. Jan 19,’90—lv Manutacturers —OF— Doors, Sash, Blinds, :m:otjx.:d juntos —AND- Building Material, ESTABLISHED 1842. CHARLESTON, 8. C. (CHARLESTON, SUMTER ~AND ^ NORTHERN RAILROAD CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver In Effect Jan. 16. 1894 NORTH. SOUTH. 1 2 AM. P.M. Lv 7.30 Charleston 8.45 Ar 8.40 Pregnall’s 7.27 10.47 Sumter 5.27 12.05 Darlington 4.12 12 56 Beimettsville 8.21 1.20 Gibson 2.57 1.47 Hamlet 2.30 Ar 6.00 Raleigh 10.15 Lv P.M. P.M. No. 1 connnects with Seaboard Air Line at Hamlet for Raleigh Wilmington, Charlotte, Shel by. Routherfordton ; and at Charlotte with R. A I). Vestibule Limited for Washington and New York. Passen gers can take sleepers at Charlotte at 3 :39 p. m. No. 2 passengers by this train have through Sleepers. New York to Char lotte, connects with 8. A. L. at Ham let from Charlotte, Raleigh and North, and from Wilmington, con nects with S.C. Ry. at Pregnalls for harleston, Columbia, Angugta and the West. Dinner at Hamlet. C. MILLARD, Superintendent c. it D. and C. St S. RAILROADS. In effect Dec 3, 1893. Through Passenger Train. Leave Wad**abort) 4.30 a m Bennett’s 4.51 a m Morven’s... . 5.04 a in McFarland . 5 17 a in Cheraw 6.00 a m Cash's 6.12 a m Society Hill 6.26 a m Dove’s 6.44 a m Floyd’s 6.49 a m Darlington 7.00 a iti Palmetto Arrive Florence Leave Florence Palmetto 7.28 p m Darlington - 7.38 p m Floyd’s 7.50 p in Dove’s 7 55 p in Sqciety Hill 8 13 p m Casti’s 8.27 p m Cheraw 8.50 p m McFarland 9.13 p m Morven’s 9.39 p m Bennett’s 9.54 p in Arrive Wadesboro 10.15 p m Freight Train. Leave Florence 7.30 a m Darlington 8.40 a in Arrive Cheiaw .11.20 a in Leave Cheraw 1.00 p m Darlington 4.00 p m Arrive Florence 6.00 p ra A. F. RAVENEL, President. |KTORTHEA8TERN RAILROAD. i.V In effect Jan. 11, 1894. SOUTH BOUND. No. 61 Leave Florence 7.45 a in Kingstree 8.58 a iu Lanes 0.20 a in Arrive Charleston 11.20 a in No. 35. Leave Florence 8.37 a m Lanes 4.52 a m Arrive Charleston 6.50 a m No. 23. Leave Florence 7.25 p m Kingstree 8.37 p m Lanes 9.00 i> m Arrive Charleston .11.00 p m No. 53. Leave Lanes 7.05 p m Arrive Charleston 8.45 p m Train on C. St D. R. R. connects at Florence with No. 61 Train. NORTH BOUND. No. 78. Leave Charleston Lanes 5.30 a m Kingstree 5.52 a m Arrive Florence 7.10 a m No. 60 Leave Charleston . 6 00 p m Lanes . 7.05 p.m Kingstree 7.25 p w Arrive Florence . 8.50 p m No. 14. Leave Charleston 3.30 p m Lanes 5.29 p in Kingstree 5.45 p m Arrive Florence 6.45 p m No. 62. Leave Charleston 7.00 a m Arrive Lanes . 8.35 am No. 62 runs through to Columbia via Central R. R. of S. C. No. 78 runs solid to Wilming ton, N. C., making close connection with W. & W. R. R. for all point* North. Train No. 14 runs via Wilson and Favetteville—Short Line—and makes close connection for all points North. J. F. DIVINE, Gen. Supt. vv ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA ft AUGUSTA RALROAD. In effect Dec. 8, 1893. SOUTH BOVHD. No. 65. Leave Wilmington 3.20 pm Marion 6.11 p m Arrive Florence 6.50 p m No. 50. Leave Florence 7.10 p m Sumter 8.28 p in Arrive Columbia 10.00 p m No. 58. Leave Florence 7.45 a m Arrive Sumter 9 20 a m No. 52. Leave Sumter 9.53 a m Arrive Columbia 11.06 a m April, 2o 18!'3—1 EAGLE BRAND No. 52 runs through from Charles ton via Central Railroad; leaving Lanes 8.40 a m, Manning 9 18 a m. NORTH BOUND. THE BEST ROOFING Is unequalled for house, barn, fact ory or out-buildings, and costs half the price of shingles, tin or iron. It is reaily for use and easily applied by anyone. RUBBER PAlNT costs on ly 60 cents per gallon in barrel lots, or $1.50 for 5 gallon tubs. Color dark red. Will stop leaks in tin or iron roofs that will last for years. Try it. Send stamp for samples and particu lars. Excelsior Paint and Roofing Co., 155 DUANE ST., NEW YORK, N. Y. Dec 28—2m. TTART8VILLE RAILROAD. ** In effect Dec 8, 1893. DAILY MIXED TRAIN Leave Hartsvllle 6.00 a m Jovaun 6.20 a m Floyd’s 6.35 a m ArriveDarlington 7.20 a m Leave Darlington 6.30 p m Floyd’s 8.00 p m Jovann— 8.2U p m Arrrive Hartsvilie 8.40 p m J, F, DIVINE, Gen. Supt. Leave Columbia Sumter Arrive Florence Leave Florence Marion Arrive Wilmington. Leave Colombia Arrive Snmter Leave Colombia... Snmter Arrive Florence— No. 51. 4.30 a m 5 57 a m 7.15 a m No. 56. . 7.40 a m . 8.28 a m •11.10 a in No. 53. 4.20 pm 5.35 p in No. 59. .. 5.45 p m .. 6.55 p in No. 63 runs thiougu no i narleston via central Railroad, arriving Man ning 6.15 p m, Lanes 7.00 p m, charleston 8.45 p m. Trains on Manchester and Angusta B. R-, leave Snmter daily except Sun day, 10.50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a. in. Retnrning leave Rimini 1.00 p. m.. arrive Sumter 2:10 p. m. Trains on Wilmington, Cbadboura and Conway Railroad leave Chad- bourn at 10.10 a m, arrive at Conway 12.30 p m, retnrning leave Conway at 2:00 p. m.. arrive Chadbcurn 4:50 p. m. Leave Chadboom 7.00 a m and 5.15 p m, arrive at Hub 7 45 a m and 6.00 pm. Returning leave Hub 8.16 a m and 6.80 p m, arrive at Chadbouro 9.00 a m and 7.15 p m. Dally except Sunday. JOHN F, DIVINE. Owl Sup’t,