I.oo a Yrar, In Advance. v . FOR OOD, FOR COUNTRV, AND FOR TRUTH." Slngla Copy, 5 Cents.
VOL. XV. PLYMOUTH. N. C., FRIDAY. APRIL 22, 1904. ;C NO..
mXm BC H 4
5y Major
GfOOGKOLONEL MILLER called
V Lieutenant Emerson to
8 . $ him and said:
Sok "Lieutenant, those Ap-
fe()G)D(f3Si aches were the thieves
omplained of by old Don Alvares,
wliose hacienda lies down the Los
Mexos, among the spurs of the Sangre
le Cristi Mountains. The old gentle
man will sleep far easier if he knows
that we have driven the red devils
across the range. Will you ride over
with a word of our success to-morrow?
He has a daughter whose beauty will
repay you for the forty-mile jaunt,
ami the don will treat you like a
prince." I dare not leave camp my
self, find he would deem it an honor
if one of my officers brought him word
or the fight. You can have an escort
ir you wish. Will . you go?"
"Nothing would give me more
pleasure, colonel," replied the young
n:an. "The young lady attracts me.
Kut I ueed no escort: the trail is too
plain. I'll start to-morrow at day
break." "Thanks, my boy. Stay as you will
a week if need be. You have earned
a leave. Cut take care of yourself
heart and all. The donna's eyes are
iilo.-iyu.s, but her admirers are jealous."
Emerson laughed.
"I'll ho careful sir. Good night!" .
"Good night!"
And so they parted, each to his
quarters, and the younger, man to
di-oam of something brighter than In
dian watch-fires for the morrow.
The Seventeenth were old frontiers
men, and Colonel Miller performed his
duiy to the government faithfully.
Two days before, after a lively
brqsh, his troop's had routed a large
body, of Apaches, a score of miles
above camp, and driven them over the
range.
The Indians came from the southern
country, where they had been com
initlir.g many depredations, and it was
i one of the greatest sufferers at
Ihrir hands old Don Alvares. a rich
Spaniard that the colonel desired to
send th? comforting message announe
inr this discomfiture.
The morning dawned clear and golden
oneof New Mexico's best and ere the
dow luid faded from the cactus, or the
breath cf the night wind left the mes
quife thickets, Lieutenant Emerson, in
J'aligue uniform, armed with pistols
and sabre, was amount and miles upon
inn way along the winding trail toward
Hacienda Alvares.
The March 'sun was warm at noon
tide, as the lonely traveler paused be
neath the shadow of a great rock to
rest his horse and smoke a cigarette,
but its backward-thing rays from the
Far West had grown weak and faint,
and 1 1 ti dim shadow , of on-coming
night fell athwart the narrow path
way, ere the while wall of his des
tination caught the eye of the young
lieutenant.
Kidiag slowly down the broad plateau
toward the hacienda, thoughts of rest
and supper in his mind. Emerson sud
denly started in his saddle, and, checking-
his horse, his hand grasped his
sabrc-hilt with a soldier's intuition.
lust before him, and a little to one
side of the path, standing apparently
lu-lpless from either fatigue or fright,
was a half naked peon child a dusky
faced girl gazing fixedly upon a
-coiled snake that lay before her, Its
glistening crest raised and swaying to
and fro, while its angry eyes burned
fc Mo those of the fascinated child.
Aji instant more and the venomous
reptile would have buried its fangs
in the trembling form before it, -when,
flashing "through the air like the wing
f the plunging hawk, the trooper's
sabre fell between 'the girl and the
suako, and the head of the moccasin
flow twenty feet away through the
air. ' .
Then Emerson caught tne girl to his
saddle-how and rode forward.
For a moment she trembled, speech
less, as she lay, witfiin the strong
Hamilton
arms of the soldier; then, with a soft
cry. i-h" strove to escape. They were
now close to the gate of the hacienda,
and even as the child was. dropping
to the ground for the lieutenant in
stantly released her a" young and
beautiful woman appeared and with a
glad cry the little peon sprang toward
her.
Emerson reined in his horse and
raised his cap.
"'Pardon, mademoiselle, but the girl
was in danger a moccasin was "
He was interrupted by the beauty
herself, into whoso car the child had
poured her story.
"3irr you need no pardon. I thank
you ia the name of my father and his
most valued servant, Jaeque Dumox,
for having saved the life of this girl.
May heaven bless you! But will you
not enter, sir? You seem weary, and
night is at hand."
And so, following the beautiful Gua
dalupe for :t was she Lieutenant
Emerson entered, for the first time,
the Hacienda Alvares.
Five hours later, while the old don
and the young soldier sat over their
coffee and smoked, each telling to each
tales of the strange Southwest, a peon
entered. The master looked up, then
waved his hand encouragingly.
"This is the gentleman, Dumox, who
saved the life of your daughter."
The man advanced. lie was a genu
ine South American a peon, a body
servant of the old don who had fol
lowed his master north from Peru,
'with a gesture of absolute nomage, he
prostrated himself at the feet of the
trooper, and kissed the lieutenant's
sabre-tip.
My life is yours, master, at all
times and forever!" he whispered; then
he arose, and before Emerson could
speak he was gone.
"A splendid servant, lieutenant,"
said the don, as he refilled the cups;
'p?rl'tH i. and a . man worthy to be
your friend even. You have saved his
daughter, his all, and you can depend
upou him. He is your slave, for that
act, to the death!"
So began Emersor.'s acquaintance at
Hacienda Alvares; and as the morning
came, bringing with it the pleasures
of a home where wealth and beauty
reigned, long imonjoyed by this rugged
young soldier of the border, and dark
eyed Guadalupe put her hand in his
to thank him for the news he brought,
and asked him to stay as a friend
where he cainc as a messenger, a
thrill ran through his pulses, and he
stayed stayed until he felt- that his
colonel must be wondering, for his
week was long gone; stayed, until
dusky-browed Juan d'Imray, cousin
and suitor of his beautiful hostess
frowned upon him; stayed until his
heart throbbed wildly and his ears
drank as divino music the rich voice
of the donna until the girl's cheeks
glowed beneath his fervent glance, and
her bosom heaved when his hand
touched hers; stayed too long, and
then rode away with a positive prom
ise to the urgent old don to return
with a single glance from Guadalupe
that might mean words with a scowl
and curse from Juan that betokened a
hatred deep and fierce; and. last of all
with a single gesture of unspeakable
fealty from poor Dumox at the gate.
"Ah, lieutenant!" cried old Colonel
Miller, as Emerson appeared before
him on the morning following, ''the
donna was too many for you! But I
consent. Make the marriage soon, and
bring the beauty to camp."
The young man colored.
"The marriage will be
d'Imray. colonel. Rumor
with Juan
says she is
affianced to him."
But the colonel shook his head.
"Bah! that imp! His habits are worse
than those cf a -Mexican. The donna
is a wise girl, as well as a beautiful
one, and an American can win her.
especially when that American Is a
young and good-looking soldier. Lieu
tenant, if you want that girl, and I
believe you do, and don't go la and
win her away from that Spaniard, I'll
I'll order you under arrest for a
year!" '
And, with an emphatic shake of the
head, the orave old colonel turned
away.
Emerson laughed long and hearty at
his colonel as a 'matchmaker!" but
when it so happened,. two weeks later,
that the post-commandant found an
other message for Hacienda Alvares, it
also happened that the lieutenant was
ready to carry it; and the -bearer
found a stronger attraction than be
fore in the eyes of Donna Gaudalupe
forgot the evil lurking in these of
Juan d'Imray, and remained three
days at the table of his friend, the old
don three days of heaven to him,
crowned at last, one glorious night, by
the sweet, sweet words which made
the beauteous girl his forever.
For his love overpowered him, and
he confessed it confessed it to know
that her heart was his, even as his
belonged to her. and had been from
the first. Together they strayed be
neath the arbors of the garden. The
soldier's horse stood waiting at the
gate, the moon smiled. down upon his
lonely northern way; but his arms en
circled the most perfect figure in New
Mexico; his eyes gazed into hers, filled
with love and longing even as were
his own; his lips plucked from her
lips hisses more luscious and passion
ate than ever before melted the heart
of man f and Guadalupe, told him, by
word and eyes and heart, that she
loved him.
But at last midnight warned them,
and with one parting embrace, close
and long, the young man watched his
darling slip from his hold and ilee
toward the now silent ranche, while
whispering her. last words as benisons,
the sweetest of confessions in the
sweetest of tongues, "lo to aino," he
sought his saddle, and rode slowly
away into tho gloaming.
His way took him over the broad
plateau and down the narrow trail
toward Los Mcxos, until, upon the
little bridge that crossed the wild
stream at a point known as "La
Gorge do Diable," he paused and dis
mounted a moment to tighten a loos
ened girth.
Then again he breathed the words
of his love. "Yo te oma!"
The girth was fastened and the
trooper's foot in the stirrup, when,
rising from the dim obscurity behind
him. a dark figure whirled its arm
quickly in the air, something shot
silently toward the soldier, and an
instant later a lariat fell about his
neck, half-strangling him. Ho was
suddenly jerked backward to the floor
of the shaking bridge, and as his
frightened horse sped snorting up tho
winding path, he heard at his ear the
low, fiendish laugh of his rival Juan
d'Imray had caught him!
For a moment Emerson lay stunned
where he had fallen; then he sprang
to his feet, and his hands tore at the
tightening rope about his neck; but
a second time tho cord was pulled, and
again he fell.
Then, before he could rise, strong
arms bound him, and again the de
monical laugh rang in his ears.
"Ila, blue coat! Americanos! Dog!
You would steal my bride! Did you
think a d'Imray would retire because
you had entered the field? Fool! See,
I am going to drag you at my horse's
heels back to Hacienda Alvares, and
fling your carcass before the gate!
Donna Guadalupe will think the In
dians have killed you. She will weep,
then marry me. Do you hear at my
horse's heels? How you will bound
along the way!"
A shrill laugh rang among the rag
ged rocks, as though the fiend himself
Avere present in the gorge that bore
his name.
Emerson's heart stood still. Death
was a soldier's fate a noble death his
honor! But this Heavens! it was too
horrible.
"Pray. Snake, dog, spawn pray,
while I mount!"
With a whistle, the Spaniard called
his horse from the shadows behind
him and sprang to the saddle, one end
of the lariat fast about the pommel.
The horse and the two men were to
gether now upon the narrow bridge,
which creaked beneath their united
weight, while the angry waters
foamed madly on a hundred .feet be
neath them.
The soldier's tongue clove to the roof
of his mouth. He could not pray
and Guadalupe's kisses yet warm upou
his Hps.
"In thirty seconds we start!" hissed
Juan, drawing his lariat taut, and
gathering tho reins in his nervous
hands. "Pray, poor fool, for in less
than a moment you die!"
The lieutenant heard him not. Three
words only rang in his ears, "Yo te
amo!"
A cloud drifted across the face of
the moon; a shadow crept by the
mounted Spaniard along the narrow
bridge, and paused close to where
Emerson lay. Tho murderer turned
In his saddle.
"Come," - he hissed, hoarsely, "we
must go!" and he stuck spurs to his
horse.
But even at that moment' the moon
reappeared, a steely gleam flashed
across the tightened lariat, it parted,
and, rising from the shadow by the
victim, stood Jacque Dumox, a long
knife gleaming In his hand.
With a yell of rage, the maddened
Spaniard turned, and made as though
he would have ridden both soldier and
peon down; but Dumox raised his wea
pon and hurled it at tho advancing
steed with deadly aim.
The heavy steel hissed through the
night air, and buried itself to the hilt
in the . brown flank of the plunging
animal. There came a single agon
ized, half-human scream, ringing with
a shudder through the silence about,
and then, rearing madly, with one
blind spring, the horse and rider shot
downward into the black abyss be
neathdownward to headlong death
below and Los Mexos rcarej,l on!
ff
Lieutenant Emerson and his beau
tiful bride moved to California, and
the old don lived with them.. His
New Mexico hacienda was sold," and
the servants were discharged, except
one old man and his daughter, who are
still attached to the person of Alvares.
But the &tory of that terrible night
upon the bridge in La Gorgo de Diable
is known only to two. The third and
principal actor therein has never since
been seen. Los Mexos never gives up
its dead! Saturday Night.
THE HOUSE OF CLOSETS.'
OM Sherman Mansion in Connecticut
Has Sixty.
Among the trials of housekeepers
none is more common than that of lack
of closet room. If s;;e could only plan
a house herself! many a busy house
wife thinks. Her imagination revels
in the vision of big linen closets and
dainty china closets, of preserve closets
guarded by lock and key, of hall c!osets
for the children's straying overshoes,
of magazine closets for the constantly
accumulating periodicals. She is cer
tain that she could not have too many.
There is, however, one house, de
scribed in "An Old New England
Town." which has closet room enough
to Satisfy the most ambitious house
keeper: indeed, it is possible, consid
ering the inexorable demands of house
cleaning limes, that one might even
be willing to dispense with a few of
the treasure places. The house is the
old Sherman mansion, of. Fairfield,
Connecticut, and is said to contain no
less than sixty closets closets within
closets and closets within closets with
in closets.
At the time that it was built it was
the finest residence in that region.
Tradition declares that when the par
lor carpets, ordered from abroad, ar
rived seven feet too long, it was de
cided to build an extension at each
end of the parlor in order to accom
modate them. Certain it is that the
wings were added and cellars it has
three and closets.
During the last years of her life Mrs.
Sherman was an invalid and unable
to go into the second story, yet so
marvelous was her memory that she
knew precisely all the contents of hrr
great family of closets, and constantly
dispensed the linen, flannel, calico,
hams, pickles and preserves, kept in
their separate hiding places.
Of late years the old mansion has
become church property, and Mrs.
Sherman's successors have found the
closets a not wholly, unmitigated de
light. It is said, however, that the
minister submits with grace, cultivat
ing a spirit of levity when a dog. a
book, a child, a suit of clothes, a pot
of jam or next Sunday's sermon goes
into strict-retirement for an hour, a
month or a year. It is sure to be dis
covered sooner or later in one of tho
closets. Youth's Companion.
To Cement Glass anil Iron.
Common alum melted in an Iron
spoon over the lite forms a good ce
ment for joining glass and iron to
gether. It is useful for holding tho
glass reservoir of a lamp to its metal
base and for stopping cracks about the
base. Its great merit for this pur
pose is ,ihat paraffin will not pene
trate iU
THE COMPOSITE C1RU
Th eyes of lair Jenny we'll give her,. .
The smooth classic brow of dear Lou,
The nose of Marie then deliver,
The red, smiling mouth of sweet Prue;
The hair o Amanda, the figure
Of Gertrude, of Helen the smile
And then if you'll add but the fortune
Of Sally, I'll take her on trial.
William Wallace Whitelock, ia Puck. .
umor.o
Lena "What made Fred act so fun
ny when I accepted him?" Emma
'0h, lie's just in love with you, goosie.
He will soon get over that." Brooklyn
Life.
"Now, then,"' fiaid the professor at
the dental college, "what are the last
teeth that come?" "False teeth," re
plied a bright freshman. Philadelphia
Ledger.
"Say, pa, it says here in 'Lady Clare
I trow they did not part in scorn.
What does that mean?" "That's the
poetic way of saying 'you bet.' "Chi
cago Record-Herald.
Bertha "How shall we seat the fa
mous antiquarian collector?" Ethel
VOfi, put him next to grandmamma;
she'll tell you some scandals many
years old." Brooklyn Life.
Bill "I see they are talking or hav
ing a chair of football in one of our
colleges." Jill "I suppose it will be
in order to have a broken back and a
fractured leg." Yonkers Statesman.
Truth crushed to earth will rise again,
Sadder, perhaps, and wiser;
And sometimes, not until she's ta'en
A little early riser!
Milwaukee Sentinel.
First Child "My father's got so
much money he doesn't know how to
spend it." Second Child "That's noth
ing. My father's got so much money,
that mother can't spend It." The New.
Yorker. .
The Peroxide's Husband "I notice
that dark hair is coming back into
vogue. I suppose that means you'll
be wearing it again." The Peroxide
Blonde-"Me? I'll dye first !"-Ba!ti-morc
American.
"He wanted to bet, but I just told,
him that 'betting was a fool's argu- -ment.'
and that settled the discus
sion." "Oh, I can't believe that you
shut him up that easily." "I'll bet
you I did." -Philadelphia Press.
The natives of hot Mozambique
Called one of their number a triyue.
Jle wore for a fob
A china door-knob,
And an earring he stuck in his chique.
Columbia Jester.
"So," demanded the cross-examining
lawyer, "you desire to make a cate
gorical denial of all these charges, do
you?" "No, sor," answered the wit
ness, "but I'll say there ain't a worrud
of truth in any of them.' Chicago
Record-Herald.
Teacher . (to class in English gram
mar) "Class, what is the feminine
corresponding to the masculine 'stag?'
No answer from class for some time.
Hand finally raised in corner. Teach- -er
"Well, John, what is ft?" Pupil
"Afternoon tea." Judge.
"Do you know the wages of sin?"
asked the dominie sternly of Johnny,
who was busily tying a can to a dog's
tail. "Is dis a sin?" queried John,
without looking up. "It certainly is."
"Well, I don't want no wages for dis;
I'm doiu' it fer fun." Houston Post.
"Your first duty as a lawyer," said
the old judge to the young attorney,
"is to see that justice is done." "Oh.
of course," replied the youthful di
sciple of Blackstone. "I've noticed
that the lawyer who succeeds in doing
her the oftenest gets the biggest fees!"
Chicago Daily News. '
Mrs. Newlywed "No, I can't say
that I think much of my new sewing
machine. It is disappointing." Mrs.
Oldgirl "Why, it is a very good make.
What seems to be the trouble?" Mrs.
Newlywed "I don't know exactly, but
when I tried to sew some buttons on
Mr. Newlywed's shirts yesterday it
broke every last one of them." Cin
cinnati Times-Star.
Child's Toint of View. .
A large and stout woman called on
a friend, and while waiting for her
was stared at so intently by tne
friend's little children that she asked
one of them:
"What are you staring at, little
girl?" 1 v
"Why, you se mamma said" yc.i
were so narrow in your views, an I
was wondering what view she got."
Philadelphia Ledges.