Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 96: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

278 them at all. He was in the saddle and racing . past the ranch-house by the time Chick and Cabby recovered from their shock and got to the barn door. ‘What in blue blazes!” gasped Chick. “Search me!” muttered the dazed Cabby, watching the flying horseman. Zach’s watch had indicated five minutes to one. Her train was scheduled te leave Janesville siding at one fifty. Could he make the ten miles over the hill to see her? Could his wiry, faithful pony carry him over that dusty, grilling divide and on through the sandy road of Honey Lake Valley in fifty-five minutes? “You gotta do it, Pete, ol’ hoss! You jest gotta do it!” declared Zach through clenched teeth. Down the lane and over the five-barred gate sailed Pete; there was a springiness in his steel-muscled action which thrilled Zach. He patted the pony’s glossy neck encouragingly. ‘“‘ Loosen up, Pete, while the goin’s good. We’ré hittin’: a hard trail bimeby, lil ol’ hoss.”’ Over the level road-bed of Crumpled Creek Valley the horse skimmed with the fleetness of a greyhound. At the foot of the grade Zach pulled up a bit and Pete swung into a dog trot up the winding road. Zach looked at his watch—five miles covered and the minute-hand pointed to twenty minutes past the hour. From the crest of the divide the road dipped in a series of loeps to the floor of Honey Lake Valley. on the summit and then away sprang the pony, bounding down the slope, sure-footed and swift—qualities which had endeared him to Zach. On through the heavy sand, breath whistling through distended nostrils and flecks of foam lathering neck, flanks and withers. A whistle screeched. Zach bent low in the saddle. “We've gotta beat the train in, Pete!” The wiry cow-pony’s hoofs thudded faster over the sandy road-bed. A second whistle sounded just as Zach galloped inte the shade of the cotton-woods back of the water-tank, and the engine came to a grinding halt at the station. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. There was a brief breathing spell Zach reached for his kerchief and mopped the lather from Pete’s dripping withers. There was a little group of people moving toward the ceach at the end of the string of freight-cars. Zach’s quick eyes discov- ered Miss Mirabelle surrounded by her little band of pupils. The sight of her set his head in a whirl, stirred up a pounding of his heart. It was he who had driven her away from Crumpled Creek Valley by an outrageous piece of tomfoolery. Zach watched her, caught the tilt of her adorable head, the poise of her dainty shoulders. He groaned aloud. What could he say, now that he had ridden like mad to see her? She had reached the coach, was standing _ at the foot of the steps. Her pupils were kissing her good-by. Zach trembled from head to foot, yet he could not muster the courage to go to her. Then a great wave of embarrassment surged over him. She was looking his way! ‘A small boy detached himself from the group and scampered teward him. Zach could scarcely believe his ears when the youngster shrilled: ‘ Teacher, she wants you!” Zach slapped spurs to his horse. He made a flying leap to the ground and stag- gered to her side. His eyes drooped be- fore her candid gaze. ‘““Mr. Marsden, I have just heard the news! Tell me, please, is it true?’’ she said, bending toward him, eagerly, expec- tantly. - “You mean—”’ he faltered. ‘That you have taken charge of the cir- cus? That you are to be the manager? Oh, Mr. Marsden, is it true?” She was breath- lessly interested. “They was nothin’ else to do, Miss Mira —er—Miss Dutton. Seemed like it was plumb wished onto me. I’m powerful sorry you're leavin’, Miss Mirabelle. I didn’t aim to git you talked about. I’m powerful sorry—”’ ‘““T know that you are, Mr. Marsden. But don’t you see, I couldn’t stay here now. We will forget all about that—it really doesn’t matter. I do wish to congratulate you. What you are doing proves that you COMIC OOS COM S