The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 6, 1901, Page 8

THE SUNDAY CALL. v Synopsis. ZEI.!.A BRUNNEN, & member of the Chicago fc Club end typewriter to aire, is insulted on her Abner Digges an and writer for the Digges draws a knife nocked dowp by & i, & Qetective, is case is dismissed with ce. Digges swears vengeance on s St proprietor and editor of pers. friend of Hiram gt an article Dexter takes a give -y sends G ver changes to € man is vir- for several tune and then Dexter. how- Digges by ed as soon n Dankes, at Digges inten- him to & As s00n as is news, she urope, buj in sets out for the y she makes a d lives in his = and proceeds to win Joseph Hatton. CHAPTER XXXIII—Continued. VER the look- €rs-on Digges said: “When € yonder at th I hadn’t much of a hincline and the like, and I'm god- ome to like the camp lkes; | said s and Zella turned to ng permitted him are, she begged for h the bowie, ws preity well every ; "and you just cot- Not so cleverly as you cotton to the gioves,” interrupted Zella, flattering his vanity “Now and ag’en there's a dodge and e lunge, and e felut and a defense with the gloves as ain't altogether new to a fghter with the bowle or the rapier. Not &s 1 know much about sword play; but a man l'erns & good deal, up and down the world, mixin' with fighters of all sorts. Yow, look ye here; gimme yer knife.” Zella picked up her jacket and took from the breast 2 rfv': changed your knife to yer hn".‘u.nd —a thing be never expects—and he's done The sheathed blade struck Zella in on of the heart. s es, 1 see,” she said, staggering, color leaving her face for a moment, to come back, hot and red. *‘But don’t you fasten the knife to your wrist?” ‘Seem to, mister, seem to; and that's what worrfes ver man. That's one dodge. All fair and square. You've a right to use all yer knows, and all yer experi- ence is ig another—what I calls the feint foxy. You loafs about—so; takin® ground here, and takin’ it thar. you seems to dodge and get nervous; but you defends all right, tho you makes yer men venturesome, Y, as they say; thinks he’s goin’ ter have yer, sure; then when you begins to puff he goes for you, Tadden, when he can't make you wur 2ll at once, lke hell. it'sa oerugn: never know'd it fail!'—you Jumps for him. catches him this way—and he up his eyes.” iz he hit Zells in the self-same spot; for & moment s Sharsatay pals and red. P ike fhe touch of 1t Sh?" learned the trick of small quantities, Digges was in an unusually good humor, ana Zella flattered him until the great brute fairly p the saloon counter. Rorty Jaggers and Rafferty Jones and others chimed in, and they were a merry party. Later Zo{la sat in at a game of poker. She wanted to obtain possession of Digges’ knife. She might, Jhave coaxed it out of him. at case she would have felt handicapped. She would like to win it from him or to ex- change it with her own. Over the game when there was a jack- pot which she felt sure of winning she said to her rival for it, who was Digges, the rest having withdrawn: “I dare say if T asked you to swap knives with me, you would?” ® ‘I reckon I might—or 1 mightn't. “T'd like to have the knife as a trophy; a e that has become famous; that, in- was famous to begin with. It would nice souvenir to take home when 1 as he lolled against rhaps, &0, “I've raised you ten doliars, * was his reply “T know.” said Zella, “and T'm going to ralse you out ol your boots—if T feel lk: it. But as 1 was saying. “What are we playin’, youngster?” “Drawpoker. But there ain’t no hurry. I've heard of a game being postponed until the next day, money and cards de- posited at the bankers. Now, look here, Digges, don't be ugly. This is what want to say. I'll raise you my knife against vours, with this understanding— that whichever takes the pot don’t keep the two knives, but exchanges.” ‘Exchanges, be damned!’ said Digges, “I raise you fhe limit, $20; and, on top o that, fiings in my knife ag'en yours. “You are very kind,” sald Zella, laying down her_ knife. “I'm a doggoned fool,” he replied. “But me for it, by thunder, I'd ef you'd ask a giv’ it you!" Igg laid it on the top of Zella's and the pile of bills and silver and gold, no very serious amount. with a $20 Iimit. hen I call you, Abner Digges.” The other players and a few lookers- craned their necks over the board. 'What have you got, Digges?” “I reckon that's a full king high!” lay- ing down his cards with an air of sati faction. i “No good against four aces, Abner, sald Zella. “And you drew two cards!—you!" he exclaimed, pushing back his chair and rising from = the table. “— take such luck? The air was sulphurous for a minute or two, with a blasphemy that need not be translated. ocketed the pool and t Digges knife into her belt. . Digges, don't be angry,” she said. " “You shall have your revenge—and you must Lave my knife. “Git!" sald Digges. “Don’t you come nigh me. Git!" “What for? Is :t the money you re- gret? Then, hang it, take it!” And she flung a pocketful back upon the table. “Don’t anger him, you young fool!” said Rafferty Jones. “Who cares about angering him?” she said. don’t want his tinpot knife, nor his dirty bill ew how {4r she could go. It was the first tiff she had had with Digges; would it be the last. ook here, boss, take my knife. That not nor was the bargain; I wouldn't have played otherwis: And perhaps 1t is too bad to llar knife, take it back.” Git! Before 1 bash you'!" he sald. time All right, aside. “He'll Gimme time! Don’t you see. Gimme bose,” she said, stepping get over it./with another drink; give him time,” advised Rorty Jaggers. 11 right, she said; and. taking out a cigar sat down and smoked and chat- with the camp generaily, and pres- sat in at amother game. It was at this point that Dave went to the Guich and told Dankes all that had urred; and Dankes stamped about the and in and out of the door, and en 3im howled in & hy at his heels wh kicked at the down the trail, to ‘To think that time with such a : the heaven f it goes on, he shall him ruined, perhaps with Digges or an- to me yet dear old . meecting him halfway quite myself.” think ye're ““Not qui e verself? I not, cavoort wi'_such s t. Dankes RS 1 don't quite 0 much rum, p'r'aps.” omon Dankes! What do you mean by daring even to think of such a thing, let _alone to say it?” I've hear'd on yer box 1 yer high jinks, as m: n’ and sparrin’ dear old pard would say, and yer drinkin’ with Digges and makin' him yer friend, and then wuarr'llin’ with him, and then But there! Good Lord, I'm too durned mad with yer for words B I've gotten something here, Dankes, she said, in a hushed voice, “that should set_your thoughts in another direction.”” “What have gotten? What's the matter with yer? “I'm worn out, T think,” she answered. “] should think so! Eh I didn’t care for yer and respect ver, and think much of yer, would it matter to me a wooden nut- meg what yer did? Whether yer was Digges’ friend, or his enemy, or whether yer stooped to his level, or others? * “Stop! stop! dear friend: you don't know what you're talking about. I'll ex- Jain to you. Don't turn against me. ‘ou'l] be fonder of me one day than you were of Ned Glover himself. “Shall 1! Well, they say miracles still PR aw your dear partner, the best fellow that ever lived, slain—" “"More’s the pity, I did; and by the very man you're— “Trat will do,” sald Zella. “I'm In mo humor to hear more in that vein at pres- ent. Here s the knife that robbed him of life. Take it, and go and kill his mur- derer, if you are so devilish brave and loved £0. . . . Ah, ah! I though ihat would touch you Bp. . . . Don get in my way. just a Dbit crazy myself to-night!” She ran past him and never stopped un- til che entered tne cabin. Then she flung open the door, rushed to her own room, fastened herself in, flung herself upon the ! 1 hour. bty 438 gy e i o 25 hont t, &8 he th er you' a’f&'&‘y‘& to my thinkin’ s is that way,” said but one gen and Sam, as nayther mule ;wr im. ' 300 and the was he?’ sald Dankes. “And uses take su ™ e o “Does ““Whin ey kin git it,’”” said Dave. “Then give a hand, and let's try and D'ye see that, tempt Mister Grey. . . . Dave?” see it.” “Yes, the same. Mister Grey just giv* it 1 “'l'!s like ter tickle Digges’ ribs with {t!” said Dave. “Lay the supper, Dave.” “Yes, boss.” CHAPTER XXXIV. DANKES APOLOGIZES, Denkes was up early the next morning. He had had a bad night. Zella had not slept well. Dankes felt remorseful. Zelia as resolved to Lave her cight hours’ sleep. She was in training for her tragic enterprise. Her latest effort of active v and the capture of Digges’ tired her. yer goin’' ter it up, Mister Grey?” Dankes asked her door. “I hear'n yer a-stirrin’, or I wouldn’t ha' spoke. nife.” I was mad night. Hope won't think any more 'bout what I “Oh! but I will,” came in a muffled owe)pb Hatton volce from under (h( bedclothes, though the weather was war: Aint sick, I hope? No; quité weil. 1 was used up last night.” I've a lot to tell you.” long as you ain't mad with me, it dear old Prudent.” I kin say mornin’, Mister Grey, eel kinder happy. There's a letter as I leavin’ on the table, I've b'en a-spellin’ through it. There aint nawthin’ that’s private in it; you can read it, if you feels disposed that ways, and advise what I've gotten to say by way.of an- swerin’ of it. It's from Richard Lotri- mer of London, Ned Glover's friend. “Very well, thank you, dear friend" said Zella. “Pull the door to after you. Wkhere's Dave?’ “He's out wi' Jim, after the mule. There's a feller comin’ to buy it, since you don't want to keep it.” “That’s all right. I shall give Dave the money. Good morning. Don’t keep sup- per waiting when you come home.” She raised herself on her elbow and lis- tened. The docr was shut. She heard Dankes moving off down the trail. Then she slid from her bunk, drew on her breeches, unfastened her door, and, en- tering the general room of the cabin, car- rled off the Jetter Dankes had spoken of, and climbed back into her berth. The letter was more of a private letter than one of a legal character. It was written on the noteheading of the firm of Straker, Love & Lorrimer; but it was signed “Richard Lorrimer,” and it was addressed to Solomon Dankes Esquire. It bore numerous postmarks, and had come by hand from the Forks, where let- ters for the Valley were left, to be called for., The mule wagons and the pack mules from time to time brought in any letters addressed to the Gulcl or the Valley. It had been a long time on the road. “You are, I understand, my friend, Ed- win Glover's partner. He has, in your keeping, certain stock in the Gulch enter- prise, certain stock in the Platts Valley Mines (the last-named endorsed to him by Hiram Dexter), certal oneys in specie, and a certain quantity of gold dust and nuggets. I am writing this at his request, in case he does not survive an encounter that has been forced upon him, he says, from which he feels that he will not come out alive. Glover {s my dearest friend, Next to me, he is attached to you; and has the fullest confidence .in your hon- or and good faith. He has forwarded a copy of his will, which, he tells me, has been duly executed, and is in the hands of his Chicago lawyers. He bequeaths all his possessions. existing and that may come to him hereafter, to his fiancee, Zel- la Brunnen, of the Boarding House, Par side, Chicago; and you and Mr. Storey, of the Chicago Daily Mall, are nominated as her trustees. Glover has previously written to me of his engagement to Miss Brunnen, and the happiness it gave him; and, if his instinct as to the encounter he speaks of has misled him, and he lives, 1 shall hope to welcome him and his wife in London; if, peradventure, he is dead— which God in heaven forbid—I shall de- sire to see her in town all the same, since no one else can so well assist her in car- rying out Glover's wishes, not simply in connection with his estate, but probably as to her future. It is a very strange thing for me to write this lejter, meet for either fortune; but T am simpiy act- Ing on the very strict and urgent direc- tions of my friend. You will be good enough to cable me if, alas are the surviving partner; if not, 3 hand t letter to my very dear friend.” Zella arose and dressed herself; unfas- tened her trunk. ok out Ned's pieture, ssed it. replaced it, flung open the door, oked out across the trail, listened to the sic of the summer air, humming with insect life, and watched a brace of butter- flies of many hues dancing in the sun. It was all very beautiful. The barking of Jim roused her. The terrier came bounding out of the bush right of the trafl. “How are you, Jim?" she said, In a dreamy, far away kind of voice. Jim licked the hand his head, then return with I you ou will that had patted bounded down the trail, to . ve at his heels. “Mornin’, The boss is havin' a Here’s a cable dispatch for him, and another letter; they come with the other, but barman at the saloon thought as he'd sent 'em with the fust letter.” “That looks im- you open it, and see?" , I think not, Dave.” “Ain’t you his pard? “You had better go and He's gone first to the mil said, he would have Ridge.” ‘But you ain’t had no breakfast?’ ‘Don’t mind me, Dave. Go, straight away. Say that I have read the lett= he left for me and will help him to answer, it; and that if, when he has read this’ other letter and the cable, he would like me to read them, you will bring them back. I am having a day of; shall be about the cabin all day.” Yes, mister,” said Dave. t old man Digges; nd him, Dave. and then, he to g0 over to the “I see you you just busted “Think so, Dave?’ “He'll be goin’ on a bender to-day, and be tearin’ around for the rest of the week."” “1 have never seen him the worse for arinke.” “He don’t often do it. It would take a hull distillery to make him helpless; but he gits on at times. Pete Kerridge was tellin’ me that after you left the saloon last night he put on the gloves with Rorty Jaggers, and knocked his eve out, well nigh; would make Jaggers turn to. They say he's scorchin’ mad, as you got his knife.” “Is that so? Well, never mind, Dave. Go now and find the boss and give him the letter and the cable.” “Yes, mister.” 2 “And when is there another mule train to, the Forks?"” %t:rlin' now,” said Dave. - you think there's time for me to send a message?”’ “Why, yes. T'll catch 'em up. “Then' please wait one moment.” Bhe sat down and wrote upon a sheet of note paper, addressed: *“From Solomon Dankes to Richard Lorrimer Esq., Messrs, Straker, Love Lorrimer, " Bedford Row, London Efnnana: Alasg! Glover's instinet was fulfilied. I sent the news to Zella Brunnen, and hear she or her repre- septative has started for London.” “It'1l com & main heap o' dollar: said Dave. n’t 12" Zella counted out the money. “At the Forks they will copy it out on a TR, Sord, lora, Mr. G “But, lo ord, Mr. Grey, you'll find the kefrect thing in your room, under the papers on the shelves. Mr. Glover was used ter send cables. kin find 'em.” Zella stood and watched the lad as he ned her room door and went to the shelves .and produced the forms. She t she had turned over everything, but at any! in the shape of letters or documents she had paused, with feminin gdlucy. and o had overlooked the cable lorms. z She ro;g‘ou thla message, and thenl, hav- and er orm » _con: :gev.her she should send 0!{' to C:fl%:’:: They would have been expecting to hear from her from the Gilsey House; even from Liverpool or Southampton by this time. “Better walt and see what the letter and cable for Dankes may contain,” she said to herself; then addressing Dave, she said: “Thank you, Dave; now, away you o And away he went, Jim boundin; front, Zclia watching them out of sight and th;-n ;e-egterhtxg the cfabln to read over afresh the strange, fateful les from Rithara Lorrimer. e CHAPTER XXXV. ZELLA LOOKS BACK AND GOES FOR- WARD. on in Zella waited impatiently for Dave's re- turn; waited and wondered. had been borne In upon her that her mission of vengeance, for weal or woe, was on the ©he never setioualy doubted what th w! end would be. Yet there were times 'hOI: she was much less confident than at othe!‘:é It i;“?nt:fidn}l"' twl':en she re- B les50; the had received in the Grt of seif e enen ‘at the Wo{ncn’- A‘”fiflfi Cll‘l’b. nd how every supplementary ey e v T A L TR o S had combined with it into a solidified and with others in the camp she never once used all her skill, Dllll 1 it night, that she from Al e knowledge. In her bouts of boxing with and ‘when she had hit Digges dexterously and 'Igrk in hand to think of ne with strength. Once she would have liked to have said, “What does that remind you of, you brute?’ But she reserved her taunts for a more serious time, and when the serious time should come she would re doubt be sufficlently occupied with the othing else. he was disappointed with the resuit of Dankes' reading of the letter and the cable. She had a vague kind of hope that they might contain some news of Bridget O Hagan or of Mr. Storey. She found her- self thinking, between other things, of the letter from Richard Lorrimer. He hoped to see her. He should. It would be a comfort to her to have him talk about her dear Ned. Already her mind began to be occupied with London. * * * Would she ever sece London? ‘‘We are sending our Mr. Hildyard to interview you in connection with the will of the late Edwin Glover, your partner in the dent Gulch mine,” ran the cable to Dankes from Zella Brunnen's lawyers in_ Chicago. The letter was on a mmtter of ordinary usiness, connected with some goods Dankes had ordered from Denver. “The boss says they're of no import- ance,” gaid Dave, as he handed letter and cable to Zella, “But thar's a hi' jinks a-goin’ on, as Mister Glover used ter say, down at the Platts Valley camp. I told you how ‘it would be. Boss Digges, h's started in on a bender. Entire camp's out on tne spree. They've even slopged the mill. You can't guess what a day they're havin'. Boss Digges is sparrin’ with the gloves and thar’s be'n a race be- tween Jumper Bill and Frenchy Nick for a jar of whisky; and old Jake Sharp and Frenchy have had their foils out; and it’s a regular sportin’ day. I never see anythin’ 1iké it. And the boss, he kecps a-sayin' ‘Whar's that dude, Mister Grey?" Rorlt; Jaggers says for a dude you've got the biggest muscle he ever felt grip a man with. 1 didn't know as you'd nipped Rorty. Whar’s Old Prudent? they wanted to know. I told 'em he was at the Ridge and would be there all day.” ‘And will he, Dave?” I guess go. He and the boss thar is havin’ a deal, I think, about a new claim.” “Is Mr. Captain Dan down at the saloon?" ‘‘Yes. He's doin’ a bit of chaff all round. He's good company, ain’t he?" .Very. And a good fellow, eh, Dave! “I should smile. Why. theré ain’t a man in the Valley as wouidn't take his word for anythin’; and yet he ain't supposed to be what they calls warm.” "31“”7"5; hey say be 11 = es - he'll a mil- lonaire one day. Hes Eot o milionairs for a backer. That's one of the things Mister Dankes could never ungderstand— how Mistér Hiram Dexter, the great banker, could have deals with Digges; big a thief, Mister Grey, as big a sneak as there is this side the Sierras.” .And yet he's the boss in the Valley?" You see, he's such a tough» ggt such a wrist, and the pluck of forty. hy, he'd think no more of fightin' a rigment than eatin’ his supper. They say he killed a Marshal and a hull posse 'way beyond San Francisco, five vear back, afore he come out here.” 2 Do you think it's true?" “Ask me another, Mister Grey. Rorty Jaggers says he've killed six or seven in res’lar duels; but there, you never know. All we kin say right here is that we know of three as h /3 done for; and the last, as you know, Broke Mister Dankes right up.” He never spoke to a soul for.two days; wunst 1 thought he would ha’ gone down to jthe Valley and shot Digges on sight, But there, men gets over these happ'nin’s; you has to, ef you lives in a new minin' "camp.” “‘How long have you been here, Dave?" ";} hat, In Platt's Valley?” “Yos o ‘Oh! I reckon from the fust. Come over with Mister Dankes."” “Where from?’ “'Way back of San Franeisco.” “Why don't you sleep up here? “I looks after the mill; got diggin's down thar.” “I shouid have thought you would have been company for Mr. Dankes.” “Oh! he don't want no company; and +he don't trust some of the Platts Valley men. Thar ain’t no love lost, as they say, between the Gulch and the Valley.” “‘But vou are only a lad. What could you do if anything happened in the night 2 ‘1 kin keep my weather eye open, as Mister Glover used ter say, and I've got- ten a dawg down vonder as is spry as a 'lectric current.” “‘Why don’t you bring him up to the cabin? “He sleeps all dav_ and is busy goin' his rounds at night. Mister Dankes, how- ever, was gettin' lonesome before yon come. He'd off'n keep me talkin' after supper. It would ha’ done vou.good to ha' seen him and Mister Glover sittin’ by th. stove and talkin’ Oz agen’ the other—Mister Glover on with his yarns about London, and the boss on with his'n 'bout old frontier days, and sich.” “Yes, indeed it would, Dave." “It's’getiin’ to be much the same with him and yen.” ‘“Except that I don’t talk about Lon- don, Dave.” “I recken it ain't no bigger than Chi- cago or New York.” “Yes, it is, Dave.” 1 “You don’t say! I ain't ben to New York, but T guess San Francisco's hard to beat. Why, it's all garden and flowers, and fine houses, and street cars that gay it'’s just heavenly. And thar's the sea' Sometimes I hev a longin’ for the sea that seems to gend me crazy; and the boss, he says, byme-by, when the new lead pans in a year or so, we'll go “Dave,” 'said Zella, suddenly interrupt- ing him, “when I leave the Guich, as some day I shall, youw'll find. on the shelf where you keep the cable forms, a few dollar bilis to help vou see San Francisco through still more radiant glasses.” ‘“‘Hope you ain’t goin’ to leave us? “1 hope not, for the present, Dave; but you never know, as you say. By the way, 1 think I shall go down to the Valley, Dave,” she said thoughtfully. “What for?" 4 “To haye some fun.” “I wonder what's yer game, mister, with Boss Digges? It ain't for me to_take a hand in it. T expec's; but Mister Dankes, he’s puzzling hisself a good deal 'bout vou and Digges. “Is he, now? Sit dowh and tell me, Dave.” “Well, you see, it's like tale-bearin’, as they say; but I ain’t a mean cusg, so what's it' matter, ef it's like this or the other. Old Boss Prudent, he says ter me, ‘What's Mister Grey up to with Digges, Dave? You sees more of the Valley than me, and more'n I like yer to see, though I think yer 'ead’s in the right place!” ““And T'm sure your heart is, Dave, I trust you * ‘Why is he doin’ the soft sawder, as Mister Glover would have sald,’ snis Mis- ter Dankes, ‘a-bummin’ around with him? Is he af as Digges'll quarrel with him, and knife him?” “Oh! He thinks I'm making up to Digges tecause-I'm afraid?" “Yes; and he said as he often thought as _you was a-thinkin’ of yer mawther; #né that young fellers with sorter tender hearts wanted their mawthers to say thetr pl‘lfl;fil’l to of nights.” \ :'I énk'a I'm homesick?" on't know as he knows what hx inks; but he’s mighty fond of you, an that bothers him, I rec] “‘Been riding that mule?" 4 “‘He's a rt, mister. The man as come to buy him'li go lame for the rest o y? I'm o “‘He one o‘.fi:e,m , he could ride anythin’. But you never see anythin’ as artful as, tnat mule! Buck? ¥, & mustang ain’t in it with him; and as for lyin’ do'mrmd rollin’, he's just a lump of injla-rubl “Well, I have given him to you, Dave. You quite understand?” “Thank you, mister; the guv-nor told me that was your idea. I meant to ha' sold him; but'l think Tl keep him, for spert. ank you, mister. 'm tin' fond of him. You'd ha' died iaffin’ ef you'd ha' seen him pretend to let the feller as come to deal tme{u“ he had der. He bucked him and old Doc’ Smithers, as sets bones, up onder at the Ridge, he says it's a double ‘racture; and—" “1 shouldn’ laughed at that, ave.” ‘“You would ef you'd seen it; but not after. Mister Dankes, he was with him when T was up at the Ridge. and he's go- in’ to keep him till he's well:"" ““The fortune of war, Dave; T must sub- scribe to that hospital. And now, look you any gudn of steel?"” that knife; it's the one as lexes done all his bloody work with."” He took it its case and ““Do up lay the haft, drew it from tried its temper. 3 n’t bend much; just enwfh: T once heard D‘% es say S0; goes ht ‘ome, don’t double up at a bone; would go clean through a plank. He =aid he could drive it through an 1 Ton plate.”” Zella took it from him, felt the blade, it m one hand to the other: eld 1t llxh'#'. manipulating it with her mnhu c;“ h:d“be‘e; a mtehra ht:a; tossed it up. caught it; gripped the s and struck upward with it; and excited Dave into expressions of wonder and ad- miration. “‘Are you ;mn‘ down to the Valley again, ivn % "I wash’t thinkin’ of it; I was a-goin’ to lt‘}'n‘n mill. But I'll go anywheres you es.” t w her g«’ar a kltg have ‘your eye on me, “I am going to the saloon, Dave. If there’s so much fun going on, it's a pity not to see some of it."” ;;Dho you ;“l';t to h:ve m&her bt:out W Digges e s he's o to as B the Eloves a6 B de” with the bowle. If Master s was here, h wouldn’t like you to go down there now. “I am going down because he is_not here, Dave. may need a.friend. Keep ave.”” His hand on his hip-pocket, Dave said, “Ef any harm comes to you, Mister Grey, Tl let dlyllfim into Boss Digges,; sure! It was a blazing hot day. Not sultry. There was a slight breeze. It came fro the hills, in gentle puffs; too furtive an soft to ‘do much more than make the heart pulsate. The singing birds, none of Wwhich at any time had more than a few vague notes, had ceased to punctuate the hum of insect life with staccato reminis- cpaces of some previous existence. The lence was profound. Zella stood con- mmphtlr}( the scene before her. She listened for the last indications of Jim's cheerful bark and Dave’s responses. This was, probably, the last time she would stand there, among the pines ani brushwood, on the threshold of the cabin that had given her shelter, where the man she had loved had spent some happy days, working for her, talking of her, dreaming of her. It had given her many a heartache to be sitting where he had sat, to be lying in tune bunk where he had lain; and at times it had inspired her with'a strange, vague pleasure All her young life passed before her, as she stood on the borders of the forest primeval, and on the .ringe of what may some day be a great city, rivaling Carson and Denver. ‘he Indian frontier, with fading recollections of the old fort and tke music of the military bugle, the school, wnere she had been unhappy; the home with her aunt, where her soul had revolted at the cant of a queer, crabbed religious discipline; her revolt, and tha peace of Parkside, dear old Bridget O'Ha- %an. Old Glencoe, and the coming of her nglish lover; she saw the sunny shores of the lake, the sandy cycle track, with two flying figures spinning along: she saw her centerboard boat, with its lugger sall, her lover hauling the rope, herself snugly ensconced behind the rubber bar, watch- ing and secretly loving him; she felt the Jar of her last encounter with Dexter; she saw Storey's anxlous face, charged with the sad news of her lover's death; she saw herself interviewinz the police, the Press, her lawyers, with no prospect of justice being done to her martyr, and, finally, she saw herself rise up. heroical- ly, to take upon herself what she con- celved to be a great duty of vengeance. It was a dramatic panorama of events that passed before her. She had invoked it in a dlagnosis of her nosition. She was mentally climbing the hill of her des- tiny, by way of justifying her latest as- cent. Had she mistaken the trafl? Was she on the right road? More than once it had seemed to her that she was not herself; that she was traveling through a strange dream; that she had never been Zella Brunnen, but always Philip Grey. But these fancies came during transient moments. in the cloud of a cigarette, or even under the passing influence of an extra sip of old rve: at no time taking more than enough to give color to the fresh water she always drank with it, “one of his durned British peculfarities, thfiy’ said in the c-mr. But now she was serious and eminently herself. She had looked back over her life and found noth- ing In it to regret that she could have altered: except the death of Ned Glover, and she blamed herself for letting him Eo away. As If it were given to any hu- man power to arrest the hand of fate! Presently she went to her room end made a careful change of clothing. She laid aside her ordinary gray shirt and re- placed it with one bot ighter in ma- erfal and in color. She laid aside- her braces and donned a broad belt that she gererally wore when she engaged In trials of strength or dexterity. It was a soft suede belt, of unusual thickness consider- ing {ts pliability, with a buckle admirably contrived to adapt itself to the figure, partly made of steel chain and silver. She changed her boots for a pair that looked much heavier than they were, pliant in the upper parts and giving well in the soles, such as a eyclist might wear for scouting in wartime; strength, with ductility. She tucked her breeches into the tops, giving her nether limbs the characteristic touch of the mining camp;: and. that the boots might not look too clean and ‘‘dandy.” a Dankes had styled them, she muddied them at the bench outside the cabin. Round her throat she .ed a loose gray neckerchief; in the left back pocket of her breeches she thrust a small revolver. She pushed her short hair back from her forehead; pulled on, at the back of her head, the felt cowboy looking hat, and was a perfect picture of handsome, ath- letic young manhood. At first she thought of carrying her knife in the breast pocket of her jacket, where the Southerner advised her to wear it but, supposing she tried a boxing bout with Digges it might incommode her, or it might cven be jerked out, so she fastened it In her belt. Then. calmly surveying the room she closed the door and passed out into the open. Taking her way down the trail, her lips tightly closed over . her white teeth, her blue eves looking out from their depths with a steady gaze, un- shadowed from the sun by their long lashes, the face calm In its expression of a fixed resolve, as of a general going into battle. CHAPTER XXXVL SKIRMISHING. They bad rigged up an awning over the front of the saloon. Captain Dan, who, had he been dressed In woman's clothes, might have passed for a blonde giant, was sitting smoking in the shade of the ship-like rig, watching a game of poker, in which Pete Kerridge and Rorty Jag- gers, Jumper Bill and two others were en- gaged. Inside the saloon a lively faro bank was in operdtion. In front of the saloon the place, or “plazza,” as Frenchy Nick calied it, had been swept and sand- ed, and there was evidence of sport hav- ing already rumpled it. The ropes and posts used for the ring when serious busi- ness was on hand were lying in a corner. As Zella lounged into the arena, as it might well be called, Captain Dan rose to greet her. “Hello! my dandy, my dude down- Easter, rigged out fo' a mash! Pity ther’ ain’t no dainty female to respond. Why, Mistah Grey, glad ter see yo'. Shouldn’t wondah you're fo' a day off, like the rest of us?” “‘Guess again, and you would be wrong, Captain Dan,” said Zella. “¥o' are the author of the high jinks; yes, yo' are! Yo' fired the Boss with such an extravagant desiah fo' sport that he set all the camp movin’. We've had box- in’ and racin’, and, by Jove, yo' might have thought yo'self in old Kentucky, ef vo'd seen enchy Nick and Ole Dutchy nz_turn to with the foils; and then Boss Digges with the bowie. He's been ending messengahs aftah yo’, sah!” ndeed!” Yes, sah, indeed. Hi in what Hamlet called a holiday mood: and would fain have yo' try a bout with him. Between o' and me, Mistah Grey, Boss Digges not always sweetest when most he pre- Q?-'u’. or drucO 'l: most h:.;u hy ins. Come- here, youngster. The giant thrust his arm under Zella's ked aside, out of hearing. this from me: I'm in ‘wicked * it in, sah. He’'s jeal- hit him everv way. o've o'—made him think ‘ventured NOT Eve awas b hitn and me nigh to chime h in’ with his knife luck Itu got mdL"ln a quarrel o hanic It 1 should k you, C: Dan, want -1 friend badly to-day will you stand by me ““Will I? By the blessed h of my an. 'sah, LIl stand by 3o agan’ the entire camp! Come and have a drink.” As they entered the bar the faro ’fimy sily out from the back, Digges at their head, all talking at once—some cursing, some laughing; the winners jubi- e losers down on thelr luck. ‘Come on, boys,” shouted Digges. “The ks hev sent us ' case of champagne, d, by thunder, I'm goin’ ter call the ‘Bully for you!” “HF, hi’, for the boss!" g ' B& sald het;lummenn?" and other chee es gree e _announcement; lgg ‘l’zrlt‘h'n‘l;h the bartender began to lef t _corks g Then it was that Digges saw Zella and Captain Dan at the further corner of the “Why, shrivel my bones, her y'are! To ‘hell "l(h yer low-down dflnh!‘r ex- the captain's laimed Digges, sweepin; :nd Zella's ~ glasses ofl‘ the counter. "'fl‘afl'l liquor for you, Grey! Drink with me i He picked a_tumbler and the bottle of wine. thet was opened 2‘;& filled a bumm for Zella. o n Dan, 'scuse me, this is the stuff for tleman of the army." "Ha flllfinflfluf glass 4 o to overflowing or Captain ‘Yo' are up in the skies,” said t! tain, "Whant fs it? Struck a n«whl'udg' “No; a new liquor,” Dl?u Eut% the bottle to his mouth and Test of the contents. As he threw the bottle aside he again lutteringly invited the camp to di at his expense. | " ‘“Nevah seen yo' in so fine a mood! exclaimed the captain. ‘When vou've filled up,” said Digges, “me and my friend, Mister Grey's goin ter shew you a sample of the noble art g{ self-defense. Rorty, whar's the gloves? Rorty produced several pairs of gloves with a “Here vare, boss!” “Don’t yo' think vo' should ask Mistah Grey's permission, befo’ makin’ such an announcement?” said Captain Dan, in his most Southern manner. “Mister Grey said he'd giv’ me my re- venge; and, anyhow, Captain Dan, you kin kéep your chin music til it's called or."" “It's called f0', sah, whenever I chuse to turn it on.” “Gentlemen, gentlemen!" m!™ sald Jaggers. “‘Oh, —— hi grunted Digges, turn- InF away. ‘I'm quite ready to oblige, comrades, if %h?l Boss is in the humor for it,” said ella. A general cheer greeted Zella's accommo- dating remark, and aimost immediately a ring was formed and Zella and Digges took thelr positions. Digges siripped himself to his shirt and breeches, and it was noticed, with surprise, that his shirt was white—"had been fresh boiled,” as one of the men remarked, and yet they'd ‘‘meither coolie nor female on hand.” Digges had washed his shirt, “Hello,”” said Captain Dan. “Yo' shames the camp. The first boiled shirg we've seen! ” “Seem'd as ef I'd like ter be a sorter dude myself on this occaslon. Can't & man be dressy ef he pleases? Look at Mister Grey; done up for a tea-party. I'm goln' ter take the tea-party out'n you, youngster, to-day." 4 “Very ltkely,” said Zella, “Come one!" Digges had haraly snuared himself and stood on guard before Zella danced round him and hit him twice in the face, to a roar of laughter and applause. “'No, yo' don't!” said the Captaln, who elected himself umpire, as Digges started to_follow Zella_up. Belng an informal set-to it was not considered necessary to have seconds Captain Dan seemed all at once to be seconds and umpire in one. “Look here, Captain, no — nonsense sbout this thing. Jaggers, second me. Pete, ef Mister Grey s willin’, you stand by him, sald Digges. thing in ordah, gentlemen,” chi T the Captain. “Mistah Digges is on his mettle, and the youngster seems in form."’ Zella smiled and looked round to see, close by her side as he could get. her henchman, Dave. :“}'herc's Dankes?* Zella asked him. ‘Up at the Ridge. “That's right,” sald Zella. recalling the fact that he had supported Glover when, on that fatal day, on this very sp . Glover had fought with Digges. She aid not want the presence of Dankes as a re- minder. She was Philip Grey, and she meant to goad Digges into a serious en- counter before she left the ring. “Time!" said the Cantain Digges stralghtened himself to his full beight; a formidable looking opponent, broad of chest and back. his shirt, being cpen, showed a coating of thick hair; his arms were long and similarly covered, though in a lesser degree; his forehead low, his neck thick, typical of strength and brutality. His opponent was the per- fection of a lightwelght: supple. deep of chest, strong in the wrists And with & leg that the captain had sald over and over agein ought to be modeled. The voung- ster’s chin was full and betokened firm- ness, and there was a gieam of some- thing in his eyes that, to Captain Dan, was more than earthly. Zella laid aside her gloves, her hat, her knife and her re- volver, and tucked up her sleeves to the elbow. ) “By —! Look's like what one might icthah a revoltin’ angel, when Satan fell rom heaven,” said the Southerner, “Who In thundah Is he, aryhow? And why is he in this — hell of a camp? S'pose we'll glt at it, in time? # The combatants vere facing each other. Digses made a fei with his left and was cleverly countered. Zella stood on the defensive. Digges strode up to the young- ster with energy and lunged with his jeft. Zella dodged the blow, and, steppin aside, hit him under the eay. s “— "you!" 'exclatmed Digges. Then he made an ugly rush at her, and was re- ceived with a facer that felled him. His second assisted him to rise. He was bleeding from the mouth: There was a hush among the crowd. The thing looked serious.” Zella accepted the kindly offices of her ‘attendant with a smile, Digges had never as much as touched er. “That'll do! Leave me alone,” said Digges, pushing aside his sunporter, who was sponging his face. “Leave me alona! It’s nawthin’. ‘ome on, — you!" He leaped forward and stood like a rock. “Come on, say, you — dude! I'll bash ver hide, before I've done with yer!” 75 thought this was merely sport,” said Zella. ‘Gentlemen, I did not understand rn 1 say, you — dude! Zella advanced cautiously. “David and Goliath, by Jupiter!” said the Scutherner. “Very well. Here I am,” sald Zella, every move she had ever learned from her British tutor at her fingers’ ends “Where will you have it?" It was wonderful to see the youngster hop round him and tempt him to strike. Digges followed her with his bloodshot Pf‘es‘. r!a;i{l !ohhlt out with all his might, aiming at her heart, as if he were fight with a bowie. . “You'll have it thar!” he said, suddenly flinging himself at her, with murderous intent. She caught him under the jaw with her left, and as he staggered hit him full in the face with her right. He fell like a bullock. <‘Hello, hello!” sald the Southerner. 2 that's enough!" trike stake: “Who says' it's enough?’ growled Digges. “Gimme a minit!" He scrambled to his feet and flung his great arms about, clearing off his sup- porters with the strength of a glant, des- pite being half-stunned. “Gimme roo he shouted; you dude! Glmme my knife!” He tore off his gloves. “Gimme my knife. T'll kill you!" CHAPTER XXXVIJ. £ Tg'lE FIGHT. Zella threw her gloves aside, took her knife. that has been Digges’, u‘:fl sheathed it, and stood on the defensive; Digges rushing towards her, as he spoke. e awaited him, clutching the we: X He fell back. - e A number of men invaded the rf: sought to restrain the rage of the nb‘iaa.t':: hound. sald Zella, pushing her — you, "Genthmeni;' 1, Zella ‘way among them, 1 s}dél ‘give him his head. lv:.l: :aoo! :lf;ll-l‘(ll‘ of Dt Digges picked up his coat and drew from T{ the knife wgleh he had exchan, for his own with Zella. g 7 » — you, all of you!” he shouted. “This | my ihow > ! Boss!" expostulated D:n._' “You're in the wrong. Th!-c.?nt:‘.% “tv must? By hell and thunder, e R earn T ain’t learnt his.o 0" L '° comrades!” gentlemen! have learnt it—I have '1f Ned Glover had done so he 0 says don't s led learnt ‘wouldn’t have been murdered. Most .!‘t:: ll:len fellhbwek. - ““Tha ult enough, sure!" he boss et Jag- gers. lls the urderer!™ I repeat it,” said Zell: black-heart- ed murderer; and there are some among you who are little better than he.” - "BI ——, It's true!” said the Southerner, there are pals of mine who think “‘He calls . ®0. A number of qulet, determined. tellows Tatlied to his st oy and for a mo- ment it looked as if th Bes frea Rghe. ere was going to en, T am not much t among yo'."” sald Jumper Bill, “but I'm on the £ide of the angels, as Mister Glover use- g: nf" And he stepped up to Captaln Meanwhile & oLy Digges had submitted to be “This 1s a-goin’ on,” h % a fight on Platts Vailey NI, THG 1 t aln’t fair and squar’,” sald Jumper “ B“{l t b sighi “Not by a — t1* satd 3 ““Out’n’ the wuy‘ 0" mule er‘l;:r," sald TN settle, wESyon oo e “T'll settle wi' you g o e 'go one day, Rorty Jag. “Comrades,” sald Zella, “I am most g“lmet Le(d llkil'l:n bg!;lnss!.htnfl lmuk you e, er ave ocut. I am willing.” . ey "You hev' insulted the camp,” sald Jag- gers. “Then’ I withdraw the offenst: mark,” sald Zella, “since it hurt:eyoun; gentle feelings. I will be that your bog is a liar, a wtswk:‘ M50 TUbaRy that's stralght from ;I]::};{('hh. youngstah; and T see (:‘I; “‘& will we all’™ shouted a dozen voices. ““And T want no second.” said Zella. “I'd rather have a clear field.” e “Lemme stand by yer,” sald Dave, dodging under the rope t had once more been stretched for the encounter. “““Come outer that!" exclaimed Jaggers. “No; let him remain,” said Zella; “he 2 me. e ihe Lord,” sald Dave, “I will and Zella agen’ all cogers’” He spoke Yinf a whisper, thanked him. Then Pete Kerridge fomented further discord_by suggesting that an umpire uld be a man who had shown ne lean- to one side the other; whereupon Captain Dan said, anyhow, there was only going to be one umpire on this event- ful occasion. . *“Ain’t that playin’ a highhanded game?" asked Kerridge. “If you think, in your shriveled heart, sah, that a man can't be honest and still be human; if, sah, you are of opianion that an umpiah should be an automatic ma- chine, why, you are entitled to pity, but if you challenge my honah, that's an- othah mattah. Mistah Kerridge, you v flcoah.”™ P ot ane” to stand in the way of business,” said Kerridge. . < “0 . let it go!” “Back down, Kerridge! “Captain_Dan’s the um and other encouraging remarks e fr the crowd; and the remov his broad-brimmed fe! with a mock flourish, said, “Mistah Kerridge, the camp's agen' you, sah; if you 1%'1:-.}: a fur- } dgment, I will see you latah. e S eiage shrugged his shoulders, le way for Jaggers and Jumper ho marked the ground, carefully ed by Captain Dan; and the fight pale and confident, stepped within e e “Will you shake, gentlemen?" asked the e, sald Digges. last m shake that will you" sa She felt it a gain to Irritate her adver- sary; and she was as certain of killing him as if she had received a flat for the from heaven. 'y maneuvered. The Southerner noticed, with a smile of satistaction, that Digges lacked the self-restraint that had hitherto characterized him when in the ring. He se d to be in a hurry. The youngster watched him with a steady eve, and held his knife with a grace that was snake-like, he thought; seemed to balance it between his fingers, as If with a certain kind of contemptuous ease. Digges never once tried to trifle with the young fellow. He was In brutal earnmest. He approached the youngster savagely. youngster gave way, and kept him arm’s length, with a sub(le({‘ of defense that ne recognized as one of his own deft inventions. Once he flung out one of his long arms. and almost touched her cheek; but she dodged him with an alertness that seemed to bewilder him. All through the round he was the attacker. Her de- fense was perfect. There was, howeves, one awful moment, In which Dave sought his hip-pocket. Digges put into operation a trick he had not exploited, either in their play or in his oral lessons. Nor was it regarded in the rough rules of the camp as legitimate. Hemmp »ed her, and as she stumbled it was eviflently the brute's intention to follow her at the disadvantage; butshe recovered with an almost miraculous success. Had she not done so, however, she would have been protected by Captain Dan, who leaped between the assaflants and called the bout ended. ““Abner Digges, I pronounce that a foul.” sald the Southerner. ‘‘Persisted in, T'd have shot you in your tracks.” A shout of approval greeted the um- pire’s judgn the Southerner. “And a — low th @o.”™ g Digges suppres: the curses that wers bubbling to his lips In face of the gemeral Fport of the umpire’'s emphatic, not to insulting declarat say it was an Digges, “and, by that!” “And that's the end of it.” sald Jag- repeated it's got to go at *Anothah such an acciden the Southerner, Recording Angel, ? Zella leaned aga e, and breathing hard for a few recovered tha shock of the | 1 took careful note of the fact that before Digges re- sperded slowly to the “Time gentlemen'" of the captain, he twice passed his kn'fs from one hand to the This might mean a trap for he might mean a certain forgetfulnes 1 the hints he had given her In thelr practice. Their rounds with the gloves had not tended to that calm rep: ihich he was accus- temed to show slons of serious en- oce counters. It had hitherto been noticeabla Digges had ente the arena steady, watchful vigo pulling himself together, straightening his lumpering figure and very stolidi The e inter with Zella was, however, a studden thing; looking formidable from his the sequel to a quarrel while his words were hot and his brain in A whi an That the sympathy of the crowd, even tho: f h OWNn par- ticular pais, had turned a: st him, only served to make him desperate, which might be to the advantage of Zella, or ctherwise. Anyhow, she seemed to gaugs d, and to be prepared for him er he might attack, fair or- foul. The captain watched her keenly. It had been in his mind to stop the fight on the foul: but something told him that the match was not the unequal encounter that some of the crowd were inclined to regard it. He observed how quickly the youngster leaped out of danger, even on the stumble, and how. after a®passing tremor, he recovered from the shock of it, and at the same time took in his calm smile of confidence, his nerve, the perfect symmetry of his form, and the apt way in which he avoided dangerous move of his opponent. “As If it was an avenging angel, by thunda he sald to himself, and drew nearer the combatants now that they were once more at fence. Zella, with her alertness, had an intel- lectual superiority that counts In feneing, whatever the weapons may be. Her o servation was acute in the extreme. She saw every movement, even before it was made; and she knew her adversary's fa- vorite mode of attack, which, she was now convinced, meant that rapid change of right hand to left which had hitherto won him his victories. She had not loosened the strap on her wrist, except to give it full play; she now saw that his knife was free. To Digges the chief idea of the fencing lay In the weight of the - - 3 the psychological moment, the le: h of arm and the force of a hit. The British expert with the gloves at Chicago h: taught Zella that unless the mind be c:g tirely engaged bodily stren, is of little avail; and so had the Southerner at the gymnasium, who, explaining something of the uses and abuses of the knife, point- ed out to her that it was alertne: the trained eve, the interpretation of the very thought of the foe that brou&hl the duel- o ist home with his blow at right mo- ment and in the right place. “It dom't t much strength,” he had d, “to puncture a man’s h strike the right pla N if you are so inclined make it just as the probe of a A doesn’t want the stab of the butcher, bat mze ) flchkng tl ll?l.u‘lml'x:f- heart ella af t! to and she had been greatly encouraged the wi in which she had been :’w Digges with the gloves. & came at her now, in this last round, with the a tion pouring down his face, his mouth half open, showing his black and broken teeth, and he came at her siowly, affect- eing a contemptuous languor; the cat and the mouse business that Zella had ban told of in his previous encounters. t she saw a gleam of intensity in his eyes and the twitching of his fleshy lips that argued a sudden rush. As they met again Zella held the knife between her thumb and two fingers, as if it might have been a rapler; held it J- most jauntily. He gri his weapon low and ly; approached her slowly, pushed his blade at her stealthily. She caught it on her point, with an almost seeming playfulness, and glided past him, threatening his left guard. Not that they had any guard except their own bare arms®’ no nonsense of arm- shields or cloaks for Digges and his camp: 8o that none of their encounters were of long duration. Heenan, in the fa- mous Anglo-American battle, broke Say- ers’ arm in almost the first round. {z was no uncommon thing In the Platts Valley encoeunters for a man to be dis- 2bled right away: and thus, one-armed for all practical purposes, to be with- drawn by his backers. and the fight ended. “honor satisfied.” Neither Digges nor Zella had found any opperturiity to strike as {el, and =9 had resolved to push the business, in this second bout, to a finish. It did not look like it to the crowd; Ne was so gingerly and careless, as it appeared to them. But when most he was edging from Zella or elaborating his attack as if rather for show than for practical effort, he was pre ing to take und for a desperate ing and lunge that should rip his ad- versary to death. never during collected. Zella saw this, and was the encounter more calm and 4Continued next week.)