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VA.L oP- r PARADISE I bi t)ime S.'feoe .— \ \ , ® w Dodd, t'kad & Co-mr^ Ire., All rtoM3 reserved •tinted bi &rran$rm»i* with MehopoOton Newspaper Service Synopsis Hannon, wealthy ranch owner, . i,|iml wife. Belle, and their beauti daughter. Val. live happily to in Hannon's wonderful ranch paradise. Hannon, the greatest >r in the mesas country, loved by rainily and hated by his neighbors, I’-’’, richest land owner in that sec nia wondrous Red Brood of ,rs,-s ja the envy' of all cattlemen. In HunneweH's store in Santa Lean er., nearest town to Paradise ranch, a . line is running. ’"p-ldeman. man of mystery, wins steadily until a stranger, accompanied ' a band of horsemen, appears. "•'Thc stacks of gold at Brideman's ..in,l pnss gradually to the stranger’s |,ola Sanchez, rose of Santa Le lo n cl r a. watching the game, proposes p,,! Rrideman stake ner to the r.m.itor. itriilenian stared for a moment in , i. i !1 amaze. m his great laugh boomed in the vlll,,,, once more, the -sparkle came «w:f11 y hack to his blue eyes. poiip;” he cried, "come on, youngun ■ f vMti're a stayer! I stake Lolo, th' n* Santa I.eandra. against youi unc> pile! yM] he wafed a steadied hand gran ,i■j(,qiicntly toward the stacks of gold ;• ii >1 silver. F«.r !lie first time the stranger raised pycs and looked at the girl, but . ■„ i!i«l not meet his gabe. Sanchez forged forward and caught iw daughter roughly by the shoulder, l„,t she put her hands on her slim hips . n,l shook him off disdainfully. •Tm nineteen." she said. "go on, lirideman." Sanchez flung up his hand, snapped hs fingers. His brown face was ashen <’ r,i y. For a second or so the stranger hes ,.;1;scanned the faces of the prin cipals in the little play. Then he v;v j 1 cfl. picked up the cards, deftly .. i mT them together and shoved them •• \i 1 rig-lit." ho said, "and you may ,;\t. the deal in the bargain. One ; i’id m draw." Fi idfinan. steady as a rock, dealt, .-.hi down the pack and picked up his ml. Ii. discarded two. picked up the pack uain and looked at the other. The vniing man threw down four cards and • .idled. The girl by the table flushed like a A slight chance he took to win l.i-r. in i 11 truth! In silence Brideman dealt him four . ,,-ds. took his own two, and in silence i m y iu.ith spread down their hands • up. Brideman held two queens and a , S<. ;i five and a trey. The stranger lie Id four kings •I night, and a nine spot—the card he rad held from his discard. Lolo, watch* i .. s;iw this card turn up and the flush •i. i-pened in her dark cheeks. With an oath Brideman bungled un •'■mil the table. ■peril's luck!" he said horsely, "but > mi're sold. Lolo, body an’ soul!”— i:h which word and a mocking laugh ; • lurched to the bar. And Lolo. looking up with her wide Miu k eyes and her pomegranate lips parted like moist rosebuds, smiled at .■ ‘*r master like a siren. The man looked down at her and the •mile died on his own face. For a mug moment he regarded her, gravely. Then he stepped to her side and took Wt ham’. "Little, hold, pretty thing,” he said, ■i'-n’t do these tricks any more. Here, ; "Id your sash." And he caugh: ‘he broad end of the • -iped vanity t*. uvung at her knee, -mrearl it. gath". d its end tight, • Josed her hands about the knot, and, iirning to the table, swept into the sack thus formed the load of gold and silver thereupon. Then he stooped and kissed her lightly upon the rbsebud of her mouth. "Go home with your dad," he said, "and he a good girl." Then he gathered his men with his mink glance, walked to the door and "lit into the afternoon sunshine. In ten seconds the whole bunch, after mong the horses, had mounted and among the horses. ad mounted and turned and were making out of town iuward the south wth the great red horse five jumps ahead, his satin hide mining, his huge neck bowed, the 1 Mud of his black mane like smoke abeve him and his long tail a fan be • ind. livery man at Hunnewell’s but one '•row-fled out upon the porch to watch tVir /oing. ‘Boys,’’ said Hunnewell, solemnly', "'hi you know who that was?” "No,” came the ariswer promptly, from several, "but we got' 3t good "Right. I take it,” said Hunnewell. "That's Velantrie from th’ Border, and M' band o’ bandits—Don Keeota Ve ■ antri*. they call him, south, though vl;y—for that name, I don’t know, an’ hGs th‘ smoothest lad in th* world, they sa>- l saw him once before, in a little town over th’ line, an’ he remembered iut They say he knows a lot that some f"!ks don’t—your name, too, Bride man." Bur Brideman lay across the table • nsidr-. dead asleep. CHAPTER III The Friends of Paradise ' < summer was glorious upon the '1' The sun was high in a cloud !,-’ss *ky and a little wind .came eter ,IHl,y in from the bunch-grass levels. I niier the light the wide alfalfa '‘' •ids. of which John Hannon was in 1 natly proud and which the ranch :iu 1 hated, ]ay like spread emerald to ■\,qr<l -he south. Scattered against this v”-!,1 S’ epn the Red Brood grazed in *‘: 111 -f-1!t plenty. liedidoiif,. the big savage stallion, Mo*foot, old hut built like a racer and ”;lih tlie look of a colt; Dawnlight, ' fvi| one; Firebrand and The Flame, jhr.v were a sight fc« gods and men in • heir perfection. They pte of the sweet h»rage with daintiness, raised their |*rnntifu 1 heads from tim€ to time Mo "'•U over their world, and caPed their ' C'l challenges to all and sundry he ' ‘"'ll i the high blue sky. 1 M|iy Redstar across the fence in a ' innate field grazed in quietness, un 'n;» Ifij| of the ramping creatures that 'Huie and r«TTetP,along the fence with ,fd tails and snorting nostrils. l,p had no need of bluter, of wild ■ ' Hi: he cared for the Bed Brood’s ' ;i-)ik-Fi^e. ‘b was the king and his behavior fitting his royalty. 1'•<-' hatred of one stallion of an ' was in Redcloud’s scream of an when he passed, but he had never 1 Mi known to answer it. It was as ' " r,,lt a mighty contempt for the Ui,,l ruj horse, a bit smaller than him [self, not so .dark in color, heavier and of less speed. ' I “Redcloud hates th’ king,” said John ! Hannon, smiling, “But Redstar don’t ' know he's on earth. It's the heart o’ | th’ thoroughbred in him. th’ instinctive I knowledge that they ain’t rivals—can’t I be nohow.” v | • But Lightning, the beautiful geld- I ; ing, slim, graceful, tall and swift, gen- j tier than all the rest, was of ^ nearer | | mettle. If there was one horse on the! j ranch that could hold a capdle to Red-j ; star, it was this dark bay beauty with I his mane like a lady’s tresses and his gentle eyes. But Redstar’s eyes were gentler, his soft coat daker with a fain black sha.dow through it along shoulder and hip where the dim black dapples shone, his regal head higher, his nostrils smaller, more delicate, liTs slim legs longer, his massive withers higher. When Val Hannon looked at Red j her eyes, a'lump rose in her throat. ; ‘.'It doesn’t seem possible that a horse ! could be so grand, so—so human." she I said once, "he’s more than a horse in. all truth. There's a spirit In him that’s like a soul." And she was right, for when she i came to the upper bars and cupping j her hands to her scarlet mouth sent j out the double whistle that was be i tween them only, it was more than a horse who raised his splendid head —alert enough now—lifted his flowing tail a trifle, arched his high neck and sailed away across the fields toward her—it was a friend. Nay, more—it was a lover. A leer who smelled of her hair with long Inhalations, as if he drew the beloved scent of her into his lunge, who rested his great muzzle on her shoulder, rubbed his cheek on hers— red satin on towny velvet—-who nibbled her hands with his soft lips and searched her garments for tidbits. When Redstar swept out from the wide ranch yard and sailed away down across the levels with Val in the sad dle, her father sometimes stood and watched them with such a look of pride as a king might wear beholding his domain from the mountain tops. And Val, loose in the saddle as an Indian, shot through the soft blue at mosphere like a bolt, her dark eyes half closed, her lips apart, a smile dimpling in her cheeks, drunk to the heart on the glorious speed, the keen singing of the wind in her ears, the humming thunder of Redstar's shining hoofs. Redstar himself was no less drunken with his own perfection. He had run always—always, since those dim days which he had nearly forgotten—and the open sage was to him an amphi theatre. There was nothing in all the blue distance to stop him. There was nothing in the land to catch him—had never been. He had run with Redcloud, and with the slim young racers Firebrand and The Flame, and with Lightning, but always he had run away from them. Dawnlight had screamed and fought her bit, and raged like a fury because she fell be hind, had stopped and plunged and acted like a maniac, and John Hannon had never let her run again. Only Lightning, of all the speedy crew, had hung on Redstar’s flank for any length of time, and the master had looked at him with new interest. "There’s somethin’ by-ordinary in this Lightnin’ horse, Tom.” he had said, "for th’ Redstar's a high gauge to judge by—a damn high gauge!” On that sofe warm day when Lolo Sanched carried her gold down through the gaping street of Santa Leandra and did not see the gazers for her dream ing, Val Hannon drifted down across the bunch-grass levels on the great red king and smiled in the joy of freedom, the splendor of her youth and the glory of the open spaces. Presently they swung far and away toward the north and west, to skirt the foot of the Mesa Grande that lifted its flat top high above the surround ing levels, to find the narrow trail thwarted up Its south side in steep and dangerous slants, and to climb to its high tableland where the ancient Indian huts stood, hollow' and deserted, whipped by the winds and eaten by their sands. These silent places held a lure for Val Hannon, had always drawn her from the time when, a little child, her father had first brought her here to scan the world below. Val sat straight in her saddle, her hands folded on the pommel. And as they rested so in the hush of the eternal silence alone on the mesa wdth its ghosts of a vanished peo ple, something moved on the plain be low, far off to the west, and caught their searching gaze. / A band of horsemen rode there, swiftly, sweeping out of the north where lay the town of Santa Leandra, and one shot out ahead, a leader. The girl shawed her eyes with her hand and watched this rider and his horse. A red horse It was—a great red horse whose mane lifted above him like a cloud, whose beautiful body lay stretched along the earth in skimming flight, whose whole make and seeming were oddly familiar. For a long moment she watched, while her eyes grew round with won der and ' her lips fell -apart. Then she dropped her hand and laid it on Redstar’s neck as if she made sure of his living presence. “Sweetheart,” she said at last, in credulously, “if you weren't here be neath me I’d swear you ran yonder, as sure as death!” And far off there where' he rode like the wind Itself toward the mys tery of the ali-engulflng Border, Be lantrie rose in his stirrups and scanned the solitary horse and rider, standing like a stute high on the mesa's edge. He was too far away to see the won drous beauty of the red kir.g facing him, or to know his rider for a woman. But’ with his characteristic gaiety he stood up for a second and sweeping the broad hat from his head, waved it in circles. . And Val Hannon, answering the stranger’s signal, raised a (hand above her head. CHAPTER IV .The Cross 1" the Wildernu* The summer drowsed upon the land. The winds had died this day and the brazen sun was monarch. Where the Little Antelope trickled sluggishly be tween its low banks, to nurse the straggling growth of trees that lined it, the heat was somewhat tempered. Cottonwoods grew here, tall and slim, and many wasatcht trees to spread their lacy shadow, and there were desert flowers planted in stone-edged beds among the sand, while the sword like spikes of the maguey plant reaehed out to catch the unwary. This was a deSert garen, rugged, grassless, inured to heat and drought, yet pleasant to the eye and mind as many a more.fav cred spot was not. 10 tne west oi, the garden and beyond the trees, standing out against the sun and the desert winds like a speared and shielded warrior, the long blank walls of the Mission took the light on their pale expanse in a way to be seen for many miles across the plains. Peons, waifs on the changing tides of fortune* refugees from the turbu lent land across the Border, those broken and dispossessed by the war ring factions that destroyed their owji and got nowhere, the sick in mind and soul and body—these came to the doors of Refugio and none was turned away. For at those doors stod Father Hillaire. who for forty years had watched the stretching plains. He had seen some piteo,us things, and mode that were tragic, and some that were bright with faith and courage and ever lasting fidelity—such as John Hannon’s love for his ‘blind wife—and he was gentle with understanding. , But those who came to the Mission must work, for Father Hillaire was poor in wordly goods and the scant fare that was so free on the long board in the great bare living room behind the church must be taken from the soil with unceasing labor. Frijoles grew on the level stretches across the stream and a few bands of cattle ran on the open range, while sturdy grapes purpled on the wall that clasped the garden. Brown bread and milk and simple home-made wine, and the frijoles always, these waited the comer at the Mission steps, be it ciawn or dark or in the dead of night. But sometimes the slices of the dark bread were thin, the tea' strongly flavored with sage, for gold came scarcely to the padre’s coffers in these days. The sun went down toward the west and the long^blue shadows started out across the level floor from the lone shafts of stone and the table-lands of the means, and the little wind began to whisper from the south, while the won drous colors came shifting through the light. These colors had been to Father Hil laire one of the priceless possessions of his life, a gift of God in all truth, a wonderful healing and inspiration. Never was the day so dark, the fu ture so uncertain, but that his bur dened ‘heart found peace and hope in their beholding. To-day, as they flushed the high vault above the garden, Father Hil laire shut his beloved books and rofle to greet them. In that instant there came the sound of the long-roll of a running horse upon the distant plain. He hurried to the opening in the high wall where the great gates turned back upon it and looked eagerly out. For a moment a pucker of concentra tion drew in between his brows, then smoothed away as the charming smile came upon his features. “Ah!” he said aloud, delightedly, “Ve lantrie!” It could be no other. There was not in the land another pair like the two who came skim ming forward like a swallow, the man and the horse—there could not be. They seemed not two but one, so per fectly did they blend together in mo tion and appearance. The rider carried his broad black hat in his hand and the wind of their coming blew th#* black hair from his white forehead, and his face -was bright with laughter to greet the old priest in the gate. “Father!” he cried as the great red horse thundered up to slide in the dust and stop with his haunches 1o the earth, his fiery eyes a-shine in his broad bay face, “Padre! Avc!” He flung himself from the saddle and caught the padre's hand*? in both his own, pumping them up and down, by fashion. “My son!” said Father Hillaire. gladly, searching the sparkling face. “Son—son!. It has been long, long since Refugio has seen you. Come in. Have you eaten?” “Not since yesterday, but what mat ters?” He laid his arm affectionately about the old man’s shoulders and turned toward the garden, carefully gathering the bridle rein he had not loosed. So they entered the garden, draw ing the great red stallion alter, and the father stopped and securely closed the gates. “Bonifacio,” he called into the depths where the shadows were already fall ing, “come and take The Comet. Give him,” he continued as a slim youth came briskly up through the wasatcha trees, “a little water—not much-r—and rub him down well. Then a feed from the bins in the north stable. Keep watch upon him thyself until I call. Dusky women, their faces meek with the sweetness of that house, went noiselessly about the setting of the evening meal, and old Josephina. for many years the chatelaine, greeted the stranger with a warmth of recognition in her wrinkled features. And so, presently, Velantrie of the Border sat at the long table with the padre of Refugio and ate as one fam ished, though with grace and manners. He bowed his black head through the short blessing and withheld his hand with a slow* repression, though hun ger was with him keenly. When the meal wras finished the two men went outside again to the star light and the dry garden, drew to gether the worn chairs by the little table where lay the ancient books, and talked in that deep communion which comes wdth liking and understanding. Twilight deepened and the tip of Ve lantrie’s cigaret glowed in the dusk, sign-manual of comfort. They talked swiftly and nearly, and the padre leaned forward and laid his w'orn hand on Velantrie’s knee. “Oh, my son,” he said softly, “l have grieved over this waste for all the months I have known you! Loss —loss! It is not right, a crime against: hurpjanity for a man like you—<a man ! who can control himself—to cast his high chance to the four winds. Velantrie smiled in the gathering darkness. “You know, father,” he said,* “that I’d take that from none but you.” “I know',” said the priest firmly, “and I dare. I have dared much in my time. T'he keen knife is the kind- i est. I dare because I love you.'’ ] “And I take it and come back—for I the same reason. See,” he laid aside | the cigaret in his fingers and reached I in a pocket on his hip. I (Continued Next Sunday.) I BRITISH BOARD COMMENDS STOPPING FOR TEA LONDON, Feb. 3.—The afternoon cup of tea, to -which pieasaftt habit many Americans fall victim after a short so- | Journ in England, has been eulogized in a report issued by the industrial fatigue research board. Investigation showed that where a long afternoon of five hours was inter rupted by a tea interval, even if for LO minutes only, the regularity of. the work was particularly noticeable, The report Quotes workers as declaring: “We can face with equanimity, and =ven enthusiasm, a period of two hoursi work with the prospect of a rest, but to look forward to four or five hours' un,broken work dmapens the enthusi asm of even an ardent worker." Sunshine Laundry Damp Wash Ser vice. Call 172.—Adv- ; Correct Spring Clothes We invite inspection of an unusually attractive display of correct Spring garments, which are daily arriving from New York At the low price, it is the most attractive collection we have seen in any spring season DRESSES FOR STREET, SPORT AND AFTERNOON WEAR—COATS, CAPES, WRAPS AND NEW SPRING SUITS All in the latest materials and modes will be shown during this week Sfird’s Department J'tore A Sale of Silks Monday Courtesyr*Jer9ice<~i£argains Imported and Domestic Weaves—Silks of the Highest Quality .Money Can Buy—New Spring Patterns, New Colors* New Weaves—Compare Our Prices, Com t pare Our Quality SUPPORT THE COMMUNITY CHEST DRIVE SEND US YOUR MAIL ORDERS Silks Silks Silks SILK SHIRTING 36 inches wide, in all the new and fancy stripes. QO Per yard . S/OL BUTY CHYNE 36 inches wide, in extra fancy stripes. Used for under wear linings and draperies. * BROCADED SATIN 40 inches wide, in the new and wanted colors. dJO *7C Per yard .. SATIN MESSALINE 36 inches wide, in a limited amount and colors. AO - Efird’s priced per yard .. OL PONGEE SILK 32 inches wide, all silk, on sale . QO _ and C1. IS Monday, per yard ... CREPE DE CHINE 40 inches wide, in all the new and wanted colors. Per yard ..- «P 1 *vi/ RADIUM SILK 40 inches wide. A soft silk for underwear. Leading colors. Per yard. $1.79 , SATIN FOULARD 40 inches wide. A soft silk in all the wanted (£1 QO colors. Per yard. . . CORKSCREW CREPE 40 inches wide. A very heavy crepe-like silk. One of the best silks on the market. JO Per yard .... .. .vJ.**O , METALLIC CLOTH 36 inches wide, a two-tone silk, in the new shades. Per yard.. $2.75 Silks Silks Silks METALLIC CLOTH 36 inches wide, for evening dresses and trimmings. Col ors, gold and silver. QC Per yard. . . vv»TO SATIN 86 inches wide,, a very heavy satin which we have just received. Black only. QO Per yard. . vLvO Mallinson’s Silks of the finest Weaves PAISLEY CREPE 40 inches wide, used for sleeves and trimmings. Per yard ........ $2.48 PUSSYWILLOW TAFFETA 40 inches wide, in the noted for its service. Per yard.. new* and wanted shades. This is .. . $2.98 SIERRA CREPE 39 inches wide. A heavy crepe-like silk and' the newest silk on the market. Black only. - d* A QO Per yard. . MOLLY-O 40 inches wide. A satin cfrepe in the new plaids. All the new and leading colors. Per yard..... and fancy $3.95 CREPE SATIN 40 inches wide. This is satin on one side and crepe on the other. In new and wanted colors. ■ fft Per yard ... CANTON CREPE 40 inches wide, heavy quality in the leading colors; navy., brown, black, sandalwood. dJO QC Per yard.. 1
Wilmington Morning Star (Wilmington, N.C.)
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Feb. 4, 1923, edition 1
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