Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, June 5, 1914, Page 2

A Stirring Story Mexican Revolution “But, senor!” burst out Aragon—and he voiced his rabid protests again, while sudden faces appeared in the windows and wide-eyed peons stood gawking in a crowd. But De Lancey was equally firm, though he glimpsed for the first time the adorable face of La Gracia as she stared at him from be- hind the bars. “No, senor,” he said, “you are mis- taken. The land was declared forfeit for non-payment of taxes by the min- ister of Fomento and thrown open for location. We have located it—that is all.” For a minute Don Cipriano stood looking at him, his black eyes heavy with rage; then hie anger seemed to fall away from him and he wiped the sweat from his brow, “Very well,” he said at last, “T per- | celve that you are a gentleman and have acted in good faith—it is only that that fellow Mendez has deceived you. Let it pass, then—I will not quarrel with you, my friend—it is the fortune of war. But stop at my store when you go by and come and see me. It is indeed lonely here at times, and perhaps I can pass a pleasant hour with you. My name, senor, is Don Cipriano Aragon y Tres Palacios—and yours?” He held out his hand with a little gesture, “Philip De Lancey,” replied Phil. clasping the proffered hand; and with many expressions of good-will and esteem, with a touching of hats and a wiggling of fingers from the distance, | they parted, in spite ot Bud, the best of friends. CHAPTER VIIL. There are some people in this world with whom it seems impossible to quar- rel, notably the parents of attractive daughters. Perhaps, if Gracia Aragon had not been watching him from the window Philip De Lancey would not have been quite so cordial with her father—at least, that was what Hooker thought, and he was 8o badly peeved at the way things had gone that he sald it, too. Then, of course, they quarreled, and, one thing leading to another, Phil told ‘Bud he had a very low way of speak- ing. Bud replied that, whatever his deficiencies of speech might be, he 'was not fool enough to be drawn in 'by & skirt, and Phil rebuked him again. Then, with a secornful grunt, Bud Hooker rode on in silence and they sald no more about it. It was a gay life that they led at might for the Fortuna hotel was filled with men of their kind, since all the 'stald married men had either moved across the line with their families or 'were under orders to come straight home. In the daytime the hotel was nearly deserted, for every man in town was working for the company; but in the evening, when they gathered around the massive stove, it was a merry com- pany indeed. There were college men, full of good stories and stories not so good, world- wanderers and adventurers with such tales of the Kast anl West as never have been written in books. But not a college boy could match stories with Phil De Lancey, and few wanderers there were who could tell him any- thing new about Mexico. Also, when it came to popular songs, he knew both the words and the tune. So he was much in demand, and Don Juan passed many drinks across the bar be- cause of him. In all such festivities the two pard- ners stayed together; Bud, with a broad, indulgent grin, listening to the end, and Phil, his eyes alight with Mquor and good cheer, talking and laughing far into the night. Outside the winter winds were still cold and the Mexicans went wrapped to the eyebrows; but within the merry company was slow to quit, and Phil, making up for the lonely months when he had entirely lacked an audi- ence, eat long In the seat of honor and was always the last to go. But on the evening after their spat Bud sat off to one side, and even Phil's sprightly and ventriloquistic conversa- tion with the-little-girl-behind-the-door called forth only a fleeting smile. Bud was thinking, and when en- gaged in that arduous occupation even the saucy little girl behind the door t beguile him. ut, after he had studied it all out and com to a definite conclusion, he did not ¢ an ultimatum. The old, good-nat ifle simply came back to his zed face; he rolled a cigar- ette; and then for the rest of the eve- ning he lay back and enjoyed the ghow. Ounly in the morning, when get their | war-bag with he sad h after throwti \\‘ at * Inq his canvas-covered bed for an answer. ‘Then, with a heave, he snaked it out of the harnessroom where it had been stored and slung it deftly across the pack-saddle. - “Why, what's the matter?” sald De THE EVENING TELEGRAM LAKELAND, FLA., of the Lancey, when they were on their way; “don't you like the hotel?” “Hotel's fine,” conceded Bud, “but I reckon I'd better camp out at the mine. Want to keep my eye on that Mexican of ours.” “Aw, he's all right!” protested Phil. “Sure,” said Bud; “I ain't afraid he’ll steal something—but he might take a notion to quit the country.” “Why, what for?’ challenged De Lancey. “He's got his wife and family here.” “That's nothing—to a Mexican!” countered Bud, “But I ain’t figuring on the excuse he'd give—that won't buy me nothing—what I want to do is to keep him from going. Because if we lose that Mex now, we lose our mine.” “And—" “No ‘and’ to it,” said Bud doggedly. “We ain't going to lose him.” “But if we did,” persisted De Lan- cey, “why, then you think—" “Your friend would get it,” finished Hooker grimly. “Ah, 1 see” nodded De Lancey, | noting the accent on “friend.” “You don't npprove of my making friends ' with Aragon.” “Oh, that's all right,” shrugged the big cowboy; “it won't make no dlfler- ence now. Go ahead, if you want to.” “You mean you can get along with- | out me?” “No,’ angwered Bud, “I don't mean nothing—except what I say. If you want to palaver around with Aragon, go to it. I'll round up Mendez and his family and keep 'em right there at the mine until we get them papers signed —after that I don’t care what hap- pens.” “Oh, all right,” murmured De Lan- cey in a subdued tone; but if his con- sclence smote him for the moment it did not lead to the making of any sen- timental New Year's resolutions, for he stopped when he came to the store and exchanged salutations with Ara- gon, who was lounging expectantly be- fore his door. “Buenos dias, Don Cipriano!” he hailed. “How are you this morning?” “Ah, good morning, Don Felipe,” re- sponded Aragon, stepping forth from the shadow of the door. “I am very well, thank you—and you?”’ “The same!” answered Phil, as if it were a great plece of news. “It {8 fine weather—no?* “Yes, but a little dry!” said Aragon, and so they passed it back and forth in the accepted Spanish manner, while Bud hooked one leg over the horn of his saddle and regarded the hacienda with languid eyes. But as his gaze swept the length of | the vine-covered corredor it halted for a moment and a slow smile came over his face. In the green depths of a passion-flower vine he had detected a quick, birdllke motion; and then suddenly, like a transformation scene, he beheld a merry face, framed and [ nn;u';wfi (’L i Mu (Capyright, 1914, by Frank A. The Land of Broken Promises By DANE COOLIDGE Author of “THE FIGHTING FOOL,” “HIDDEN WATERS," “THE TEXICAN," Etc. Nlustrations by DON J. LAVIN JUNE 5, 1914, Munsey.) then ride on his way, but somehow his heart stood still when he met her eyes, and his days became filled with a pensive, brooding melancholy. “What the matter, Bud?” rallled Phil, after he had jollied him for a week; “you're getting mighty quiet’ lately. Got another hunch—Ilike that one you had up at Agua Negra?” “Nope,” grinned Bud; “but I'll tell you one thing—Iif old Aragon don't spring something pretty soon I'm go-| ing to get uneasy. He's too dog-goned good-natured about this.” “Maybe he thinks we're stuck,” sug. gested De Lancey. “Well, he's awful happy about some- thing,” said Bud. “I can see by the way he droops that game eye of his—; and smiles that way—that he knows we're working for him. If we don’t get a title to this mine, every tap of work we do on it is all to the good for him, that’s a cinch. So sit down now and think it out—where's the | joker?” “Well,” mused Phil, “the gold is here somewhere. He knows we're not fooled there. And he knows we're right after it, the way we're driving this cut in. Our permit is good—he hasn't tried to buffalo Mendez—and | it's a cinch he can't denounce the claim himself.” “Maybe he figures on letting us do all the work and pay all the denounre-‘ ment fees and then spring something big on old One-Eye,” propounded Bud. “Scare 'im up or buy 'im off, and have him transfer the title to him. That's the way he worked Kruger.” “Well, say,” urged Phil, “let’'s go ahead with our denouncement before he starts something. DBeeides, the warm weather is coming on now, and if we don’t get a move on we're likely to get run out by the revoltosos.” “Nope,” said Bud; “I don’t put this into Mendez's hands until I know he's our man—and if I ever do go ahead I'll keep him under my six-shooter until the last paper is signed, believe me. 1 know we're in bad somewhere, but hurrying up won't help none, “Now I tell you what we'll do—you go to the mining agent and get copies of all our papers and send them up to that Gadsden lawyer. I'm going to go down and board with Mendez and see it I can read his heart.” So they separated, and while Phil stayed in town to look over the rec- ords Bud ate his beans and, tortillas with the Mendez family. They were a happy little family, comfortably installed in the stone house that Mendez had bullt, and rap- idly getting fat on three full meals a day. From his tent farther up the canyon Bud could look down and watch the children at play and see the | comely Indlan wife as she cooked by the open fire, Certainly no one could be more in- nocent and contented than she was, and El Tuerto was all bows and pro- testations of gratitude. And yet, you never can tell. Bud had moved out of the new house to furnish quarters for El Tuerto and had favored him in every way; but this same consideration might easily be misinterpreted, for the are slow to understand kindness. So, while on the one hand he had treated them generously, he had al- ways Kept his distance, It Was a Merry Company, Indeed. ing out at him from among the blos- soms. Except for that brief smile he made no sign that he saw her, and when he looked up again the face had disappeared. Don Cipriano showed them about his mescal plant, where his men kept a continual s 10f1 i 1 from the copper a raw drink; bu gazed h praised z | ldle on | lottom, he did the same for | are you going to pack out, | lired Phil, and Bud slapped | over the ll, S tality ¢ d ther, and the vis ended ina s dioses and 1 commented Phil, as the n 1d | Ur broo rode masked smiled a at w ‘ cia Aragon affected ther n all He did not point out the place to | ‘ Phil, nor betray her by he did was to glance At _her once and SR s | {lluminated by soft, golden locks, peer- | any sign. All | tempted to presume. But now, ‘ his meals with | awed to say | with the dogs and the children. I The way to the dog's heart was easy, almost direct, and he finally won the attention of little Pancho and Josefa with a well'worn Sunday supplement. Maria, stories and startling illustrations, had penetrated even to the wilds of Sonora, and every Sunday as regularly as the paper came Bud sat down and had his laugh over the funny page. | But to Pancho, who was six years old and curious, this same highly col- ! first woman—and one other. Mexicans | '} lest they be | with | ¢ i Phil in town for a few days, he took | who was too; a word, and made friends | i This gaudy institution, with its spicy | them so simple-hearted and good-na- tured, he became half ashamed of his early suspicions and waited for the return of Phil to explain Don Ciprk ano's complacency. But the next Sunday, as Bud lay reading in his tent, the mystery solved | itself, Cruz Mendez came up from the house, hat in hand and an apologeuc smile on his face, and after the cus-| tomary roundabout remarks he asked the boss as a favor if he would lend him the page of comic pictures. “Seguro!” assented Bud, rolling over and fumbling for the funny sheet; then, failing to find it instantly, he in- qu1red “What do you want it for?” “Ah, to show to my boy!” explained El Tuerto, his one eye lighting up with | pride. “Who—Pancho?” “Ah, no, senor,” simply, “my boy in La Fortuna, the one you have not seen.” Bud stopped fumbling for the paper and sat up suddenly. Here was a new light on their faithful servitor, and one that might easily take away from his value as a dummy locator. “Oh!” he said, and then: “How many children have you, Cruz?” Cruz smiled deprecatingly, as par- ents will, and turned away. “By which woman?" he inquired, and Bud became suddenly very calm, fear- ing the worst. For if Cruz was not legally married to Maria, he could not transfer the mining claim. “By all of them,” he said quietly. “Five in all,” returned Cruz—"three by Maria, as you know—two by my 1 do not count him.” “Well, you onc-eyed old reprobate!” muttered Bud in his throat, but he passed it off and returned smiling to the charge. “Where does your boy live now?” he asked with flattering solicitude, the better to make him talk, “and is he old enough to understand the pic- tures?” “Ah, yes!” beamed Mendez, “he is twelve years old. He lives with his mother now—and my little daughter, too. Their mamma {8 the woman of the mayordomo of the Senor Aragon— a bad man, very ugly—she is not mar- ried to him." “But with you—" suggested Bud, re- garding him with a steely stare. “Only by the judge!" exclaimed Mendez virtuously. “It was a love- match, and the priest did not come— s0 we were married by the judge. Then this bad mayordomo stole her away from me—the pig—and I mar ried Maria instead. Maria is a good woman and I married her before the priest—but I love my other children, too, even though they are not lawful.” (To Be Continued.) IN TH!? CIRCUIT COURT OF THE TEN DISTRICT OF THE 8 5 OF FOR THE COUNTY OF RY u, Christian vs, R CHRISTIAN--DIVORCE. | 1t appear by the affidavit of A | Erickson, s of record in the ahove e titled case, that Sarah Ponder Christian, the | defendant named in bill of complaint, is a sident of the State of Florida, and that S helieved o be the city of Florida, the | whom would bind that the lered that this orde L week for | .| Clerk A. JOHNSON of the Circuit Court Tel 2651 Fri The lice question is quickly | ored sheet was a mystery of mysteries, and when he saw the big American laughing he crept up and looked at it wistfully. “Mira," said Bud, upon the smirking visage of one of the | comic char: s, “look, and I will lcll | you the story.” | And so, with laborious care, he translated the colored fun, while the little Mendezes squirmed with excite- ! ment and leaped with joy. Even the sin Tuerto and Maria the comicas, and Men- inwrested that he t, the better ple souls of El wer moved by became learned to ex oy dez hery, Bud , finding HO Don't le flock. - PraZts | m 25¢ and 50¢ Refuse substitutes; insist on Pratts. 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