L
 
 A NYMPH 
 
 OF THE WE ST 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 HOWARD SEELY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 1888
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1888, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 TO 
 
 SAMUEL DUFFIELD OSBORNE 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO 
 LITERARY SYMPATHY AND FRIENDSHIP 
 
 2072161
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 i. 
 
 MIDWAY between Lampasas and San Saba, the 
 Colorado Kiver runs a wild, romantic, winding 
 stream. At times its placid current flows evenly over 
 dimpling shoals and gleaming pebbles. Again, the 
 waters deepen, and by flower-bordered banks its cur- 
 rent eddies sullen, slow, and grand. But there is one 
 place where the river plunges madly downward to 
 roar at the base of precipitous rocks and writhe over 
 bowlders in its shallow bed. Overhead dark hem- 
 locks curtain this rage of waters from the gaze of 
 day. The sunlight enters only by stealth, and then 
 in tremulous pencils. At such moments, against the 
 somber green of the swaying pines, the red -bird 
 flashes, or the indigo-bird is seen a living sapphire 
 in the sudden light ; and the rippling melody of 
 rival mocking-birds enters the solemn aisles as though 
 the gate of heaven were left ajar. Within these aisles 
 the foot sinks luxuriously amid cushions of hemlock- 
 boughs and pine-needles ; the tall, time-scarred trunks 
 lift themselves dimly like pillars of some leafy Gothic 
 dome ; the vague ranks of forest exhale their cool, 
 damp spicery. All Nature is hushed and wan. Only 
 the river's moan comes faintly ; and everywhere
 
 6 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 roundabout, and pervading all things, are the twi- 
 light and seclusion beloved by the dryad. 
 
 Whether Miss Cynthia Dallas, on a certain mild 
 February afternoon, was at all impressed by any of 
 these sylvan suggestions, I can not say. Her un- 
 tutored mind was as yet guiltless of mythology, and 
 no vision of straying god or goddess, no whimsical 
 train of nymph and faun, had hitherto invaded her 
 slumbering fancy. Yet, swinging lightly in a netted 
 hammock, within an innermost recess of this spicy 
 vault, just where a slanting beam of sunlight fell full 
 upon her graceful figure, she might well have been 
 mistaken for some wood-nymph surprised amid her 
 favorite haunts so quaint a figure was she, and yet 
 so essentially in keeping with the woodland stillness, 
 of which she seemed a part. She reclined at ease, and 
 lazily, as the hammock swung, noted the soft play of 
 sunlight through the boughs above, and the trembling 
 arabesques of spray and shadow. Her hands, holding 
 a small leathern whip with deer-foot handle, were 
 clasped behind her head, at once with graceful and 
 careless abandon. A blonde beauty, somewhat sun- 
 tanned and freckle-strewn, her attire a plain blue 
 woolen gown, that clung almost tenderly to the 
 charming curves of her figure ; but, swinging thus, 
 and with a little silver spur upon the shoe of her left 
 foot, tinkling as she swung, a fascinating picture, cer- 
 tainly, for some stumbling Strephon. 
 
 Of such amatory interruption Miss Cynthia was 
 happily unconscious. The dark lashes that fringed 
 her eyes of velvet-blue had a certain deprecatory 
 curve, as though they waved a playful warning against 
 all approaches of the tender passion. Mischief, not
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 7 
 
 sentiment, as yet dwelt behind the roguish lids. The 
 curves of her rosy lips swept upward at the corners, 
 where two little lines, like accents, gave her an elfish 
 look, and mocked the sweetness of the mouth with 
 subtle irony. And yet, so graciously had Nature 
 touched and molded the face, so charmingly lavished 
 upon this woodland maiden a wealth of tresses of 
 auburn gold tresses amid which the sun loved to 
 linger, and glint his reckless admiration that the 
 impression left was at once piquant and bewitching. 
 Possibly it was owing to this that the sun sought her 
 out so persistently in her dim retreat, this very after- 
 noon, thinking, with pardonable fascination, he had 
 found his Daphne. 
 
 I must protest, however, that this fascination of 
 Phoebus was not without its detractions. Certain 
 locks upon the top of Miss Cynthia's head, where the 
 golden hue had been bleached into a lighter tint, be- 
 trayed the damaging tendencies of his caresses, as well 
 as a reckless disregard for the bondage of head-gear. 
 Miss Cynthia was at present bareheaded. I regret 
 that this negligence had become a habit. There was, 
 I believe, a felt something lying on the ground among 
 the pine-needles, which, from the fact that it was 
 decorated with a ribbon or two, and a gaudy wood- 
 pecker's wing at an extravagant angle, like a sail upon 
 the port tack, may have been once intended for a be- 
 coming bonnet. But, at the unexpected moment of 
 the young lady's introduction, a pet antelope fawn 
 was attempting to browse upon it, and, from present 
 indications, meeting with gratifying success. The 
 antelope was assisting his prandial experiments by a 
 vicious attack upon the hat with his sharp fore-feet.
 
 8 A NYMPH OF TEE WEST. 
 
 A grave hound, seated upon his haunches at a respect- 
 ful distance from this serious campaign against mod- 
 ern dress, regarded the antelope's sincere efforts with 
 a solemn approval that was certainly flattering. Cyn- 
 thia, her abstracted eyes still lost in contemplation of 
 the swaying canopy of green above her head, or watch- 
 ing through a sudden vista the calm poise of a gray 
 hawk circling aloft in the limitless ether, was rapt 
 and all unconscious. 
 
 Suddenly she raised her head with a start. A 
 sharp, articulate cry broke the stillness. The ante- 
 lope dashed away in sudden panic to a remote corner 
 of the bovver, where he stood eying her askance a 
 few feathers from the gaudy wing still clinging to 
 his mouth. The great hound raised himself with a 
 preliminary stretch and monstrous yawn, as if ex- 
 pecting a departure. 
 
 The girl caught up the luckless hat with a gesture 
 of annoyance, and a snap of her whip in the direc- 
 tion of the terrified fawn a movement at which the 
 hound, with drooping ears and tail, was stricken into 
 an attitude of eloquent reproach. 
 
 "Not you, old boy," she said kindly, patting his 
 broad head ; "but his impudence yonder ! He knows 
 it, the cute rascal, and he'll hear from me later ! 
 P'raps he thinks I'm sittin' up nights makin' lovely 
 hats jes' to give him a chance to try his new teeth. 
 Naturally not, I reckon. But, Aulus," she con- 
 tinued interrogatively, addressing the grave hound, 
 " I'm sure I heard a noise, old boy, didn't you ? 
 What was thet ? Didn't you get to hear it ? " 
 
 The hound, raising his ears with the droll inter- 
 est of dogs of that family, walked gravely to the edge
 
 A NYMPH .OF THE WEST. 9 
 
 of a cliff on which the bower abutted, and looked 
 solemnly down. Suddenly his tail began to wag with 
 lively interest. The girl sprang from the hammock 
 with a lithe activity that left it swinging furiously 
 behind her. Creeping forward cautiously beside him, 
 she gazed below. Far, abrupt, and sheer, down the 
 precipitous descent, she beheld a man floundering in 
 the rapids. A dog, dripping wet and timorously 
 wretched, was following him. It was the latter 
 which had awakened the interest of the grave Aulus. 
 
 Both were in evident distress, and endeavoring to 
 effect a crossing by leaping from bowlder to bowlder 
 amid the whirling waters. But the rocks were slip- 
 pery and moss-grown, the current dizzy and swift. 
 All at once the man's feet slipped on a treacherous 
 stone, and he tottered heavily backward. He sat 
 down rather than fell upon his wretched dog, who 
 was following him closely with frantic leaps. The 
 animal uttered an agonizing yelp, and with a great 
 splash both dog and man were precipitated into the 
 angry waters. 
 
 The girl threw her head back and laughed long 
 and musically in her sylvan bower. At the unaccus- 
 tomed sound a mocking-bird, that had strayed into 
 her retreat and perched upon a high limb, apparently 
 for rest and meditation, turned his pretty head to 
 one side and listened attentively, as if about to favor 
 her with an imitation. The antelope trotted coyly 
 up to her. Aulus, with rapidly wagging tail and 
 whimpering muzzle, testified the humor of the catas- 
 trophe from a canine standpoint. In this sympa- 
 thetic merriment Cynthia half reclined between her 
 pets, one arm about the hound's neck, the other
 
 10 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 thrown caressingly around the already forgiven fawn. 
 The mocking-bird looked down approvingly, and 
 actually improvised a few bars of bubbling melody by 
 way of comment. Fully three minutes elapsed in 
 this harmonious interchange of opinion. Then the 
 girl crept forward again and peered below. The man 
 had extricated himself from the water and was seated, 
 chilly and miserable, upon a large rock in the middle 
 of the stream. 
 
 Cynthia now noticed that he carried a gun, the 
 barrels of which had been filled with water during his 
 recent immersion. He was occupied in emptying the 
 fowling-piece, squeezing the water from his dripping 
 clothing, and regarding with general discomfiture his 
 pitiable plight. The dog at his side, with cowering 
 limbs and shivering hide, was hardly less miserable 
 and wretched, and expressed in pathetic dumb-show 
 his conviction that matters could hardly be worse 
 at least from a dog's limited point of view. Two 
 large and heavy feathered objects, which the man had 
 just cast down upon the rock, completed the group. 
 
 "What do you think, old boy?" said the girl, 
 affectionately, taking the hound by both his large 
 ears and gazing critically into his intelligent eyes ; 
 "had I better help thet feller or not ?" 
 
 Aulus wagged his tail and looked interested. All 
 at once he raised his head, and bayed loud and deep 
 with a sharp recoil, as if he stood in awe of his own 
 vocal efforts. Apparently this was emphatic advice 
 that assistance was necessary. Having so delivered 
 himself, he was immediately overcome by a silent 
 melancholy, in droll contrast to his recent animation. 
 
 The girl regarded him anxiously.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. H 
 
 "Thar ! I told you so, old boy ; if you will insist 
 on exercisin' thet awful big mouth o' yours, thet bite 
 the old badger give ye yesterday '11 never get well 
 never in this world, sir ! Hurt you tongue, didn't 
 it ? Knew it would ! My friend," she added, with 
 a considerate gravity that was touching, stroking his 
 great neck, "I reckon, on general principles, you 
 better go slow with your bark." 
 
 Yet her brief colloquy with the indiscreet Aulus 
 was evidently not without its weight. At least Cyn- 
 thia acted upon it promptly. She leaned far over the 
 cliff, holding on by the low branches of a scarred and 
 time-beaten hemlock. A sunburst from the nodding 
 boughs above fell full upon her red gold head and 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, stranger ! " 
 
 Her voice echoed musically down the rocks. Above 
 the noise of the rushing waters, above the tossing of 
 the sighing pines, it reached the ear of the hapless way- 
 farer like a silver bell. The man started and swept 
 the sides of the ravine with a surprised and earnest 
 glance. Suddenly his gaze became fixed. He had 
 espied Cynthia. To the unfortunate sportsman in 
 the gloomy chasm, the bright face peering so curiously 
 down upon him from its coigne of vantage, was like 
 an inspiration in the midst of his distress. His fancy 
 transfigured her with all the graces of hope. 
 
 "Hilloa!" 
 
 The reply came clearly up to Cynthia. She put 
 her hand to her mouth to assist her voice, and shouted 
 down a word of homely advice : 
 
 "Throw them turkeys into the river ! Don't you 
 see thet's what's keepin' you back ? Make for the
 
 12 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 shore you've jes' left, and go down the bank a little ! 
 I'll be down and help you over with a boat d'rectly." 
 
 Then the bright animated vignette was gone from 
 his fascinated eyes. Nothing was left but the precipi- 
 tous wall of the ravine, with its fringing mantle of 
 hemlock and pine. As if in mockery, a fitful breeze 
 stirred their pliant boughs, and they bent toward him 
 with a grave obeisance an ironical acknowledgment, 
 it seemed, of the favor they had just permitted. It 
 was as though the very genius of those piny heights 
 had ventured to address him, and then withdrawn, 
 embarrassed and abashed. 
 
 The man on the rock remained for a few moments 
 gazing upward. Possibly his thoughts had something 
 of this suggestion, lie smiled, at any rate, with a 
 frank good humor that threw a genial light upon 
 strong features, bronzed on forehead and cheek by ex- 
 posure, and partially hidden beneath a light, curling 
 beard, more carefully trimmed than usual on the 
 frontier. Although begrimed and generally disordered 
 from his recent contact with the river's bed, there was 
 much about his dress to indicate the gentleman. He 
 wore knee-boots, well made and of modern fashion. 
 His jaunty hunting-jacket had a certain cut and fin- 
 ish the metal buttons being embossed with trophies 
 of the chase. The hat upon his head was new and of 
 an excellent quality of felt. What was more unusual, 
 it was becoming, and seemed in keeping with the ath- 
 letic build, the manly face and bearing of the figure it 
 surmounted. The gun he carried was breech-loading 
 and double-barreled. A cameo ring graced the hand 
 that held it. Altogether he looked the picture of a 
 comfortable ranchman, overtaken by embarrassing cir-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 13 
 
 cumstances ; in need of nothing so much as a warm 
 fireside and a dash here and there of soap and water. 
 
 Such was probably his own opinion ; for, after a 
 few moments' hesitation, he acted with promptness 
 and dispatch. He cast the two turkeys into the 
 stream, hardly stopping to watch them as they were 
 borne away on the rapid current, to float to some 
 vantage-point below him. Then he looked hurriedly 
 around a second, shivered a little, pushed his wretched 
 dog off the rock into the water, and, quite indifferent 
 to the pitiful yelp with which the favor was received, 
 abruptly followed the animal. Alternately wading 
 and leaping from rock to rock, both gained the shore 
 the dog immediately shaking himself and dispensing 
 a gratuitous shower that effectually drenched his mas- 
 ter where the river had forborne. Having thus rudely 
 reciprocated previous kindnesses, he shrunk at once 
 into an abject and shivering spectacle of woe, with an 
 unconsciousness of wrong-doing, as sublime as it was 
 dog-like. 
 
 The man recoiled, opened his mouth, as if in 
 angry protest, abandoned the idea with grimness, 
 and then looked wrathfully around for a stone, as 
 more direct and persuasive in canine logic. Finding, 
 as usual in such emergencies, that missiles were not 
 available, and that he was confronted by bowlders and 
 tree-trunks only, he abandoned a temporary impulse 
 to personate Ajax, and burst into a hearty laugh. 
 The dog, a handsome shepherd, which had mean- 
 while awaited dissolution with pathetic resignation, 
 took courage at once, and thankfully wagged a drip- 
 ping tail that distributed a watery benediction upon 
 the surrounding rocks. Then he was apparently
 
 14 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 rendered delirious by the prospect of further advance 
 dry-shod, and became a frolicsome nuisance, demon- 
 strative, unduly familiar, and generally unbearable. 
 The man interposed a few kicks of his heavy boot by 
 way of commentary upon this obtrusive pleasantry, 
 which was appreciated and had a salutary effect. 
 
 But here both were surprised in their diversions 
 by a loud call down the river that indescribable 
 vocal effort which indicates a search. The man re- 
 called himself, as if with regret for his forgetfulness, 
 and hurried away over the rocks along the shore, 
 closely followed by his gamboling dog.
 
 II. 
 
 CYNTHIA awaited the stranger. She was seated 
 in a flat-bottomed boat at a wide bend of the river, 
 where the water that raged above dimpled past her 
 in sullen eddies. She had but lately rowed across, 
 and the oars, thrown carelessly down, were beaded 
 and dripping. With maiden recklessness, she had 
 beached the little craft high and dry upon the rocks. 
 
 Still in no sense discomposed by the shock of 
 landing, and entirely serene as to possible damage 
 to the boat from the recent collision, she sat quietly 
 in the stern, her hands crossed in her lap, but her 
 alert eyes glancing eagerly up and down the bank 
 in expectation. Evidently the approaching meeting 
 had constrained her to greater formality in dress than 
 usual, for she had donned the unfortunate hat. It 
 now proTed to be simply a soft felt, the brim of 
 which had been caught up at one side and garnished 
 with a ribbon or two, and the wing already men- 
 tioned. A poor substitute in feminine eyes, doubt- 
 less, for the exquisite follies of civilization, but worn 
 amid her present surroundings with a picturesqueness 
 and dash that were not without their charm. Beyond 
 her the dark river, flowing with its slow but irre- 
 sistible current, swept calmly on its way. The faint
 
 16 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 green of trees upon the farther bank, the sharp out- 
 lines of rock and bowlder, framed her graceful figure 
 against a rugged background. The noise of the wa- 
 ters above came to her ear but faintly. High over her 
 head a red-shafted flicker, tapping monotonously upon 
 a withered limb, accented the lonely stillness of the 
 ravine ; while at intervals a sharp yelp of despair 
 drifted across the river where the abandoned Aulus, 
 distinctly discernible in the dim light, mounted 
 guard at the boat-landing and bewailed her absence. 
 
 The girl sighed regretfully. She waved her hand 
 from the boat in reassurance to the faithful animal. 
 
 "Keep quiet, old man ! I'm comin' back d'rect- 
 ly ! " she shouted. 
 
 But her reflections were less amiable. 
 
 " I reckon thet chap allows me to be pretty ac- 
 commodatin', waiting to ferry him over till nigh onto 
 sundown. P'raps he thinks it's my reg'lar business 
 rowin' half-drownded men and wet dogs across the 
 Colorado. P'raps," she continued, glancing down in 
 the bottom of the boat where the dripping bodies of 
 the turkeys she had picked up on the way over were 
 lying "p'raps he reckons it's pleasant entertainment 
 haulin' his game into the boat and gettin' soaked into 
 the bargain. I wonder now, naturally, if thet's his 
 opinion." 
 
 But here a mournful succession of bays and howls 
 from the aggrieved Aulus interrupted her medita- 
 tions. 
 
 She sprang to her feet, impatiently seizing an oar, 
 as if to push the boat off and recross the river. A 
 brief moment she stood thus erect, her blue eyes flash- 
 ing, the indignant blood mantling her cheek, as she
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 17 
 
 placed the blade of the oar upon a neighboring rock 
 and threw the whole weight of her lithe body upon it. 
 But her efforts were futile. The unwieldy scow re- 
 mained fixed and immovable. Then there was a sharp 
 clatter among the rocks, the underbrush upon the 
 bank parted suddenly, and the dilatory stranger, fol- 
 lowed by his effusive dog, stood revealed before her 
 eyes. He stopped abruptly, smiled, and, dropping 
 the butt of his gun to the ground, leaned upon it with 
 both hands upon the muzzle. The dog, evidently 
 surprised at the sudden meeting, sat down at once 
 upon his haunches, and, with panting jaws, appeared 
 to be including in one tremendous grin the whole en- 
 counter and the afternoon's incidents. 
 
 Thus surprised, Cynthia's resolution vanished be- 
 fore that charming embarrassment which sometimes 
 overtakes her sex. She stood a moment irresolute, 
 surveying the easy self-possession of the man before 
 her ; the next, the oar, with a shower of spray, 
 dropped awkwardly from her nervous grasp into the 
 stream. Eeckless of the effect of this accident upon 
 her future rowing, she was immediately overcome with 
 solicitude for her personal appearance, attempted to 
 adjust a straggling lock of hair, and, finally, catching 
 up her fallen hat and setting it quickly on her head, 
 sat down, a very bewitching picture of confusion, and 
 yet not without an effort to assert herself that only 
 increased her discomfiture. 
 
 The man looked amused, but straightway acted 
 with the decision of a frontiersman. He glanced at 
 the floating oar. Then he stepped quickly forward, 
 placed his gun in the boat, and, lifting the bow clear 
 of the rocks by sheer strength, shoved it off into the
 
 18 A NYMPH OF TUB WEST. 
 
 current, stepping in adroitly as he did so. His dog, 
 with the imitative faculty of his kind, attempted to 
 follow suit, but, the force of the launching being con- 
 siderable, only succeeded in catching one foot on the 
 gunwale, where he hung a miserable second, until, 
 falling in with a loud splash, he began at once to 
 swim after the boat, with the usual whines of distress. 
 
 Strangely enough, it needed this pitiful incident 
 to restore Cynthia to her natural composure. With 
 her affection for dumb animals her assurance returned. 
 She leaned forward and glanced boldly up at the 
 stranger. He was standing erect, using the remain- 
 ing oar as a paddle, and urging the boat swiftly in 
 pursuit of the lost one, which, already in the sweep 
 of the current, was drifting rapidly away. 
 
 " Don't you reckon you better haul thet poor pup 
 in, jes' naturally ?" she inquired, fixing her critical 
 eyes upon him. 
 
 The man glanced at her in amazement, and burst 
 into a ringing laugh. 
 
 "Certainly, if you say so," he said, good-natured- 
 ly, arresting his oar. " But to lift him. in now means 
 a shower-bath for both of us. It's a neat little way 
 with him in return for such favors," he added, with 
 pardonable irony, in view of his recent experience. 
 " However, I can stand it," glancing down at his 
 dripping boots and trousers; "but I thought you'd 
 object, you sec." 
 
 " Don't you worry about me," returned Cynthia, 
 frankly. " Them turkeys settled thet ! " She paused, 
 and whipped her bespattered skirt about her pretty 
 ankles by way of comment. Then, with a toss of her 
 head, she went on :
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 19 
 
 "I reckon thet gobbler'll weigh nigh onto twenty- 
 five pounds. I had all I could swing to. It was nip 
 and tuck for a while whether he'd pull me in or I him, 
 but/ beat ! " 
 
 She laughed, and touched the great turkey with 
 her foot, as she exulted over her exploit in girlish 
 triumph. 
 
 Her companion, having his attention for the first 
 time attracted to the recovery of his game in this di- 
 rect fashion, thanked her warmly, and applauded her 
 achievement. His praise was received with apparent 
 gratification, and a sudden revelation of brilliant 
 teeth and becoming dimples. 
 
 Meanwhile the struggling dog had overtaken the 
 drifting boat, and was making impotent efforts to 
 clamber in, falling back repeatedly, with agonized 
 whining. 
 
 The girl sprang forward suddenly and caught 
 him by the collar. She attempted to lift him in 
 bodily, but without success. With her hand still 
 upon the leathern strap, she turned impatiently to 
 the stranger : 
 
 "Are you going to stand there, as if you was 
 moonstruck, and let your poor dog drown natural- 
 ly ? " she inquired. 
 
 Thus besought, the man stooped down, and, with- 
 out more ado, lifted the dog into the boat, receiving 
 at once the customary tribute. It was delivered, on 
 the present occasion, with a frankness and devotion 
 to detail that made it noteworthy. In addition to 
 drenching the two in the boat, it rendered occupancy 
 of the seats unpleasant, and boating an actual hard- 
 ship.
 
 20 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 During this animated cascade, Cynthia covered 
 her face with her hat and shook with laughter. The 
 man turned his hack upon his dog with mani- 
 fest disgust. As soon as it was safe to do so, he 
 faced about and regarded Cynthia with grim amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 "He did right smart, didn't he?" she inquired, 
 looking up brightly at him, her eyes still dancing 
 with her recent merriment. 
 
 "For an ordinary dog," replied her companion, 
 quietly, "a modest, unobtrusive, unassuming brute, I 
 should think he did. Of course, if he has any ambi- 
 tion of becoming a water-spout any little ungratified 
 longings in that direction which he may have hitherto 
 concealed from me I refrain from expressing an 
 opinion." 
 
 Much of this last speech was necessarily lost upon 
 Cynthia. Yet, while a trifle overawed by the fluency 
 of her companion, she realized, in a general way, that 
 it was ironical, and reciprocated his sentiments. The 
 smile that still lingered in her roguish eyes vanished 
 as she concealed her ignorance by an emphatic agree- 
 ment. 
 
 " I reckon so," she said, quickly. Then, casting a 
 sudden glance down the river "Don't you reckon 
 there'd be more sense in gettin' thet oar, than jes' 
 wastin' daylight talkin' about your dog?" 
 
 The brusqueness of this rebuke was lessened by a 
 quiver of mirth that twitched the corners of her rosy 
 mouth and flashed from her mischievous eyes. The 
 man looked at her searchingly and with a grave sur- 
 prise at her abruptness. "Without a word he turned 
 the boat again into the current, and began to paddle
 
 A NYMPft OF THE WEST. 21 
 
 with a rapidity that seemed an apology for his recent 
 negligence. 
 
 Until the oar had been recovered, and they were 
 rowing back against the sullen current, the silence 
 that had fallen between them both had been in 
 marked contrast to their previous merriment. This 
 increased so manifestly as they proceeded, that Cynthia 
 began to be distressed. 
 
 The sun no longer visited the river in occasional 
 shafts and stray glimpses. It was sinking below the 
 wooded heights. The afternoon was declining. A 
 dim twilight seemed to fall from above, and dark 
 shadows were gathering along the shore. A vague 
 chill crept over the river. The stranger shivered and 
 suddenly addressed her. It brought a certain relief 
 to Cynthia. 
 
 " Where do you live, young lady ? " 
 
 The girl experienced a delicious tremor at this 
 form of address. His voice was low and deep, and 
 there was a quiet dignity about his manner. 
 
 "Up at the ranch back of the bluff." 
 
 "Whose ranch?" 
 
 "Father's." 
 
 "And his name ?" 
 
 "Dallas Alcides Dallas, but they call him 'Al' 
 for short that is, some do. But others call him 
 'Allsides' Buck says it's 'cause he's uncertain in 
 his votin'. They can't allers count on him for the 
 Democratic ticket. My name's Cynthia." 
 
 Her companion, having already experienced the 
 divine despair of the average Eepublican in Texas, 
 was not wanting in his appreciation of the woes of 
 the elder Dallas. Howbeit, he made no political
 
 22 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 comment beyond a grave lifting of the eyebrows. 
 But the name haunted him. 
 
 " Cynthia," he said, repeating it slowly " Cynthia 
 Dallas. How do you get to your ranch, Miss Cyn- 
 thia?" 
 
 "Not Miscynthia but plain Cynthia," she said; 
 "or 'Cynthy,' as father says, but I hate that. You 
 can call me Cynthia." 
 
 Her companion looked up with a smile as he noted 
 the privilege conveyed by her emphasis. 
 
 "Thanks," he said, simply. "Well, Cynthia, do 
 you suppose your father has any room at his ranch 
 for a miserable, tired, half-drowned hunter a 'ten- 
 der-foot ' we'd better call him; for he was fool enough 
 to let his horse walk off and leave him on the bald 
 prairie while he was looking up a turkey-roost ?" 
 
 Cynthia's curiosity and sympathy were awakened 
 at once. 
 
 " Your pony walked off and left you, did he ? 
 Well, now ! " She laughed. Then, as her frontier 
 instincts asserted themselves, there was a little dis- 
 dain in her manner as she inquired, "Can't you tie 
 the cow-boy's hitch ? " 
 
 Her companion felt the implied slur, for he colored 
 visibly under his beard. 
 
 "I must have been careless, I suppose, or else the 
 knot slipped," he replied, apologetically. "At any 
 rate, that's the state of the case : no horse ; rider wet, 
 tired, and hungry ; dog ditto. Do you suppose your 
 father can give shelter for the night to two tramps ? " 
 
 "I reckon," said the girl, simply. She stooped 
 to pat the dog's wet head compassionately. " Poor 
 ' Ditto ' ! " she murmured. Then, looking up quickly
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 23 
 
 with a mischievous glance, " What's the name of the 
 other tramp ? " 
 
 " He calls himself Henry Bruce for want of a bet- 
 ter, and he hails from the * Mesquite Valley Banch,' 
 of which you may have heard," returned her com- 
 panion, showing by a humorous twinkle that her sar- 
 casm was appreciated. 
 
 " The * Mesquite Valley Eanch ! ' " exclaimed Cyn- 
 thia, with an astonishment of manner that she did 
 not attempt to conceal. " Ye don't say ! Well, 
 Henry Bruce, I don't reckon you'll have any call to 
 complain of the treatment you'll get from father. 
 Barrin' the fact that a stray steer o' yours gets into 
 our corn-bin now and then, he hasn't anything to 
 complain of." 
 
 All at once her thoughts reverted to the ranch- 
 man's straying horse. Dumb animals possessed a 
 peculiar interest for Cynthia. 
 
 "Won't that poor pony of yours get a whalin', 
 naturally?" she inquired. "I wonder where he is 
 now?" 
 
 "I suppose his present address is ' Texas On the 
 Wing,'" replied her companion, with gravity. "On 
 general principles, yes, I think I may safely say he'll 
 have an intelligent idea later of the capacity of a 
 quirt. But I shall have plenty of time to consider 
 all that, and possibly to get over my temper before I 
 see him again. Meanwhile," he added, with a shrug 
 of his broad, shoulders, "I'm feeling a little chilly, 
 and very much in need of dry clothing. Excuse me, 
 Cynthia, but if you could hurry matters a little, and 
 get me home, it would be better for all concerned." 
 
 The girl responded with promptness to this appeal.
 
 24: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " I reckon you're right," she said, quickly, and 
 with a sudden blush that was very becoming. " It's 
 mighty slack in me to be so careless, sittin' here 
 botherin' you with questions, and you freezing to 
 death. Hand me thet paddle." 
 
 She pointed out a small oar that had hitherto 
 lain unperceived in the bottom of the boat. 
 
 "Now, if you'll row for all you're worth against 
 this current, I'll have you at the landing in a jiffy. 
 We're almost there, anyhow." 
 
 So saying, she put the paddle behind her, and, 
 with a dexterous sweep of it, turned the boat's head 
 to the shore. A large, flat rock in a sheltered nook, 
 near which several stakes had been driven into the 
 river's bed, was visible a short distance ahead. The 
 expectant "Aulus" a solemn sentinel in the shadow 
 of the great bowlders that rose behind and about him 
 awaited them with nervous impatience. It was 
 the landing-place. 
 
 A few strokes of oar and paddle brought them 
 there. From the twilight of the river the boat passed 
 with a sharp, grating sound into the gloom of the 
 precipitous bank. Henry Bruce stepped forward with 
 the rope in his hand and fastened it firmly. But 
 hardly had the bow touched the rock, when the clumsy 
 hound sprang into the scow, and, after greeting his 
 mistress with uncouth caresses, began a jealous in- 
 spection of the stranger's dog. The result was ap- 
 parently unsatisfactory, for he uttered a low growl, 
 and the hair upon his back and neck began to bristle. 
 
 "Down, Aulus!" cried the girl, tapping him 
 smartly with the paddle. "Aren't you ashamed of 
 yourself, sir ? "
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 25 
 
 The hound subsided, and became abject at once. 
 Bruce had already taken a strap from his pocket, and, 
 after securing the turkeys' legs together, thrown the 
 heavy birds across his shoulder. He was waiting to 
 assist her. Cynthia stooped, and quite unaffectedly 
 handed him his gun, which he had for the moment 
 forgotten. There was something Amazonian in the 
 gesture. The gentleman received it with grave court- 
 esy ; then he took the plump little hand which she 
 extended to him frankly, and she leaped lightly upon 
 the rock, followed by her attendant dogs. It was as 
 if Diana, the huntress, were returning from an aquat- 
 ic excursion. 
 
 A steep, winding path, skirting rock and bowlder, 
 led to the heights above. The girl at once took the 
 lead, calling to her companion to follow her. She 
 climbed quickly up the ascent with a practiced ease 
 that showed her familiarity with her surroundings. 
 The very dogs were scarcely less agile. Here and 
 there she stopped, flushed and panting from her 
 efforts, to regard Bruce from some superior point, 
 and to instruct him in his future progress. Some- 
 times she would clasp the sweeping boughs of an ad- 
 venturous cedar, and, held thus against the curtain 
 of green overhead, smile back at him with roguish 
 encouragement. There was something in this friend- 
 ly espionage that was stimulating to the sportsman. 
 He felt the inferiority of his sex under circumstances 
 where it should have been triumphant. He redoubled 
 his exertions among the slippery stones and roots, 
 but, encumbered as he was with his gun and the 
 heavy game, his progress was necessarily slow. At 
 length, out of breath and quite exhausted with his
 
 20 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 hard climbing, he reached the elevated plateau. The 
 girl was awaiting him. 
 
 As he stepped out from the dense fringe of pine 
 and hemlock that bordered the river, the level rays of 
 the declining sun at first dazzled him. It was like 
 emerging from some twilight cloister into the open 
 day. A small cotton-field, with shreds of the woolly 
 crop still clinging to the dry and withered plants, 
 stretched before him in dull monotony. Beyond it, 
 amid a grove of great pecans that formed a favorable 
 barrier against unwelcome northers, stood a small 
 stone house, with its tall adobe chimney. Smoke 
 was curling from the latter, bringing with it sugges- 
 tions of comfort that appealed to the wayfarer. The 
 sun was going down a great globe of fire behind 
 the low hills to the west. There were the clanking 
 of stock-bells upon the air, the bleating of sheep, and 
 other sounds which albeit unmelodious in them- 
 selves are not without their compensations upon the 
 frontier. The young man turned to Cynthia. 
 
 She was seated on a fallen tree, engaged in loosing 
 the antelope which she had tethered to one of the 
 branches before descending the cliff. The fawn, rec- 
 ognizing an addition to the party in the ranchman's 
 dog, was timid and wary. She finally succeeded in 
 reassuring it somewhat, and with her pet tripping 
 daintily on before and tugging at the confining rope, 
 proceeded. Her companion quietly took his place at 
 her side. 
 
 "Something of a scramble, wasn't it?" Cynthia 
 inquired, glancing at him slyly from under her droop- 
 ing lashes, not without a feminine appreciation of his 
 splendid height.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 27 
 
 Bruce acquiesced, shifting his gun from his bur- 
 dened shoulder to a more comfortable position. She 
 regarded him a moment critically. 
 
 "You're feelin' pretty well tuckered now, ain't 
 you ? " she finally said, as the result of this inspec- 
 tion. 
 
 The young man met this direct query with the 
 customary untruth of suffering manhood under simi- 
 lar circumstances. 
 
 " Land ! " said Cynthia, waving a diminutive 
 hand in protest; "thet climb isn't a circumstance. 
 I can take you to a hundred worse places than thet, 
 right here on this river." 
 
 " Not with these turkeys on my back, if / know 
 it," he remonstrated. 
 
 The girl laughed at the suggestion. 
 
 They had passed through a thorny chaparral, and 
 were close upon the ranch. The sound of a violin, 
 playing a mournful and lugubrious air, at times burst- 
 ing into sudden erratic strains, with fitful minors 
 and jarring discords, and accompanied with violent 
 sawing and scraping of the instrument, reached them 
 audibly. The effect was weird and indescribable. 
 
 "Are you married ?" Cynthia inquired abruptly, 
 stopping short in the way and leveling her blue eyes 
 full upon him with steadfast scrutiny. 
 
 The unexpectedness of this inquiry was too much 
 for the sportsman. He threw back his head and 
 shouted his amusement. The girl appeared relieved 
 at the action. 
 
 "I reckon you ain't," she said at length. " You 
 couldn't laugh like thet, I s'pose, if you were. Father 
 says that tune he's a-playin' is 'Married Life.' 1
 
 28 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 think it's dreadful. It's one of his own, and he says 
 it's the result of experience. I thought, perhaps, I'd 
 better give you warnin'. Come in now and I'll make 
 you acquainted." 
 
 She lifted the latch of a rude gate, and together 
 they passed into the ranch inclosure.
 
 III. 
 
 AN old man, with long, gray hair and unkempt 
 beard, was seated on the door-stone of the ranch, play- 
 ing a violin. A tall, muscular young fellow lounged 
 against a neighboring live-oak, listening and placidly 
 smoking. Lost in the rendering of his dismal music, 
 the face of the performer was vacant and rapt. His 
 eyes had an uncertain wandering gleam, and he bent 
 his chin upon the instrument and hugged it close to 
 him with long sweeps of his bow, as though intent 
 upon the pursuit of some elusive melody that he 
 feared might escape him. The nimble fingers of his 
 left hand tracked the wandering strains up and down 
 the key-board, and his right seemed to smite them 
 into piteous remonstrance. His knees were pressed 
 close together, and one foot rested on the other, the 
 toes turned inward, with a humorous suggestion that 
 his musical efforts were demoralizing his lower limbs. 
 Near these erratic feet a monstrous river cat-fish, 
 recently caught and thrown carelessly down, stretched 
 its unwieldy length. 
 
 He did not cease playing as Cynthia and Bruce 
 approached, but, quite unconscious of their presence, 
 continued waking the echoes of the gathering twi- 
 light with his fiendish music. His companion greeted 
 the girl with a friendly nod, and, quickly detaching
 
 30 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 himself from the tree, stepped toward her. The 
 movement brought the fiddler to himself, who, still 
 playing, turned his body half round, and as soon as 
 his eyes rested upon the stranger, stopped abruptly, 
 the instrument giving an impatient quaver as the bow 
 fell away from, the strings. He stared blankly at 
 Cynthia, but said nothing. 
 
 " Mr. Henry Bruce, father, of the ' Mesquite 
 Valley Kanch/" said his daughter, with a sudden 
 blush. "He's lost his pony, fell in the river, and 
 wants to know if you can take care of him. over- 
 night." 
 
 The old man stared again, laid down his bow and 
 fiddle upon the door-stone, extended a heavy hand, 
 long-fingered and big-knuckled, to Bruce, and, after 
 closing upon the latter's fingers and lifting his arm 
 as if it had been a pump-handle, restored both to him 
 a trifle maimed, and without uttering a word. The 
 same formality was then gone through with the 
 younger individual, whom Cynthia addressed as Buck 
 Jerrold. This gentleman managed to ejaculate 
 "Howdy ?" in a tone as mechanical as the previous 
 gesture. 
 
 Meanwhile old Dallas had straightened out his 
 dangerously involved legs, crossed them, and, with his 
 hands clasped over his knees, was gazing up into his 
 guest's face with a puzzled gravity that began to be 
 embarrassing. 
 
 "Who be ye ?" he finally said, with a doubtful 
 look, putting his hand to his ear, as if he were 
 listening from a remote locality. " Whar did ye say 
 ye kem from ? " 
 
 Bruce was about to reply, when Cynthia inter-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 31 
 
 posed and repeated her previous remark more em- 
 phatically. " He's been playin', ye see ; he gets so 
 far over yonder thet it takes him a long time to get 
 back," she explained. 
 
 "Been in the river and lost his horse ! " 
 the elder Dallas finally ejaculated, slowly, as if a light 
 were breaking in upon him. Then he rubbed his 
 hands together and chuckled softly to himself, turn- 
 ing his head to one side, and closing his eyes, as if 
 there was something very amusing in the recollection. 
 
 " Wai, wal ! ef this yer State ain't gettin' swamped 
 with tender-foots, my name ain't Alcides ! Lost his 
 boss let it walk off and leave him ! " he repeated, 
 chuckling again. " Ye might build up a bustin' fire 
 in that thar grate, Buck, and thaw him out, I reck- 
 on," pointing to the open hearth within. "Ye kin 
 do that much." 
 
 Bruce, who had listened to the commentary of the 
 elder Dallas upon his mishap with outward impertur- 
 bability, but inward impatience, hereupon attempted 
 to say something in his own defense, when Cynthia 
 broke in : 
 
 "Pretty near as bad a case, father, as when old 
 ' Jule ' went off and left you down at the ' Live-oak 
 Water-hole,' the time you got down to doctor thet old 
 ewe that was snake-bit aren't it ?" she commented, 
 coming bravely to the rescue. 
 
 "It's gettin' dark," said the old man, rising ab- 
 ruptly, and with a sudden cracking of his rheumatic 
 joints "it's gettin' dark, and I reckon we better go 
 in." He stooped and made a feeble clutch for his re- 
 linquished fiddle, but his halting knees were unequal 
 to the effort, and Jerrold handed it to him. He
 
 32 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 turned on the door-step, and picked a note or two 
 with absent eyes and a wandering hand. 
 
 " Thar ain't but two bedrooms in the house, out- 
 side the settin'-room, and them's occupied," he said, 
 vaguely, as if to the remote landscape, punctuating 
 his discourse with nervous strumming of the instru- 
 ment. " Ye'll hev to 'make down' with Buck and 
 me on the floor, afore the fire. Ez for dry clothes, 
 the only extrys on hand at this ranch is a buffalo- 
 robe and a yaller 'slicker' ye kin take yer ch'ice. 
 P'raps, ez it is, and thar being a corner in dry-goods, 
 outside o' woman's duds and fixins, ye better let them 
 clothes o' yourn dry on ye, and het up from the in- 
 side. Ye look stout, and I'll allow ye kin stand it ! 
 Cynthy, whar's thet rye-whisky the sheriff gin me 
 over at the 'barbecue ' last week ? Ye might bring it 
 out and start your fr'end onto it. Buck, go to the 
 wood-pile and fetch an armful of wood." 
 
 So saying, and without pausing for a reply, he at 
 once led the way within, followed by Bruce and Cyn- 
 thia. A wood-fire burned upon the ample hearth, 
 the leaping flames roaring and crackling up the great 
 chimney, and lighting up the dim interior with fan- 
 tastic play of light and shadow. The room was bare 
 and scantily furnished ; the ceiling peaked, showing 
 the joinings and rafters of the roof. In the center of 
 the rough floor stood a long wooden table, already set 
 for the evening meal. A few poor prints, recklessly 
 lavish in coloring and villainously out of drawing, . 
 hung upon the walls. They emphasized the claims 
 of various events and personages upon a forgetful pos- 
 terity. Conspicuous among these artistic triumphs 
 were the " Storming of the Alamo," amid such realis-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 33 
 
 tic detail of smoke and flame as to suggest a more 
 fiery locality, and a captivating portrait of General 
 Houston, arrayed in the picturesque glories of a red 
 flannel shirt. The spreading antlers of a deer graced 
 the broad chimney-piece, from which depended a shot- 
 pouch and powder-horn, one or two rawhide hopples, 
 a pair of large spurs, and a heavy leathern quirt. 
 There was a book-rack at one end of the room, be- 
 tween two shutterless windows, roughly fashioned out 
 of Southern pine, and shining red in the fire-light. It 
 contained a few books and papers the scant library 
 of the ranch. Below it stood a little writing-stand, 
 rudely littered with paper, pens and ink, pistol-car- 
 tridges, medicine-bottles, pipes, plugs of tobacco, and 
 other incongruous articles heaped in amusing con- 
 trast. In the midst of this picturesque confusion 
 rested a little chip work-basket, from which peeped a 
 small blue stocking and two diminutive kid slippers, 
 with extravagant heels the latest Texan rendering 
 of more stylish absurdities at the East. A silver- 
 mounted "Derringer" also a tenant of the work- 
 basket rested confidingly across these triumphs of 
 the shoemaker's art, and, from the singular intimacy 
 thus permitted with the belongings of the owner, sug- 
 gested a practical turn of mind, to say the least. The 
 amused eyes of Henry Bruce had scarcely noted these 
 inconsistencies, when the work-basket was caught up 
 suddenly by the blushing Cynthia, and whisked with 
 embarrassed haste into the privacy of her adjoining 
 bedroom. 
 
 She soon appeared again, and sought a door at the 
 opposite end of the room, which gave upon the neigh- 
 boring kitchen. Thence proceeded the rattle of cook- 
 3
 
 34 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 ing-utensils, and a savory steam that appealed to the 
 fatigued and hungry sportsman. A few minutes later 
 Cynthia reappeared, accompanied by an old negro 
 woman, turbaned and of middle age, who carried a 
 large black jug and a couple of glasses. This was the 
 ebony "Amelia," the presiding genius of the myste- 
 rious and appetizing realm she had just quitted. 
 
 She handed a tumbler to Bruce, as he stood with 
 his back to the blazing hearth, exhaling a cloud of 
 steam in his efforts to act upon the old man's advice, 
 and, throwing the jug over the hollow of her elbow 
 by a dexterous movement of a black forefinger slipped 
 through the handle, stood ready to administer the 
 liquid refreshment. 
 
 " Say ' when,' sah ! " she directed, tilting the liquor 
 at a rapid rate into the proffered glass. 
 
 "When !" said Bruce, hastily, glancing at Cyn- 
 thia over his half-filled tumbler. 
 
 " Sho ! " laughed the ebony Amelia, chuckling, and 
 favoring the young man with a dazzling dental dis- 
 play in her amusement. " Dat ain't a * marker ' fo' a 
 young chap wot's jes' be'n baptized ! Heah, boss ! " 
 turning to old Dallas, who had been silently regard- 
 ing Bruce and his protestations against her generosity 
 " show this gemman wot. you 'lows to be de aberage 
 Texas 'rejubenator.' Dey am no sca'city ob de arti- 
 cle ! " 
 
 Alcides Dallas stole a quick glance at Cynthia, as 
 she sat between the two dogs dozing in a corner of 
 the hearthstone, with one arm around the prostrate 
 "Aulus," and her eyes gazing into the blazing grate. 
 Then he stumped eagerly forward. 
 
 " My shoulder bein' a Ice tie bad to-day, whar I
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 35 
 
 was throwed last spring, at the ' round-ups,' " he re- 
 marked, apologetically, his eyes still upon the silent 
 Cynthia, "and thet old centypede-bite of five year 
 ago still a-goin' fur me at times, and contributiu' to 
 make life a weariness of the flesh, I reckon a small 
 snifter taken under sich depressin' sarcumstances 
 might operate as a blessin' in disguise." 
 
 He paused after this lengthy explanation, put his 
 tongue in his cheek, and looked warily around. There 
 was a dead silence. Mr. Buck Jerrold, who had just 
 entered, stooping under a heavy load of wood, cast 
 down his burden upon the blazing hearth, amid a 
 shower of sparks, and, leaning against the chimney- 
 piece, grinned incredulously as he listened to the old 
 man's catalogue of his infirmities. Cynthia sat still, 
 between the dogs, and said nothing. 
 
 " It's powerful sing'lar, Al," remarked Mr. Jer- 
 rold, slowly, rubbing his bearded chin and pursing 
 his lips, " how long it do take, natchally, to git thet 
 thar centypede-pizen out'n a man's unfortunet system 
 when wunst he's be'n bit. You don't seem to hev no 
 kind o' success, altho' you've be'n picklin' ye'se'f off 
 an' on for it nigh onto five years. Thar's Jed Smalley, 
 who allows thet he got outside- of a clean gallon o' Jim 
 Wily's rat-pizen thet time he sot down on one durin' 
 shearin', and altho' that's ten year ago, and he's signed 
 the pledge sence then, he allows there's days now 
 when the old symptoms gets ahead o' him, and he's 
 obliged to hobble his conscience and take a drink, or 
 go clean crazy." 
 
 The old man turned, with his glass in his hand, 
 and gazed doubtfully at Buck Jerrold, as if to fathom 
 the sincerity of his remarks.
 
 36 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Tliet's so," he said, gravely. " Thar's them ez 
 believes ye never kin git over it ! Thar's them ez 
 thinks it's jest flyin' in the face of Providence to ever 
 sign the pledge arter ye've once be'n bit. The train 
 of infirmities and worryment thet an able-bodied 
 centypede kin let loose fur evermore on an uufortu- 
 net critter's distracted inside is too harrowin' fur 
 argymint." 
 
 But here the humor of his reflections infected 
 even his own sepulchral gravity, and the corners of 
 his mouth twitched ; he turned his back on Cynthia, 
 permitted Amelia to fill his glass to the brim, and 
 then, covering it with his whole hand, so that the 
 amount of his indulgence was concealed from his 
 audience, tossed the draught off with surprising facil- 
 ity. He returned to his seat apparently refreshed. 
 
 Cynthia rose at once with a sigh, and repairing 
 to the closet, returned with a large tablespoon and an 
 ominous-looking bottle. 
 
 " Now, father," she said, standing before him and 
 looking anxiously into his face, " it's time to take the 
 ' counter-irritant.' Ef your shoulder is plaguin' you 
 again, to-night, you want your dose. I s'pose it tastes 
 about as bad as it smells, but it's only a minute, you 
 know, and it's all over, and then we won't hear any 
 more about ' sufferin' humanity' the rest of the even- 
 in'." 
 
 She poured out a tablespoonful of the mixture and 
 held it toward him, coaxingly. 
 
 " Go 'long, now, Cynthy !" ejaculated the old man, 
 waving this medicinal favor aside. " Ye don't reckon 
 I wanter mix two kinds o' medicine to onct, do yer ? 
 Thar ain't no sense in sech work ez thet ! Wot I jes'
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 37 
 
 took is kalkerlated to fortify me agin the linger! n' 
 effects o' thet thar pizen critter's bite, and thet Injun 
 chollygog' hez jest the opposite effect, and would be 
 wearin' on the narves. No, Cynthy, I'm feelin' better 
 a'ready, sis, and I don't know ez I owe my inside 
 any partickler grudge to be depressin' it to thet ex- 
 tent." 
 
 He turned his back abruptly upon his daughter 
 and her solicitations, and, swinging round in the 
 wooden chair on which he sat, crossed his legs and 
 gazed fixedly into the blazing coals, with an expres- 
 sion upon his withered face from which there was no 
 appeal. 
 
 Thus repulsed in her efforts to counteract what 
 she believed to be the dangerous tendencies of liquor, 
 Cynthia made one more appeal. 
 
 " But you know, father, Dr. Stethyscope pre- 
 scribed this for you whenever you were feelin' blue 
 and out of spirits," she pleaded, a pretty trouble 
 gathering in her anxious brows. 
 
 " Dr. Stethyscope is a crank and a cussed fool !" 
 returned the elder Dallas, sharply, still with averted 
 back. " I kin run my own inside without any advice 
 from him, I reckon. "Wot's more," he added, with a 
 grin that disclosed a few lonely and discolored teeth 
 in his upper jaw, "jest at present, I'm not out of 
 sperrits." 
 
 He glanced at Mr. Buck Jerrold, leaning against 
 the chimney-piece, and winked boldly, as if to clinch 
 the suggestion. 
 
 Cynthia, heaving another little sigh, poured the 
 contents of the tablespoon back into the bottle, and 
 replaced it in the cupboard with an air of resignation.
 
 38 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 She then returned to her seat in the corner of the 
 hearth between the sleeping dogs. 
 
 Meanwhile Amelia had crossed the room to a point 
 near the lounging Mr. Jerrold, and stood listening 
 seriously to the dialogue between father and daughter 
 before proffering her services to him. She now per- 
 formed the same gymnastic feat with the jug, and 
 extended the old man's empty tumbler. 
 
 "I hai'n't no use for it," replied Mr. Jerrold, 
 listlessly, not changing his attitude, but permitting 
 his large gray eyes to wander in the direction of 
 Cynthia. " Never havin' be'n bit yet, and bein' 
 favored with a right smart appetite and good works 
 gin'rally, I kin jest natch'ally run myself satisfactory 
 without reg'larly firm' up the machinery. Now and 
 then, in a matter of bizness ef a man don't come to 
 time over a hoss-trade or swappin' cattle when the 
 facts don't, so to speak, keep tally with the argyments 
 , liquor is well enough to bring conviction. It's a 
 powerful exhorter and convincer of the jedgment. 
 Thar's nothin' ekel to it, after you've hed a row with 
 a feller, and altho' you've settled it, ye don't quite 
 get back somehow inter the old groove nothin' that 
 goes quite so far towards puttin' things on the old 
 familiar basis. And they tell me thet when a man's 
 girl hez gone back on him," he added vaguely, gazing 
 abstractedly at a point in the wall directly over Cyn- 
 thia's downcast head " when he's feelin' lost and 
 strange like, an' the color hez jes' dropped out o' 
 things natch'ally they tell me thet then it's down- 
 right necessary, and the only friend you've got left. 
 Thet's wot I hear, anyway, comin' from older men 
 than me, and them as oughter know. One day p'raps
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 39 
 
 I may know more about it. But for ordinary daily 
 livin' and dyin' I don't need any in mine, and I 
 reckon I oughter be glad on't." 
 
 Having delivered himself to this effect, he glanced 
 quickly at Cynthia again, and relapsed into silence. 
 Amelia helped herself gravely to the contents of the 
 tumbler, with the remark that she hated to see " sech 
 good whisky lef like dat clean out 'n de cold," and 
 then departed abruptly for the kitchen. Cynthia 
 raised her beautiful eyes to Jerrold and thanked him 
 for his reflections with a smile so sweet and engaging, 
 that Bruce, wet as he was, set down his half-filled 
 glass upon the mantel-shelf as quietly as possible. 
 Then a silence fell upon the little group perhaps 
 induced by the drowsy warmth and that tendency to 
 reverie promoted by a blazing fire. The snoring of 
 the dogs, fast asleep upon the hearth-stone, was heard 
 distinctly in the stillness. 
 
 These reflections were broken in upon a few min- 
 utes later by Amelia, who emerged from the kitchen, 
 carrying a big dish of fried cat-fish and a steaming 
 coffee-pot which she placed at the head of the table. 
 Cynthia sprang up at once, and taking from the 
 mantel-shelf a large metal lamp, began to wind it up 
 with a key like a clock. She struck a match and 
 ignited the wick, placing the lamp in turn upon the 
 table. The broad, steadfast flame illuminated the 
 farthest corners of the bare room. The machinery 
 within made a loud whirring sound. 
 
 " The ole lamp makes consider'ble fuss, but she 
 burns ez well ez ever," said the old man, taking his 
 seat at the festive board without further ceremony. 
 " I've hed thet yer nigh onto twenty year brought it
 
 40 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 with me from Caroliny to the Lone Star it was one 
 of my weddin' presents. Cynthy tell Ameelyer to 
 hurry up with them flapjacks and potatoes. I'm nigh 
 starved ! Set down, boys, and don't be hankerin' 
 after victuals thet's jes' gittin' cold afore yer eyes. 
 Cynthy, you pour the coffee, and I'll rastle with 
 the fish." 
 
 With this homely introduction, he at once at- 
 tacked the viands. The rest of the company cheer- 
 fully followed suit. Throughout the informal meal 
 Miss Cynthia Dallas presided with her usual grace, 
 pouring the coffee with frontier generosity and reck- 
 lessness, and serenely unconscious of the fact that 
 sugar and milk are indispensable to that luxury in 
 more civilized localities. 
 
 Later, when the appetite of the voracious Alcides 
 Dallas had succumbed to the abundant supply of cat- 
 fish and flapjacks, they all returned to the fire and 
 seated themeslves variously about the blazing hearth. 
 After a long interval of gazing at the pulsating coals, 
 the old man delivered himself seutentiously to this 
 effect : 
 
 "It bein' a leetle chilly here, this evenin'" in a 
 low, confidential tone, as if in confidence to the glow- 
 ing embers "it bein' a leetle chilly to-night, I allow 
 thet ef I axed Ameelyer to make a good pitcher o' 
 egg-nog, it might help matters, and obligate the mists 
 of adversity and depression to not so monotonously 
 prevail that is, if them durned hens hev concluded 
 to lay at all lately. Ye see we've made a beginnin' 
 on thet rye whisky," he added, by way of apology. 
 "Ameelyer, wot account hev ye got to give of them 
 pertickler hens ? "
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 41 
 
 Amelia, who was busily engaged clearing away the 
 remnants of the recent supper, paused at the table in 
 the act of scraping a dish. 
 
 " Bless yo' soul, boss, de hens am all reg'lar ! I've 
 done got five eggs a day ever sence I fed 'em thet raw 
 meat." 
 
 "I wanter know !" said the old man, in gratified 
 surprise, without removing his eyes from the hearth, 
 "Wai, then, you might beat up about a dozen o' 
 them eggs in a pitcher, and empty the rest o' thet 
 bottle on 'em to keep em from spilin'. I'm anxious 
 not to get them pains ag'in. P'raps it won't do to 
 keep my supper waitin' too long for it." 
 
 " De Lor' ! " exclaimed Amelia, rolling her eyes 
 in amazement; "yo' doan' wan' de hole bottle o' 
 whisky in dem eggs, boss ! Do yo' wan' cook em 
 into one paste same as an om'lette ? One teaspoonful 
 to ebery egg, sah dat am de correc' proportion." 
 
 " Wai, let her go at thet, then ! " sighed the old 
 man, querulously; "so long ez you don't give thet 
 centypede time to get to work on my inside afore yer 
 on hand with it." 
 
 Amelia disappeared in the kitchen forthwith, and 
 soon returned with the coveted beverage in an earthen 
 pitcher. The glasses were filled and set round. 
 
 " Thet's a right peart shootin'-iron o' your'n, Mr. 
 Bruce!" said the old man, picking up the latter's 
 gun as it stood in a corner of the hearth-stone, and 
 curiously examining it. "How do you load her 
 though, without any ramrod ?" 
 
 "In this way," Bruce explained, taking it from 
 him and touching the lever, as he rested the butt 
 against his hip. "It's a Colt gun, top-action." As
 
 42 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 he spoke, the barrel fell by its own weight, disclosing 
 the yawning breech." 
 
 " Jeewhittaker !" exclaimed Alcides, opening his 
 eyes. "It works like a rifle, don't it? Wai, now, 
 that lays way over the ' Silent Mary,' Buck, you bet. 
 Cynthy, bring * Mary ' out ! She's standin' in the 
 corner. I loaded her to-day, darter," he added, in a 
 low tone of voice, as if thinking aloud, "with a hand- 
 ful o' salt, in case that blasted Capting Foraker comes 
 callin' on ye ag'in durin' the next fortnight. I hain't 
 no other use for him, and I reckon he knows it ! " 
 
 Cynthia made no reply to this remark of Alcides, 
 but soon returned to the hearth, carrying with diffi- 
 culty an enormous muzzle-loading shot-gun. It was 
 double barrelled, and evidently designed for killing 
 geese at long range. 
 
 " I call her the * Silent Mary,' " said the old man, 
 setting the unwieldy weapon between his knees, and 
 regarding it admiringly, "out of a feeliu' of gentle 
 sarcasm. She's about the loudest in argyment of any 
 shootin'-iron I ever see. And what she hez to say, 
 gen'rally strikes home sometimes both ways. I 
 reckoned the drum of my ear, one time, was plumb 
 busted ! But lookin' at her by and large," he added, 
 tapping the barrel, and surveying the great gun, 
 "'Mary 'hez more p'ints and more 'gitthar' than 
 anythin' I ever yet p'inted into a flock o' geese or 
 wild-duck." 
 
 He turned his head slowly and regarded Bruce. 
 
 "I dare say," the latter replied, considerately, 
 "you can count on that gun for very long range, but 
 I find mine very convenient for ordinary shooting. 
 Won't you try a cigar ? "
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 43 
 
 He opened a leather cigar-case and held it toward 
 him. The old man took one as a matter of course, 
 but pursued his reflections. Bruce extended the case 
 to Jerrold, and then, lighting one himself, blew a 
 cloud into the open fire-place. 
 
 "I don't allow thet you'll believe me," said old 
 Dallas, biting off the whole lower end of the weed be- 
 fore fitting it carefully between his scant teeth, ''but 
 I hev killed geese with ' Mary ' ez far as a hundred and 
 fifty yards. I'd like to git a ' bead ' with her on them 
 fellers ez stole ' Old Spike' and them running hogs o' 
 our'n, Buck," he broke out suddenly. 
 
 Mr. Buck Jerrold assented grimly, laying a sig- 
 nificant hand on a revolver he wore in his belt, and 
 tilting his cigar in his mouth reflectively. 
 
 "Are you meeting with any loss in that way?" 
 inquired Bruce, quietly glancing at both. " I've had 
 a little trouble of that kind myself lately." 
 
 "Ya-as," drawled the old man, "there's allus 
 suthin' goin' wrong with yer live-stock. Ef it ain't 
 cows, it's hosses, and ef it ain't hosses, it's hogs. Them 
 black-and-white hogs o' mine are runnin' free, to be 
 sure, but they've got a good road-brand, and there 
 ain't no excuse fur huntin' 'em. But they's pork 
 with my brand, fur sale down at San Marcus, all the 
 same. I reckon it's Lem Wickson and his gang. I've 
 sent word to the sheriff, and he'll be over here some 
 day to talk it over. I perpose to hev the law on 'em. 
 
 " Dad-burn the luck ! " he broke out suddenly, as 
 recent disasters increased his impatience. "There's 
 them fine-wooled Vermont bucks out in the pen. 
 One on 'em didn't come to time yesterday at sun- 
 down. Found him lyin' stiff and cold in the mornin'
 
 44: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 pizenerl on laurel, I reckon ! It's enough to gravel 
 the patience of Job, durned ef it ain't !" 
 
 " I suppose wolves, coyotes, never attack a buck ?" 
 hazarded Bruce. 
 
 "Not much!" returned Alcides ; "that is, not 
 when they're together. A coyote's knowin'. Them 
 bucks stand by one another, and a coyote wolf isn't 
 goin' to risk gettin' knocked into the middle of next 
 week fur a mouthful of tough mutton. A starvin' 
 coyote might pull one down, ef he caught him alone, 
 but they ain't no idea of bein' busted when their at- 
 tention is otherwise engaged." 
 
 He leaned back in his chair, chuckling to himself, 
 and took a long sip of the egg-nog in his tumbler 
 with evident zest. All at once the air without was 
 filled with cries, as if all Bedlam were let loose 
 shrieks, barks, and yells that, from -their number and 
 frequency, might have proceeded from fifty throats. 
 
 "Speak of the devil there they go ag'in, them 
 durned coyotes ! " ejaculated the old man, turning 
 his ear to listen. "I reckon they're wranglin' over 
 the carcass o' thet poor old buck. I've a notion to 
 hump myself and let ' Mary ' off into 'em, jes' to make 
 'em scatter." 
 
 "Don't waste yer powder, Al what's the use ?" 
 remonstrated Mr. Buck Jerrold, lazily stretching his 
 sturdy limbs before the fire. "It must be gittin' 
 along toward nine o'clock ; them coyotes is good as a 
 watch every three hours. Ye kin count on 'em jes' 
 so often at sundown, nine o'clock, midnight, three 
 in the morning, and about sun-up. I wonder, now, 
 why thet is ? " 
 
 " Give it up ! " said the old man, shortly. " Prob'ly
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 4.5 
 
 because the dura critters hev got jes' so much cussed- 
 ness bottled up inter 'em, and they must let her off 
 jes' so often, or bust the safety-valve. And one on 
 'em makes ez much noise ez twenty. I never hear 
 one o' them devils tune up," he continued, slowly, 
 " but wot I think o' my wife, ez was onct, an' how 
 she could ' hold the fort ' ef any one give her a rea- 
 sonable opportunity. I'd back her ag'in anythin' I 
 ever seen yet. Thar was times in my fam'ly," he 
 added, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, "when 
 I fust come to Texas, and started in the hotel busi- 
 ness, and the frontier not, so to speak, exactly jibein' 
 with Marier's eccentricities thar was times in my 
 fam'ly when nothin' short of a menagerie at feedin'- 
 time could ekel it. I useter sit by, them times, try- 
 in' to console myself with the idea thet I bed the big- 
 gest domestic circus in the Lone Star country. Thar 
 wan't much comfort in thet, somehow. But I'm 
 here yet," he concluded, triumphantly. " Marier 
 ain't, though ! " he added, after a pause. 
 
 "Is your wife dead, sir?" inquired Bruce, with 
 all the gravity he could assume. Cynthia glanced up 
 at him with a pained look. 
 
 "Don't git Al started on married life don't, 
 natchally ! " interposed Jerrold, hastily, with a warn- 
 ing gesture. 
 
 But the train was already fired. 
 
 "Dead!" exclaimed Alcides Dallas, "thet's wot 
 I'd like to know. Mattermony," he further remarked, 
 deliberately stretching out his cramped legs, burying 
 his hands deep in the pockets of his ducking-trousers 
 and gazing dejectedly before him with bent head, as 
 if consulting an unhallowed past " mattermony is a
 
 40 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 lottery, my friend, whar there's more blanks than 
 prizes, and, understand me, I'm capable o' jedgin', 
 fur I lived with Marier nigh onto ten years, and 
 hevin' graduated not with high honors but all the 
 same, hevin' graduated, I'm tol'ble well up on the 
 subjec'. It's jes' ez I say to Cynthy here ; she's a 
 good little girl, though, and don't gin'rally give me 
 any trouble on thet score not to say thet I wouldn't 
 be glad to see Cynthy hitched in double harness, pur- 
 yided her pardner was an honest sort o' hoss, war- 
 ranted sound and kind, and not likely to kick in the 
 traces ; but thar's allus thet risk, and nothin's more 
 uncertain than marry in', I allow, unless it be swap- 
 pin' hosses. My old granny useter say to my sisters 
 and God knows why I didn't profit by it I heard it 
 all my life : ' Gals, don't be in a hurry ; fur, ef you 
 git a good husband, you'll be well paid fur waitin', 
 and, ef you make a mistake, you'll hev plenty long 
 enough to live with him.' I kin only repeat the 
 same thing to Cynthy, and hope she'll hev more sense 
 than I bed on the subjec'. Still, Cynthy knows wot 
 I think a'ready." 
 
 He paused, and glanced significantly at Mr. Buck 
 Jerrold, wh6 pulled his hat-brim over his eyes, as if 
 to shade them from the glare of the fire. Cynthia 
 moved uneasily in her corner, blushed crimson, and 
 stole a glance at Bruce from under her drooping 
 lashes. 
 
 The old man drained his tumbler to the dregs, set 
 it down on the table with emphasis, and proceeded : 
 
 " Still, all this ain't nuther here nor there. I 
 kem to Texas, arter the war, from Caroliny. Marier 
 and I hed got along pretty well back in the States ;
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 47 
 
 fit occasionally, ye know, but thet's expected arter 
 the fust two years. Things was flat in Caroliny. I 
 'lowed to git out whar the kentry was new ; sold out, 
 tuck Cynthy she was only a baby then and Maricr 
 I might better hev left her, but I didn't know enough 
 and kem to Texas and started into the hotel biz- 
 ness. I done well 'nuff at fust, and made money. 
 My house was full all the while of sheep- and cattle- 
 men good pay and plenty of it. But, bimeby, arter 
 the novelty wore off, Marier allowed thet the kentry 
 didn't quite kem up to her expectations, and begun 
 takin' an inventory of the guests stoppin' at the house 
 ter alleviate her grief at the fact. The fust feller 
 thet she seemed to find kalkerlated to overcome the 
 monotony of the frontier was this here Capting Fora- 
 ker I loaded ' Mary ' fur this arternoon. She met 
 him at a * barbecue,' and run with him consid'rable 
 fur a spell. Of course, I had suthin' to say on that 
 subjec', and arter a while this Foraker he quit callin' ! 
 It might hev bin bekase I was right smart at makin' 
 warts on silver dollars thro wed up in the air, them 
 days, but I don't discuss that subjec'. Then thar 
 was a sewin'-masheen agent who presented Marier 
 with a masheen, and thereby, savin' Marier consider- 
 'ble sewin' at nights, give her an opportunity of show- 
 in' her gratitude by playin' the piany fur him onneces- 
 sarily in the parlor. About the same time my mend- 
 in' began to be uncertain and permiskiss, and the 
 fam'ly menagerie was on daily exhibition. The agent 
 fin'ly went East, and Marier languished for a while, 
 but one day a julery-drummer kem through a slick 
 chap, with plenty o' samples o' pinchbeck and gew- 
 gaws. Her spirits rose ag'in, and never faltered from
 
 48 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 thet time forward. They rose so high this time thet 
 she left town with that feller, one night, and I ain't 
 laid eyes on her sence. Marier never done things by 
 halves, and I never could quite onderstand why it was 
 she left Cynthy here behind, but it was a fortunate 
 thing for me she did, or I reckon I'd settled my ac- 
 count with a six-shooter during the next fortnight. 
 Not but wot I'd been willin' to settle hers fust tho'," 
 he added, significantly. "I'd preferred to have left 
 this world with suthin' to my credit. Arter that I 
 quit the hotel bizness and kern here ; I lent money on 
 live-stock, and did pretty well. Buck, here, and me 
 own right smart o' cattle together, and he looks arter 
 'em, bein' foreman o' Judge Keynolds's ranch, and 
 spryer and younger. I ain't heard of Mrs. Dallas 
 sence, and now I don't wanter. 
 
 " It's gettin' late," he said, abruptly, " and I 
 reckon we better make down." 
 
 He rose with a yawn and an impatient kick at the 
 dying embers. Cynthia rose, too, and, calling the 
 dogs, put them out of doors for the night ; after 
 which she dropped the gentlemen a quaint courtesy, 
 and retired to her bedroom. 
 
 The old man went to a closet, from which he took 
 three gray blankets and threw them down on the floor. 
 "One apiece," he said, with primitive hospitality, 
 drawing off his boots, and wrapping his ducking-coat 
 around them to serve for a pillow. He rolled himself 
 in his blanket, his feet toward the fire, and was soon 
 asleep and snoring audibly. Nothing was left but for 
 Bruce and Jerrold to follow suit. This they accord- 
 ingly did. 
 
 But toward morning they were aroused by Alcides's
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 49 
 
 rising impatiently and stumping noisily to the door. 
 A few minutes elapsed and there was a fearful explo- 
 sion, the bare room lighting up with the red flash. 
 Bruce sat up at once, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and 
 inquiring the cause of the disturbance. Even in his 
 confused alarm he heard Cynthia laughing to herself 
 in her little bedroom. 
 
 "It's nothin' but cows," said Mr. Buck Jerrold, 
 turning over with a yawn in his blanket. " The 
 old man left a pair of good breeches out on the fence 
 to dry this evenin', and I reckon them salt-starved 
 cattle hev been chawin' onto 'em in the course o' their 
 pryin' 'round. He's seen fit to turn loose onto them 
 the load which he said he give ' Mary ' this arternoon, 
 on account o' Foraker. It's a way of saltin' 'em that's 
 quite pop'lar here at the ranch."
 
 IV. 
 
 DAW:N" came, lacing with rose and amber the 
 severing east, with purple billows breaking upon the 
 horizon's bar, and flecking the orient with crimson and 
 opal dyes. With the first rays of light, the cries of 
 wild-geese were heard flying in long harrow toward 
 the river, and the faint clang of mallard and shell- 
 drake passing overhead. The sounds awoke Bruce, 
 who rose cramped and stiff, and, rubbing his sleepy 
 eyes, leaned against the chimney-piece in lazy admi- 
 ration of the pageantry of early morning, seen through 
 ;the shutterless windows of the ranch. 
 
 He glanced down at the tumbled heap of blankets 
 at his feet. Only one of his companion bedfellows 
 met his eye. Mr. Buck Jerrold had already arisen, 
 leaving his disordered inwrappings in a tangled coil, 
 very much as a snake casts its skin. The old man, 
 his hands folded upon his breast, lay flat upon his 
 back, snoring dismally in nasal derision of early 
 rising. 
 
 Bruce regarded him a moment with an amused 
 smile, and then, true to the sportsman's instinct, 
 drew on his shooting-jacket, caught up his gun from 
 the corner of the hearth, and stepped out into the 
 cool, clear air. 
 
 He was immediately overwhelmed by the fawning
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 51 
 
 dogs. Having been making a night of it, they were 
 seemingly desirous of testifying by their joyous wel- 
 come the general unprofitableness of nocturnal dissi- 
 pation. He stooped to caress them. 
 
 As he did so, he beheld Mr. Buck Jerrold saddling 
 his roan cow-pony, and evidently making prepara- 
 tions for an early departure. 
 
 "Where away at this hour of the morning ?" he 
 inquired, sauntering up. 
 
 " Back to the ranch. I've got more'n fifty young 
 lambs to look after, I reckon." 
 
 " You're not going off before breakfast ?" Bruce 
 inquired, leaning on the gate. 
 
 " I reckon so j I don't call ten miles afore break- 
 fast any great shakes." 
 
 " That depends on the rider," Bruce replied, pleas- 
 antly. " I don't think any one could hire me to ride 
 ten miles this morning without a cup of coffee, at 
 least. I feel as lame and stiff as if I'd been dragged 
 at the end of a lariat through a thick chaparral." 
 
 " Oh, I've hed my coffee, you can bet yer life ! " 
 Jerrold replied. " Amelia's up already ; she ain't the 
 woman to let a man start out without suthin' under 
 his jacket. I say, pardner, ef you're in any great 
 hurry to get back to the ' Mesquite Valley,' bein' ez 
 you're turned foot-loose and without a nag to ride on, 
 ye can hev 'Buckshot' here fer twenty-five dollars," 
 indicating his roan. "He ain't handsome, but he's 
 good for twice thet distance, ez smart ez ye want to 
 June him ; he's fast and sure-footed both, and don't 
 ' buck ' nuther. Ye needn't keep yer friends waitin' 
 and anxious. I kin rope one o' the old man's ' kave- 
 yard' and get off easy with half an hour's delay."
 
 52 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 He paused, bringing the much-lauded " Buck- 
 shot" smartly around by a blow of his quirt as he did 
 so, at the same time stooping and tightening the 
 flank-girth. 
 
 "Buckshot," a large, raw-boned, spotted horse, 
 with vicious eyes and Eoman nose, laid his ears back 
 in protest ; then he sprang clear of the ground, with 
 back arched like a cat, and rigid legs, striking the 
 earth at every bound as if there were no such property 
 known to matter as elasticity. He varied this unique 
 performance at intervals by a plunging movement 
 fore and aft, like a stout ship in a heavy sea. The 
 result was soon obvious. Amid a whirling vortex of 
 blinding dust and flying hoofs, the saddle began to 
 turn. When "Buckshot" suspended his exertions a 
 few minutes later, and struck a snorting and indig- 
 nant tableau, with tiery eyes and flaring nostrils, the 
 saddle was upside down, and hanging loosely between 
 his four feet. 
 
 " No ! " said Bruce, quietly, vaulting lightly over 
 the fence, after witnessing this interesting perform- 
 ance ; "I see now plainly that 'Buckshot' does not 
 * buck.' He is only a little opposed to your 'cinch- 
 ing ' the flank-girth. But I think I shall get along 
 here very well, Mr. Jerrold, until my partner, Phil 
 Kernochan, looks me up or something favorable hap- 
 pens. He knew that my general direction was the 
 Colorado River, and that I was out after turkeys. 
 Meanwhile the hunting is good, and I think I'll shoot 
 a brace of mallards before the family are stirring. 
 Adios! Drop in and see us the next time you're 
 over our way. There they come now ! " he exclaimed, 
 shoving a couple of shells into his gun as he marked
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 53 
 
 a small flock of duck coming down the wind. 
 "Adios!" 
 
 So saying, he turned his back upon the discom- 
 fited horse-trader, and Mr. Buck Jerrold sprang at 
 once into the saddle. Before he was fairly seated, 
 the vicious " Buckshot " essayed to repeat his previ- 
 ous exploit, but he reckoned without his host. 
 
 Mr. Jerrold had improved the interval to lash a 
 small stick back of the pommel, and now, supported 
 on either thigh as in a vise, drove his cruel spurs into 
 the flanks of the horse at every bound, and ruthlessly 
 applied the heavy quirt. 
 
 " Everything fair in a hoss-trade," he shouted, 
 apparently enjoying the animal's gymnastics. "I 
 swapped this critter yestiddy for a pair of leather 
 leggin's and a hoss-hair lariat to boot. The boss I 
 got rid of, tho', hed the Clampers,' an' was dog poor 
 at thet. The fust time the other feller attempts to 
 put him on grain, he'll find he's got a losin' con- 
 tract." 
 
 He clapped his spurs again into the discomfited 
 "Buckshot," and, wheeling him sharply around by 
 a jerk on the bridle, was off like a thunder-bolt. 
 
 Bruce was already far away in pursuit of the fly- 
 ing mallard. He had marked them down in a long 
 water-hole, bordered by low bushes. As he crept up 
 to the edge of the pool he caught a glimpse of the 
 old "green-head" drake, a startled silhouette against 
 the misty bank, with neck outstretched and eye alert. 
 His glossy mates swung silently upon the silver mir- 
 ror of the pool in the morning's gray. In an instant 
 the wary bird was up and away, but Bruce stopped 
 him with his right barrel, and he fell with a heavy
 
 54 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 plump upon the farther bank, his red legs straddling 
 awkwardly as he came down. The next moment the 
 air was full of flying teal, rising with frightened 
 clamor and whirring away to the left. Bruce let the 
 other mallard go, and gave the teal his left barrel, 
 thinking of Cynthia and her damaged bonnet. Three 
 dropped to his shot. He picked up his game hur- 
 riedly, not without a little inward exultation. There 
 was one drake among the teal. The bright little fel- 
 low fairly gleamed in brown and emerald his head 
 a banded flash of color, his wings a fluttering revela- 
 tion. 
 
 Bruce stood still a moment, regarding admiringly 
 the beauties of the dying bird. A light film was set- 
 tling on the flashing eye. He could not help think- 
 ing what an improvement he might make in Cynthia's 
 appearance, were he possessed of the taxidermist's 
 skill. With masculine self-confidence, he aspired for 
 the moment to become her milliner. 
 
 "Ain't he a daisy ?" said a musical voice. 
 
 He turned in surprise. Cynthia stood before him 
 a blushing Aurora, the roses of the dawn in her 
 dimpled cheeks, the amber of the sunrise in her gold- 
 en hair. With the occasional recklessness of her sex, 
 she had arrayed herself more with an eye to pictur- 
 esque effect than common prudence. She recognized 
 the fact that there was an observer upon the scene of 
 action more appreciative than usual. Under the cir- 
 cumstances, her defiance of season and climate had a 
 touch of sublimity. She had donned a pale-blue 
 muslin dress, exquisitely becoming, I grant, but a 
 relic of the previous summer and a much higher 
 thermometer. The hat on her head was of straw,
 
 A NYMPH OF TIIE WEST. 55 
 
 and supported a whole parterre of roses and a long, 
 curling feather ; and she had on the high-heeled 
 French slippers. They were quite wet through, and 
 the embroidered stockings, which a charming sense 
 of consistency in dress had impelled her to wear, were 
 beaded and flashing with dew. 
 
 Immediately after addressing Bruce, she glanced 
 down at her feet with some solicitude, her light 
 skirts gathered daintily in her left hand. She frowned 
 at the slippers, already turning purple at the 
 toes. 
 
 "I reckon I've spoiled 'em. the first time I put 
 'em on," she said. "However, there's lots more 
 where they came from ! " tossing her head with the 
 general suggestion that French slippers are a gratui- 
 tous donation from obliging shoemakers to the fair 
 sex an attitude quite carefully preserved by woman- 
 kind toward eligible bachelors, along with a becoming 
 disregard of the necessity of capital. " Is thet green 
 wing for me, Mr. Bruce?" she inquired, with a 
 politeness of manner which seemed quite as unsea- 
 sonable, in her own case, as her faultless attire, and 
 in a sense to have been assumed with the gorgeous 
 hat. She glanced eagerly at Bruce, as he stood sepa- 
 rating the bright pinion from the duck's body, and 
 flashing the gleaming plumes in the sunlight. " Oh ! 
 what a lovely little duck a bantam ! " she exclaimed, 
 with a sudden feminine intuition of ornithology. 
 "Isn't he cute ?" Then her eye fell upon a hlood- 
 spot on the breast, and she looked suddenly grave. 
 "Do you reckon it hurt him much to kill him?" 
 she pleaded. 
 
 "Not any more than was strictly necessary under
 
 56 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 the circumstances," Bruce replied, with the sports- 
 man's indifference. " Good-morning, Miss Cynthia. 
 Yes, the green wing is intended for you, but I hardly 
 expected to see you at so early an hour. You look 
 like Aurora, I assure you." 
 
 "Like a roarer!" queried Cynthia, knitting her 
 brows in puzzled surprise. " Well, now, thet is a 
 compliment before breakfast, too ! And I haven't 
 said hardly a word yet. I should think I was 'Aulus.' 
 Did ye hear him bay when I first came out this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 " No," replied Bruce, " I must have been intent 
 on the mallard." He held up the bright-plumaged 
 bird by one leg as he spoke. "But I understand how 
 ' Aulus' felt, I think. He's not in the habit of meet- 
 ing a goddess before breakfast. It disturbs the calm 
 equipoise of his mind." 
 
 Cynthia glanced at him in embarrassment, yet not 
 without a certain admiration. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she sighed, "you're so dre'dful high- 
 toned, it most makes my head ache to see what you're 
 drivin' at. If you're goin' to talk to me, Mr. Bruce, 
 you must cut some of those words, or it'll interfere 
 with our gettin' acquainted." 
 
 She looked up at him in bewitching perplexity. 
 The level rays of the rising sun shone full in her eyes, 
 and she drew down her hat-brim with an impatient, 
 dimpled hand as she did so. 
 
 Thus besought in reference to his mythological 
 quotations, Bruce made haste to explain briefly to 
 Cynthia the fable of Aurora and Tithonus. She list- 
 ened with amused surprise. When he had finished, 
 with the lamentable old age that overtook that unfor-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 57 
 
 tunate lady's husband, she sighed, and expressed her- 
 self : 
 
 "So he turned out to be a grasshopper in the end 
 eh ? Thet was pleasant ! Served her right, though, 
 for wantin' him to live forever. A girl oughtn't to 
 get gone on any man to thet extent forever is an 
 awful long trip ! A grasshopper ! Mebbe thet's what 
 father means when he says matter'mony has so much 
 to do with ' kickin' ? ' ' She glanced inquiringly up 
 at Bruce. The latter laughed outright at this com- 
 mentary. At once she turned her back on him and 
 regarded the sunrise. 
 
 "So you think I look like thet, do you?" she 
 said, after a pause, turning to him with a sudden 
 gratification of manner, and pointing with a rosy 
 forefinger to where the tints of dawn were being rap- 
 idly lost in the splendor of the coming day. 
 
 Bruce nodded. 
 
 She walked on a few minutes in silence, with gath- 
 ered skirts and a coy scrutiny of his face from under 
 her drooping lashes. A pleased smile lingered on her 
 face. 
 
 " How is it that you happen to be out to see the 
 truth of the comparison ?" the young man inquired. 
 
 " Oh, I had to turn the bucks out !" she replied. 
 " I usually do. I started 'em up the valley, and then 
 I heard you shoot, and thought I'd come out and see 
 what you'd got." 
 
 No one would have dreamed from her manner that 
 her motive was aught but curiosity. But there was 
 the testimony of the elaborate toilet, and young men 
 are, perhaps, more discerning than the enemy imagine. 
 The homage of beauty is always flattering. Bruce
 
 58 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 was conscious of rising a trifle in his own estimation 
 as they fared on together. 
 
 "Dear me !" said Cynthia, sweeping the horizon 
 with eyes dazzled by the sun. " Where can those old 
 bucks have gone to ? Could anything have stampeded 
 'em?" 
 
 A sudden succession of dull crashes, as of heavy 
 bodies in rapid collision, caught her ear. She turned 
 quickly and looked back. They had passed the ven- 
 erable patriarchs of the flock their grayish-black 
 bodies scarcely discernible against the withered prairie- 
 grass. A difference of opinion had evidently arisen 
 as to whether the best opportunities for pasturage lay 
 up or down the river. With the predilections of their 
 kind for forcible logic, they proposed to settle this 
 question by a reverberating cannonade against one 
 another's skulls. When Cynthia first espied them, 
 hostilities were in full progress, the horned combat- 
 ants backing off a few paces and coming together with 
 the shock of a tourney. Their impetuous recoils at 
 times threw the bewildered animals back upon their 
 haunches, but they staggered to their feet with a 
 courage worthy of a better cause, and returned in- 
 domitably to the charge. "Aulus," seated gravely 
 upon his haunches, overlooked this revival of ancient 
 chivalry with the gravity of a referee. 
 
 "Goodness gracious ! " exclaimed Cynthia, wring- 
 ing her little hands in agitation; "they'll be more 
 funerals among the bucks if thet keeps up ! " 
 
 She caught up a dry branch of mesquite at her 
 feet and ran fearlessly in among them. A few blows 
 of the thorny stick full in the faces of the charging 
 sheep dispelled their preoccupation. They reeled
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 59 
 
 backward, and regarded her with lifted heads and 
 panting nostrils. Then, with the sudden decision of 
 their species, they turned sharply about and moved 
 stolidly off in a dusky herd, as if nothing had ever 
 occurred to disturb their fleecy serenity. 
 
 Only one venerable pugilist remained to contest 
 the field with Cynthia. He had been arrested in the 
 fury of his onset by the discovery that his adversary 
 had turned tail and beaten a hasty retreat before the 
 blows of the demoralizing mesquite. He now stood 
 stamping his feet violently, and debating whether it 
 would not be as well to do battle with the indignant 
 girl. The rapid evolutions of the brandished limb at 
 last decided him, and he wheeled about as if to join 
 his comrades. At this moment he caught sight of 
 "Aulus," serene, unconscious, and contemplative. 
 Quick as a flash he lowered his head, and plunged blind- 
 ly forward. In vain Cynthia shouted and struck im- 
 patiently at him as he charged past her. In vain 
 "Aulus," catching a startled glimpse of him, strove to 
 swerve his unwieldy body out of the line of assault. 
 The leveled front of his adversary struck him full 
 upon his ponderous shoulder with the force of a 
 catapult, and, with a pitiful yelp and loss of dignity, 
 the sedate hound described a bewildered parabola, 
 ending in a succession of somersaults, chiefly remark- 
 able for flapping ears. The ram, stopping in full 
 career, did not pause to survey the consequences of his 
 artillery, but ignominiously fled as if in dread of the 
 wrath to come. 
 
 Words can not describe the indignation of Cyn- 
 thia. She ran after the fleeing buck until she lost 
 a slipper, when she was perforce obliged to abandon
 
 60 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 the chase, and hop slowly back in search of the 
 missing buskin. She was met by Bruce, who had al- 
 ready recovered it. She put one hand upon his arm 
 while she readjusted the high-heeled absurdity. Then 
 she sought the unfortunate hound. He, too, came 
 forward to meet her, but with a disorganized gait and 
 with his right foot raised appealingly. She knelt 
 down and examined the damaged shoulder anxiously 
 with pitying murmurs of distress. 
 
 " Three days, shut up in the house on a light diet, 
 and Dr. Tobias's liniment," she finally said, with the 
 air of a veterinary surgeon. " Aulus " gave a yelp of 
 despair as if he understood the gravity of his affliction. 
 "Between badgers and old 'Fagin,' my friend, I 
 reckon there won't be much left of you naturally, if 
 this carelessness of yours continues ! Do you know, I 
 think 'Aulus' is in love ?" she said, suddenly, look- 
 ing up into the face of Bruce. " It's either love or old 
 age, I'm blessed if I know which ! He's allers sittin' 
 round lately, sorter dreamin', and the last week he 
 hasn't eaten anythin' to speak of. Father says thet's 
 the way it begins, and I'm not certain but thet's 
 what's the matter. But mebbe he's only keepin' 
 Lent," she added, with a mischievous glance, as she 
 saw Bruce laughing. " I see by the weekly paper it's 
 early this year, and p'raps, after all, he's an Episco- 
 palian though I'd set him down along back, on 
 account of his bathin' so much, for an out-and-out 
 Baptist." 
 
 She sprang lightly to her feet, and, with cries of 
 encouragament to the crippled hound, accompanied 
 Bruce back to the ranch. 
 
 Alcides Dallas had arisen in their absence, and sat
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. Gl 
 
 upon the door-stone awaiting them, in a neglige so 
 startling and characteristic, as to impress the young 
 ranchman that attention to details in matters of the 
 toilet was certainly not a family trait. He was with- 
 out coat and hat, and his stockinged feet showed that 
 his rawhide boots were probably still performing the 
 office of his pillow. His long, gray locks straggled 
 over his face, and he was fiendishly occupied with his 
 violin. His performance was of the usual dolorous 
 character. 
 
 " Is there any particular name for that tune ? " 
 inquired Bruce of Cynthia, as the jarring discords 
 seemed to insult the tranquil serenity of the early 
 morning. 
 
 Cynthia turned her head a moment and listened 
 attentively. She might have been a mocking-bird, so 
 characteristic was the action. 
 
 "I clean forget," she said, finally, 'whether 
 father calls thet the 'Husband's Lament' or the 
 'Texan Honeymoon,' but it don't make much differ- 
 ence which. Father's playin' is pretty much alike, 
 and, if ye remember thet his tunes all have somethin' 
 to do with marryin', you can't be very far wrong, no 
 matter what you call 'em. I reckon mother didn't 
 give him very much variety in her housekeeping for 
 it's had an awful monotonous effect on his music. 
 Don't speak to him now, Mr. Bruce. He's allus 
 easier in his mind if ye let him play a tune through ; 
 to stop him short in the middle is harrowin' to his 
 feelin's and gen'rally crops out arterwards. Come in 
 right away and have breakfast." 
 
 And, without a word to her sire, she piloted the 
 amused Bruce past the absorbed violinist, leaving
 
 62 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 him still fiddling violently upon the door-step. The 
 crippled " Aulus " stopped at the door to lift his nose 
 to the sky and utter a long-drawn, agonizing howl of 
 protest with which canine commentary upon the 
 unmelodiousness of the old man's music, he, too, 
 abandoned him and hobbled within. 
 
 The day had worn away into the early afternoon. 
 The northward shadows of the live-oaks were swing- 
 ing gradually to the east. Far up the valley the 
 dusky bodies of the buck-herd were seen slowly graz- 
 ing toward the ranch. It was just after dinner, and 
 the wintry sunlight on the southern wall of the ranch 
 beat softly down with a grateful and cheering warmth. 
 The air was slumberous and still not a breath or a 
 sound to break the prairie stillness, save where an oc- 
 casional marmot raised his peevish bark against the 
 oppressive silence, and disappeared in his burrow with 
 a gurgling murmur of disapprobation. High over- 
 head the ever-watchful buzzards were circling lazily, 
 the sunlight flashing now and then on their gory heads 
 as they wheeled with wings aslant. 
 
 In the sunniest angle of the ranch Bruce and his 
 white-haired host were seated, smoking. The old 
 man, enjoying the aroma of one of the ranchman's 
 cigars, which he mumbled at a very precarious angle 
 between his scant teeth, was in an expectant frame of 
 mind and unusually genial. Cynthia was seated be- 
 neath a live-oak, playing with her fawn. 
 
 "Do you reckon them folks o' your'n '11 be any- 
 ways anxious about ye ? " old Dallas inquired, blow- 
 ing out a cloud of smoke, as if the chief luxury in 
 smoking was expelling it forcibly. 
 
 "I hardly think so," Bruce replied, lazily tilting
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 63 
 
 his chair against the side of the house, with his hands 
 clasped behind his head. He had thrown his hat on 
 the ground, and the whiteness of his forehead con- 
 trasted with the bronzed hue of his cheeks and the 
 luxuriance of his square, curling beard. " My part- 
 ner, Kernochan, understands me pretty well by this 
 time, and knows I generally come out all right, so he 
 won't give himself any uneasiness. There may be a 
 little fuss when my horse turns up at the ranch, 
 though. I shouldn't be surprised if Phil rode over 
 here to-morrow." 
 
 "Wai, you're takin' it pretty easy here, seein' ez 
 they hain't the least idea whar ye be," returned Al- 
 cides, frankly. " But that's what we want to hev ye 
 do, tho'," he added, after a pause, fearing his mean- 
 ing might be misconstrued. "Visitors with agree- 
 able manners, and good terbacker, is all-fired sca'ce in 
 this country," he continued, with the general air of 
 paying a compliment. 
 
 He rose from his chair with an effort due to rheu- 
 matism and the uncompromising character of his 
 knee-joints, and swept the horizon with an anxious 
 eye. 
 
 "Durn my skin, ef thar ain't the sheriff, after 
 all!" he exclaimed, as a small man, mounted on a 
 sorrel horse, rode up to the gate at a fox-trot, and, 
 throwing himself from the saddle with a nervous im- 
 patience, proceeded to tether the animal by the lariat 
 which hung from the pommel. His nimble fingers 
 were quick at the task. He came toward them with 
 a rapid step, his revolvers swinging in their holsters, 
 and his spurs clinking as he strode. 
 
 " Wai, Ike Mosely, ye've got over here at last, hev
 
 64: A NYMPH OF TEE WEST. 
 
 ye ? " said Alcides, stumping forward eagerly to meet 
 the new-comer. "I've been a-worryin' about this 
 killin' o' my stock. I reckon ye'll beleeve me, when 
 I tell ye I'm right glad to see ye." 
 
 "Ain't long to stay nuther," returned the sheriff, 
 grasping the proffered hand of old Dallas with a hur- 
 ried shake, and dropping it again immediately. "I 
 never struck sech a rush o' bizness sence them tem- 
 p'rance idgits tried to ruin Texas by inauguratin' the 
 Brady City crusade. Ye heard about the ' Temper- 
 ance Ball.' Wai, the reaction after thet nonsense 
 pretty near used up Ike Mosely ! I slept with my six- 
 shooters on me, and lived on rye-whisky, for the best 
 part o' six months. I don't propose to give the citi- 
 zens o' the Lone Star an opportunity to lay back for 
 future cussedness ag'in, ef I have anythin' to say about 
 it. It's mos' too wearin' on the narves. Ez it is, I've 
 hed two hangin's already this week to say nothin' o' 
 these rumors o' yours about hoss-stealin' and hog- 
 killin'. And now, jes' ez I was jumpin' in the saddle 
 to ride over here, I got word thet the road agints have 
 begun ag'in between Lampasas and Belton. Thet 
 means all I kin swing to for four weeks certain. Ef 
 things go on at this rate, they'll hev Ike Mosely's 
 hide by the time o' the spring round-ups. 
 
 "But it's mighty dry talkin'," he said, abruptly, 
 glancing at Dallas with a significant eye; "an' I've 
 come all the way from San Marcus to look into this 
 yer bizness o' your'n. How did thet liquor I recom- 
 mended to ye turn out ?" 
 
 "I reckon it's pretty near all turned out," replied 
 Alcides, ruefully, somewhat discomfited by the urgent 
 business manner of the sheriff. "Ameelyer!" he
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 05 
 
 called, " bring out what's left in thet thar bottle, and 
 a glass for Mr. Mosely. Ike, this is Mr. Bruce, of the 
 'Mesquite Valley Eanch,' stopping with us for a 
 spell," he concluded, with a grave look, intended to 
 cover all allusion to the ranchman's mishap, but cal- 
 culated to impress the sheriff with the idea that Bruce 
 was a highwayman in disguise. 
 
 " Yer hand, Mr. Bruce," said Mosely, stepping 
 quickly forward, with a keen, penetrating glance from 
 under his shaggy brows, and a grip like a steel claw. 
 " Ah, Miss Cynthia ! or is it spring already, and are 
 the bluebirds with us again ?" he remarked, with easy 
 gallantry, as his eyes fell upon Cynthia and her mus- 
 lin dress. 
 
 He doffed his broad sombrero suddenly, exposing 
 his high forehead and scant hair. His hard, blue eyes 
 were restless and cold, like chilled steel, fie twitched 
 his huge mustaches nervously. 
 
 " It'd be a pretty bold bluebird to shake hands like 
 this with a sparrow-hawk ! " replied Cynthia, with 
 dimpled audacity, coming quickly forward and hold- 
 ing out a little hand. " Glad to see you, sir ! How 
 are all the birds down your way kites, road-runners, 
 and other jail-birds ? " 
 
 "Ho, ho !" laughed the sheriff, "ye're after rne 
 this time, aren't ye ? Guess ye must hev got up early 
 this mornin' ? " 
 
 " She did!" said old Dallas, emphatically, glanc- 
 ing at Bruce " earlier than I've seen her get up 
 since the last norther. She was thet anxious about 
 them bucks this mornin' thet she turned 'em out 
 afore sun, and run 'em more'n a mile up the creek in 
 them new slippers I got her for the ' Round-up Ball.'
 
 6G A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Strange goin's on for a young gal, Mosely strange 
 goiii's on ! " 
 
 " Sho ! " said the sheriff, laughing. " 'Tain't every 
 day they's a good-lookin' young feller 'round to get up 
 for. Is it, Miss Cynthia ? If they were all old and 
 gray-headed like me and your old man I couldn't 
 blame ye, ef ye never got up ! " 
 
 He glanced around to note the effect of his words, 
 but Cynthia had disappeared. At the first allusion 
 to her early morning ramble, she had stampeded the 
 fawn and scampered away in pursuit. Mosely turned 
 and shot a glance at Bruce. He was smoking with 
 easy nonchalance. But here the approach of the 
 ebony Amelia, bearing a frothy mixture which looked 
 uncommonly like a milk-punch, interrupted his re- 
 flections. 
 
 " Heah am de boss bev'age arter hossback-ridin', 
 sah !" exclaimed that sable Hebe, handing the tum- 
 bler to the sheriff. " Dey ain't nothin' wot goes quite 
 so fur or strikes quite so neah de spot. It stim'lates 
 de functions an' 'suscitates de system at de same 
 time, sah ! Besides," she added, with a crafty wink, 
 "I didn' wan' to scare yo', nohow, wid de state ob 
 dat bottle after de egg-nogg dis'pation ob de las' 
 ebenin' ! " 
 
 " Let you alone, Amelia, for takin' care of me ! " 
 returned Mosely, draining the mixture with a grateful 
 smack. " Thet puts a heart in a man d'rectly. Now, 
 Al, what's all this about hogs and bosses ? " he in- 
 quired, sitting down on an adjacent nail-keg, with a 
 careless hand upon the butt of a six-shooter, and his 
 head one side in the attitude of listening. 
 
 " Thanks ! Thet's my size, every time ! " he re-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. G7 
 
 marked, as Bruce rose to his feet, offering him a cigar 
 as he did so. 
 
 He bit the end off meditatively. 
 
 " Ye needn't go off mad. There isn't anythin' 
 private about this yer bizness is there, Al ? " the 
 sheriff inquired, gazing after the ranchman as he 
 sauntered away. 
 
 "Not much ! The more public ye make it, the 
 better I'll like it," returned the elder Dallas. "I 
 want ye to shoot them fellers, or hev this marorderin' 
 stopped." 
 
 Bruce did not reply. He was already out of hear- 
 ing. Ike Mosely glanced critically at his broad shoul- 
 ders and well-proportioned limbs. In the repose of 
 his youthful strength, he seemed the very incarnation 
 of the sturdy live-oaks among which he strode. 
 
 " A likely young feller," said Mr. Mosely, smoking 
 violently and chewing the end of his cigar nervously. 
 " Somehow I rather like his style. In a row I reckon 
 you could count on him. Al, if you're lookin' for a 
 son-in-law thet'd do you and Cynthia both credit, 
 you'll do well to encourage thet chap. He has my 
 best wishes. He's got sand. " 
 
 And with this official summary of a husband's 
 requisites, he addressed himself to the business before 
 him.
 
 V. 
 
 IT was still early morning at the "Mesquite Val- 
 ley Ranch." A calm tranquillity rested upon the 
 limitless prairie. The scattered files of trees that 
 everywhere straggled across the undulating plain, and 
 gave the locality its distinguishing title, were mute 
 and motionless, as if yet in awe of the recent sunrise. 
 The effulgent sun was lording it over the levels, steep- 
 ing thicket and chaparral with genial warmth, and 
 projecting the shadows of slowly-moving clouds upon 
 the plain beneath, as in some soft, green mirror. The 
 large pools of water, which at irregular intervals dot- 
 ted the valley and outlined the course of Indian Creek, 
 were populous with wild-fowl, swinging silently among 
 the reeds and grasses, or rising in noisy company and 
 winging their clanging way across the misty landscape. 
 A few plover piped mournfully from the uplands. 
 The quarrelsome cawing of ravens, holding a stormy 
 conclave in some remote tree-top, at times rose angrily 
 upon the morning air ; and grazing occasionally, 
 at intervals raising his head to regard with attent 
 ears and quivering nostrils the prairie before him, 
 but pursuing a direct course for the distant ranch- 
 house over the sunlit level, a large sorrel horse, sad- 
 dled and bridled, but riderless, came shrilly neighing.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 09 
 
 The house which the horse was thus approaching 
 was large and substantial, and built in the fashion of 
 ranches of the better class. Square in shape, it yet 
 looked from the open prairie a mere box, rising above 
 the vast monotony of the boundless plain. But the 
 curious visitor, who remarked it from a nearer view- 
 point, found it commodious in its appointments, sur- 
 rounded with a strong barb-wire fence, and flanked 
 by out-buildings and corrals more ambitious in struct- 
 ure than the dwellings of most ranchmen. A broad, 
 sunny veranda ran the entire length of the house, 
 commanding the vast expanse of the outlying valley, 
 as it faded on the right into dim vistas of foliage, 
 tremulous, that morning, with the misty veiling of 
 the coming spring ; on the left, into the rugged out- 
 lines of the Llano Hills. Over the floor of the porch, 
 where the sunlight lay in broad squares and patches, 
 a half-dozen Mexican saddles were strewed, their bri- 
 dles slung upon the circular pommels, their broad 
 stirrup-leathers picturesque and embossed. Whips and 
 lariats were lying about. Several colossal rocking- 
 chairs occupied the foreground, with a general air of 
 proprietorship enhanced by their unwieldy bulk. A 
 magnificent buffalo-robe, thrown carelessly over a long 
 reclining chair and warm with the rays of the sun, 
 invited luxurious repose. And above the entrance 
 to the ranch the branching antlers of a deer were fast- 
 ened, stamping the hospitality of the proprietors with 
 suggestions of the frontier. 
 
 The wide doors of the rancho stood invitingly open 
 to the balmy morning air. Within, the broad, bare 
 hallway, with its adjacent doors upon either hand 
 opening into various rooms, was dimly seen. The
 
 70 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 walls were picturesque with rifles, revolvers, and ten- 
 nis-racquets, tastefully arranged and grouped. A gui- 
 tar, lying carelessly among a heap of cushions on a 
 comfortable lounge, betrayed by its blue and yellow 
 ribbons the adornment of feminine fingers. A large 
 stuffed eagle with extended wings, at the end of the 
 hall, typified the far-reaching destinies of the Ameri- 
 can Republic. 
 
 A young girl came suddenly to the door and looked 
 out over the broad valley, shading her brown eyes 
 against the glare of the sunlight with the fingers of a 
 jeweled hand. She was tall and stately, and the sim- 
 ple folds of her cloth morning-gown swept to her feet 
 with a graciousness and ease that betokened position. 
 The dainty white collar at her throat was fastened by 
 a single diamond stud that flashed as if in rivalry of 
 the clear eyes above it. Her brown hair was gathered 
 in the simplicity of the Grecian knot the soft tresses, 
 waving about her temples, were like spun silk. From 
 the long, dark lashes that swept her beautiful eyes to 
 the heavily bowed slippers that peeped beneath her 
 robe, she was all refinement and grace. And the small 
 handkerchief she raised to her parted lips breathed 
 that faint atmosphere of odor which seems to identify 
 the presence of beauty. 
 
 She stood quietly a few moments in the corner of 
 the doorway, gazing out dreamily over the limitless 
 prospect, at the vast billows of prairie stretching before 
 her like an emerald sea. Her eyes wore an expression 
 of wistful tenderness, and there was in them a shade 
 of disappointment, as one has seen the water of a 
 liquid pool darker in the shadow of some overhanging 
 rock. Then she came listlessly forward, and sank
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 71 
 
 down upon the reclining chair, nestling herself in the 
 soft folds of the warm robe with a little comfortable 
 shudder. Her dark lashes swept her cheek, half hid- 
 den in the long fur ; her hands held a vellum copy of 
 verses she had taken from the chair, where it had 
 been thrown carelessly down. But she was not read- 
 ing ; and the eyes she lifted absently from the book 
 strayed wearily away to the valley. Surely it was 
 very early in the day for reverie and meditation. 
 
 The sudden neighing of a horse startled her. She 
 sprang to her feet abruptly, the color mounting to 
 her cheeks and suffusing her neck with blushes, an 
 eloquent delight flashing in her dark eyes. The sor- 
 rel horse stood expectantly at the gateway of the ran- 
 cho, his long lariat trailing from the saddle-bow, his 
 mane and forelock tossed and disheveled with his 
 long wandering. 
 
 The girl gazed at him breathlessly a brief moment ; 
 the next, the rosy flush faded from her cheeks, and 
 she stood white as the neighboring wall, her hands 
 clasped before her. She reeled a little, and sat down 
 again in the nearest chair, as if to recover herself. 
 
 A few moments she sat thus, trembling violently, 
 her bosom heaving, regarding the motionless horse 
 at the gate with blanched face and agonized eyes. 
 Then there was the sound of footsteps, and a tall, 
 handsome man, with bronzed face and flashing eyes, 
 came striding along the hall and out upon the sunlit 
 porch. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, Edith ? You are not ill, 
 I hope," he said, coming rapidly toward the young 
 lady with an anxious face, as he observed the appar- 
 ent weakness of her attitude.
 
 72 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, Phil ! a sudden faintness, that's 
 all," the young girl answered, striving to rise, a faint 
 color like the flush of dawn struggling to her cheek. 
 She put her hand to her head with a deft, womanly 
 gesture. 
 
 "It's so very warm here this morning I can 
 scarcely breathe, and I sat down to rest a moment." 
 
 She laughed an anxious, nervous little laugh. 
 
 The man regarded her with grave solicitude. 
 
 "You don't seem as well lately," he said. "I 
 fear you find this wild life of ours less heneficial than 
 we anticipated ; or perhaps, Edith, you neglect your 
 exercise. We must go to-day for another long prairie 
 canter. Let me call my wife to your assistance." 
 
 He turned back to the door of the rancho, and 
 called "Kate!" twice in a loud, imperative voice. 
 There was a musical reply, the sound of a closing 
 door, the hurrying of slippered feet across the bare 
 hallway, and then, with the sudden revelation of a 
 pale-blue morning-wrapper, fluttering skirts, and fly- 
 ing golden braids, the advent of " Kate." 
 
 "Just see the state that Edith is in !" said Phil 
 Kernochan, pityingly, directing the gaze of this blonde 
 and radiant apparition to the figure in the chair. 
 " What had we better do with her ? " 
 
 He turned as he spoke. 
 
 " Hello ! " he shouted, his eyes falling for the 
 first time on the sorrel pony standing by the rancho- 
 gate. " There's Hal's pony ! When in the world 
 did he arrive ? " He glanced again at the reclining girl. 
 A light seemed breaking in upon him. 
 
 "Why, it can't be," he said in amazement, "that 
 his horse has walked off and left him, and he's been
 
 A OTMPE OP THE WEST. 73 
 
 obliged to lay out a night or two on the bald prairie ! 
 Well, that's rich, I declare I " 
 
 He ran hurriedly down the steps of the veranda, 
 and strode away to the ranch-gate. He threw it 
 wide open, and the pony, with a whinny of welcome, 
 trotted gladly within. 
 
 Kernochan regarded him critically, taking his 
 meerschaum pipe from his lips, an amused smile ac- 
 centing the curves of his mouth beneath his light 
 mustache. There was no sign of violence or acci- 
 dent. A few cockle-burs clung to the mustang's 
 mane, an acquisition of his recent travels. The 
 rolled blanket still hung from the crupper of the 
 saddle. 
 
 Kernochan gathered up the lariat and slung it on 
 the pommel. 
 
 "Rube !" he shouted, turning his head in the di- 
 rection of the neighboring corrals, where a thick-set 
 and sun-tanned individual was busy doctoring some 
 ailing sheep, "give this horse a feed of corn and 
 groom him a little ; take his saddle off and turn him 
 loose in the door-yard till to-morrow. Don't hopple 
 him ! " he directed, as the man approached in answer 
 to the summons. 
 
 He turned back to the veranda, laughing quietly 
 to himself, as if some pleasant revelation had dawned 
 upon him. The fragrant wreaths of smoke from his 
 pipe rose above his head and brooded in the still, 
 calm air. 
 
 "Well, ladies," he said, coming tranquilly up the 
 steps, his recent amusement still lingering in his eyes, 
 "it seems, our careless friend, Bruce, has seen fit to 
 let his horse come home without him. I suppose
 
 74: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 the only thing we can do ia to ride out and look him 
 up." 
 
 "There, Edith Stafford, I told you that was all it 
 amounted to ! " exclaimed Kate Kernochan, smiling 
 reassuringly at the young lady over whom she had 
 been sympathetically engaged ever since his depart- 
 ure. " Give me back my cameo vinaigrette this in- 
 stant ! The idea of your being so foolish, dear ! " 
 
 Miss Edith Stafford languidly extended the article 
 in question an exquisite blue trifle, carved to 
 represent a crested grebe, and a relic of Phil Ker- 
 nochan's generosity during his extravagant court 
 ship. 
 
 "Do you think, then, he isn't dead?" she in- 
 quired, sitting up with sudden animation. "I was 
 certain of it ! Oh, dear ! I shall never get used to 
 the dreadful uncertainties of this primitive country. 
 I was quite positive some awful crime had been 
 perpetrated." Then, springing eagerly to* her feet, 
 " Let us ride out for him at once. Poor fellow, he 
 may be starving to death ! I'll put on my riding- 
 habit right off.'' 
 
 She dashed away to the door with a haste that 
 contrasted with her recent feebleness. 
 
 " One moment," said Kenochan, catching up a 
 leather quirt from the veranda and flecking his 
 boot with it; "I thought we'd make a hunting trip 
 of this search, and kill two birds with one stone. 
 Ha ! ha ! starving to death that's good ! You 
 catch Henry Bruce starving to death with a breech- 
 loading shot-gun and matches enough to stock a 
 ranch. Not much ! Well, what do you say ? There 
 are lots of wild turkey between here and the Colorado
 
 A NYMPH OF TUB WEST. 75 
 
 River ; we might take the dogs along and course any 
 that came in our way." 
 
 " Oh, that would be charming ! " cried Miss Staf- 
 ford, turning back to flash her gratification upon 
 Kernochan, with a revelation of radiant teeth and 
 eloquent smiles. " Come, Kate, let's hurry and get 
 ready ! We won't be a moment I " 
 
 And, with this feminine estimate of that indefinite 
 period allotted to matters of the toilet, the ladies 
 rushed from the veranda. 
 
 An hour later they were galloping over the sunlit 
 levels, their cheeks glowing, their pulses thrilling with 
 the exhilarating exercise. Both accustomed to the 
 saddle, they rode with a graceful freedom and dash. 
 Their bay ponies, accustomed to be driven together 
 in harness, seemed to derive a certain pleasure in rid- 
 ing side by side, as if yoked to a chariot, and the la- 
 dies, clasping their gloved hands, at times challenged 
 each other to a burst of speed, when they flew along 
 neck and neck until some intervening bush or tree 
 compelled them to break the chain. Phil Kernochan, 
 mounted upon his iron gray, witnessed this graceful 
 revival of the circus-ring with some admiration, and 
 put his horse to his paces to keep the contestants be- 
 neath his eye. The dogs two large, tawny Scotch 
 greyhounds ranged far ahead, crossing from side to 
 side. 
 
 Suddenly a startled jack-rabbit plunged from his 
 form and limped away to the right, his eyes blinking 
 stupid wonder, his exaggerated ears caricaturing his 
 fright. Kernochan charged him with a shout, rising 
 in his stirrups and sending a bullet from his revolver 
 after him, while at full gallop. In an instant the dogs
 
 76 A NYMPH OP THE WEST. 
 
 turned, and, catching a glimpse of the fleeing hare, 
 followed in pursuit. Half for the fun of the thing, 
 Kernochan dropped his spurs into the flanks of his 
 gray and started after, calling to the girls to follow. 
 
 The jack-rabbit pursued the customary tactics of 
 that remarkable animal. He ran for a few moments 
 at the speed of a railway-train, and with evolutions of 
 his hind-legs that would have done credit to a hay- 
 tedder. Then he stopped abruptly, and with his un- 
 manageable ears, spread like a vessel wing and wing, 
 leered derisively at the following dogs, exhibiting that 
 insolent confidence in his powers of speed which only 
 a jack-rabbit can successfully affect. The next in- 
 stant, realizing that no ordinary Texan dog was after 
 him, and that the power to annihilate space was not 
 with him alone, he was off like a bolt from a cross- 
 bow, quartering suddenly to the right, and easily dis- 
 tancing the greyhounds ; but at a velocity that can 
 only be indicated by saying that the line of his course 
 was visible to the pursuers as a zigzag streak of jack- 
 rabbit. 
 
 Meanwhile the mounted party, unable to check 
 their running ponies in their headlong career, swept 
 over the spot where the hare had doubled by several 
 yards. Kernochan was the first to turn, almost lift- 
 ing his gray with the bit, as he wheeled him sharply 
 round on his off hind-heel, and for an instant was 
 etched against the pale-blue sky an equestrian statue, 
 with pawing hoofs, flapping sombrero, and flying bri- 
 dle-rein. In that brief moment he caught a glimpse 
 of Edith, pushing her panting bay to his utmost, and 
 closely followed by Kate. He could not repress a 
 feeling of admiration for the courageous girl as her
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. ?? 
 
 lithe body swung lightly with the movement of her 
 horse, and a loosened braid of brown hair tossed upon 
 her shoulder. Her eyes were bright with the excite- 
 ment of the chase, and the face beneath her glossy 
 black beaver, an inspiration of beauty and color. 
 
 His eye caught this flying picture as in the flash 
 of a camera. A moment after, a loud whirring and 
 flapping filled the air. Several large, dusky objects 
 rose between him and the ladies, flying in all direc- 
 tions. He caught a glimpse of others running before 
 him in line, their red necks outstretched, their mus- 
 cular legs rising and falling alternately. They had 
 surprised a small flock of wild turkeys while feeding. 
 
 He called to the dogs, already far in advance chas- 
 ing the fleeing jack, which doubled so quickly and 
 adroitly that they invariably ran over him. The 
 birds were scattering to every point of the compass. 
 Several were still running ahead of him, not yet hav- 
 ing taken wing. He turned in his saddle and shouted 
 a warning back to the ladies, who had checked their 
 horses, disconcerted by the scattering of the flying 
 game. 
 
 "Follow the bird I take !" came hoarsely back to 
 them, accompanied by some inarticulate sentence 
 about "getting lost." A minute after, they saw the 
 gray horse charge the foremost of the remaining tur- 
 keys an old gobbler, whose iridescent plumes flashed 
 in the sunlight with bronze and gold. 
 
 The old bird rose at once in the air, taking wing 
 at first with a strong and rapid flight. They were on 
 the crest of a prairie billow, the valley below being 
 unusually open, dotted here and there with an occa- 
 sional clump of live-oak. A dark motte of pecans at
 
 78 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 the upper end of this valley flanked the horizon, and 
 indicated the presence of water. 
 
 Down the slope of the slight divide the horses 
 went at full gallop, Kernochan fifty yards in advance. 
 
 "Look out for marmot-burrows ! " he shouted 
 back, as they charged down upon the open plain. 
 The dogs were with them now, and swept on ahead, 
 their elastic bodies bending double at every bound, 
 their eyes fastened on the gobbler, sweeping still high 
 over their heads, but beginning to droop. At last he 
 came to the ground, fully a mile from where he first 
 took wing, and ran like a scared cat. 
 
 After him, over the grassy level, swept the chase 
 in full cry, the dogs gaining upon the turkey at every 
 spring. The bird ran gamely and at a great pace, but 
 with wings outspread and outstretched neck showing 
 his fatigue. He was very heavy and fat, besides be- 
 ing oppressed by the weight of his winter plum- 
 age. 
 
 Seeing all this, Kernochan urged his horse to his 
 utmost, and was soon close upon the dogs. The 
 turkey rose again, but heavily, passing so near him 
 before he got under way that he struck at him with 
 his heavy quirt in the hope to bring him down. 
 Once in the air, the gobbler wheeled to the right, 
 sailing away this time in the direction of the pecan- 
 grove, as if he hoped to find shelter among the lofty 
 trees. Quickly availing themselves of this change of 
 direction, Edith and Kate turned their horses. In a 
 few moments the three were riding furiously after the 
 flying bird, almost neck and neck. 
 
 The bird showed signs of weariness. His legs 
 began to droop. He flew for several hundred yards,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 79 
 
 dropping lower and lower, his head moving uneasily 
 from side to side. 
 
 " After him ! " shouted Kernochan, in his excite- 
 ment rising in his stirrups and urging on the hounds. 
 The hinder dog appeared to gather himself for a sec- 
 ond, when he went to the front with a sudden rush, 
 springing clear of the ground and snapping his teeth 
 like a steel trap under the feet of the bird. The 
 turkey drew his legs up convulsively with a sudden 
 cry that showed his alarm. 
 
 " Bravo 1 " cried Edith, lashing her pony at the 
 hound's exploit. 
 
 The bird came down shortly after this, and ran 
 desperately, as if for the last time. They were close 
 upon the pecan-grove. All at once the gobbler began 
 to circle. Urging his horse at full speed, his eyes in- 
 tent upon the coursing dogs and fleeing quarry, Ker- 
 nochan was suddenly surprised to see the turkey 
 double and rise in the air, coming right back upon 
 them, flying about the height of his saddle, and 
 passing between Kate and himself. 
 
 He reined his horse up with all the strength of his 
 body, throwing him flat upon his haunches by the 
 suddenness of the movement. The hounds, surprised 
 by this unexpected stratagem of their prey, ran com- 
 pletely over one another in their efforts to check their 
 onward course. At the same moment, with a rush of 
 wind and a jingle of bit and spur, a horseman passed 
 him flying like the wind. He caught a glimpse of a 
 roan horse, conspicuous for the prominence of his 
 Roman nose and hanging under lip ; a strong, well- 
 knit figure, picturesque in flapping sombrero and 
 heavy leathern leggings that reached to the hip ; and
 
 80 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 realized that, as the man passed him, he was gather- 
 ing up the lariat that trailed from his saddle-bow, as 
 if about to throw it. 
 
 In an instant Kernochan had wheeled his gray and 
 was galloping back after the bird. He had scarcely 
 done so, when he saw the horseman swinging his riata 
 about his head preparatory to making a cast. The 
 turkey was just ahead of him, running from side to 
 side, apparently in great distress, its wings outspread, 
 its feathers ruffled, its bill open as it gasped for 
 breath. The man rose in the stirrup and flung his 
 lasso. The long folds of the rope shot forward in a 
 gigantic spiral, falling to earth full on the sloping 
 back of the bird. Hardly had the flying coil left the 
 horseman's hand when the intelligent cow-pony 
 stopped short, bracing his fore feet for the expected 
 shock ; but the adroit bird ducked suddenly under 
 the noose, brushing it off with a flap of his great 
 wings. The gobbler swerved suddenly to one side. 
 It was his last effort for life. The hounds, quarter- 
 ing at the moment, met him with open mouth, and 
 catching him fair, dragged the noble bird down amid 
 a cloud of dust and flying feathers. 
 
 Kernochan checked his horse instantly, and spring- 
 ing from the saddle, beat the dogs off with his riding- 
 quirt. He raised the great turkey by the legs, but 
 even then was obliged to dispatch it, as it was not yet 
 dead. Fully twenty pounds in weight, the magnifi- 
 cent bird glowed, in the glancing metallic hues of his 
 plumage a very rainbow of color a peacock of the 
 plain. He held it aloft with both hands before tying 
 it to his saddle, and turned to share with Kate and 
 Edith in admiring its beauties. As he did so, he was
 
 A NYMPn OF THE WEST. 81 
 
 startled by a cry from Kate. She had halted a few 
 yards away, and was seated in the saddle, pointing in 
 the direction of the pecan-motte with her riding- 
 whip, her face pale with anxiety and alarm. A few 
 paces distant the strange horseman was seated quietly 
 upon his pony, engaged in coiling up his lariat and 
 attaching it to his saddle's pommel. 
 
 He, too, turned at the exclamation, raising his 
 hand to .his eyes to shield them from the glare of the 
 sun. He stared for a moment, gazing out upon the 
 valley ; then, striking his spurs into his roan, with 
 long, loose stirrups and bridle thrown free upon the 
 animal's neck, he seemed to put him in a twinkling 
 at the top of his speed. He vanished from his post 
 with the speed and fury of a meteor. Before Kerno- 
 chan could throw himself into his saddle, he was far 
 out upon the plain. 
 
 Lost in astonishment at the mad speed of his de- 
 parture, Kernochau turned inquiringly to his wife. 
 
 " Edith ! " she gasped, turning upon him a blanched 
 face. " Do you not see her ? " 
 
 Following the direction of her outstretched hand, 
 he beheld the cause of the stranger's action. The al- 
 most level valley stretched away in front of him, clear 
 and unbroken, to the dark line of pecans distant about 
 a mile. Across this open a bay horse was running, 
 heading for the timber, and, from the rapid tossing 
 of the animal's head, apparently unmanageable. Its 
 rider, although sitting firmly, had evidently aban- 
 doned the reins, as if the bit were useless or broken, 
 and was endeavoring to maintain her position by 
 grasping the pommel of her saddle with both hands. 
 Kernochan saw at a glance that the horse, whether 
 6
 
 82 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 from fright or excitement, was running away, and 
 that the situation of the rider was perilous in the ex- 
 treme. A misstep, or stumble, or a dash among the 
 timber for which they were headed, might hurl her 
 from the saddle and to instant death. He now un- 
 derstood the headlong haste with which the horseman 
 had dashed away. 
 
 Helpless to stay or avert the terrible danger which 
 threatened their guest, husband and wife remained 
 rooted to the spot. The bay pony still ran recklessly, 
 with ears viciously laid back, and tail streaming. 
 Edith, her brown hair shaken loose and tossing upon 
 her shoulders, the flying folds of her dark habit puf- 
 fing around her, still clung to her saddle and kept her 
 seat. The galloping horseman, closing in upon her 
 in a long circle, was riding like a centaur, his roan a 
 thunder-bolt of action against the dull horizon. A 
 moment more and he had wheeled in her wake, rising 
 in his stirrups and lashing his horse a dozen times 
 with his cruel whip as he rode. They saw him take 
 the reins in his teeth, cast off his coat and hat, and, 
 after a few more blows of his quirt, fling that away 
 also. The roan horse, goaded to fury by the blows, 
 flew like the wind, closing the gap between them at 
 every spring. The horseman shifted his reins to his 
 left hand, standing erect in his stirrups, and urging 
 him to a final burst of speed. Kate and Philip caught 
 their breath. With a rush the horses seemed to glide 
 together, the roan passing to the left. For a second 
 they appeared as if yoked, straining neck and neck, 
 and almost flank against flank ; the next, the horse- 
 man bent forward, throwing his sinewy right arm 
 about the girl's waist as she sat in the saddle. With
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 83 
 
 a sudden effort he lifted her clear of the saddle- 
 horn, and, as a blow of his boot swerved the bay 
 pony to the right, he bore her away in his embrace, 
 checking his horse as he ran. A second later, halting 
 in the shade of the great pecan-grove, he dropped his 
 fair burden lightly to the ground.
 
 VI. 
 
 THE vertical rays of noontide were beating down 
 upon Cynthia's bower. Here and there an occasional 
 shaft of sunlight pierced the groined roof, glanced with 
 a golden gleam across the twilight depths, and shivered 
 itself upon the needle-strewn floor in a shower of 
 shining sparks. The leafy ceiling above was bright 
 with a thousand luminous points from the steady glare 
 without. Now and then a cone fell, or a feathery 
 seed-vessel slipped softly to the earth in the gloom of 
 the columned aisles. The sudden bright flash of in- 
 vading wings, the hurried scampering of a rabbit, or 
 the rustle of some lizard, wakened from his siesta on 
 a sun-steeped bowlder, testified the popularity of shade 
 and coolness during the heat of the day. The rattling 
 notes of a banjo, struck at intervals, the low murmur 
 of voices in conversation, and, above all, the odor of 
 burning tobacco, overmastering the aromatic incense 
 of the wilds, announced the presence of other visitors. 
 They were Bruce and Cynthia. 
 
 The young girl was seated at the base of a scarred 
 and denuded hemlock, the light sifting through the 
 branches above and falling full upon her head and 
 shoulders. A small banjo, showing signs of abuse 
 and exposure to the elements, lay in her lap. Occa- 
 sionally she struck the strings. Half reclining at her
 
 A NYMPH OF TIIE WEST. 85 
 
 feet, and completely enveloped in the wreaths of 
 smoke that brooded like a blue vapor in the quiet air, 
 Bruce lay smoking. The antelope - fawn, its feet 
 curled up, its velvet eyes blinking drowsily ; " Anlus," 
 his great right paw in a muslin sling, and regarding 
 his unfortunate predicament with a general flavor of 
 solicitude and "mustang liniment," completed this 
 rural quartette. 
 
 A sudden breath of air dispersed the smoke, favor- 
 ing the hound with a passing whiff. He sneezed vio- 
 lently, and looked annoyed, as if the last test had been 
 put upon his patience. 
 
 "You smoke too much, Mr. Bruce," said Cynthia, 
 waving the passing cloud from the dog's head with a 
 compassionate hand. "If you keep it up, I wouldn't 
 wonder ef, one day, you got jest as homely and coffee- 
 colored as thet skull. Why don't ye quit before it 
 gets you ? " 
 
 Bruce laughed, and removed the long amber mouth- 
 piece of his pipe from his lips. It was of meer- 
 schaum, and carved to represent a hand holding a 
 human skull. 
 
 "I don't know," he said, blowing a huge ring, 
 that shot forward with curling folds until it broke 
 upon the nose of the nodding antelope. "I suppose 
 I like to smoke, and then I seem to stand it very well. 
 Possibly, too, there is something in my associations 
 with the pipe." 
 
 "Who gave it to you, Mr. Bruce ?" said Cynthia, 
 quickly, raising her eyes to his. They were solemn 
 and deep, and beneath their dark lashes reminded 
 Bruce of some calm, blue pool he had seen in the 
 shadow of a wood.
 
 86 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 "A friend of mine," he answered, indefinitely, 
 noting her earnestness. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "but I meant, was it a man, or 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 Her eyes dropped suddenly from his face, and she 
 struck the protesting banjo roughly in her embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 "It was a lady," Bruce replied, gravely. 
 
 "Light or dark complected?" asked Cynthia, 
 breathlessly, not raising her eyes. 
 
 "Dark," said Bruce in the same tone "a rich 
 creamy brown I don't think that even that beauti- 
 ful tint there," he continued, indicating where the 
 soft white of the stem was faintly dyed "could hope 
 to vie with her. Her eyes were dark too more like 
 that," touching the hue of the bowl ; "and her hair 
 there is nothing here to show you that can do it 
 justice." 
 
 Cynthia sighed. 
 
 "Lawful sakes!" she exclaimed. "An' is thet 
 the reason you're smokin' thet thing all the while, 
 'cause ye jest naturally expect, one day, to make it 
 look like thet chocolate-colored woman ? " 
 
 Bruce hurriedly disclaimed any such intention. 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't try," she rejoined, "for, by the 
 time you've done it, ye'll prob'ly be dead. Father 
 hed a meerschaum that he was colorin' once, but he 
 said, before he got through, it colored him instead. 
 I reckon so." After this alarming instance of the 
 effect of nicotine, she became silent. Bruce contin- 
 ued smoking. 
 
 "'How old is she?" Cynthia inquired, suddenly, 
 turning from him and glancing across the river.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 87 
 
 "That's an uncertain question," the gentleman 
 replied. "In fact, I know nothing so difficult to 
 ascertain precisely as the age of a young woman." 
 
 Cynthia looked puzzled. Then she apparently 
 received an inspiration. 
 
 "Didn't ye get to see her teeth?" she inquired, 
 demurely, but revealing an irresistible circle of pearl 
 by the question. 
 
 The gentleman overlooked in silence this query, 
 prompted no doubt by her knowledge of sheep. 
 
 "Where does she live?" inquired Miss Dallas, 
 nothing daunted. 
 
 "About twenty miles from here," Bruce replied. 
 
 "Oh !" said Cynthia. She was suddenly silent. 
 The soft sunlight played amid the tresses of her golden 
 hair, as with downcast lashes she caressed the ante- 
 lope, burying her fingers in his rough coat. A few 
 needles, shaken from the pines, drifted down upon 
 her. It was as if the fond fathers of the wood were 
 wafting a benediction upon the one who cheered their 
 solitude. High on some rocking bough a blue jay 
 flung his bright pennant, and filled the air with his 
 harsh calling. 
 
 Suddenly Cynthia raised her head. 
 
 " Do you expect to see her soon ? " 
 
 "See whom?" 
 
 " Thet girl you're so gone on ? " she inquired, with 
 matter-of-fact gravity. 
 
 Bruce was about to enter an emphatic protest. 
 In his earnestness he leaned toward Cynthia and took 
 her hand. The girl trembled a little, and the color 
 dyed her cheek, but she did not withdraw it. She 
 lifted her eyes to his and smiled upon him so sweetly,
 
 88 A NYMrH OF THE WEST. 
 
 that whatever of mischief there had been in her ques- 
 tion fled before it. Such a radiant beauty had sud- 
 denly come to dwell within her eyes. 
 
 The quick snapping of a twig caused Bruce to 
 look up. He dropped the girl's hand abruptly with 
 an embarrassed air. 
 
 Two ladies were standing in a sunlit opening 
 without and gazing into the bower. They were in 
 riding-habits, their long skirts gathered in their left 
 hands, their whips in their right. The younger of 
 the two a dashing brunette was modishly attired. 
 A glossy black beaver, perched saucily on her head, 
 accented the flash of the dark eyes beneath. The bit 
 of black lace at her throat was fastened with a dia- 
 mond. Her hands were fastidiously gloved. She 
 laughed a merry, ringing laugh, as she advanced into 
 the bower. 
 
 " So, sir ! " she said, laying her slim gloved hand 
 upon Bruce's shoulder with a certain familiar air of 
 proprietership, "we have found you out at last! 
 And, as usual, surprised you in the attitude of a gal- 
 lant. Do not let us interrupt you, I beg ; but, at 
 least, favor us with an introduction." 
 
 She glanced coldly down at Cynthia, who, intui- 
 tively recognizing a rival, returned the glance with 
 the customary feminine cordiality. 
 
 "Why, Edith you here?" exclaimed Bruce, 
 springing to his feet, and clasping the gloved hand 
 in both his own. "And Kate ?" advancing to meet 
 the lady who had lingered without. "How is 
 this?" 
 
 " It means," said Kate, laughing, " that you are a 
 careless, wicked fellow, and that Edith has been
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 89 
 
 half dead with anxiety, fancying you killed or starved 
 to death." 
 
 " No such thing ! " replied Edith with spirit, lash- 
 ing a small cedar with her riding- whip in her embar- 
 rassment. " I knew all the while we should find him 
 at some farm-house. But I certainly think, Hal," 
 she added, glancing down at Cynthia, who, with low- 
 ered crest, had been caressing her fawn and lavish- 
 ing tender solicitude upon the wounded "Aulus," 
 ever since the ladies' arrival, "I certainly think 
 you are very exclusive in regard to your new dul- 
 cinea." 
 
 Bruce glanced at her with a look in his hazel eyes 
 that was almost reproach. Their eyes met. Edith's 
 expression was one of defiance, but in spite of herself 
 there stole into her dark orbs such a wistful tender- 
 ness such a caressing fondness for the man before 
 her that she let their curtained fringes drop before 
 his steadfast gaze, and turned her attention to Miss 
 Dallas. An embarrassing pause ensued. 
 
 " Cynthia," she heard the cordial voice of Bruce 
 say a minute later, "this is Miss Stafford the lady 
 of whom I spoke as having given me the pipe. Let 
 me make you acquainted. Also, with Mrs. Ker- 
 nochan my partner's wife. 
 
 The ladies exchanged salutations, Mrs. Kernochan 
 bestowing a kindly glance upon Cynthia, as her admir- 
 ing eyes dwelt upon the piquant face in its picturesque 
 setting of red-gold tresses. Cynthia's greeting was 
 frank, but accompanied by a shy restraint that was 
 unusual with her ; Miss Stafford's, disdainful and re- 
 served. Probably her feminine appreciation of the 
 fact that Diana's namesake was both fascinating and
 
 90 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 pretty, perceptibly lowered the temperature of her 
 recognition. 
 
 A few moments later they were all wending their 
 way back to the ranch, Cynthia preceding them, es- 
 corted by the gracefully tripping fawn and the limp- 
 ing " Aulus." Bruce accompanied the ladies. 
 
 "This picturesque, gypsy acquaintance of yours is 
 quite enchanting, with her quaint simplicity and 
 original pets," remarked Miss Stafford, glancing at 
 Bruce from under her eyelids as they fared on. " I 
 can readily see how easily you forget your former 
 friends." 
 
 " Nonsense, Edith !" Bruce returned with some 
 impatience, breaking a small twig of dry brush as 
 they passed, and hurling it from him violently as if 
 to give vent to his irritation. " This banter and 
 child's play have gone far enough. The little Lone 
 Star maiden is quite a character a charming little 
 idyl of her native river. I want you to cultivate her 
 and appreciate her originality. She is like a spicy 
 breath from her native woods ; she interests me by 
 her very novelty." 
 
 " Your eloquence is quite astounding, considering 
 the apathy of your interest," Miss Stafford returned 
 satirically, glancing away in the direction of the low 
 western hills. How indifferent they looked to human 
 disquietude, basking in the warm wintry sunlight ! 
 
 "But how came she possessed of that beautiful 
 antelope ?" inquired Kate, anxious to divert Edith's 
 jealous annoyance. " I quite envy her such a charm- 
 ing companion." 
 
 "Isolated as she is," Bruce replied, gravely, "she 
 is not without her admirers. The mother of this
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 91 
 
 fawn, she tells me, was shot by one Buck Jerrold a 
 cow-boy admirer of hers, I fancy. He found the little 
 thing bleating about the body of the dead antelope, 
 and brought it in to her after one of his hunting trips. 
 Patient nursing and a pious fraud, perpetrated by 
 Cynthia upon an old ewe which had lost her lamb, have 
 enabled her to rear it. I think it a triumphant proof 
 of her cleverness. You see, she tied the skin of the 
 dead lamb around the fawn and quite deceived old 
 ' Granny ' by the trick. Jerrold tells me " 
 
 But here, noticing the surprised look in Mrs. Ker- 
 nochan's face, he stopped in astonishment. 
 
 "Buck Jerrold I" interrupted that lady, turning 
 to Edith ; " why, that explains your gallant friend's 
 knowledge of Hal's whereabouts. I thought his reti- 
 cence rather singular at the time." 
 
 It was now Bruce's turn to appear puzzled. 
 
 " You speak in riddles," he said, gravely, regard- 
 ing them both. 
 
 The fair Kate laughed merrily at his bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 "There have been strange adventures and exciting 
 escapades since you left us, sir," she rejoined, gayly. 
 "You must look to your laurels, Hal, or a sense of 
 gratitude may induce Edith to think seriously of an- 
 other in your absence. And this Mr. Jerrold is the 
 accommodating equestrian beyond perad venture." 
 
 She briefly recounted the adventure of the morn- 
 ing, and the skillful manner in which Miss Stafford 
 had been rescued from her peril. 
 
 " Well," said Bruce, with an altered face and an 
 anxious manner, after he had listened to Mrs. Ker- 
 nochan's thrilling account, given with a woman's en-
 
 92 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 thusiasm and appreciation of detail, " this Jerrold is 
 more of a man than I took him to be, after all. He 
 seemed an odd sort of genius, with certain crotchets 
 unusual upon the frontier, and admirable enough in 
 their way, but I certainly did not look for a hero. 
 However, my dear," he added, anxiously, turning to 
 the petulant beauty who was tripping along beside 
 him, apparently indifferent to the recent conversation 
 in her fastidious avoidance of the thorny brush which 
 threatened her gathered habit, " it seems you found 
 him one." 
 
 " Many a loyal heart lurks beneath a ducking- 
 jacket," rejoined that lady, with dignity. " The un- 
 lettered men I find among the most endurable of the 
 inhabitants of this primitive country," she added, 
 quickly. 
 
 They had reached the ranch-gate and passed within 
 the inclosure. Alcides Dallas, smoking one of Phil 
 Kernochan's long cigars at a precarious angle, owing 
 to the scarcity of his teeth, was seated on a nail-keg 
 under a live-oak, regaling the latter with one of his 
 most dismal fantasies upon the violin. 
 
 Mr. Kernochan, discreetly removed to the vantage 
 of the distant door-stone, was preserving the attitude 
 of polite attention, but with a contortion of feature 
 that was distressing to witness. The tableau was so 
 ludicrous and expressive that the party burst into 
 laughter as they joined him. Alcides, seeing that his 
 efforts were producing an erroneous impression, ceased 
 playing at once, and, setting his instrument down, 
 regarded them vacantly, a hand placed idly upon 
 either knee. 
 
 " Ye don't seem to ketch on to what I was gottin'
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 93 
 
 at," he said, vaguely, regarding them with his lack- 
 luster eyes. " I reckon ye would hev, though, ef ye'd 
 waited till I got to the * wind-up.' But ef ye'd known 
 Marier, ez I did, and hed to live with her, ez I hed, 
 inter the bargain, I allow there'd been no question." 
 
 He paused as if for confirmation. That being not 
 forthcoming, but his visitors preserving a grave silence, 
 an apology, it seemed, for their previous rudeness, he 
 essayed to present his reflections in a more forcible 
 way. 
 
 "It was nigh onto ten years," he said, deliberate- 
 ly, crossing his legs luxuriously as he sat upon the 
 nail-keg, removing his cigar carefully from its socket 
 between his sparse teeth, and blowing a volume of 
 smoke forcibly upon the weed " it was nigh onto ten 
 years thet I lived with Marier, and a more hair-raisin' 
 existence, I'll allow, was never lived by any critter 
 within the circle of God's providence " 
 
 " Father," said Cynthia, coming forward with a 
 look of annoyance in her blue eyes, " aren't it almost 
 time to have dinner ? Don't you think you better 
 put off what you're goin* to say about mamma until 
 we've all had somethin' to eat, and '11 be better able 
 to stand it ? " 
 
 An amused smile went round the circle. 
 
 "I reckon so, Cynthy," said her father, rising to 
 his feet, not without visible regret at her interruption 
 of his narrative. " What's gone with Ameelyer, natch- 
 ally ? Tell her to hurry up her cakes, and not keep 
 everybody waitin'. S'posin' we fetch the table out an' 
 eat dinner in the open air, where we'll hev plenty of 
 room, bein' ez we happen to be so durned crowded ?" 
 And with this hospitable climax he rolled an inquiring
 
 94 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 eye around the assembled company, resting finally 
 upon Bruce. 
 
 " Oh, that would be charming 1 " exclaimed the 
 impulsive Mrs. Kernochan, with a little gesture of 
 ecstasy. " So like a picnic 1 And to think of our 
 being able to do it with perfect comfort in the month 
 of February I There is something astonishing, Edith, 
 to write about to your Northern friends." 
 
 Forthwith the edict of Alcides was carried to the 
 ebony Amelia by the delighted Cynthia. 
 
 " 'Pears like de domestic contrapshuns ob dis yere 
 ranch am all absquatulated," grumbled that important 
 personage, as she busied herself in carrying out the 
 crockery and arranging the table. " De boss am jes' 
 ez crazy ez de rest ob 'em," she added, darkly, as she 
 noted old Dallas still violently attacking bis cigar, and 
 watching her preparations with evident satisfaction. 
 " De fac' is, fo' God, I spec' de ole man's brain hab 
 been soft'nin' fo' de las' yeah. Ef he keeps up like 
 he hab been goin' on lately, de reckonin'-day am not 
 far away." 
 
 And, with a gesture of utter bewilderment and dis- 
 gust, she disappeared in the kitchen. 
 
 How signal a success was that picturesque banquet 
 under the good live-oaks was long remembered grate- 
 fully, alike by guests and host. How triumphant 
 were the achievements of the aged Amelia's cookery, 
 and how pre-eminently she established her former 
 claim to actual necromancy in matters of the cuisine, 
 were ever thereafter a matter of frontier history. 
 The details of that memorable repast are not strictly 
 a part of this veracious chronicle. We are not called 
 upon to record how the aged Dallas carved and
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 95 
 
 lacerated the sinewy body of the noble gobbler that 
 had well-nigh taken his fair pursuer with him to 
 the happy hunting-grounds ; how Cynthia arrayed 
 herself in her most gossamer robes, with a view to 
 paralyzing the faultless Edith, and presided at the 
 upper end of the festive board, flanked on either 
 side by the patient "Aulus" and the mischievous 
 fawn ; how the great turkey was served in a tre- 
 mendous dish-pan it happening that there was no 
 other utensil at the ranch sufficiently large to afford 
 him accommodation ; how jokes were bandied as the 
 cheer went round ; and how the last drops of the ex- 
 tra-proof whisky which Sheriff Moseley had donated 
 were lavishly poured to crown the cups of cheering 
 egg nog that passed from guest to guest ; and how, 
 above the heads of the merry revelers, the hardy 
 Texan oaks bent ever with a sturdy sympathy, and 
 showered their bounty on that rural feast, dis- 
 pensing a perennial benison of sprays and withered 
 leaves that lent the affair, in the words of Mrs. 
 Phil Kernochan, "a true picnic flavor" all these 
 are phases of the festivities less to be dwelt upon 
 than imagined. 
 
 I must not omit to mention, however, a musical 
 feature of this frontier dinner. It was at that con- 
 vivial period usually indicated as " across the walnuts 
 and the wine." The afternoon was declining. The 
 short, bright wintry day was losing itself in pensive 
 shadows and gray monotone. Something of the sad- 
 ness of the approach of night began to fall upon the 
 company, when Mrs. Kernochan proposed singing, 
 probably from a sense of this. After various ineffect- 
 ual efforts to arouse the table to the attempting of a
 
 96 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 chorus, she abandoned these in a personal appeal to 
 Miss Stafford and Henry Bruce. 
 
 " Come, Edith," said she, " you and Hal must 
 really do something for us ; sing that lovely thing 
 you have been learning lately that is so like a hope of 
 heaven in a field of graves." 
 
 Thus bidden, after the usual protestations of X>e- 
 ing in bad voice etc. afflictions which I observe 
 affect the amateur vocalist quite as unremittingly as 
 the most capricious prima donna Miss Edith lifted 
 on high a contralto so singularly rich and thrilling, 
 that the very mocking-birds among the live-oaks were 
 stricken mute with admiration. Doubtless they were 
 charmed, too, with the tenor of Henry Bruce, who 
 sang with that appreciative sympathy which often 
 eclipses the work of more accomplished vocalists. 
 About his performance, also, there was a subtle sug- 
 gestion of being quite in harmony with the beautiful 
 brunette whose voice thrilled so passionately with his. 
 This was very convincing to one of the audience. 
 She sat apart, quite dejected and alone. Her sweet 
 eyes were downcast, and, as she raised them at the 
 close, there was a strange dew upon them, " like wood- 
 land violets newly wet. " Yet lest you, my dear sir 
 or madam, fail to appreciate the pathos of this affect- 
 ing duet, I subjoin the words. Head them, since 
 they are eloquent with a faith more cheering than 
 creed or sermon : 
 
 " Some day, we say, and turn our eyes 
 Toward the fair hills of paradise ; 
 
 Some day, some time, a sweet, new rest 
 Shall blossom, flower-like, in each breast ;
 
 A XYMPH OF THE WEST. 97 
 
 Some time, some day, our eyes shall see 
 The faces kept in memory ; 
 
 Some day, their hands shall clasp our hands. 
 Just over in the morning lands. 
 
 Some day, our ears shall hear the song 
 Of triumph over sin and wrong ; 
 
 Some day, some time, but oh ! not yet, 
 But we will wait and not forget 
 
 That, some day, all these things shall be, 
 And rest be given to you and me. 
 
 So wait, my heart, though years move slow, 
 The happy time will come, we know." 
 
 I am afraid, however, that what most appealed to 
 our little Cynthia, and caused the singular dew above 
 alluded to, was a certain energy of conviction about 
 the singing of the musical couple, and an apparent 
 belief in an earthly "rest," and a " happy time," that 
 would attend both, albeit their impatient hearts found 
 the years "moving slow." I am not positive, of 
 course, but it would seem that the circumstantial evi- 
 dence pointed to that conclusion. I can only say 
 that, when the sweet ballad ceased and the little con- 
 cert was at an end, she was oppressed by a sudden 
 sense of loneliness and left the banquet quite abruptly. 
 She hurried away to her bower, there to confide her 
 disquietude to the circumambient pines. What view 
 was taken of her agitation by these ascetic mourners 
 of the wood I can not say. I only know that, after 
 Cynthia had relieved her overburdened feelings in a 
 shower of passionate tears, they were as ignorant of 
 the cause of this sudden melancholv as their protegee. 
 7
 
 98 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Why was she weeping, pray ? She was not in 
 love with this fascinating Mr. Bruce she, Cynthia 
 Dallas, who knew nothing in nature altogether admi- 
 rable, save her antelope-fawn, no loyal heart, except 
 the dignified and magnanimous "Aulus." Where- 
 fore, this gratuitous thunder-storm ? 
 
 Nevertheless, it was with a feminine conviction 
 that the faultless Miss Edith Stafford had taken her 
 at a very unfair disadvantage, and wounded her in a 
 very sensitive spot by singing so bewitchingly with 
 Henry Bruce, that this Lone Star logician dried her 
 eyes. Had she sung badly, or been guilty of the 
 slightest discord, she could have overlooked it. But, 
 under the circumstances, it was altogether unpardon- 
 able. She had been tricked and cajoled ! To be sure 
 she entirely overlooked in her sophistry, the fact that 
 Miss Stafford had known Henry Bruce long before 
 she had been favored with his acquaintance, but she 
 would have dismissed this reflection as irrelevant had 
 it occurred to her. And I think that, through it all, 
 a vivid recollection of the air of ownership with 
 which that lady had laid her gloved hand upon the 
 gentleman's shoulder, when she had surprised them 
 together a few hours since, still rankled in her mem- 
 ory. What right, pray, had she to treat him as if he 
 were some fine-wooled sheep, marked with her "road- 
 brand," and to be claimed as an estray ? 
 
 She had lashed herself into a tempest of indigna- 
 tion over this last thought, when she was startled by 
 some one quickly entering the bower. It was Henry 
 Bruce. Cynthia looked up at his strong, athletic 
 figure, and his kindly eyes, beaming down upon her 
 with a certain caressing glance quite inseparable from
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 99 
 
 his look when interested a characteristic, by-the-way, 
 that was very misleading, and had brought misery 
 to many a confiding feminine heart and it seemed 
 to her he had never appeared so handsome before. 
 Possibly jealousy had made her put on her spec- 
 tacles. 
 
 " Why are you moping here, all alone by yourself, 
 Cynthia ? " he demanded, as if he were reproving 
 some wayward child. " Don't you know we are 
 almost ready to go ? The ladies are looking for you 
 everywhere." 
 
 " I don't care," the girl replied, with charming 
 indifference, turning away and hiding her face in the 
 rough coat of the antelope, which had gone calmly to 
 sleep during his mistress's recent emotion. 
 
 "Why, what is the meaning of this ?" inquired 
 the young man, throwing himself on the ground be- 
 side her and taking one of her hands gently in his. 
 It was snatched rudely away and buried in the fur of 
 the antelope, but soon reappeared again, with an inde- 
 cision of movement and lack of repose, that seemed to 
 say eloquently, "Detain me, if you please !" Bruce 
 was swift in his deductions. He took pity on the flut- 
 tering waif. This time it rested confidingly in both 
 his own. But the face buried in the fur of the ante- 
 lope was very restless, as if endeavoring to bore its 
 way into the fawn's innermost emotions, and, after 
 some moments of this distressing conduct, Cynthia's 
 loosely gathered tresses took compassion on their owner 
 also. Her hair came down and wept in golden rain 
 upon her shoulders. Her agitation now suffered an 
 effectual eclipse. 
 
 After an interval of what might have been termed
 
 100 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 silent communion, during which Mr. Bruce stroked 
 fondly the little fingers within his own, the gentle- 
 man hazarded a remark which his knowledge of the 
 facts hardly justified. 
 
 "Are you so sorry I am going away, Cynthia ?" 
 he asked, apparently addressing the tumbled mass of 
 golden hair. 
 
 The disheveled locks were suddenly agitated by a 
 tumultuous movement that was barely intelligible. 
 Evidently their owner was nodding an assent. 
 
 "Why?" inquired Bruce, ceasing to caress the 
 hand. 
 
 A long pause. Finally, the usual reply came ap- 
 parently from an inaccessible depth, and accompanied 
 by a long-drawn sigh. 
 
 "Because." 
 
 Bruce smiled to himself whether from gratifica- 
 tion or in irony of the feminine reason, did not tran- 
 spire. The gentleman, not venturing upon any fur- 
 ther inquiry, nor hazarding any additional endear- 
 ments, the young girl suddenly sat up. 
 
 "Do you mean it ?" she said, regarding him wist- 
 fully through the mist of her tangled tresses that 
 streamed in her eyes. 
 
 "Mean what ?" 
 
 " That you are really going ? " 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " What for ? so as to be with her ? " 
 
 " So as to get home and attend to my business," 
 Bruce replied, avoiding the issue. 
 
 The girl swept her hair out of her eyes with a sud- 
 den impatient movement, and leveled her brows full 
 upon him.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 1Q1 
 
 " Then she hasn't anything to do with it ? " she 
 said, with a look of relief. 
 
 " She will be in the party, of course, but that is 
 not the reason of my departure," he replied, truth- 
 fully enough. 
 
 Cynthia was silent, apparently thinking. 
 
 "You'll come and see me again?" she said, at 
 length. 
 
 " Of course I will if you wish it." 
 
 " I do," she replied, frankly. 
 
 Both were silent. 
 
 "Henry Bruce," Cynthia said, at last, lifting her 
 eyes to him with a pleading earnestness, "there's go- 
 ing to be a ball over at San Marcus one of these days, 
 and I want you to take me will you do it ? " 
 
 "I guess so," the young man replied, indifferent- 
 ly "that is, if nothing happen to prevent. Have 
 you no other escort ? " 
 
 Cynthia scowled. 
 
 " I never saw the time yet I had to go round beg- 
 ging," she replied, tartly. " Captain Foraker, I 
 reckon, is glad enough to get the chance. He's very 
 obliging." 
 
 Bruce overlooked the inference. 
 
 " When is this remarkable affair to come off ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 " About the close of the spring ' round-ups ' some 
 months off yet," she replied, looking at him fixedly, 
 and twisting the antelope's coat in a way that must 
 have been simple torture. 
 
 "Cynthia," said Bruce, leaning toward her and 
 looking into her eyes, "I want you to promise me 
 that you won't let that man take you anywhere. You
 
 102 A XYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 must know, from what your father says, that his com- 
 pany is not creditable to any young woman much 
 less, yourself." 
 
 The girl looked down at the fawn. 
 
 " Say you'll take me, and I will," she stipulated. 
 
 "I have already conditionally," Bruce rejoined. 
 
 "I know that," said Cynthia, "but I don't want 
 any hangin' fire. Are you thinkin' of takin' that dark 
 girl ? " she suddenly inquired. 
 
 "Not at all," Bruce answered; "but business 
 might prevent. I may have to be at ' The Post,' sell- 
 ing my wool ; I might be sick a thousand things 
 might happen. I can not promise." 
 
 "Very well," said Cynthia, rising with decision, 
 but with a disappointed look. "Neither can I. I 
 reckon I hear your sweetheart a-callin' you. P'raps 
 you better be goin'." 
 
 And, calling to "Aulus"and the antelope, she 
 whisked suddenly out of the bower. 
 
 Bruce returned to the ranch with a feeling of dis- 
 comfiture. He had the welfare of Miss Dallas sin- 
 cerely at heart. He had decided to warn her against 
 the attentions of Captain Foraker, of whose indiscrimi- 
 nate and heartless gallantries he had long been aware. 
 But he had met with rebuff, and was naturally cha- 
 grined. 
 
 He found his companions mounted and impatiently 
 awaiting him. Phil Kernochan was holding the 
 bridle-rein of a small sorrel pony, already saddled for 
 the journey. 
 
 Bruce delayed only to shake the horny hand of his 
 host and wave a farewell to the ebony Amelia, who 
 was standing in the doorway of her quarters. Cynthia
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 103 
 
 was nowhere to be seen. Springing into the stirrups 
 of the sorrel, he rode away with the rest, absorbed in 
 his gloomy reflections. 
 
 But a hundred yards from the house, what seemed 
 to him to be the loud chirrup of a ground-squirrel 
 caused him to look up, as he rode far in the rear of 
 the cavalcade. 
 
 They were just passing a pile of rocks on the crest 
 of a western divide. On the topmost pinnacle of this 
 natural elevation he caught a glimpse of Cynthia, 
 seated in her gossamer robes, an arm thrown about 
 each of her inseparable companions. A light breeze 
 stirred the disheveled masses of her golden hair, which 
 she had not yet taken the trouble to rearrange. She 
 smiled down upon him serenely from the inaccessible 
 height. Bruce waved her a parting greeting with his 
 heavy riding quirt. As he did so, he saw her bend 
 forward eagerly, and, with the rosy tips of her little 
 fingers, fling him a dainty kiss.
 
 VII. 
 
 SPRING had crossed the Lone Star border. Al- 
 ready the gentle slopes, that bordered the Mesquite 
 Valley Ranch, were donning an emerald livery, and 
 hiding in their sunny hollows an odorous labyrinth of 
 poly-tinted flowers. The live oaks were throwing 
 down upon the brown earth a cloud of sprays and 
 seed-vessels, coloring their dusky leaves with lighter 
 green, and with a cheerful gayety stepping into the 
 opening quadrille of summer. The mocking-birds, 
 crazy with joy, wantoned from every tree-top, flicker- 
 ing to and fro in their half-mourning plumes, and 
 courting their modest sweethearts with a deliriousness 
 of melody that was very contagious. Even the jack- 
 rabbit, roused from his form by the stumbling way- 
 farer, had less of sarcasm than common in his droll 
 blink, as he limped away. Mirth romped in the val- 
 leys, and laughed on the divides. And domestic life 
 at the Mesquite Valley Ranch took on a livelier in- 
 terest as the season demanded. 
 
 But the plans of that good fellow, Phil Keruochan, 
 had met with disappointment, and he chafed with 
 chagrin, and pulled his blonde mustache in his most 
 approved, nervous manner, as was his habit when 
 business vexed him. He had intended building a 
 large barn and stable that should rival, in the mag-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 1Q5 
 
 nificence of its appointments, the commodious ranch 
 of which he was so justly proud. The cellar had 
 been dug, the timber purchased and carted, the car- 
 penters and assistants hired, when his builder the 
 man to whom he had confided all his pet schemes and 
 projects suddenly died of apoplexy. Kernochan 
 was highly indignant. The misfortune put him out 
 of all patience with the genial and forward season. 
 
 He burst abruptly into the sitting-room, one bright 
 April morning, with an open letter in his hand, quite 
 startling Edith, who was writing at a small escri- 
 toire, and even causing Bruce, who was playing the 
 guitar, to narrowly escape dropping the instrument. 
 
 "AVell, upon my word, Phil !" the latter remon- 
 strated. " What's the matter ? " 
 
 " Matter enough ! " Kernochan rejoined, surlily. 
 " Here's my boss-builder, the man I relied on to put 
 those improvements through, gone and died just when 
 I was about to begin. It's rather rough papers on the 
 head of the house ! " He threw the letter on the floor, 
 thrust both hands into his pockets, and strode away 
 to the window. 
 
 Bruce took a long puff at his cigar before he re- 
 plied, but his hazel eyes twinkled with the humor of 
 the situation. 
 
 " I presume, inasmuch as you had taken the trou- 
 ble to get everything ready for him, you regard it as 
 rather disobliging in him to die not to say unprin- 
 cipled," he replied, with quiet sarcasm. " I say, Phil, 
 I have an idea ! " 
 
 "Keep it !" returned Phil ; "you'll need it be- 
 fore, we get through with this business." 
 
 "I had hoped," said Henry Bruce, with mock
 
 106 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 gravity, " that I had emigrated too far south, at last, 
 for any one to attempt to perpetrate that venerable 
 'chestnut' upon his fellow-man. But I see I am a 
 victim of misplaced confidence. I must have a short 
 canter to escape any disastrous effects. Edith, what 
 do you say to a little trip this morning on horseback ? 
 I lost my meerschaum yesterday, somewhere between 
 here and the lone camp at the 'Soldier's Water-Hole.' 
 I thought I would go out and look it up. 
 
 " The pipe I gave you, do you mean ?" Edith in- 
 quired. "Then, that's the last of it, rest assured. 
 I should be glad enough of the ride, but a more evi- 
 dent wild-goose chase was never attempted. You are 
 not serious, Hal, that you expect to find it ?" 
 
 " Why not, pray ? " Bruce rejoined. " I know the 
 general direction, and, if necessary, can trail my 
 horse's tracks. I have not a doubt I shall find it. It 
 is only a matter of five miles a mere bagatelle. I 
 found five newspapers and a letter I lost once, pony- 
 back, over twice that stretch of country." 
 
 " Well, I do not mind accompanying you, to show 
 you how absurd the effort is, if for no other reason," 
 Miss Stafford replied. " There ! " pounding the 
 stamp on the envelope she had just directed with her 
 dark, jeweled hand. " Wait for me at the gate, and 
 have the horses brought around. I'll be down in a 
 minute." 
 
 It was a bright morning, so clear that the Llano 
 Mountains, on the farther horizon, seemed distant 
 scarcely a stone's-throw. The air was redolent of per- 
 fume and warmth. The scissor-tails, baring their rosy 
 bosoms to the sun, sat upright in the tops of the mes- 
 quites at every turn, surveying the emerald landscape
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 107 
 
 with a dignity and serenity worthy of a much larger 
 bird. At times they ventured upon a slow and la- 
 bored flight, piloting their trailing plumes like some 
 spent arrow too heavily feathered. A few summer 
 duck the harlequin camp-followers of that army of 
 water-fowl that had beset the creeks and pools in the 
 early season whirred away as they approached each 
 prairie water-course. 
 
 Bruce and Edith checked their horses in a grassy 
 valley, opening before them in long vistas of portu- 
 laca and wild verbena and purple "buffalo-clover." 
 A delicious odor rose upon and enveloped them. The 
 feet of their horses seemed to be treading perfume. 
 They were literally swimming in a sea of scents far 
 more delicate than the rarest treasures of Kimmel or 
 Lubin. 
 
 Edith inhaled the sweet air, and drank in the 
 tropical luxuriance of the prospect with a cry of de- 
 light. 
 
 "How beautiful!" she exclaimed. "I declare, 
 Hal, it seems a pity to ride through this natural par- 
 terre." 
 
 "Why so ?" returned Bruce, with a man's indif- 
 ference for the delicate and perishable. " Besides, 
 there are acres and acres, just like this, that we shall 
 never see." 
 
 They sat regarding the prismatic hues of the val- 
 ley, stretching before them in one woven carpet of 
 color. A small, cotton-tail rabbit, that had been 
 eying them from the vantage of a neighboring bush, 
 was taken with a sudden panic and skurried away 
 through the purple billows, leaving the track of his 
 frightened course visible in a tossing wake.
 
 108 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " If you dropped your meerschaum in any such 
 tangle as that, Hal," said Miss Stafford, following the 
 animal by the sudden commotion among the flowers, 
 "we may as well give up the search at once." 
 
 " Granted," replied Bruce, courteously, patting 
 his pony's neck ; " but you see, my dear, I didn't. I 
 merely brought you down this way to show you what 
 Texas could do in the line of landscape-gardening. I 
 doubt if you find its equal anywhere in the East." 
 
 "You are very considerate as well as endearing, 
 this morning," the young lady replied. "Why is it 
 you invariably choose these remote situations to dis- 
 play your affection ? You might, at least, give me the 
 satisfaction of an audience." 
 
 Bruce was silent a few seconds. He did not ap- 
 preciate Miss Stafford's raillery when he dispensed 
 with the conventionalities. 
 
 "It is always your way, Edith," he said, reproach- 
 fully, "to meet all sincerity with skepticism and ca- 
 price. These complimentary speeches, delivered to 
 order, and in the presence of others, have little to 
 recommend them but flattery ; and you are well aware 
 of it." 
 
 " They are none the less agreeable to a woman's 
 vanity," replied the fair equestrienne, turning her 
 horse aside to peer into the nest of a mocking-bird in 
 a dwarf mesquite. 
 
 The courageous thrush flew at her with trailing 
 wings, forcing her to strike at it with her riding-whip. 
 
 " Ah ! Hal," she said, raising a finger at him 
 archly when this little episode was over, " that is a 
 singular organ, that susceptible heart of yours. Quite 
 a remarkable piece of mechanism in its way. "What
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 109 
 
 with your Northern inamoratas and these Texan 
 heroines, it must be pretty well honeycombed by this 
 time." 
 
 Bruce laughed. 
 
 " There are traces of old scars," he said, gravely, 
 as they rode on together, "but it is still intact, my 
 lady." 
 
 "Can you still be sent on errands as formerly ?" 
 she inquired, stopping suddenly. 
 
 Bruce reined up his mustang. 
 
 "On yours always," he said. 
 
 " As gallant as ever, she returned. " I thought for 
 the moment you were addressing Miss Dallas." 
 
 " As sincere" said the young man with emphasis, 
 not noticing the implied satire of her last remark. 
 
 " Well, then," said the careless brunette, the color 
 dyeing her clear, olive complexion as she turned to- 
 ward him, her beautiful face flushed with the exhila- 
 rating exercise, " I dropped my riding- whip, I think, 
 just after my encounter with that bold little bird a 
 few rods back. "Won't you ride back, please, and 
 verify your pretensions to wood-craft ? " 
 
 She pushed one little foot free from the folds of 
 her habit as she said this, and critically regarded the 
 silver spur with which it was adorned. She had a pre- 
 occupied, serious air. 
 
 Bruce glanced at her admiringly as she preferred 
 this modest request. The little, glossy, black beaver 
 had not been put into requisition that morning, there 
 being no likelihood of feminine criticism, and con- 
 sequently no necessity for overawing envious woman- 
 hood with the faultlessness of her get-up. She wore, 
 instead, a velvet turban the product of her own taste
 
 HO A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 and ingenuity surmounted by the extended wings 
 and tail of a blue jay. It was mightily becoming. 
 Miss Stafford knew it. She was also aware that she 
 was never more fascinating than when on horseback. 
 
 This conviction dawned upon Bruce as he caught 
 the graceful curves of her lithe figure, the soft glow 
 of health in her cheek, the languorous light of her 
 dark eyes, and the brown masses of hair but carelessly 
 confined and slipping to her shoulder. He put spurs 
 to his mustang and was soon riding about where they 
 had halted, trampling down the clustering flowers in 
 the vain attempt to secure the missing whip. 
 
 Miss Stafford remained quiet in the saddle without 
 looking back. There was a mischievous smile about 
 her coquettish mouth. Her hands toying with her 
 pony's mane, she became interested in studying the 
 movements of a chaparral-cock that sat shading him- 
 self beneath the filmy veil of a budding mesquite. 
 The monkish bird had evidently returned from early 
 mass, and had not yet recovered from the solemnity 
 of the ceremony. His very piety seemed to oppress 
 him. He turned his grave head from side to side, 
 like a gloomy friar beneath his cowl " each eye a ser- 
 mon and his brow a homily." It was evident that 
 the promise of his youth had been blighted by the 
 vanity of all earthly things. 
 
 The young girl soon wearied of his somber gravity. 
 Then she drew from some extemporized hiding-place 
 the missing whip. She held it critically in her gloved 
 fingers. The ivory handle bore a crest with shield 
 and chevron, and the legend, "Fac et Spera." 
 
 The quick snapping of a twig caused her to look 
 up. She caught her breath with a sudden murmur of
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 delight. Scarcely ten yards away a magnificent buck 
 had halted in the act of crossing her path, startled by 
 the apparition of her mounted presence. 
 
 The beautiful creature stood knee-deep among the 
 flowers as if suddenly turned to stone. His branching 
 antlers had that soft, tender bloom that is almost pain- 
 ful to the spectator, and technically known as " the 
 velvet." His wide-open eyes stared at the intruder, 
 and the delicate, quivering nostrils alone gave evidence 
 of the graceful bounding life sleeping in the delicate 
 limbs. 
 
 For nearly a minute they quietly confronted one 
 another, and a critical observer would have been 
 puzzled to determine in which there was more of 
 beauty the startled, steadfast gaze of this forest para- 
 gon, or the rapt, fascinated expression of the gazelle- 
 eyed girl. Then the tension of the breathless tableau 
 grew annoying. Miss Stafford raised herself in her 
 stirrup, and flung her whip at the breathing statue 
 with the impotence of womanhood. 
 
 The deer started, took a neighboring bush with a 
 leap of exquisite grace, and, a second after, was visi- 
 ble only as a dusky object, flying with the speed of the 
 wind down the many-vistaed valley, and waving a 
 white banner that caricatured the fleetness of its move- 
 ments. 
 
 The animal had scarcely taken its arrowy bound, 
 when a rifle cracked, and a bullet came whistling by 
 the startled Edith, clipping a twig a short distance in 
 front of her. 
 
 She turned in her saddle. Bruce was riding to- 
 ward her, restoring a small carbine to its leathern 
 holster as he rode, a faint blue smoke still streaming
 
 112 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 from the muzzle. There was the spice of gunpowder 
 on the morning air. 
 
 "What on earth did you frighten him for?" he 
 said, petulantly, as he rode forward and dismounted 
 to pick up the fallen whip. " If you had not sent 
 me back on that fool's errand, I should certainly have 
 shot him." 
 
 "You mean to say you would have killed the 
 beautiful thing, you cruel fellow ? " almost screamed 
 Edith, taking tbe restored missile without an apology 
 for her previous duplicity. "I'm glad I did it, 
 then. However, I thought you ought to be reminded, 
 sir, that it was the 1st of April. You are in alto- 
 gether too high feather this morning to be endur- 
 able." 
 
 They turned into a narrow trail between two slop- 
 ing hills. A large pecan motte was visible* at its far- 
 ther end, making the little cafion a veritable cul-de- 
 sac. Suddenly a volley of shots from cracking " six- 
 shooters " startled them from the non-committal quiet 
 that had fallen upon them. A few yards in front of 
 them a drove of piebald hogs charged wildly down the 
 hill, followed by several horsemen fiercely shouting, 
 and shooting into them at every leap of their running 
 mustangs. The coarse bristles of several of the fleeing 
 porkers were laced with blood. 
 
 Edith clasped her hands in dismay, her pony 
 stopping short in his tracks at this sudden apparition 
 of bloodshed. In a few seconds the noisy chase had 
 swept through the canon, the mounted men scarcely 
 noting them in the excitement of the pursuit. 
 
 Bruce reined up his horse with an angry jerk upon 
 the bridle.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. H3 
 
 There is Lem Wickson's lawless gang again !" he 
 exclaimed. " And, as usual, at their old tricks." 
 
 He dashed away a few paces into the underbrush. 
 A large hoar had fallen in the thicket, faint from loss 
 of blood. Weak as it was, the fierce animal raised 
 itself upon its haunches and glared at him with its 
 wicked eyes, gnashing its distorted tusks besmeared 
 with blood and foam. Bruce recognized at once the 
 conspicuous "paint-brand" of Alcides Dallas a large 
 red "A. D." upon the animal's hip. 
 
 He rode back to Edith with a grim look upon his 
 usually frank features. 
 
 "This sort of thing will not do, little woman," 
 he remarked, raising his broad hat and wiping his 
 forehead. 
 
 " Why don't you write them a note and tell them 
 to stop it that you do not like it, at all ? " Edith 
 advised, with a knowledge of frontier etiquette that 
 was ingenuous and charming. 
 
 "How would you word it?" inquired her com- 
 panion, a smile struggling to his lips in spite of his 
 irritation. " Something like this ? * Mr. Henry Bruce 
 presents his compliments to Mr. Lemuel Wickson and 
 his assistants, and regrets to say that he personally 
 objects to their shooting stray hogs on his premises ? ' 
 It strikes me that is precisely what the occasion de- 
 mands some such delicate treatment. Thanks for 
 the suggestion ! " 
 
 "Oh, bother!" replied Miss Stafford, blushing 
 bewitchingly under his irony. 
 
 "I'm afraid, Edith, you do not appreciate the 
 frankness of popular feeling in respect to outrages of 
 this kind. When this return to barbarism is detected 
 
 8
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 upon the frontier, especially if, as in the present case, 
 horse-stealing is united to the misdemeanor, a lariat 
 and a live-oak limb is the usual form of remonstrance." 
 
 "You mean they hang them?" said Edith, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 "I mean that Judge Lynch usually decrees that 
 penalty." 
 
 " How dreadful ! " exclaimed the girl, whipping 
 up her pony smartly and dashing away, as if to escape 
 the recollection. 
 
 " One moment, Edith ! " shouted Bruce, spurring 
 after. " We are about approaching our ren- 
 dezvous." He enunciated his words with difficulty as 
 their horses plunged forward. 
 
 " Pardon me ! " said Miss Stafford, seeing this, 
 and stopping at once. " What have you to say ?" 
 
 " We are near the *' lone camp,' " said Bruce, halting 
 also. "You may possibly get a momentary glimpse 
 of a queer being one of the strangest instances of 
 ill-starred destiny that I have ever met a college- 
 bred man, mature, able-bodied, and withal the best- 
 read and most cultured individual it has ever been 
 my fortune to meet." 
 
 " You astound me ! " said the girl, her eyes wide 
 with amazement. "Such a man as you describe, 
 herding sheep at twenty dollars a month ?" 
 
 " Exactly. A man who quotes Milton with 
 fluency, and who draws upon his memory when he 
 wishes to consult Shakespeare and Byron." 
 
 "Why, tell me about this wonderful shepherd," 
 Edith requested ; " he interests me." 
 
 " There isn't very much more to tell, except that 
 he is something of a hermit, seems'to prefer this sort
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. H5 
 
 of solitary life, and reads, all the while, the oddest 
 books you can imagine. I found him poring over 
 Apuleius the other day. He's a sort of 'Manfred,' 
 with his satanic gloom left out. Now I think of it, 
 didn't it strike you as strange that Cynthia should 
 have named that old hound of hers ' Aulus ' ? I 
 puzzled over it a good deal. I understand, however, 
 that this old fellow gave her that dog when it was 
 only a pup. At any rate, the donor answers to his 
 description. The mystery now is perfectly clear. 
 Don't you remember, in Macaulay, 'Aulus the dicta- 
 tor the man of seventy fights ? ' " 
 
 "Yes, indeed what an excellent name! It 
 haunts you. And I suppose the character of that 
 dignified monster is thoroughly in keeping with his 
 cognomen." 
 
 "Quite, I imagine. Cynthia tells me that she 
 never goes to San Marcus that he does not attack and 
 whip half the dogs in the village." 
 
 They had reached the "lone camp" at last. Its 
 appearance was forlorn enough a small tent, stained 
 and discolored with the weather, its cords relaxed, 
 its open fly fluttering in the wind ; within, a few 
 tumbled blankets and articles of clothing, presided 
 over by a hurricane-lantern tied to the ridge-pole 
 and permeating the interior with its odor of kerosene. 
 The scant cooking-utensils of the solitary were lit- 
 tered about an iron pot containing boiled beans, a 
 skillet, several empty tomato-cans, and a dilapidated 
 frying-pan that had seen better days. These refugees 
 of the kitchen were broiling in the noontide sun. A 
 side of bacon hung from a neighboring tree. But no 
 trace of the occupant of this dreary outpost of civili-
 
 116 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 zation was visible about the ashes of the camp-fire 
 that betrayed his former presence. 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me," said Edith, with an 
 expression of disgust, that a man of such tastes as 
 you describe, passes his days in such a den as this ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Bruce "and without complain- 
 ing. He seems to desire nothing except what will 
 satisfy his bodily wants. I am sorry that he is not 
 about, so that you. might have a glimpse of him. 
 Perhaps we will fall in with him on the way back." 
 
 They rode rapidly away. Half-way down the little 
 cation they passed an odd figure, sitting remote and 
 lonely upon a high rock, and smoking a short clay 
 pipe. He was without a coat, and had thrown about 
 his shoulders a gray blanket, extemporized for a gar- 
 ment. He wore a large slouch hat, somewhat battered 
 and faded by exposure to the weather. His long, un- 
 kempt, gray beard streamed down upon his breast, 
 and his eyes had a wild and frenzied expression. His 
 scant trousers were worn through in places, exposing 
 a substratum of red flannel at the knees, and between 
 the tops of his hobnailed shoes and his retreating 
 breeches was an appalling display of gaunt and re- 
 luctant ankles. One might have been pardoned for 
 imagining that the bare apparition of these monstrosi- 
 ties had struck terror into his nether garments, im- 
 pelling them to beat a hasty retreat up the calves of 
 his legs. 
 
 When they were riding down the cafion again, 
 Bruce asked Miss Stafford what she thought of his 
 literary peripatetic. 
 
 "I hardly know what to say," said she, checking 
 her pony by the side of a small spring that brawled
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. H7 
 
 over its pebbly bed, and dripped its tinkling overflow 
 into a rocky basin. " The idea of a walking encyclo- 
 paedia and dictionary of poetical quotation here in the 
 wilds ! And to think of that creature burning the 
 midnight oil, as he must, to have acquired this knowl- 
 edge, and wasting his sweetness on the desert air in 
 this agonizing fashion it is too dreadful ! I verily 
 believe, from what you tell me, that the man is 
 another Macaulay, and that he might hope to realize 
 his famous boast and reproduce the ' Paradise Lost.' ' 
 
 It was very still. The soft tones of her animated 
 voice had died away. Only the musical clink of the 
 fountain, knocking its silver heels against the rock 
 as it tripped gayly on its way ; while, a solitary mocker, 
 perched upon a filmy mesquite-spray, attempted a 
 liquid measure in rivalry at infrequent intervals. The 
 blue sky bent brightly overhead. 
 
 Somehow a strange ecstatic feeling woke in the 
 heart of the young man as he sat in the saddle, gazing 
 at the bright face before him framed against the soft, 
 green foliage of the budding trees. There was noth- 
 ing in her words to awaken it. Surely Milton and 
 Macaulay are not cup-bearers to Cupid. Yet they 
 lingered aimlessly by the laughing fountain. Anon a 
 bright-winged butterfly it might have been the airy 
 Psyche of the mischievous god himself came floating 
 through the sheltered coolness of the grove upon its 
 listless pinions : 
 
 "Sweet, sweet, sweet god Pan! 
 
 Blinding sweet by the river ! 
 The sun on the hills forgot to die, 
 And the lily revived, and the dragon-fly 
 
 Carae back to dream by the river."
 
 118 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Miss Stafford had drawn off the little kid gauntlet 
 she had worn all the morning, and the small brown 
 hand, "all heavy with its weight of rings," rested 
 lightly on the saddle-pommel. 
 
 " Edith," said Bruce, leaning forward in his sad- 
 dle, and taking the soft fingers in his, " I have long 
 wished to tell you something." 
 
 The "cool, flower-like hand" rested a second in 
 his own burning clasp. It was as suddenly withdrawn 
 with a little triumphant cry. 
 
 "Why, there it is, after all !" she said, pointing 
 to something lying among the moss at their horses' 
 feet. Bruce, thus suddenly recalled to the present 
 and the practical, looked quickly down. The lost 
 meerschaum, with its grinning skull, stared up at him 
 from the ground below. Was ever Love's communion 
 interrupted by discovery so mal a propos I
 
 VIII. 
 
 A TKIO of mounted men rode up to the " Mesquite 
 Valley Ranch." They were dusty and travel-worn, 
 and the horses they bestrode were jaded and flecked 
 with the foam of hard riding. At the ranch-gate they 
 halted, and the central figure of the group a small 
 man with a slouching seat in the saddle removed his 
 distinguishing sombrero, and wiped the perspiration 
 from his high forehead. 
 
 "By the Lord!" he exclaimed, dashing a hard, 
 small hand across his eyes with a quick, impatient 
 gesture, "how the sun glares to-day! Whether it's 
 my bein' up so much nights, or thet Lampasas whisky, 
 I kin skursely see my hand afore my face. Dick, 
 chuck me over thet flask of ' tarantala-juice ' ! " 
 
 Thus commanded, the individual addressed one 
 Mr. Jake Sharp, of choleric memory extracted from 
 his ducking-jacket a large tin pocket-companion, 
 known on the frontier as a "silent comforter," and 
 tossed it to his comrade. He was a big, muscular 
 man of the Herculean type, and he flung the flask 
 from him as if it had been a feather. The other 
 caught it deftly. 
 
 " A-ah ! " ejaculated the first speaker, clearing his 
 throat after throwing his head back and partaking
 
 120 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 freely of its contents, "that stuff takes hold, whether 
 it's damagin' or otherwise. I feel refreshed a'ready. 
 'Humly Jim,' will you irrigate ?" 
 
 The third party, addressed hy this uncompliment- 
 ary title, exhibited the customary frontier alacrity in 
 alcoholic matters, and reached out a hand for the 
 liquid refreshment, more or less disfigured by scars 
 and "tetters." 
 
 He was not a prepossessing object. His long, lank 
 hair fell down upon his coat-collar. His beard was 
 straggling and untrimmed ; and his nose was gone, 
 that is to say, the nostrils were there, but only in 
 the shape of two rifts or fissures in his disfigured face, 
 the bridge of that distinguishing feature having been 
 literally plowed away by a six-shooter bullet in a duel 
 at close quarters. 
 
 Despite the disorder of his dress, due to dust and 
 hard riding, the small stature of the first speaker, his 
 heavy mustache, bald forehead, and nervous manner 
 revealed Sheriff Mosely of Oskaloo. He blew the few 
 remaining drops of spirit from his huge mustachios, 
 and tweaked them fiercely as he dismounted. 
 
 " I reckon we better tie up till the sun gets down 
 a little," he said to his companions. "I ain't very 
 well known here, but if thet chap, Kernochan, is as 
 likely a feller as his pardner, Henry Bruce, we won't 
 get no slouch of a reception. Ye might give ' Smitha- 
 reens' a feed of corn afore ye come in." 
 
 With this considerate suggestion for the welfare 
 of his mare a long-limbed, gaunt, ill-favored roan 
 he unslung his revolvers from his saddle-pommel, and 
 strode away to the porch, buckling on his holster-belt 
 as he went.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 121 
 
 The afternoon sunshine was slumbering on the 
 broad veranda. A pair of Scotch greyhounds raised 
 themselves lazily from the door-stone, and barked at 
 the stranger. The quick rustling of a woman's dress, 
 and a vision of fluttering ribbons and flying braids, as 
 she hurried into the house, indicated that the fair 
 Kate had also been surprised by the arrival. 
 
 "Dog gone it! thet's a woman all over!" ex- 
 claimed the sheriff, halting in his tracks, and patting 
 the heads of the dogs who fawned upon him. No 
 dumb animal could long resist the approaches of Ike, 
 much less anything of the canine type. He possessed 
 the true sportsman's touch, and they detected it at once. 
 
 "Thet's a woman every time!" continued Mr. 
 Mosely, confiding a knowing wink to the posts of the 
 front gallery. " She's prob'ly gone in to slick up. 
 It's no use, tho' ! I've been tryin' to impress it on the 
 female sex, fur the best part of a wearin' life, thet they 
 hain't no power, natchally, over the Sheriff of Oska- 
 loo." 
 
 In spite of the emphatic protest of Mr. Ike Mosely 
 in regard to the invulnerability of his affections, it 
 was quite noticeable that, having mounted the steps, 
 he took the opportunity of surveying his warlike un- 
 dersize in the soft mirror of the ranch-window, and 
 actually passed his short fingers through his scanty 
 locks, as he sank down in the luxurious reclining-chair. 
 A small handkerchief with polka dots one of those 
 delicate trifles that femininity affects was crumpled 
 up in the fur of the great buffalo-robe. Ike took it 
 up carelessly. It was redolent of a delicate perfume, 
 and pleasantly suggested the owner. He raised it 
 reverently to his lips.
 
 122 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " We don't get very much of this biz'ness in our 
 profession," he soliloquized, "but it's humanizin', 
 and makes a man remember who he is." 
 
 He became strangely quiet, and his hard, steel-blue 
 eyes took on a softer look, as the faint odor woke a 
 chord of his memory. What was it about the scent 
 of those orange-blossoms that took him back in the 
 past ? He saw an old plantation-house, and its out- 
 lying fields of corn and cotton. The moon rose softly 
 over the bayou, tipping the low porch with black and 
 silver. Who was that standing in the shadow there, 
 the vines of the trellis drifting in patches over her 
 fair young face ? And who that young fellow, small 
 of stature, but lithe and active, slipping upon the lit- 
 tle hand a circlet of gold beneath the pale moon's 
 glamour ? Ah, yes ! it was all past long ago ! There 
 was a small green mound out by the lagoon, which 
 the " sentinel cypress-tree stands over." And the 
 willows wailed a low dirge by the hurrying stream. 
 It was all gone long ago ! But somehow the rough 
 sheriff, for all his brusquencss, found the sunlight too 
 strong for his eyes again, even upon the shady veranda, 
 and shielded them against it with his heavy hat-brim. 
 
 A step on the porch recalled him. It was Henry 
 Bruce. He came toward him with an outstretched 
 hand and a frank greeting. 
 
 " Well, well, Sheriff Mosely, glad to see you've got 
 over our way at last," he said, cordially, with a hearty 
 hand-shake. " Which way this time ? " 
 
 " On the way hum, now," Mosely rejoined, return- 
 ing the grip with sinews of steel. " Badly done up, 
 too, and gen'rally knocked out by the experience of 
 the last three weeks. Me and my two depyties hev
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 123 
 
 been down on the stage-road, layin' fur road-agints day 
 and night. We had a brush with 'em night afore last, 
 and done pretty well, but Humly Jim got a bullet 
 through his hand, and Jake Sharp lost a finger. I 
 ain't been in a bed fur a dog's age." 
 
 " Any one killed ? " inquired Bruce, knowing the 
 sheriff's delicate habit of avoiding the fatal details in 
 these midnight encounters. 
 
 " Lessee ? " said Mr. Mosely, putting his head on 
 one side, closing his eyes, and apparently indulging 
 in a sincere effort of memory. " I disremember ex- 
 actly whether it was three or five of them fellers passed 
 in his chips. I got two, I know, with thet new self- 
 cockin' Colt's, ole man Dallas give me. Geewhittaker ! 
 but thet are a pretty boy to shoot, natchally ; beats 
 the ole fashion of film' the tumbler all to death. 
 Humly Jim called one chap in with his Winchester 
 the best line-runnin' shot I ever see ; by good luck it 
 was the one who winged him. And Jake How 
 many did you git, Jake?" he inquired, as the two 
 deputies lounged slowly up the steps of the porch, and 
 perched on the low railing. 
 
 "None," said Jake, sullenly, "not a mother's son 
 ez I knows on ; my hand was bleedin' so like all pos- 
 sessed thet I hedn't any use fur a six-shooter." 
 
 He exhibited the stump of his finger, bandaged in 
 a bloody rag. It was now apparent that Humly Jim 
 had also suffered in the night encounter. His left 
 arm was worn in a sling. 
 
 "Ef this yer foolishness continners," remarked 
 Mr. Mosely in a disgusted tone, surveying his wounded 
 subordinates, " the gals in this country will hev to put 
 on their spectacles to find a sound, able-bodied man
 
 124 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 into it. They ain't a fightin'-man in Oskaloo thet's 
 got the average allowance of fingers and toes. Some's 
 without ears, and they's a few" chuckling softly to 
 himself "ez is losin' their hair, but the majority o' 
 them are married." 
 
 As the sheriff concluded, he gravely uncovered his 
 scanty locks, and rubbed his bald pate with his red 
 bandana. 
 
 "N-n-nobody can a-allow thet a gal relieved you 
 o' y-y-yourn," stammered Humly Jim, with a spasm 
 of merriment as malevolent as the laugh of a hyena. 
 
 "Not much!" said the sheriff, shortly. "They 
 was a gal once who was a little soft on me, and she 
 said to me, * Oh, how I wish I hed your hair ! ' I 
 hed more of the article then than I have now," Mr. 
 Mosely remarked, apologetically. "She said tliet 
 from a spirit o' gush, I reckon, but meanin' it, all the 
 same, ye know ; howsomever, I didn't cotton. I sus- 
 picioned thet gal to hev designs on my futur' state, 
 and reckoned I'd give her a hint thet I was onto it. 
 'Sal,' sez I, 'ye kant hev my scalp nohow, much as 
 ye admire it.' She never hed much to say to me arter 
 thet." 
 
 "To change the subject somewhat, gentlemen, 
 from the fair sex to more vital interests," put in 
 Henry Bruce, "I fear your labors are not yet over. 
 I surprised Lem Wickson and his gang, this morning, 
 engaged in their old pastime of hog-hunting on my 
 range. The hogs, they were shooting, belonged to Al- 
 cides Dallas, and had his 'road-brand.' They were 
 over by the 'Soldier's Water-Hole,' on the 'Twin Di- 
 vides.'" 
 
 " Ye don't say ! " said Mr. Mosely, rising upon his
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 125 
 
 elbow excitedly, as he received this intelligence. "Is 
 it possible them fellers are in thet biz'ness yet ? They 
 must be hankeriu' fur a term in jail at the ' Post,' and 
 Lem, I reckon, is lookin' forward to bein' the princi- 
 pal figure in one o' them 'necktie matinees' thet I've 
 presided at more frequent lately than I hev any use 
 fur. Leastwise thet's wot he'll hev to attend ef he 
 keeps on with this hoss-stealin.'" 
 
 "I'm too tuckered out jest now," continued Ike, 
 sinking back in his chair with an air of fatigue, "and 
 my possy is too badly used up to push things right 
 away. I'll hev to enter a ' nolly prosequy' fur the 
 present. But, howsomever," said he, rising up again 
 excitedly, and laying a significant hand on his re- 
 volver, "I'll run thet Lem Wickson down afore I'm 
 a month older, or my name's not Mosely. Thet man 
 is gettin' on the inside track of my moral principles 
 by his impudence, and thet's suthin' I won't allow 
 no one to do. Besides, I owe thet much to 'All- 
 sides' himself." 
 
 Sheriff Mosely's righteous outburst of indignation 
 was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and voices 
 as Mrs. Kernochau and Miss Stafford came out upon 
 the veranda. The usual courtesies were exchanged, 
 the bluff sheriff exhibiting an off-hand gallantry in 
 meeting the ladies, which invariably surprised those 
 who knew the man and the rough duties of his call- 
 ing. Far different was the bearing of the deputies, 
 Jake Sharp and Humly Jim, who were instantly sur- 
 prised into that uncouthness which overtakes the un- 
 cultured male animal in the presence of beauty and 
 refinement. They descended abruptly from their 
 perches, executed the customary awkward salutation,
 
 126 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 and then, climbing back upon the railing from sheer 
 embarrassment, were overcome by a painful silence 
 and a conviction of being all hands and feet. 
 
 "You were speaking of Alcides Dallas, Mr. Mose- 
 ly," Mrs. Kernochan remarked, sitting down in one 
 of the large, old-fashioned rockers. "How is that 
 queer old man and his quaint little daughter ? Does 
 he entertain visitors as much as ever with his bewilder- 
 ing music upon the violin ?" 
 
 " Having just returned from a professional visit 
 down in the lower country, I can't really say just how 
 they are gettin' on over by the Colorado," replied the 
 sheriff, with a humorous twinkle of his blue eye, that 
 showed he appreciated the lady's comment, "but I 
 suppose the usual overtures to ' Courtship ' and ' Matri- 
 mony ' are still in order. By-the-way, are you ladies 
 aware that there is to be a ball given at San Marcus 
 immediately after the ' spring round-ups '? It can't 
 be more than a fortnight away, and such another op- 
 portunity for a stranger in the Lone Star to witness 
 the gayeties of the season is not often afforded. You 
 must ask Mr. Bruce to escort you," turning to Miss 
 Stafford. 
 
 "A ball!" exclaimed the fair Edith, who had 
 been leaning against a pillar of the veranda, list- 
 ening listlessly to the previous conversation, "a 
 genuine frontier merry-making, such as I have heard 
 so much about ? That is delightful ! I must 
 see it by all means! You will take me, Hal, of 
 course ? " 
 
 "I suppose so," replied Bruce, in rather a hesitating 
 tone, on being thus directly appealed to. "I hope 
 you won't think me rude, Edith, but the fact is I
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 127 
 
 have already part-way committed myself in regard to 
 that affair." 
 
 "And to whom, pray?" inquired Edith, raising 
 her pretty brows in the completeness of her surprise. 
 "What siren has anticipated me in this request, I 
 should like to know ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's a little favor Miss Dallas requested dur- 
 ing my visit there," Bruce responded, carelessly 
 enough. "'I'm sorry these engagements conflict, 
 however. What do you think I'd better do about 
 it?" 
 
 "Do about it?" returned Miss Stafford, with a 
 proud toss of her head. "Why, you'll take me, of 
 course. You'll write Miss Dallas a note I'll write 
 it for you if it's too much bother in which you'll say 
 that your first duty is with your guest, and that she 
 won't release you under any circumstances. / won't ! 
 I think that disposes of the matter very satisfactori- 
 ly," she concluded, with a certain triumphant smile 
 of superiority, which would have charmed the absent 
 Cynthia, had she been privileged to witness it. 
 
 "I'm. afraid Cynthia will regard that as coming 
 with a very ill grace from me," Bruce rejoined, as if 
 thinking aloud. "However, there is considerable 
 force in what you say. By-the-way, sheriff," he said, 
 suddenly, as Mr. Mosely rose with a quick glance at 
 the sun, as if about to take his departure, "do you 
 happen to be going in the direction of the ' Dallas 
 Eanch'?" 
 
 "Well, I do happen to be ridin' that way," Mose- 
 ly replied. " I was about to say, ladies, that I regret 
 professional duties will prevent my offering my per- 
 sonal services in the present emergency." The sheriff
 
 128 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 belonged to that recognized class of individuals whose 
 vocabulary improves with their surroundings. " But 
 that being, unfortunately, out of the question, Mr. 
 Bruce, if I can take any message to Miss Cynthia, or 
 do you any other favor, I'm here to do it ! " 
 
 "No message is necessary thanks!" Bruce re- 
 joined in rather an emphatic tone ; " and I feel a 
 natural reluctance about making the request I do. 
 The fact is, I think a guitar would be such an im- 
 provement upon that poor, weather-beaten banjo. Miss 
 Dallas possesses, that I should like to send her my 
 own. I think, with her knowledge of the banjo, she 
 will readily learn to play upon it. But it's an awk- 
 ward thing to carry in the saddle, sheriff." 
 
 " Bless your soul, man, don't let that worry you !" 
 exclaimed Mr. Mosely ; " ef there's a strap or band 
 about it, I'll pack it as easily as if it were a grip-sack. 
 Let's have it at once ! " 
 
 Thus urged, Bruce stepped quickly into the house, 
 returning with the instrument enveloped in a green- 
 baize case. 
 
 " They'll take me for a traveling minstrel show, 
 this time, sure enough," laughed Ike, passing the at- 
 tached ribbon deftly over his shoulder. 
 
 "Bather a dangerous one to interfere with, 
 though," commented Mrs. Kernochan, with a gesture 
 indicative of his revolvers, contrasting strangely with 
 the suggestion of the troubadour at his back. 
 
 "They don't tally very well together, thet's a 
 fact!" said Ike, glancing down, "but I'm equally 
 prepared now, you see, for peace or war. Well, good- 
 by, ladies ; I must be off. It's a long ride yet to Os- 
 kaloo. Come, boys ! " and, baring his bald brows in
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 129 
 
 a sweeping salutation, the sheriff was off to the gate 
 with his quick, nervous stride. 
 
 Jake Sharp and Humly Jim dropped down from 
 the railing of the veranda, like a pair of rusty-coated 
 crows which had been spending the interval in quiet 
 and gloomy communion upon some convenient fence. 
 With bows, that were phenomenal for their awkward 
 originality, they slouched away after their chief. 
 
 There was a leisurely adjusting of girth and stir- 
 rup at the rancho-gate, a hurried scramble into the 
 saddle, and an abrupt departure. " Smithareens," 
 developing some eccentricity possibly owing to the 
 strange burden her rider bore called for a display 
 of horsemanship on the part of the sheriff, which was 
 promptly responded to with whip and spur. This 
 incident awoke the latent humor and merriment of 
 the two deputies. At last, with loud laughter, a clat- 
 ter of hoofs, and an accompanying cloud of dust, the 
 cavalcade got fairly under way. In a few moments 
 their mounted figures were scarcely discernible amid 
 the lengthening shadows of the valley.
 
 IX. 
 
 THE gracious spring-time lingered lovingly in the 
 valley of the Colorado. Nowhere had its advent been 
 more welcome, nowhere more apparent its transform- 
 ing changes. Amid weeks of brilliant sunlight, and 
 odorous breezes, and the tuneful improvising of mat- 
 ing mocking-birds, the glad days came and went. 
 From twilight to twilight the sun smiled benignly 
 down from out the cloudless blue, and the earth, 
 tropical with flowers and verdure, accepted gratefully 
 his benediction. It was early in May. The year's 
 resurrection was complete. The prairie-dogs bestirred 
 themselves merrily about their noisy housekeeping, 
 and chid the jocund season with their shrill clamor. 
 And even the dismal violin-playing of the elder Dallas 
 seemed to thrill at times with accents of joy. 
 
 The old man passed much of his time now in the 
 open air, attired in that easy neglige, which became 
 absolutely reckless as the season advanced. Coats and 
 vests were cheerfully discarded, and even hats and 
 boots. Neck-cloth and shirt-collar would have been 
 renounced quite as willingly, had not these restraints 
 of civilization always been abandoned as superflu- 
 ous. The elder Dallas was apparently affected in 
 warm weather by an impulse, similar to that which
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 prompts the serpent to cast his skin. It had even 
 been remarked by the editor of the " Oskaloo Cri- 
 terion " a local satirist, who spent a week in recruit- 
 ing from his journalistic labors at the " Dallas Ranch " 
 that he "hadn't any use for a weather-indicator 
 when ' All-sides ' was in his neighborhood." He al- 
 ways " knew what kind of a day to expect from the 
 alarming frankness of his costume at breakfast." 
 This gentleman undoubtedly accepted the eccentricity 
 of the old man's toilet in the light of a recording 
 thermometer. 
 
 But, amid all the vagaries of Alcides's daily dress, 
 his passion for his gloomy instrument was predomi- 
 nant. It was the inseparable companion of his walks 
 and strolls the sharer of his inactivity and revery. 
 He would sit for hours beneath some dark live-oak, 
 smiting the discords of his protesting fiddle, causing 
 the sedate "Aulus" to lift eye and voice to heaven in 
 piteous protest, and paralyzing the listening mocking- 
 birds with the horror of his improvising. In divine 
 despair they appeared to accept the impossibility of 
 reproducing his achievements, and wondered and were 
 still. 
 
 It was in his wanderings over his grassy range, 
 however, that his musical efforts were most remarka- 
 ble. While inspecting some of his sleek-skinned cat- 
 tle, grazing in a fertile hollow, the impulse to perform 
 would come upon him, and, sitting down upon a 
 neighboring marmot-burrow, he would attempt some 
 discordant inspiration, at which the prairie-dogs stood 
 aghast, and the cattle bellowed their indignation ; con- 
 cluding which, he would return to the ranch with an 
 air of satisfaction worthy of a better cause. The crit-
 
 132 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 ical observer might have argued from this musical 
 formality, a possible prelude to some approaching cere- 
 mony incident to the season ; but, since the elder 
 Dallas, as often as otherwise, went upon these pil- 
 grimages barefooted, it is possible the dismal concert 
 had its uses, for the considerate rattlesnakes respected 
 and spared this eccentric serpent-charmer. 
 
 But one day, as if in answer to the old man's in- 
 vocation, the " Dallas Range " awoke to life and ani- 
 mation. Troops of cattle thundered through the 
 little valley, driven on by bands of horsemen, and 
 converging upon a large pen at its upper end. The 
 air was full of the cries of lowing kine, the bleating 
 of calves, and the shouts of pursuing cow-boys. The 
 plain was picturesque with the evolutions of the out- 
 riders, goading the terror-stricken bands, and throw- 
 ing the unerring lasso. The advance-guard of the 
 " spring round-ups" had reached the dwelling of the 
 elder Dallas. The business of branding calves and 
 " cutting out" the various owners' property had be- 
 gun. In haste the aged cattle-owner discarded his 
 fiddle, resumed his knee-boots, and, mounting his 
 sturdy cow-pony, joined the boisterous cavalcade. 
 
 But the days passed drearily for Cynthia. She 
 took no interest in the varied features of the round- 
 up. The bursts of speed between the rival horsemen, 
 the exciting chase of some refractory steer, the skill- 
 ful cast of the sinuous lariat, the shock and triumph 
 of each sharp encounter scenes familiar to her, in- 
 deed, and in which she herself, mounted upon her 
 fleet little cow-pony, had often formed a conspicuous 
 figure, compelling the admiration of these centaurs 
 of the rein these she witnessed with a listless eye or
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 133 
 
 did not regard at all. And, if the exciting chase in- 
 terested her not, certainly still less the more prosaic 
 details of throwing and branding the unfortunate 
 calves, the cries of the tortured cattle, and the enu- 
 merating of the year's increase. 
 
 In all of these interesting particulars the elder 
 Dallas manifested a keen delight, exhibiting a skill in 
 horsemanship that those who were familiar with his 
 usual rheumatic mode of progression could scarcely 
 credit. He brought home with him to dinner, at odd 
 times, certain of the "likeliest" of his companions 
 large-limbed, deep-chested sons of the saddle intro- 
 ducing them to his charming daughter with a paternal 
 nourish and hopeful manner that gave place to a 
 mystified wonder, when he noted the apathy of Cyn- 
 thia's greeting. He had anticipated no small degree 
 of gratitude for the opportunity thus afforded of dis- 
 playing her fascinations, and had congratulated him- 
 self in advance upon the havoc she would accomplish 
 in a community where the very scarcity of the fair sex 
 makes their advances irresistible. 
 
 But all these air-castles of the elder Dallas were 
 doomed to speedy overthrow. To one and all Cynthia 
 preserved a consistent attitude of calm indifference. 
 The meal progressed in grave silence ; the infrequent 
 conversation had no lighter topic than the incidents of 
 the round-up ; and when, at its close, the admiring 
 Alcides suggested 
 
 "Ye might bring out yer banjo and shake it up 
 for the boys a little ; show 'em jes' natch'ally what a 
 stunner ye are at pickin' it" this accomplished per- 
 former replied with an excuse, or instantly escaped to 
 the seclusion of her own little room. Whereupon the
 
 134: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 embarrassed cow-men were compelled to endure an 
 onslaught upon the violin that should have caused 
 the embowering live-oaks to rise and mutiny. 
 
 But Cynthia went her way, and followed the dic- 
 tates of her singular humor. " Aulus " and the fawn 
 usually accompanied her in these lonely wanderings. 
 Sometimes her listless footsteps sought the piny 
 shelter of her bower, where, swinging in her little 
 hammock, she passed long hours, steeped in the aro- 
 matic odors of the woods, watching the soft play of 
 sunlight in the boughs above, her fancy captive and 
 her thoughts adream. What secret she whispered in 
 the ear of the sagacious hound that lay at her feet, 
 meanwhile, his devoted eyes fixed ever upon her face ; 
 what thoughts of hers may have been detected by the 
 antelope that drowsed away the long hours thus con- 
 secrated to her woodland reveries, have never been 
 divulged by these most worthy confidantes. And if 
 the grave pines, that bent so reverently about their 
 little devotee, divined aught of her disquietude, they 
 only grew the graver for the knowledge, and dropped 
 a cone now and then in their still depths a wood- 
 land tear of sympathy. And at such moments the 
 river far below lifted a soft consolatory murmur that 
 stole soothingly upon her silent musing. 
 
 For, I fear, our little Cynthia was but learning the 
 story which, if we are to believe the poets, the vast 
 panorama of Nature has been telling "since first the 
 flight of years began." A sudden loneliness had come 
 upon her in the midst of her pastimes and occupa- 
 tions. A strange voice whispered in her heart. The 
 things which satisfied once had lost their charm some- 
 how ; the tones of her banjo were harsh and discord-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 135 
 
 ant ; the fawn had less of grace ; even her beloved 
 "Aulus" was often stupid and unsatisfying. 
 
 At times the preoccupied Miss Dallas turned her 
 footsteps in quite another direction. She developed 
 a fascination for a certain ledge of rocks upon the 
 crest of a western divide. It was a bare, uninterest- 
 ing spot, without shade or shelter, and, but for the 
 prospect it afforded of the valley on either side, a poor 
 place certainly to pass one's time. Yet Cynthia was 
 much given to haunting this locality. A superficial 
 observer might have surmised that she sought this 
 lofty post of observation, the more closely to note the 
 varied manoauvres of the round-up in the plain below ; 
 but, unfortunately for this theory, the back of the fair 
 observer was invariably turned upon this animated 
 spectacle. Who shall say what disappointments were 
 hers, thus occupied in spying out the land ! Who 
 shall say how many times this self-appointed Sister 
 Anne beheld the cloud of dust upon the distant hori- 
 zon disclose, not the expected horsemen, but the in- 
 variable flock of sheep ! Or, how many times some 
 roving mustang raised a tumultuous flutter in that 
 little breast, that not a whole caballada of his wild- 
 eyed comrades could have caused by the maddest of 
 their onsets ! Yet even in this hopeless reconnoitring 
 the days sped on and on, and the anticipated horse- 
 man never came. 
 
 I must not omit to mention a certain formality in 
 dress which Miss Dallas began to affect about this 
 time. It was in the direction of long trains and trail- 
 ing habits. There was much mysterious rehearsal in 
 the seclusion of her little room, a disposition to gather 
 her skirts in one gloved hand and tiptoe about, avoid-.
 
 136 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 ing intermediate objects with an acquired daintiness 
 and grace. There were certain fastidious airs of 
 manner which were deftly caught and quite as faith- 
 fully rehearsed in private. During these ceremonies 
 a small riding-whip, formerly presented to Cynthia 
 by Mr. Buck Jerrold, was generally carried lightly in 
 the right hand. A swift canter over the adjacent 
 hills, attended by the same scrutiny of the remote 
 horizon, invariably followed this painstaking perform- 
 ance. 
 
 Such mysterious behavior was not without provok- 
 ing the comment of other members of the household. 
 
 " I should reckon yo' was practicin' fo' the tight- 
 rope, wi' all yo' airs and graces, Mis' Cynthy," the 
 ebony Amelia remonstrated. 
 
 " Is there any private theatricals goin' to come off 
 down at San Marcus ? " inquired the mystified Al- 
 cides, having through the open door caught a glimpse 
 of his daughter attitudinizing. "I didn't know, 
 from thet thar high-steppin', but you war posin' fur 
 the stony-hearted princess thet refuses the poor but 
 deservin' young man in the play." 
 
 To all this ingenious badinage Miss Dallas pre- 
 served an attitude of disdainful reticence. But she 
 was manifestly unhappy and ill at ease. That joyous, 
 light-hearted gayety which once possessed her had 
 taken wings. She sang no more, where once her glad 
 voice challenged the mocking-bird. She was as ca- 
 pricious as an April day. Peevish and fretful with 
 her father for the most part, there were intervals of 
 sudden tenderness, when she overwhelmed him with 
 kisses and caresses. Possibly, at such moments, a 
 certain absent individual was ever present to her fancy,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 13 f 
 
 whose name she never suffered to pass her lips. Phi- 
 losophers aver that, in matters of the heart, there is 
 a species of cold comfort in thus lavishing the affec- 
 tions by proxy. 
 
 During this unsatisfactory period Cynthia's treat- 
 ment of Mr. Buck Jerrold was most remarkable. This 
 gentleman had been wont to visit her often, to pass 
 hours in her society, to sit quietly by her side, silent 
 and thoughtful, smoking his pipe, and noting her 
 every word or action with a reverence and admiration 
 that was little short of worship. Formerly Miss Dal- 
 las had permitted this oppressive homage as if hers 
 by a species of divine right ; had laughed and chatted 
 with him pleasantly, accepted his little gifts and keep- 
 sakes gratefully, sent him upon her errands with the 
 air of conferring a favor, and exerted her many fas- 
 cinations in a way known only to the sex. 
 
 All this had been most agreeable to Jerrold. With 
 evident satisfaction he basked in the sunshine of her 
 favor. But a change came suddenly about. With 
 the advent of the spring round-ups came more fre- 
 quent visits on the part of that gentleman, and a 
 strange waywardness in Cynthia's reception. She 
 greeted him with marked embarrassment and restraint. 
 The former silence of his manner was now eclipsed 
 by her own taciturnity. Jerrold was often astound- 
 ed at his eloquence in his efforts to entertain 
 her, but Cynthia was at all times absent and dis- 
 traught, and appeared to be haunted by a nervous 
 dread that Mr. Jerrold was about to say something 
 which it would give her great pain to hear. Upon 
 the slightest pretext she would escape him, and bury 
 herself amid the solitudes of the sympathetic pines.
 
 138 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Here that strange trouble which made her heart ache 
 would occasionally overflow her eyes, and there were 
 tears shed in the dim woods as little bidden as under- 
 stood tears which the pines bemoaned and the blue- 
 birds and squirrels held sacred, but which somehow 
 brought the balm of relief to her who shed them. 
 
 I do not think, through it all, that Miss Dallas 
 was really conscious of being in love ; only in a gen- 
 eral way that she was bereaved and disappointed. The 
 occurrences of the past few months had come to her 
 in the light of a revelation. She was suddenly aware 
 of the existence of some one who possessed for her a 
 peculiar sympathy, whose words awoke a responsive 
 echo in her heart some one immeasurably superior 
 to the rough men she usually encountered. She could 
 not explain the strange claim this hitherto unrealized 
 nature had upon her ; she only knew that it existed ; 
 that she longed for its influence ; that she grieved 
 when it was denied. And there was associated with 
 this feeling, as there always is, one of pique and in- 
 jury for the apparent neglect which she had suffered. 
 
 How much this state of mind was alleviated when 
 the obliging sheriff put into her hands the guitar sent 
 by Henry Bruce it is impossible to say. Certain it is 
 that never instrument was the recipient of more ten- 
 der treatment. She adorned it with ribbons, carried 
 it about with her constantly, and practiced assiduously 
 upon it. About this time the elder Dallas, recogniz- 
 ing a formidable rival, abandoned his own exertions 
 upon the violin. He viewed the advent of the guitar 
 with suspicion, and commented upon it with cyni- 
 cism. Apparently he recognized, in the soft harmonies 
 Cynthia's deft fingers struck from the strings, a dan-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 139 
 
 gerous ally to sentiment. Alcides, as we have seen, 
 was a foe to romance. 
 
 " Ye wanter look out, Cynthy, fur the poetry and 
 nonsense thet thar tarnal thing '11 fill you chuck full 
 of, ef ye once turn it loose on yer onguarded feclin's," 
 he said, gravely, surprising her once playing upon it 
 with eyes that were wistful and far away. "It's a 
 destroyer of the appetite, and gener'ly plumb full 
 o' onsatisfactoriness," bestowing a glance upon the 
 glistening strings that was full of foreboding. "I 
 knew a girl once thet was thet led away by one 
 of them jinglin' critters thet she didn't do nothin' 
 else but play an' lie 'round, a-longin' and a-yearnin', 
 until by-and-by the sallow-faced critter got herself 
 clean bewitched. Her family and friends could do 
 nothin' with her ; she wouldn't eat nothin' ; and fiii'ly 
 she went into a gallopin' consumption, and they buried 
 her one very damp day in the arly spring." 
 
 But, in spite of this terrible example of the fas- 
 cination of guitar-playing, Cynthia still persisted in 
 her practicing. She endured with cheerfulness the 
 sore fingers, tired wrists, and other annoyances which 
 this exacting instrument imposes upon its devotees. 
 And she received no end of encouragement in other 
 ways. The mocking-birds which fled aghast from the 
 shrieking violin sometimes favored her with imitative 
 outbursts that sincerest form of flattery. Perched 
 on some tossing spray, or flickering here and there in 
 their odd "half-mourning," they reproduced snatches 
 of her waltzes and fandangos. There was a certain 
 sentimental lizard with a speculative eye that would 
 bask daily upon a sunny rock, and from his rapt de- 
 meanor during her performance, was apparently en-
 
 140 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 abled to obtain glimpses of the infinite, hitherto 
 denied. And " Aulus " sympathized, and without re- 
 monstrance lent his quiet and dignified approval. 
 And the fawn was soothed into that dreamy languor 
 that was fast becoming habitual. 
 
 So the days passed ; and Cynthia's heart found 
 much of consolation, and Mr. Buck Jerrold wondered 
 at the change in his dulcinea, and had long confer- 
 ences with the mystified Alcides, who was annoyed 
 and fretful, and made mysterious reference to the 
 prevalence of malaria and the existence of "dumb 
 ager " the inference being that his lovely daughter 
 was suffering from the maladies of a forward spring. 
 Until one day Mr. Jerrold surprised the old man with 
 this query : 
 
 " Ye don't reckon, then, thet the visit of thet thar 
 Henry Bruce hez hed anythin' to do with this yer 
 change ? It's my opinion thet's what's done it." 
 
 " Why, he wa' n't here more'n two days at the 
 furthest," remonstrated the father, staring at his ques- 
 tioner. 
 
 " Thet's all right," returned Jerrold, meditatively, 
 "but it don't take any great length of time with the 
 proper person. I've been told thar's been cases where 
 it was only a word or a look thet done the biz'ness. 
 Purvided thet's the true state of the case," he added, 
 stretching his huge limbs awkwardly, while a weary 
 look crept suddenly into his eyes "purvided thet's 
 it, and he proves himself to be a better man nur I 
 am, Cynthy must take her ch'ice. I hevn't got noth- 
 in' ag'in him ; he's a square sort of chap, and a man, 
 ez is a man, can stand bein' beat by a straightforrard 
 feller who is better fixed and better favored."
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Then came a letter from Henry Bruce to Cynthia, 
 couched in delicate terms, wherein he expressed regret 
 that he was unable to act as her escort to the coming 
 ball at San Marcus, but that courtesy necessitated 
 that he should accompany Miss Stafford. Cynthia 
 perused this missive calmly, wept over it in private, 
 and then acted with the perverseness of womankind. 
 She did not change her attitude toward the deserving 
 Mr. Jerrold, but she sat down and indited a long epis- 
 tle to the neglectful and dangerous Captain Foraker, 
 in which she reproached that gentleman for his long 
 absence from her side, represented herself as languish- 
 ing from lack of his attentions, and inquired if he 
 could spare time from his engrossing military duties 
 to take her to the coming festivity. And Captain 
 Foraker, vain, critical, and complacent, read this let- 
 ter carefully over his after-dinner cigar, smiled super- 
 ciliously, adjusted his officer's cap rakishly over his 
 distracting curls, and, mounting his horse, rode over 
 from the Post, and passed the afternoon with Cynthia. 
 
 That he was received with a cordiality he had no 
 reason nor right to expect ; that Cynthia flirted with 
 him desperately, and in a manner calculated to strike 
 despair into the heart of Buck Jerrold ; and that the 
 irate Alcides was moved several times, in the course 
 of that eventful afternoon, to cast longing glances in 
 the direction of the " Silent Mary," may be readily 
 imagined by the reader who has remarked the incon- 
 sistency of woman when dominated by pique. 
 
 Small wonder that Captain Foraker promised to 
 go to the ball ; that he listened cheerfully to Cynthia's 
 plan to visit Miss Bertha Maverick, the fascinating 
 daughter of the village blacksmith, and agreed to call
 
 142 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 for her at that lady's home on the evening in ques- 
 tion ; and that he rode back to his quarters with a 
 self-satisfied smile upon his supercilious features, curl- 
 ing his gray mustache, and otherwise pluming him- 
 self upon the triumphs of the afternoon. That, after 
 his departure, Cynthia dismissed him utterly from 
 her mind ; that, beyond the satisfaction of having 
 averted the awful possibility of being a " wall-flower" 
 at the San Marcus ball, she experienced nothing but 
 regret ; that she realized herself the vanity and un- 
 profitableness of all earthly things, while she suc- 
 ceeded in filling the minds of Jerrold and Dallas with 
 solicitude ; and that she hated Miss Stafford cordially, 
 and was conscious, in her heart of hearts, that Henry 
 Bruce was more fascinating than ever are facts that 
 will readily occur to her appreciative and discriminat- 
 ing sex, to whose tender sympathies her present emo- 
 tions are intrusted.
 
 X. 
 
 FOE weeks it had been apparent at San Marcus 
 that a social event of unusual importance was impend- 
 ing. For weeks a flutter of expectancy had disquieted 
 the feminine heart, displaying itself in animated gos- 
 sip upon the street corners, in an alarming tendency 
 to indulge in afternoon calls, and a reckless patronage 
 of seamstress and milliner. The affable clerks at 
 Murray's store had the tedious hours of business en- 
 livened by coy visits from local belles, nervously fussy 
 about the fit of high-heeled kid boots, and painfully 
 fastidious in regard to the cut of a glove or the tint 
 of a ribbon. They beset the shop-counters in trios 
 and pairs, and quite demoralized the perspiring store- 
 keeper. There was much promenading in the single 
 business street of the little village, indulged in so aim- 
 lessly as to give the observer the general impression 
 of a rehearsal. But- it was apparent that feminine 
 curiosity culminated at the river, whither, over the 
 level plain, the main thoroughfare of San Marcus led, 
 and to which locality the footsteps of the fair daugh- 
 ters were most persistently directed. 
 
 Foremost among these lovely pedestrians was Miss 
 Bertha Maverick, with an eye like the flash of a bayo- 
 net, and a profile decidedly aquiline. She could be 
 seen on any pleasant afternoon, defying the admira-
 
 144 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 tion of the baffled sun with a parasol of pale pink, and 
 leading on, as it were, by this orifiamme of sentiment, 
 the thronging cohorts of Texan coquetry. Three 
 days of aimless pilgrimaging on the part of the San 
 Marcus maidens, and all at once was seen the method 
 of this vernal madness. Occasional horsemen began 
 to be met with on the dusty highway. By degrees 
 the number of these was augmented to mounted 
 squads and groups, until at last their proportions 
 reached those of an occasional cavalcade. Of course, 
 this irruption of eligible manhood was the occasion 
 of much indiscriminate flirtation, and there were 
 many glances given and exchanged that boded ill for 
 the future peace of mind of the parties concerned. 
 Mischievous eyes challenged observation beneath 
 dainty bonnets, and the tilted sun-shade was eloquent 
 of the warfare of Cupid. Need it be said that bronzed 
 and bearded faces accepted these overtures with more 
 than equal frankness, that the fluttering handkerchief 
 in every instance received the recognition of the raised 
 sombrero, and that everywhere along this dangerously 
 active highway there was a disposition on the part of 
 either sex to halt frequently and look back ? 
 
 But, once in town, these amorous advances of the 
 sterner sex gave rise to reckless outlay of capital and 
 a remarkable solicitude in matters of dress. The bar- 
 ber was put into requisition, and the demand for 
 "b'iled shirts" and " store - clothes " threatened to 
 exceed the limited supply of those articles. Although 
 the proprietor of the Half-way House had made un- 
 usual preparation for this influx of custom, and had 
 taken the precaution to prepare the unfurnished bed- 
 rooms upon the upper corridor for occupancy, it was
 
 A NYMFH OF THE WEST. 145 
 
 soon found necessary on the part of guests to " double 
 up," and, in many instances, the floor and even the 
 roof were utilized, on account of the extensive oppor- 
 tunities they afforded for sleeping purposes. It was 
 whispered that the two Ludeling brothers great gal- 
 lants of the Southwest despairing of accommodation 
 at the village hostelry, had been obliged to pass the 
 night in the rear of the saloon, camping out with 
 blanket and saddle in true frontier fashion. That 
 the hard counters of Murray's store afforded restless 
 slumbers to a portion of this excessive population was 
 a matter of common report. The outcome of all this 
 was to strengthen the popular impression that the 
 "Half-way House" had been well christened. 
 
 Perhaps it was for these reasons that the visitors 
 devoted little of their time to slumber. Business was 
 brisk in the gambling-saloons and bar-rooms. The 
 pop of the lager-beer cork responded to the click of 
 the billiard-ball, and there was a large gathering of 
 men about the "monte-game" of a local blackleg, 
 and the usual instructive interchange of cash and ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Meanwhile, notes in very erratic handwriting were 
 constantly flying about. Mr. Lariat, in conformance 
 with a custom as absurd as unnecessary, was giving 
 Miss Lone Star preliminary notice that he contem- 
 plated the pleasure of calling upon her ; and the latter 
 lady was responding that she would take pleasure in 
 being at home in anticipation of that gratifying event. 
 And so feminine vanity was flattered on the one hand, 
 and the manly breast disquieted for some days to 
 come on the other, by these rare opportunities for 
 visiting ; the dearth of womanhood upon the frontier 
 10
 
 14:6 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 rendering young manhood practically defenseless. 
 And, to facilitate this dangerous state of things, the 
 event of the ball approached, at which music and the 
 dance those destroyers of philosophy were to finish 
 matters and put the coup de grdce to the general in- 
 fatuation. 
 
 Through the foresight of Bruce and Kernochan, 
 the best room in the "Half-way House" had been 
 engaged in advance for Kate and Edith. For them- 
 selves the gentlemen accepted with good humor such 
 primitive quarters as opportunity afforded. On the 
 morning of the eventful day, they drove down to San 
 Marcus in a light conveyance, reaching the little 
 hostelry in time for dinner. Here they registered in 
 the small blank-book which answered for the usual 
 hotel register, and Miss Stafford noted, with some 
 merriment, that an entry made by Phil Kernochan on 
 Christmas-day, two years previous, occurred only 
 four pages back. Here that lady's patrician nostrils 
 were saluted with the odor of kerosene and frontier 
 cookery, and, after enduring the stuffy atmosphere 
 and rheumatic appointments of her bedroom, she 
 came down to dinner with an amusement very similar 
 to that with which luxurious people enter upon the 
 enjoyment of a picnic. 
 
 Doubtless by the time she had discussed this re- 
 markable meal, eaten amid promiscuous society, and 
 overseered by the officious proprietor who kept up a 
 running fire of conversation with the myrmidons of 
 the kitchen through a long slit in the wainscot, and 
 dealt his plates and appetizing dishes over the heads 
 of his guests with great recklessness and liberality 
 the novelty of Texan hotel-life began to pall somewhat
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 147 
 
 upon the young lady. I can not say that Edith's ap- 
 petite was improved, either by the panoramic view of 
 hotel cookery the wainscot afforded, or by the gen- 
 tleman opposite, who ate molasses on his pie, and sup- 
 plied a very wide mouth with a very large knife, and 
 a general suggestion that the unnatural size of the 
 aperture was due to the hazard attending this experi- 
 ment. Howbeit, the meal was endured, and perhaps 
 in dread of dyspeptic retribution, Miss Stafford pro- 
 posed to Henry Bruce to take her for a short stroll 
 through the town. To this the gentleman readily 
 assented, and passing the long line of vicious and 
 kicking saddle-horses, tethered in front of the hotel, 
 they joined the animated procession of strollers that 
 idled through the main street of San Marcus. 
 
 I leave to the imagination how much attention 
 the fair Northerner attracted, what admiring glances 
 from under broad sombreros were cast after her erect 
 figure and graceful carriage, and with what envious 
 whispers of detraction the belles of the village re- 
 marked the faultnessness of her fashionable walking- 
 dress. But I must mention one incident of this after- 
 noon walk. They had reached a point about half-way 
 between the hotel and the river, when a familiar voice 
 caused Bruce to raise his eyes. Cynthia stood before 
 him, looking very pretty and engaging from the be- 
 coming depths of a quaint poke-bonnet. She was 
 accompanied by an elderly man in the dress of an 
 officer. He was nonchalantly puffing a cigar. Miss 
 Bertha Maverick, escorted by a cow-man of athletic 
 build and awkward gait, was just behind her. 
 
 A quick color mounted to Cynthia's cheek, and 
 she bowed hurriedly to Bruce, as she raised her eyes
 
 14-8 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 with a smile of coquetry to the man at her side. A 
 rapid interchange of hostilities" passed between the 
 ladies in a discriminating survey of one another's cos- 
 tumes, which was more expressive than words. Miss 
 Bertha Maverick, with supercilious eyelids and defi- 
 ant nostrils, re-enforced her less aggressive companion. 
 Bruce, who was about to speak, noting at once the 
 armed neutrality of all parties, raised his hat and 
 passed on. But, as he did so, he heard Miss Bertha 
 Maverick remark in a high, metallic voice : 
 
 " Thet's the stuck-up piece you was tellin' me 
 about eh, Cynthia ? "Well, ef I reckoned I was so 
 powerful fascinatin', I wouldn't let every one know 
 it whenever I met 'em. The airs and graces of thet 
 fast-colored brunette is enough to natch/ally paralyze 
 an eight-day kitchen-clock." 
 
 The dull red globe of the setting sun went down 
 that afternoon in mortification, blushing itself to 
 death before the silver glories of the splendid moon 
 that rose full-orbed and queenly over the San Marcus 
 hills. A crimson glow lingered along the horizon 
 where the shame of day's discomfiture was shared by 
 a few sympathetic clouds. An occasional planet, 
 serene and pulseless, hung poised in the limitless ether 
 and graced the triumphant destinies of night ; but 
 the thousand lesser stars were lost in the rare efful- 
 gence of the dominant moon. 
 
 With the first shadows of evening, public curi- 
 osity began to be attracted in the direction of a 
 long, low structure, whose spacious outlines and 
 shutterless windows showed black against the lighter 
 sky. 
 
 This building had been reared in the interests of
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 149 
 
 Erin by a prosperous Hibernian, who rejoiced in the 
 classic name of Ulysses Magindy, and consecrated his 
 architectural efforts and poetic memories under the 
 title of " Tara's Hall." But the cynical Texan youth 
 were wanting in reverence for Ireland's legendary 
 past. "Tarrier's Hall " was the popular rendering of 
 Mr. Magindy's poetic christening. Actuated by the 
 same spirit of skepticism, they pelted the edifice with 
 mud and stones, and sent vagrant tomato-cans on 
 voyages of discovery through its ancient lights. Ex- 
 ternally, it was a pathetic diagram of its owner's highly 
 lacerated feelings. 
 
 But there were occasions when the importance of 
 "Tamer's Hall " impressed itself even upon this deri- 
 sive public. During political meetings, religious re- 
 vivals, and temperance crusades, the hand of the van- 
 dal was stayed. Among such intervals of immunity 
 was the present. The very rabble that had been most 
 active in bombardment now bestowed themselves in 
 attempted renovation and repair. The spacious audi- 
 torium was swept and aired ; the relics of barbarism 
 were removed ; the draughts from the windows ef- 
 fectually sealed by the intervention of card-board, bits 
 of carpet, and cast-off hats ; and even the redeeming 
 touches of putty and varnish were here and there at- 
 tempted. 
 
 And when feminine taste was added to the rude 
 but practical efforts of men, it was wonderful to note 
 the transforming change ; to see how the ravages of 
 time and abuse yielded to a little well-bestowed deco- 
 ration. On this occasion the San Marcus maidens 
 had employed the garniture of hemlock-boughs and 
 gayly colored muslin with telling effect, and the tal-
 
 150 A NYirrn OF THE WEST. 
 
 low-candles perched everywhere seemed to threaten a 
 general conflagration. 
 
 Mr. Ulysses Magindy, himself, was at present going 
 about the building and lighting these candles with a 
 long pole, attended by a gang of small boys, who re- 
 strained their uncomplimentary epithets in view of 
 the coming festivity. And scarcely had the last ele- 
 vated dip commenced to contribute its greasy drop- 
 pings to the gratuitous shower that rained everywhere 
 upon the ball-room floor, when, with laughter and 
 merriment, the guests began to arrive and take up 
 their positions on the hard wooden benches that were 
 ranged at either end of the room. 
 
 Of course, an occasion so celebrated as this crown- 
 ing event of the frontier season had attracted the 
 widely scattered beauty of the region. The affair was 
 graced by the contributory fascinations of outlying 
 towns. Miss Cordelia Delancey the "Wild Rose of 
 San Suba" the perfume of whose attractions had 
 been already blown abroad by the prairie breezes as 
 far east as San Marcus, was present to blossom anew, 
 and to excite even more fragrant fancies in the minds 
 of her poetic admirers. Miss Flo' Brooks, clear-eyed 
 and bewitching, held out alluringly the fascinations 
 of her native town of Paint Rock. There were other 
 humbler importations, against whose staid mediocrity 
 these celebrated beauties flashed as against a somber 
 background. The local honors were sustained by 
 Miss Bertha Maverick and Miss Cynthia Dallas. 
 
 But public interest in the San Marcus ball was 
 better shown in the attendance of the men. There 
 was a generous sprinkling of frontier celebrities. Mr. 
 Joe Treddle was on hand, generously disguised in
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 liquor, having accomplished the great feat of riding 
 from San Marcus to San Saba on his bicycle a dis- 
 tance of over two hundred miles and finding it neces- 
 sary to stimulate freely to overcome fatigue after the 
 exploit. "Kickapoo Dick" lent the occasion his front- 
 ier playfulness and humor. Mr. Josh Blunt was 
 present, the truculent but unswerving satellite of Miss 
 Flo' Brooks. Captain Jack Foraker, conspicuous 
 among the bearded cow-boys for his military bearing 
 and complacent curling of his gray mustache, was 
 devoted to Cynthia, but generally observant of the 
 fair ones, as if he were under the impression that he 
 was giving the ladies a treat. And the elder Dal- 
 las, morbidly alive to the fact that Foraker was his 
 daughter's escort, had placed the "Silent Mary" and 
 his violin in his shaky carry-all, driven down to San. 
 Marcus, and put in an early appearance on the scene 
 of action. Stowing the heavy goose-gun carefully 
 away behind the ball-room door, so that it might be 
 available in case of emergency, he entered " Tarrier's 
 Hall" with his trusty fiddle in a green-baize bag be- 
 neath his arm, and an eye biliously observant of the 
 festive scene. Not that he really had any intention 
 of playing at the fete, but that, in his nervous anxiety 
 for his daughter's society, he took it along with him 
 from a sense of loneliness and sympathy, and perhaps, 
 too, from force of habit. 
 
 A certain aged violinist, renowned on the frontier 
 for his music and erratic evolutions upon the floor 
 while playing, had already opened the ball. The 
 waltz, tortured by cow-boy enthusiasts into something 
 between a can-can and a Dutch "spiel," was exciting 
 the laughter of Edith Stafford and Henry Bruce.
 
 152 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 "You see some strange steps here," remarked that 
 gentleman to Judge Natchez, who was present. "At 
 least, they strike me as strange from their novelty ; 
 but I suppose you have become used to them." 
 
 " Not at all," replied his Honor, smiling the gen- 
 tleman was descended from one of the first families 
 of Virginia "not at all, sir; I have passed a good 
 twenty years on the frontier, but there are some steps 
 taken here to-night which I think I can safely say I 
 never expect to get used to." 
 
 " Ab uno disce omnia," and I say no more of the 
 grotesque evolutions cut that night by slippered and 
 booted feet. If Miss Stafford laughed, it was guard- 
 edly, for she feared to give offense, .and, whenever she 
 could, she disguised the cause of her merriment by 
 glancing at the fiddler, who collided with the dancers, 
 and coruscated about the ball-room like a musical 
 rocket. 
 
 But, at one time, gravity was out of the question. 
 It was when Alcides Dallas who had stood aloof in 
 a corner of the room, regarding the proceedings with 
 malevolence and ill-favor all at once selected a large 
 chair, and, placing it gravely in the center of the 
 floor, seated himself with a deliberation that was un- 
 mistakable. Here he removed his violin from the 
 green-baize bag, and, without stopping to tune it, 
 entered into hearty and heart-breaking rivalry of the 
 regular musician. 
 
 No pen can describe the order of dancing from 
 that moment. The waltzing continued, interspersed 
 by frequent lanciers and quadrilles, but, from the 
 time that Alcides began to support the local fiddler, 
 the muse of melody fled the scene.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 153 
 
 "Isn't the floor just lovely ?" remarked Miss Ber- 
 tha Maverick to her escort, after an intoxicating whirl 
 in the effort to keep time to the music. 
 
 "Yes," returned Mr. Ludeling, "the floor is well 
 enough, but the orchestra paralyzes me altogether ; lot 
 us walk out upon the gallery, and get a chance to think." 
 
 And, indeed, the more philosophical, and those 
 apparently beyond the influence of sound, followed 
 the suggestion. Even "Lampasas Jake," who was 
 stone-deaf, was seen to leave the room abruptly. How 
 far the rumor, that the proprietor of the Half-way 
 House had broached a barrel of rye-whisky in the 
 neighboring wagon-shed, may have influenced this 
 sudden exodus, is a matter of conjecture. Certain it 
 is that many of those who left returned with a pecul- 
 iar light about the eye and a disposition to friskiness 
 in deportment. From this time forward it was no 
 rarity to see men waltzing together, and deriving no 
 end of satisfaction from the entertainment. There 
 was also a tendency, on the part of certain solitary 
 dancers, to seek some quiet corner of the ball-room, 
 and sing softly to themselves, with that enjoyment 
 which only alcohol can inspire. It may have been 
 that the sudden outbreak of the elder Dallas was 
 contagious ; but, be that as it may, his action, at 
 least, afforded Edith the pretext she required, for 
 scarcely had the violin duet begun, when she was asked 
 to dance by Mr. Buck Jerrold. Here was a quandary. 
 The high-born Northerner hardly cared to extend this 
 privilege to Mr. Jerrold, but she did not wish to hurt 
 his feelings, in view of his gallant behavior in her 
 late predicament. So she fell back in condemnation 
 of the orchestra.
 
 154 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 "Really, Mr. Jerrold," she said, smiling sweetly 
 up into his face, " I could not dance one step to such 
 time as those fiddles are playing. I have just refused 
 Mr. Bruce here. Shall we not walk upon the porch ? " 
 And with this pretext she left the room on the arm 
 of her deliverer. 
 
 Bruce, abandoned thus to himself, found the time 
 drag wearily. He was not edified by Cynthia's be- 
 havior with Captain Foraker. Beyond a mere slight 
 recognition, little conversation had passed between 
 them. But throughout the evening she flirted with 
 the officer desperately, and with an ostentation that 
 irritated Bruce. The captain accepted his fair com- 
 panion's advances complacently. He waltzed a great 
 deal, and, it was noticeable, left the ball-room at the 
 end of every dance. By degrees the effect of these 
 frequent trips began to be apparent in his manner and 
 gestures. He did not confine his attentions to Cyn- 
 thia, but was mildly playful and familiar with the 
 other ladies. Miss Dallas appeared a little annoyed 
 at this, but attempted to disguise it in conversation 
 with Miss Maverick and her escort. 
 
 At last, during one of his most genial moments, 
 Captain Foraker crossed the ball-room unsteadily to 
 the place where Edith was sitting. She had returned, 
 and was chatting with Mr. Jerrold. The Captain 
 posed himself engagingly before Miss Stafford, and, 
 without the formality of an introduction, requested 
 the favor of the next dance. Miss Stafford raised her 
 brown eyes in surprise, regarded the Captain a mo- 
 ment, and then turned coldly away. Temporarily 
 disconcerted, the gentleman described a half circle to 
 the left, and coming back to the same point repeated
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 155 
 
 his request. His gray mustache, elevated at an in- 
 ebriated angle, gave his countenance a droll expres- 
 sion. 
 
 "I de-shire favor of-f w-waltsh," repeated the 
 captain, in a very high key. 
 
 This was too much for Henry Bruce. The blood 
 rushed to his face as he rose to his feet. 
 
 "You forget yourself, sir!" he said, sternly 
 " the lady is not dancing, and, if she were, you are not 
 in a condition to remember your etiquette." 
 
 Captain Foraker gazed at Bruce in a dazed way. 
 It was a ludicrous but critical moment. The next a 
 blow might have been struck and a scene followed. 
 The moment passed. An imbecile smile spread itself 
 over his puffed face, as if the humor of his predica- 
 ment asserted itself in spite of his drunken discom- 
 fiture. He turned on his heel and returned to his 
 position at the opposite end of the room. 
 
 A diversion was here afforded by the entrance of a 
 singular figure. He was a tall, lean, cadaverous man 
 with long, jet-black hair, straggling beard, low brows, 
 and piercing black eyes. He strolled into the room, 
 with an impudent swagger, his slouch hat on the back 
 of his head, his hands in his pockets, and his panta- 
 loons tucked into his boots. In neglecting other de- 
 tails of his toilet he had also omitted his ablutions, and 
 his general appearance was disordered and unsavory. 
 But none of these facts apparently contributed to the 
 general sensation at his entrance. The ladies stared ; 
 the men scowled ; some swore and others laughed ; an 
 audible murmur of astonishment went round the 
 room. But the effect upon Alcides was most peculiar. 
 It put an instant stop to his music. He set down bow
 
 156 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 and fiddle and rose with nervous hast?. After re- 
 garding the intruder a second with a glance in which 
 rage and surprise struggled for the mastery, he took 
 a few hasty steps in the direction of the " Silent 
 Mary," apparently thought better of his resolve, came 
 back, and, sweeping chair, violin, and bow before 
 him, seated himself against the opposite wall, tilting 
 back and plunging his hands deep in his pockets with 
 an expression of amazed resignation. In this position 
 he remained, apparently uncertain what he should do 
 next. 
 
 Meanwhile, the uncleanly individual, after looking 
 boldly about the room, sauntered over to a corner 
 where certain of the uninvited guests were standing, 
 polluting the atmosphere of the ball-room with cheap 
 cigars, and generally absorbed in the incidents of the 
 evening. The manner in which the new-comer was 
 received by this group was in no sense flattering. No 
 one offered a word of greeting or even a sign of recog- 
 nition. Apparently, the entrance of Mr. Lemuel 
 Wickson, the horse-thief, upon the San Marcus fes- 
 tivities was regarded as an intrusion. 
 
 There was a sudden stir near the door, and Sheriff 
 Mosely entered. He strode to the center of the ball- 
 room with his quick, nervous stride, and cast a sharp 
 glance in every direction. He was armed, and his 
 manner was significant. For a second he stood quiet, 
 his small figure rigid, his alert eyes glancing about. 
 The next he espied Lemuel Wickson, and, with a 
 hurried gesture to his belt, he sprang forward. 
 
 A rush in that quarter on the part of the men im- 
 mediately followed. The ladies huddled together a 
 frightened bevy at the upper end of the room.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 157 
 
 Lem Wickson awaited the approach of Sheriff 
 Mosely with composure. Beyond the slipping of his 
 right hand carelessly beneath his coat, he did not 
 change his attitude. The sheriff did not stop until 
 he reached that quarter of the room, when, halting 
 suddenly, the formality of a surly nod was exchanged. 
 
 "Time's up, Lem," remarked Ike, coolly. "I 
 want you." 
 
 "What for?" demanded Mr. Wickson, gruffly, 
 without moving a muscle. 
 
 "In partickler, on a warrant sworn ag'in you for 
 horse-stealin' by Alcides Dallas and Buck Jerrold," 
 replied Mr. Mosely, "but it orter happened some time 
 ago for hog-stealin' and gin'ral cussedness." 
 
 "Not this evenin', Ike," replied Lem, incredu- 
 lously, leaning against the wall and allowing one hand 
 to rest carelessly on his hip. "I reckon to put in 
 my time at this hyai* ball to-night dance with the 
 gals, and enjoy myself gin'rally." 
 
 " Oh, ye do ? " said the sheriff, his blue eyes tak- 
 ing on a sudden, hard glitter ; "well, I don't reckon 
 thet little divarsion to take place, if thar's any law in 
 the Lone Star. Wot's more, I'm the man to pre- 
 vent it." 
 
 He made a quick dash at his belt and a sudden 
 spring forward. There was a rush and a scuffle, dur- 
 ing which the figures of both men whirled before the 
 eyes of the spectators. A second later Lem Wick- 
 son held the sheriff by the throat, his right hand 
 leveling upon him a large "Smith and Wesson." 
 
 The sheriff struggled frantically in his gripe, his 
 hand plucking at his revolver, which appeared to be 
 caught. It was a perilous moment. The rough men
 
 15S A NYMPH OP THE WEST. 
 
 looking on held their breath. It chanced that Henry 
 Bruce was nearest to Wickson the brandished weapon 
 at full-cock within the reach of his arm. With a 
 sadden dart forward he grasped the horse thief's 
 wrist with his left hand, and, seizing the " barrel- 
 catch" between the finger and thumb of his right, by 
 a quick, strong pull unshipped the barrel, throwing 
 the cartridges all over the room. 
 
 It was an act sublime in its desperation and the 
 skill of its achievement. It showed, moreover, a re- 
 remarkable knowledge of the weapon. In a twinkling 
 Bruce had closed with the disarmed and astounded 
 ruffian, and pinning him against the opposite wall, 
 released the sheriff. 
 
 " Well done ! " gasped the nearly throttled Ike, 
 glancing admiringly upon Bruce. He took a pair of 
 handcuffs from his pocket, and by a quick movement 
 secured his prisoner. Then he turned upon the 
 breathless crowd. 
 
 "I don't mind sayin' right here, thet thet's about 
 the neatest trick I ever yet seen done, and ef Lem 
 thar bed hed a ' Colt's/ my life wouldn't been worth 
 a pecan. Dog-gone this old greasy belt ! " he ex- 
 claimed, glancing down where his revolver had slipped 
 beyond the hammer in the worn leather, thereby mak- 
 ing it difficult to draw "dog-gone it! I hev hed 
 trouble with thet holster afore, and now it nearly 
 closed my record. I reckon I'd better make a requi- 
 sition for a new belt." 
 
 " Give us yer hand, pardner," he said again, turn- 
 ing once more to Henry Bruce. "It does Ike Mosely 
 good to feel the grip of a good man and true. If yer 
 ever wantin' anythin' very bad, or needin' any help,
 
 A NYMPn OF THE WEST, 15Q 
 
 I reckon ye know whar you kin get it arter to-night. 
 Ye kin count on the Sheriff of Oskaloo, any time, and 
 ez often ez you want to, for the last drop o' his blood. 
 I don't know on the whole," he added, with a sudden 
 change of manner, '"'but what I might as well cement 
 that statement with a practical snifter." 
 
 He took a flask of whisky from his pocket and ex- 
 tended it to Bruce. 
 
 The latter declined courteously. 
 
 "Jes' ez you say," remarked Ike, quietly, "but 
 yer not actin' ez sensible ez ye did a minute ago, and 
 yer losin' a chance to sp'ile some mighty good liquor. 
 I sampled this myself." 
 
 " Well," he said, pausing to take breath before 
 testing the qualities of his flask, "here's the health of 
 a man the county is proud of. I'm lookin' at ye, 
 pardner, along with the rest of the town of Oskaloo." 
 
 He raised the flask to his lips and tossed off a 
 draught with an accompanying smack. With charac- 
 teristic good-will he turned immediately to Wickson. 
 
 "No hard feelin's, Lem," he said, generously, 
 " seein' the late onpleasantness is over. Ef yer feel- 
 in' like tryin' this stuff, 'I don't mind holdin' it fur ye 
 to git the benefit." 
 
 He extended the flask good-humoredly to the lat- 
 ter's lips. But Mr. Wickson was not in the humor 
 for whisky, and signified it by turning impatiently 
 away. 
 
 "All right," said Ike, restoring the flask to his 
 pocket, without pressing his hospitality further upon 
 the thronging crowd, a few of whom wore an expres- 
 sion which made it evident that refusal was extremely 
 unlikely.
 
 160 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " It's a sing'lar thing, sometimes, how good licker 
 goes beggin'. Not thet it often occurs here in Texas, 
 but thet, when it does, it's worth while to take note of 
 it. I disremember any such depressin' state of facts, 
 sence I felt called upon to invent thet 'temperance 
 mead ' for the ball over at Brady. Good-evenin', gen- 
 tlemen. I trust I heven't materially interfered with 
 the festivities." 
 
 He turned on his heel, and, with his hand on the 
 arm of his prisoner, left the ball-room. 
 
 Of course so exciting an occurrence as the recent 
 arrest, was not without its effect upon the general 
 gayety. After the sheriff's departure, it was a difficult 
 matter to get the frightened ladies in the humor to 
 resume dancing. Possibly this difficulty was materi- 
 ally increased by the fact that the fiddler was not to 
 be found, but was at last discovered asleep in an old 
 carry-all in the shed, hard by the whisky-cask already 
 alluded to, and with a glass of spirits in his hand. 
 His violin had fallen from his grasp during his recent 
 alcoholic weakness, and had been crushed by the boot- 
 heel of some other follower of Bacchus. 
 
 No one dared think of the elder Dallas in this 
 emergency, but he, too, had fled the ball-room. 
 Under these discouraging circumstances the ladies 
 lingered a little, chatting with their escorts, and by- 
 and-by began to go home. 
 
 Edith and Henry Bruce remained long enough to 
 see certain patrons of the whisky-keg enter upon an 
 entertaining pastime. Having discovered that the 
 drippings from the candles were now pretty evenly 
 distributed by the recent dancing, some genius at- 
 tempted to improvise a slide. The idea became
 
 A NYMPII OF THE WEST. 
 
 speedily popular, and soon a long line of boisterous 
 revelers were joined in this ambitious effort to trans- 
 form the ball-room into a skating-rink. The edify- 
 ing diversion was continued until a late hour of the 
 evening. 
 
 The clear, round moon rode high and shone deeply 
 down when Bruce and Edith departed. As they did 
 so, the former caught a glimpse of a figure, skulking 
 along beneath the bright light, and carrying a heavy 
 gun. It was Alcides Dallas. 
 
 The singular movements of the old man awakened 
 his curiosity, and his eye mechanically followed him 
 as he moved up the road. He appeared to be follow- 
 ing some one and suspiciously noting his movements. 
 Glancing ahead, Bruce beheld in one of the moonlit 
 spaces of the level road the figures of Cynthia and 
 Captain Foraker proceeding slowly. Miss Bertha 
 Maverick and the younger Mr. Ludeling were some 
 distance behind. The captain was walking unsteadily, 
 and discussing some question in a decidedly loud tone 
 of voice ; Cynthia was endeavoring to quiet him. 
 
 Bruce could not repress a smile, as he realized that 
 the entire party were unconsciously under the armed 
 surveillance of the suspicious Alcides. But, though 
 in a measure amused, he did not direct the attention 
 of the fastidious young lady at his side to the humor 
 of the incident. During the walk home he conversed 
 but little, being occupied with his reflections. At 
 length, when they arrived at the Half-way House, he 
 surprised Miss Stafford with the information that he 
 intended taking a short ride or walk before retir- 
 ing. 
 
 " At this hour of the night ?" exclaimed Edith, 
 11
 
 1C2 -A- NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 who was a trifle piqued by his recent abstraction. " I 
 should think, Hal, you were absolutely daft." 
 
 "Not in the least ; only bored with the noise and 
 excitement of that pandemonium," Bruce replied, as 
 they passed up the broad steps of the veranda. 
 
 He bade her good-night in the hallway, and turned 
 away, leaving her gazing curiously after him as he 
 went out again into the moonlight.
 
 XL 
 
 HENRY BRUCE walked rapidly away in the mellow 
 light of the moon. By the side of a leprous sycamore 
 he paused to light a cigar. In the quick, upspring- 
 ing light of the match he beheld a man, seated upon 
 the door-stone of Murray's store and dejectedly smok- 
 ing. The soft moon-rays beat gently down upon the 
 dejected figure, idealizing his attitude. The man was 
 armed, and his revolvers glanced in the moonlight. 
 A large, rawboned horse stood gauntly outlined in the 
 shadow. Bruce recognized Buck Jerrold and the 
 erratic "Buckshot." 
 
 "A fine night for a ride," he said, puffing his 
 cigar. 
 
 Mr. Jerrold raised his head gloomily. 
 
 "Well enough for them ez cares to ride," he as- 
 sented, "but I ain't in no humor fer thet sort of 
 amusement." 
 
 "Tastes differ," replied Bruce, pleasantly, noting 
 the other's manner, and shrewdly divining its cause. 
 " Now, I should like nothing better myself." 
 
 " Why don't ye start in then ? " returned Mr. Jer- 
 rold; "I'm sure thar's prairie enough before ye to 
 make it an object." 
 
 "Simply because I have no horse," Bruce re-
 
 1G4: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 joined. " I came over from the ranch with the rest 
 of my party in a carriage." 
 
 " Wai, ef thet's all thet stands in yer way," replied 
 the accommodating Mr. Jerrold, taking his pipe from 
 his lips, " thar's * Buckshot.' Barrin' a disposition to 
 rare and ' buck ' HOW and then, ez ye've seen, he's a 
 peart hoss enough, and is at your service. For myself, 
 I've got enough to think about, without ridin' into 
 the bargain." 
 
 He took a six-shooter from his belt and regarded 
 it absently, cocking and uncocking the weapon with 
 the finger and thumb of his brawny right hand. The 
 clicking of the lock sounded ominously in the still 
 night. 
 
 Bruce looked curiously at the man before availing 
 himself of his offer. He seemed to have something 
 upon his mind. However, he untethered "Buck- 
 shot," and hanging the long riata from the saddle- 
 bow, sprang into the saddle. 
 
 "Where shall I find you, to return your horse ?" 
 he inquired. 
 
 " Oh, anywhere," Mr. Jerrold replied, indifferent- 
 ly. "Hitch him where you like in town, or leave 
 him at the 'Two Brothers.' I'm sure to find him." 
 
 "All right," replied Bruce, dashing away. 
 
 He rode at a swinging gallop through the main 
 street of the little frontier town, the hoofs of his 
 horse echoing loudly on the level road. In a few 
 moments he had left the settlement behind him and 
 was alone upon the vast, illimitable plain. 
 
 The grateful transition from the feverish scene he 
 had recently quitted to the perfect freedom of bound- 
 less space, brought to his spirit a sense of rest and
 
 A NTMPH OF THE WEST. 165 
 
 peace. The night was so serene, so calm, so passion- 
 less ! Everywhere the dominant moon silvered the 
 landscape with the distinctness of day. The slopes 
 of the San Marcus hills stood revealed in the moon- 
 light, and seemed to have encroached upon the level 
 plain, rimming the horizon with deepest blue. The 
 live-oaks, dotting the prairie, stood out clearly, and 
 the mesquites appeared like shivering ghosts slipping 
 past him in the shadow. It was very still. The 
 thousand fragrant odors of the prairie rose upon him 
 as he rode forward. Occasionally, the low hoot of an 
 owl, or the prolonged howl of a coyote, broke the 
 monotony. He came suddenly upon a troop of mus- 
 tangs, visiting a neighboring "salt-lick," and in an 
 instant the lonely waste awoke to life and animation. 
 The surprised caballada wheeled in the moonlight and 
 broke away with many a frisk and gambol. From a 
 a spirit of emulation, Bruce put "Buckshot" to 
 his paces, and rode after them at the top of his 
 speed. 
 
 After a long, exhilarating canter, he checked his 
 panting horse and rode back upon his tracks. The 
 excitement of the recent chase and the stimulus of 
 physical exercise had quite dispelled the feeling of 
 irritation which had driven him out of town at this 
 unseemly hour upon horseback. Aside from his en- 
 counter in the sheriff's behalf, which had naturally 
 reacted somewhat upon his nerves, there were other 
 things which had tended to disturb the equanimity 
 of his temper. 
 
 As he rode on in the stillness, unbroken save by 
 the monotonous footfall of his horse, his thoughts 
 constantly reverted to Cynthia and her behavior with
 
 1G6 A NYMrn OF THE WEST. 
 
 the captain. It had annoyed him undeniably, and 
 without his knowing why. 
 
 Bruce did not believe himself to be interested in 
 Miss Dallas. Having little of that vanity which char- 
 acterizes most men, it had probably never occurred 
 to him, that much of Cynthia's apparent interest in 
 Foraker was prompted by pique at his own refusal to 
 act as her escort. He was aware that the quaint, 
 breezy little maiden, who had rescued him so pluckily 
 from his predicament in the Colorado, some months 
 before, interested him greatly ; that he felt strangely 
 drawn toward her, whenever he found himself in her 
 society ; and that, being impelled by a thoroughly 
 masculine impulse to favor her with sound advice 
 and beneficial counsel, he was annoyed to find that 
 she ignored it. 
 
 An incident of the early evening had not tended 
 to increase the serenity of his temper. It was when, 
 upon first recognizing Cynthia at the ball in company 
 with Foraker, he had so far forgotten himself in his 
 suspicion of the man as to inquire : 
 
 " Who is that fellow, Cynthia ?" 
 
 " A gentleman," Miss Dallas replied, provokingly. 
 The rebuke was crushing. He writhed under it now 
 at the recollection. 
 
 But, doubtless, what most annoyed Bruce was 
 Cynthia's appearing in public with the man against 
 whom he had taken the trouble to warn her. On 
 behalf of my sex, I may be pardoned the reflection 
 that the perversity of woman is often vexatious, and 
 that the cheerful obstinacy with which they ignore 
 common sense quite frequently paralyzes masculine 
 prudence.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 167 
 
 The sudden hoof-beats of a horse caused him to 
 look up. So absorbed had he been in his reflections 
 that he had taken no heed of his surroundings. He 
 found himself on the San Marcus highway, at some 
 distance from the town. A horseman was coming 
 toward him, mounted upon a powerful gray. The 
 moonlight glanced upon the epaulets and other deco- 
 rations of the rider. The cause of his evening's an- 
 noyance stood before his eyes. 
 
 Captain Jack Foraker was evidently the worse for 
 his evening's gayety. He had spent the latter portion 
 of the night in visiting the neighboring saloons, and 
 in monotonous patronage of the San Marcus bars. 
 At length, being suddenly impressed with the neces- 
 sity of presenting himself for roll-call at the garrison, 
 he had reeled to the stable, kicked the sleepy ostler 
 into consciousness, and rolling his semi-inebriated per- 
 son into the saddle, started out of town an hour be- 
 fore sunrise. 
 
 It was this exhilarated individual, with difficulty 
 bestriding his gallant gray charger, who encountered 
 Henry Bruce a half-hour later on the San Marcus 
 road. It was this gentleman who, instantly recogniz- 
 ing him in the clear light of the moon, drew rein to 
 intercept him ; and it was he who accosted him 
 angrily, albeit incoherently, having apparently some 
 grievance for which he wished redress. 
 
 Bruce, at once noting the condition of the re- 
 doubtable captain, turned his horse aside and endeav- 
 ored to pass him without replying ; but Foraker, per- 
 ceiving his intent, put spurs to his gray and cannoned 
 into him with a force that compelled him to halt. 
 
 "What do you mean by that ?" demanded Bruce,
 
 168 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 with difficulty reining in the prancing "Buckshot" 
 after the collision. 
 
 " I've got suthin' to say to you, young feller," said 
 the captain, thickly, rising in his stirrups, and lean- 
 ing forward over the neck of his horse in an aggress- 
 ive way. He emphasized his remarks with his heavy 
 riding-whip. " You insulted me to-night. I want 
 you to und'shtan' I'm a West-Point'r, and a damned 
 sight too good company for any girl, you or any other 
 tender-foot eshcorts to a ball. You hear me ?" he de- 
 manded, with drunken directness, raising his voice. 
 "Wass more, she ain't much on looks anyway, nor 
 style either ; and there wasn't any occasion for you to 
 be so damned exclusive." Then, leaning over his 
 saddle with an insulting air of giving very important 
 advice, " You want to be devilish careful, young fel- 
 ler, or you'll get yourself into trouble mind that." 
 
 " Stand aside ! " Bruce broke in sternly, reining 
 back his horse as if about to ride on. 
 
 " Tryin' to get away 1 " said the captain, with a 
 sneer, attempting to intercept him by keeping his 
 gray in front of him with whip and spur "tryin' to 
 get away are ye ? I want you to und'shtan', young 
 feller, you can't do that until I'm done with you. I 
 want you to und'shtan' " 
 
 But here Bruce struck " Buckshot" sharply and 
 attempted to dash by him. 
 
 The captain saw his intent, and, striking his spurs 
 into his horse, made an effort to stop him a second 
 time, by running into him. The effort proved futile. 
 " Buckshot " had already got under way. Enraged 
 at his want of success, Foraker rose in his stirrups, 
 and, as Bruce passed him, struck him over the head
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 169 
 
 with his heavy riding-whip, summoning to the effort 
 all the strength he could muster. 
 
 The blow made Bruce reel in his saddle. For a 
 moment he feared he should be unseated. The next, 
 wheeling his horse about, he dashed against Foraker, 
 closing with him in a mounted struggle for the 
 whip. 
 
 As the horses came together, Bruce saw the cap- 
 tain shift his whip to his left hand suddenly, and 
 caught the ominous glitter of a revolver in the light 
 of the moon. He had barely time to crouch in the 
 saddle when the weapon was fired, the bullet whistling 
 close above his head. Clearly, the time for temporiz- 
 ing had passed. Forbearance was now suicidal. In 
 an instant Bruce had drawn his own pistol, and, as 
 the captain raised his arm a second time, he leveled it 
 upon him. 
 
 The two weapons exploded simultaneously the 
 flash from his opponent's revolver almost blinding 
 Bruce as the deafening reports rang out upon the still 
 air. At the sound of the shots the horses sprang 
 apart, and, through the smoke that hung heavily be- 
 tween them, Bruce could see the captain endeavoring 
 with difficulty to keep the saddle. Hardly had he 
 realized that he was himself unhurt, when Foraker 
 swayed suddenly in his stirrups and fell heavily to 
 the ground. The gray trotted off a few paces, and 
 then stopped quietly to graze. 
 
 Bruce threw himself from his horse and bent over 
 the prostrate man. The captain was lying upon his 
 face, his hand still grasping the revolver. A slight 
 smoke issued from the damp barrel. As he turned 
 the body over, something warm fell upon his hand,
 
 170 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 causing him an indescribable thrill. It was blood 
 from a wound in the breast. The red drops were 
 trickling fast over the front of his uniform. Foraker 
 was dead. 
 
 Notwithstanding the justice of his action, Bruce 
 rose to his feet with an overmastering feeling of awe. 
 As he stood gazing down at the dead man, and the 
 eyes, so lately opened upon him in hate, stared blank- 
 ly up into his, he tottered and felt faint. White as 
 was the face of the dead, his own was yet whiter, and 
 took on a ghastly expression in the cold, gray light 
 that seemed suddenly to possess earth and sky. Bruce 
 gazed vacantly about him and realized that it was 
 morning. A faint flush was visible in the east. 
 
 It was no sense of guilt, but the sickening realiza- 
 tion of having sent a human being to his long account, 
 that made his heart heavy as he mounted again and 
 rode slowly back along the level road ; it was the 
 horror of the thing. So far as the act itself was con- 
 cerned, it was clearly justifiable. It had been done 
 in self-defense. 
 
 His mind was made up as to what he should do. 
 He would ride back to San Marcus, seek out Sheriff 
 Mosely, acknowledge the shooting and the circum- 
 stances, and give himself up. For a moment his 
 courage misgave him, as he realized that there had 
 been no witness to the encounter, and that his justifi- 
 cation must rest upon his own unsupported statement. 
 He was pondering this fact with deep and increasing 
 misgiving, as he rode forward, when a familiar voice 
 hailed him just ahead, so abruptly as to startle him 
 and cause him to stop short. Four mounted men 
 had halted on the highway in front of him. It was
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 now broad daylight. Bruce recognized the familiar 
 figure of Ike Mosely in the man who had addressed 
 him. His deputies, Jake Sharp and "Humly Jim," 
 were assisting him as mounted escort, in conducting 
 the horse-thief, Lem Wickson, to the military jail at 
 Bradford Post. 
 
 "How now, pardner?" remarked Mr. Mosely, 
 genially, slipping one foot free from the leather stir- 
 rup, and throwing his leg easily over the pommel of 
 his saddle ; " yer takin' rather an early constitutional, 
 ain't ye, fur one who's been up pretty near all night ? 
 I ain't specially fond of ridin' before breakfast myself, 
 but Lem, here, was so anxious about gettin' into com- 
 fortable quarters, I reckoned we'd better humor him, 
 so we've started for the Post. P'raps you'll reconsider 
 on thet position of yours last night, and be willin' to 
 celebrate thet pistol trick with a leetle genooine ope- 
 deldock." 
 
 He produced the well-known flask as he spoke, 
 and extended it hospitably toward him. 
 
 Bruce could hardly force a smile at the sheriff's 
 facetiousuess. However, he took the flask and drank 
 a swallow of its contents. It braced his nerves. In 
 a few words he recounted what had happened. 
 
 " Ye don't say ! " remarked Mosely, when he had 
 finished. "So ye called Foraker in, eh ? jest natch- 
 'ally dropped him, right in his tracks, when he had 
 a bead on you fust ? Wai, now, pardner, I congratu- 
 late you. Ef you'd like a recommend to jine ' the 
 Hangers,' any time you're up our way, I reckon Ike 
 Mosely will be on hand with the necessary papers. I 
 tell you what, boys," he said, turning round in the 
 saddle suddenly, and addressing the two deputies,
 
 172 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " thet's rather sarcastic on a West-Pointer, rakin' a 
 soger out of his boots, when he was fust with his 
 weapon ! " 
 
 Jake Sharp and "Humly Jim," seeing that the 
 great man was disposed to be jovial, received the re- 
 flection with ghastly merriment. 
 
 "How's thet ?" ejaculated Mosely, turning again 
 to Bruce, as the latter repeated his intention of giving 
 himself up. " You're thinkin' of comin' along with 
 us ? I reckon we've got about all we kin take care of 
 to-day," winking craftily at the deputies. "Lem, 
 here, 'a a big contract to handle, and it's pretty good 
 and free country all round about here. My eyes 
 sorter failin' me after last night's business, and my 
 hearin' bein' onsartin, I don't know ez I hev any 
 knowledge of this onexpected meetin' out here on the 
 road. I reckon, ef I should ever -get to hear of any 
 sech encounter, it might be necessary fur me to take 
 some action ; but ez the case stands jest now, ye see, 
 I'm not aware thet anything out of the ornery hez oc- 
 curred." 
 
 In spite of the sheriff's humorous reception of the 
 event of the early morning, Bruce still persisted in 
 his plan of giving himself up, urging that this was 
 the best and most honorable way of clearing himself 
 from the imputation of foul play. To this the genial 
 Ike cheerfully opposed the folly of any one's putting 
 himself in the clutches of the law for killing his ad-, 
 versary in a fair fight, and the risk of exposing him- 
 self to the infuriated soldiery at the Post, who would 
 naturally feel a partisan resentment at the death of 
 their chief. 
 
 Finding at length that Bruce was determined,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 1Y3 
 
 Mosely reluctantly acquiesced, but insisted that he 
 should accompany them as if merely a traveling com- 
 panion and not under arrest. Bruce was about to 
 comply, when it suddenly dawned upon him that he 
 was riding "Buckshot," and that he might be sus- 
 pected of having stolen the horse an act generally 
 regarded by Lone Star tribunals to be less justifiable 
 than actual homicide. He explained his position to 
 the sheriff. 
 
 "Don't let thet worry you," replied that worthy, 
 quickly, cutting the Gordian knot of the difficulty 
 with official promptitude. "Ef you're bound to 
 make me arrest ye, thet matter's easily settled. 
 Freeze to the critter, pardner, for the rest of this 
 trip. The State allows me to provide the means 
 of bringin' in my prisoners, understand ? It won't 
 bother Jerrold much. I reckon I'll attach the ani- 
 mal fur your partickler benefit."
 
 XII. 
 
 THE event of the San Marcus ball had not proved 
 entirely satisfactory to Cynthia, nor her stay with 
 Miss Bertha Maverick an unalloyed delight. She re- 
 turned to the Dallas Ranch with a very decided feeling 
 of disappointment. Perhaps the behavior of Alcides 
 on the evening in question sensibly aggravated this 
 state of mind. 
 
 The door had hardly closed on the departing 
 Foraker, whsn the old man presented himself, gun in 
 hand, before the astonished Maverick household, and 
 excitedly announced his intention of taking bis daugh- 
 ter back home with him that very night. In vain 
 Cynthia pleaded fatigue, and Miss Bertha declared 
 that the festivities of the week were not ended ; in 
 vain the accommodating blacksmith extended to Al- 
 cides the hospitalities of his dwelling, and urged that 
 it was too late altogether to think of attempting the 
 journey ; the old man remained obdurate, and there 
 was nothing to do but comply. 
 
 It will be understood, by my feminine readers, that 
 the young lady did this with a very ill grace, and that 
 she rose rather late upon the following day, a little 
 fretful and cross in consequence. 
 
 "I suppose them ear-rings didn't fetch thet For- 
 aker to the extent she expected," commented Alcides,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 175 
 
 who was making preparations to ride into town for 
 some family stores he had forgotten. The elder Dal- 
 las referred to some jewelry of glaring pattern he had 
 recently purchased for Cynthia. He was not alto- 
 gether confident of the purity or appropriateness of 
 his own taste. He continued his preparations for de- 
 parture, but was quietly observant and critical. 
 
 Miss Dallas took no notice of the solicitude of her 
 sire. She was annoyed and displeased for many rea- 
 sons : at her father, for his abrupt termination of her 
 visit ; at Henry Bruce, for not proffering the atten- 
 tions she had determined beforehand to thwart ; at 
 the captain, for his susceptibility to the attractions of 
 other belles, and his disposition to be convivial while 
 in her company. Cynthia was too experienced in the 
 society of the frontier to be either puritanical or 
 prudish in the matter of beverages, but she resented 
 the captain's indulgence, under the circumstances, 
 with the sincerity it deserved. 
 
 Then there were other matters of solicitude not 
 so apparent to the masculine mind, but which a sym- 
 pathetic sex will readily appreciate matters between 
 herself and Miss Bertha, wherein the rival charms of 
 the young ladies had come in collision, resulting in 
 consequent jealousy and woe. 
 
 The agony of mind, induced by such a succession 
 of causes, is readily apparent ; so that later, when Mr. 
 Buck Jerrold suddenly rode up to the ranch-gate and 
 threw himself from the saddle, he was welcomed with 
 a cordiality that might have been misleading. 
 
 " What hoss ye got thar, Buck ? " inquired Al- 
 cides, suspiciously, noting the enthusiasm of his 
 daughter's manner. " Ain't thet Foraker's gray ? "
 
 176 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 "I reckon so/' Mr. Jerrold returned, with a 
 gravity of manner that impressed both Alcides and 
 Cynthia "I reckon so, Al, and I don't wonder ye 
 ask me. The fact is, so much hez taken place sence 
 last night, thet I kin hardly git it straight myself or 
 git started to tell it. I'm ridin' thet hoss because 
 I've got permission from Jedge Pemberton to do so, 
 and because Ike Mosely hez seized ' Buckshot ' to 
 transport a prisoner to the jail at Bradford Post." 
 
 He glanced quickly at Cynthia. 
 
 " To cut a long story short," he continued, avert- 
 ing his eyes from the girl's face, " Jack Foraker was 
 found lyin' dead on the prairie, this mornin', with a 
 bullet- wound in his left breast. His hoss was grazin' 
 quietly in the neighborhood. Thar wasn't any ex- 
 planation of the shootin', and all sorts of theories 
 were flyin' about at San Marcus, when a couple of fel- 
 lers rode into town and allowed, thet they met Ike 
 Mosely and his deputies half-way to the Post, and thet 
 they hed the man who done it." 
 
 " And who was it ? " asked Alcides, breathlessly. 
 
 Buck Jerrold glanced again at Cynthia. She was 
 seated on the door-stone of the ranch, with clasped 
 hands and startled eyes, noting every detail of the 
 intelligence. 
 
 " I don't know nothin' about the matter myself, 
 one way or t'other," responded Buck, turning his 
 eyes inward as if to escape the imputation of being 
 responsible for what he was about to communicate, 
 "but Kidge Bartram said thet the man they hed was 
 ridin' ' Buckshot,' and thet he hed confessed to hevin' 
 shot Foraker in a hand-to-hand fight on hossback 
 early this mornin'."
 
 A. NYMPH OF THE WEST. 177 
 
 "But who was it?" Cynthia broke in impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " Henry Bruce," said Jerrold, quietly. 
 
 There was a dead silence. Dallas and Jerrold ex- 
 changed glances. A moment later Cynthia rose to 
 her feet, white as the neighboring wall, and ran 
 quickly into the house. In the hush that followed 
 her departure the two men grew restless. 
 
 The old man was the first to speak, and when he 
 did so, it was in tones of exultation. 
 
 " Wai, dern my skin, ef thet young feller don't 
 deserve the thanks of the entire county ! " he ex- 
 claimed, slapping his leg in self-congratulation over 
 Foraker's untimely decease. "I allers did take con- 
 sider'ble stock in Henry Bruce, and now I'm a tender- 
 foot, ef he ain't riz in my estimation a clean hundred 
 per cent ! " 
 
 Buck Jerrold assented with less emphasis. He 
 was pondering the absence of Cynthia. 
 
 " Thar's no discountin' the fact thet Jack Fora- 
 ker's death's a public benefit," he replied, with cheer- 
 ful philosophy. "But I reckon, Al, thar's a good 
 many ez is takin' pretty hard the mess young Bruce 
 hez got himself inter. It seemed to break the Ker- 
 nochans up pretty bad, and Miss Stafford was plumb 
 beside herself. They left town fur the ' Mesquite 
 Kanch,' ez soon ez they learned the facts ; and Phil 
 Kernochan said he was goin' to the Post arterwards." 
 
 A slight rustling in the direction of Cynthia's bed- 
 room showed that Mr. Jerrold's facts were noted. 
 
 " Dog gone it, Buck, ye're right ! " exclaimed Al- 
 cides, suddenly, as the possible danger of Bruce's po- 
 sition suggested itself to his mind. "Them sogers of 
 12
 
 178 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 Foraker's company might take it into their cussed 
 heads to be ugly, and then thar's no tellin' what they 
 mightn't jest natch'ally do." 
 
 He turned his dull eyes toward the river, and de- 
 voted some moments to profound meditation. 
 
 "I'm not so sure it wouldn't be a right smart idea 
 to let Colonel Hunt and his rangers know how mat- 
 ters stand," he suggested. He glanced inquiringly at 
 Jerrold. That gentleman appeared lost in thought. 
 ""Wai, I reckon I'll go to town and see what's the 
 latest developments," he said, finally. "Hedn't ye 
 better go 'long?" 
 
 Mr. Jerrold reflected. He would have much pre- 
 ferred a half-hour's conversation with Cynthia, but 
 the occasion was evidently not a propitious one. Since 
 the delivery of his unwelcome intelligence, he had seen 
 nothing of her. He lounged idly about the door a 
 few minutes, in the hope that she might come out. 
 She did not appear. So he turned reluctantly to ac- 
 company Alcides. 
 
 The old man had already mounted the box-seat of 
 his wagon, and taken up the reins. He whipped up 
 smartly, and, with a loud protest from axle and spring, 
 the crazy conveyance got fairly under way. Jerrold 
 tarried only to cast one regretful glance in the direc- 
 tion of Cynthia's window ; then, mounting the gray, 
 he dashed after him down the road. In a few min- 
 utes the figures of both men were lost to view in the 
 shrubbery that bordered the river. 
 
 The house grew strangely quiet after their depart- 
 ure. The ebony Amelia had departed early that morn- 
 ing for a day's holiday at San Marcus, so the busy 
 sounds of the kitchen were hushed. The hens and
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 chickens, taking advantage of her absence, strolled 
 boldly about the door-yard, and camped out and for- 
 aged among the pots and pans, after the fashion of 
 neglected poultry. The antelope tugged at his con- 
 fining tether, missing the attentions of his mistress. 
 "Aulus" dozed, and caught flies on the door-step. 
 A general air of reposeful indifference seemed to have 
 settled down upon the Dallas ranch with the sun- 
 beams that slumbered on its porch. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when the door opened 
 suddenly, and Cynthia came out. She was dressed as 
 for a journey. She wore the long habit familiar to 
 her riding excursions, and, as she stepped from the 
 door-stone, her daintily gathered skirts revealed di- 
 minutive riding-boots and silver spurs. Beyond a 
 slight redness of the eyelids, there was no trace of the 
 agitation of a few hours before, but, in place of it, a 
 settled resolve shone in her eyes, and spoke in her 
 movements. She passed quickly across the door-yard, 
 heedless of the gambols of " Aulus " and the bleats of 
 the tethered antelope. Arriving at the barn in the 
 rear of the ranch, she roused herself sufficiently to 
 shut the great hound in a neighboring box-stall, and 
 hook the door securely ; whereupon, without further 
 delay, she led her pony from the stable, and saddled 
 and bridled him as fast as her eager fingers could 
 manipulate buckle and strap. She accomplished this 
 task with a deft ease to which habit had long accus- 
 tomed her. With equal readiness she led the obedient 
 mustang to an adjacent tree-stump, where she effected 
 successfully the somewhat discommoding achievement 
 of mounting. Then, with a sharp cut of her riding- 
 whip, she started " Pepita " at once into a gallop, and
 
 180 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 struck out over the prairie with a directness that 
 showed bar fixedness of purpose. 
 
 Her mind was made up ; she had decided what to 
 do. In the interval since she had learned of the mis- 
 fortune that had overtaken Henry Bruce, she had 
 weighed the possible dangers of his position, and re- 
 solved that assistance must be sent him at all hazards. 
 The forebodings of Alcides were scarcely spoken when 
 they awoke the courage and sympathy of her resolute 
 little heart. She had waited only to see if her father 
 or Jerrold would return to send the warning the for- 
 mer had suggested. They had not done so. Roused 
 now to a fever of excitement at the delay, she had de- 
 termined to be the bearer of the tidings herself. 
 
 To see Colonel Hunt, who was a friend of her 
 father's, and well known to Cynthia ; to acquaint him 
 with the circumstances of the tragedy of the early 
 morning ; to champion Bruce's cause to the utmost, 
 and so work upon the sympathies of the ranger cap- 
 tain that he would summon his men and go at once 
 to Bradford Post this was the errand the courageous 
 girl had undertaken. 
 
 And now, as she set out upon this mad ride over 
 valley and divide, her pulses throbbed with anxiety 
 and her heart grew faint, fearing some possible mis- 
 chance that might cause the failure of her plan. What, 
 if the colonel should be absent ! What, if the rangers 
 had moved their camp from the locality she so well 
 knew, and had so often visited with her father ! What, 
 if some other warning had called these adventurous 
 men away from their headquarters, and she should 
 arrive to find the place a solitude, and herself power- 
 less to aid or to save him ! In terror at the thought,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 181 
 
 she plied without pity both bit and spur. The pant- 
 ing "Pepita" fairly flew! Used as she was to the 
 saddle, the breathless haste, the agony of that terrible 
 gallop remained always an event in Cynthia's memory. 
 She heeded not the familiar landscape, undulating 
 ever before her like a billowy sea ; the alarmed cattle 
 that fled in a panic from the thunder of her approach ; 
 the occasional bands of antelope that dashed away, 
 affrighted ; the flocks of quail and summer duck that 
 whirred to the right and left, as she dashed through 
 copse and underbrush, or came suddenly upon some 
 outlying pool. On, on she sped, while the trees flew 
 reeling by, and the ravens croaked an ominous presage 
 from the wayside. "Pepita"was flagging a little. 
 She had still some miles to go. The sun was sinking 
 slowly but surely to the horizon. Yet, taking ever 
 with the skill of the frontier, the shortest and most 
 direct way to her rendezvous, plunging through chap- 
 arral at the peril of life and limb, her garments torn, 
 her pony bleeding from the thorny thicket, she still 
 held her course to the westward, and galloped on with 
 a courage that in man would have been heroic, but in 
 woman was sublime ! 
 
 The camp, occupied by Colonel Hunt and the 
 rangers he commanded, was pitched in a motte of 
 pecans that bordered a fertile valley. The lofty tree- 
 tops lifted themselves a dark-green barrier against 
 the monotony of the level plain. Within, the white 
 tents of the rangers glimmered in the shade, saddles 
 and camp-utensils were scattered about, horses stood 
 tethered here and there, or roamed with hoppled 
 limbs and tinkling stock-bell through the grove
 
 182 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 everything wore the air of a picturesque and favor- 
 able encampment. 
 
 It was the supper-hour, and camp-fires were be- 
 ginning to illuminate the shadows of the aisles. The 
 glancing light flashed upon the figures of the men, 
 busied in cooking, or lounging in groups about the 
 doors of their tents ; upon arms and accoutrements, 
 stacked and piled against various trees. The fires 
 roared and crackled ; the steam of the broiling mor- 
 sels filled the air ; -and in the background, where a 
 somewhat larger and more comfortable tent stood by 
 the side of a quiet pool, the rising globe of the silver 
 moon swung silently over the forest picture. 
 
 The waters were already beginning to shimmer 
 and dance with its reflected rays, when the flap of 
 this tent was pushed aside, and a man strode out of 
 the opening. As he did so the light of a camp-fire 
 opposite flashed full upon him, and revealed the feat- 
 ures of Colonel William Hunt. 
 
 It was a characteristic face. One understood, at a 
 glance, why it was that this man had been chosen to 
 lead the disciplined band that followed him. " The 
 locks that he bared to the evening air were a trifle 
 grizzled with age. Hardship and privation had set 
 their seal upon the face, but only to intensify its look 
 of determination and daring. Decision and will domi- 
 nated the strong lines of mouth and jaw. It was 
 apparent at once that, whatever courage could under- 
 take or energy achieve, yielded before the marked 
 personality of the man. 
 
 Something of this was apparent in the glances cast 
 upon him by his men, as he strode in among them 
 and sauntered away through the trees. Their manner
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 183 
 
 betokened a respect that the intimacy and familiarity 
 of their camp-life could not dispel. 
 
 Colonel Hunt did not stop until he reached a large 
 tree that stood like a giant picket upon the very con- 
 fines of the grove. He leaned his back against it and 
 stood looking out upon the shadowy plain which the 
 moonlight was beginning to illumine. Hardly had 
 he done so, when the rhythmic hoof-beats of a horse, 
 coming toward him at full gallop, struck his ear. He 
 stood erect and listened. A breeze had sprung up, 
 and, as its light breath fanned his furrowed cheek, he 
 could even distinguish the panting breath of the ani- 
 mal, as if driven hard or furiously ridden. Surprised 
 that any one should be approaching the camp at such 
 a rate of speed, he stepped out into the open. In an 
 instant he was almost run doAvn by Cynthia, mounted 
 upon the foam-covered " Pepita." 
 
 The apparition of her mounted presence came 
 upon Hunt so suddenly, that he cried out, " Halt ! " 
 with the sternness of one used to command. The 
 horse was checked instantly, but with a reckless- 
 ness that almost threw the exhausted animal upon 
 its haunches. 
 
 " Who's there ? " demanded the colonel, striding up. 
 
 For a few moments there was no reply. Then a 
 voice in the gloom panted, " Cynthia !" and immedi- 
 ately after, the girl slipped lightly to the ground, and 
 stood leaning exhaustedly against the saddle. 
 
 She was so breathless and spent with the fatigue 
 of her long ride that, at first, she could only indi- 
 cate the urgency of her errand by broken sentences. 
 Meanwhile the colonel, roused by the eloquence of 
 her pale face and disheveled tresses, was moved to
 
 184 -A- NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 sympathy. When, at last, with many pauses for 
 breath, but with an earnestness that betrayed her 
 anxiety, she had made her purpose known, the ran- 
 ger's response was kindly and reassuring. 
 
 "Ye're a brave little girl," he said, "and a man 
 oughter feel proud that one o' your style takes the 
 trouble to show an interest in him. Well, Miss Cyn- 
 thia, come up to the camp and we'll see what can be 
 done. It's a full moon to-night, and only a few 
 hours' hard riding from here to the Post. Perhaps 
 it'd be jest as well if I took the boys over for a little 
 pasear. They won't mind it much, and, even if noth- 
 ing comes of it, it will set your fears at rest at any 
 rate. Ef thar's a man in my company that isn't will- 
 in' to make this trip, when he hears of the ride 
 you've taken to save Henry Bruce, he's not fit to serve 
 under Colonel Hunt, I'll be bound ! You've struck 
 us at the right time, too, young lady. Supper is 
 waiting such as it is ! As soon as that is over, 
 we'll saddle up and start. Ez for yourself, I can send 
 you back by the night-coach thet passes Thompson's 
 Kanch about an hour from now, I reckon." 
 
 But here he paused, at a gesture of dissent from 
 Cynthia, who had taken the bridle of "Pepita" and 
 was already leading her into the grove. 
 
 " Send me back by the night-coach ! " she re- 
 peated, glancing at him and knitting her brows. 
 "Thank you, sir, I'm not to be disposed of so easily. 
 I have friends at the Post, and reckon they'll be will- 
 ing to take care of- me to-night. At any rate, I'll 
 ask 'em. If you can give me a fresh horse, and it's 
 all the same to you, Colonel Hunt, I reckon I'll ride 
 along, too."
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 185 
 
 The tall ranger captain looked down at the resolu- 
 tion of the pale face lifted to his in the moonlight. 
 The admiration that he felt for this Amazonian ut- 
 terance shone in his face and glistened in his eyes. 
 But the colonel's speech, like that of many decisive 
 natures, was homely, and the tenor of his thought 
 was not borne out by his words. He stared blankly 
 at the surrounding trees, as if for confirmation of his 
 own surprise. Apparently having received the assur- 
 ance he desired, he shook his head and remarked, 
 emphatically, " Well, Pll le Uowed !" 
 
 With this characteristic utterance he quietly re- 
 entered the grove.
 
 xin. 
 
 THE full moon in meridian splendor shone calmly 
 down at Bradford Post. The little plateau on which 
 the frontier fort was placed stood out above the out- 
 lying country with all the distinctness of day. Seen 
 from that elevated point, the waters of the Big and 
 Little Fury glittered to their confluence at the base 
 of the height ; the bridge at the crossing shone black 
 among the trees ; and even the distant roofs of the 
 town of Joaquin were clearly visible. The moonlight 
 flooded everything within the Post itself, steeping 
 the three sides of the level square, illuminating the 
 low barracks of the soldiers and the adobe dwellings 
 of the officers opposite, and slipping ghost-like from 
 the white flag-staff, which seemed to stretch a spectral 
 finger to the stars. It wanted yet two hours of mid- 
 night, but the lights were out which, earlier in the 
 evening, had flickered in the various quarters. So 
 gracious was the night, it seemed to breathe a beni- 
 son upon the slumbers of the quiet garrison. 
 
 Yet there was commotion at Bradford Post not 
 within the confines of the fort itself, nor in the moon- 
 lit spaces of the level square, but far in the rear of 
 the soldiers' barracks, where a small, low stone build- 
 ing stood with barred door and grated windows. A
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 187 
 
 crowd of fifty or sixty men were collected about this 
 structure, conversing in low tones and excitedly run- 
 ning from window to window. As they moved to 
 and fro, the rays of the moon flashed upon muskets 
 and accoutrements. They were the soldiers of For- 
 aker's company, ripe for insurrection over the death 
 of their chief ; and the building about which they 
 were gathered was the military jail of Bradford 
 Post. 
 
 Trouble had been brewing since early morning. 
 With the arrival of Sheriff Mosely and his prisoners, 
 the news of the tragedy at San Marcus had spread 
 like wild-fire through the camp. Foraker s men re- 
 ceived the intelligence sullenly, but with evident sus- 
 picion of foul play. The dead captain had been popu- 
 lar with his company, which included the most reck- 
 less and desperate of the soldiers at the fort. There 
 were among them certain dissipated spirits who cher- 
 ished a lively admiration for the hardihood and noto- 
 rious reputation of their leader. Considerable curi- 
 osity had been expressed in regard to the man who 
 had seen fit to abbreviate so enviable a career. There 
 had been trips to the jail in consequence, and through- 
 out the day a crowd of eager faces had beset the win- 
 dows. In consequence of the absence of the presid- 
 ing justice, the time for a hearing in the case had been 
 set down for the following day. In the present state 
 of popular feeling, Sheriff Mosely had thought best to 
 confine the body of Bruce during the interval. He 
 had been obliged, therefore, to incarcerate him in the 
 single room of the jail in company with Lemuel Wick- 
 son. Through the heavily barred windows the forms 
 of the men could be dimly seen and even conversa-
 
 188 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 tion interchanged through an occasional broken 
 pane. 
 
 The soldiers had been in doubt, at first, as to which 
 of the two was responsible for the death of the cap- 
 tain. .Some vigorous personal criticism and animated 
 invective, delivered through the windows, elicited the 
 information required. Bruce had kept his own coun- 
 sel, while Mr. Lemuel Wickson had replied cheerfully 
 to this genial badinage. Being free to move about, 
 he gratified his resentment against Bruce for his capt- 
 ure, by going to the window and giving whispered 
 and startling accounts of the killing of Foraker. It 
 appeared from these vivid word-pictures that the ex- 
 horse-thief had been an eye-witness to the tragedy. 
 His imagination was entirely responsible for his facts. 
 Yet so cleverly did he work upon the excited sympa- 
 thies of the indignant company, that by nightfall it 
 was generally believed that Foraker had been butch- 
 ered in cold blood while drunk and asleep. It was 
 doubtful whether during the interval Mr. "Wickson, 
 by the invention of local color and realistic detail, 
 had not persuaded himself of the truth of his state- 
 ments. Sheriff Mosely and one deputy mounted 
 guard during the day, and interposed a spirited but 
 ineffectual denial to this version of the affair. Some 
 local disturbance in the town of Joaquin had unfor- 
 tunately necessitated the absence of Jake Sharp. 
 
 As the afternoon wore awaj 7 , the feeling of ani- 
 mosity against Bruce grew more expressive and vio- 
 lent. The crowd of loungers about the jail increased. 
 Personal abuse of the prisoner was indulged in at the 
 windows, and even threats of violence were openly 
 heard. Some of the boldest went so far as to counsel
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 189 
 
 Wickson to kill Bruce, declaring, with a mob's ready 
 acceptance of responsibility, that they would "stand 
 by him." 
 
 Mr. Wickson had expressed, in words, a cordial 
 willingness to comply with these requests, but when 
 it came to deeds, had shown a singular reluctance. 
 He alleged as the reason for this delay the fact that 
 he had no weapon ; but, as Bruce himself was un- 
 armed, this statement was hardly pertinent. How 
 far he was influenced by a certain cold glitter in the 
 latter's eye did not transpire. The fact remains that 
 he listened quietly to the urgent but impracticable 
 advice of the soldiers to "cut the tenderfoot's heart 
 out," to "throw the stove on him," and other uncon- 
 sidered suggestions that were rained upon him all the 
 afternoon. But at nightfall Mr. "Wickson was still 
 conspicuously doing nothing. 
 
 Then came a lull ; the men dispersed for supper. 
 Sheriff Mosely availed himself of the interval to send 
 a message of the state of things to the colonel at the 
 fort, a message which that worthy unaccountably saw 
 fit to disregard. 
 
 After this he loaded his extra pistols, and with- 
 drew with "Humly Jim" to the little guard-room 
 behind the outer door. Here he had recourse to 
 his pocket-flask and philosophically awaited develop- 
 ments. 
 
 "I allow," he said, quietly, to his only remain- 
 ing deputy, after participating with him in this re- 
 freshment, "thet we don't get through this night's 
 bizness, natch'ally, without suthin' of a row ; but 
 whatever happens, Jim, Ike Mosely don't reckon on 
 bein' either euchred or bluffed. I don't propose to
 
 190 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 let Lem, thar, git out, and they can't have Henry 
 Bruce except over my dead body. Savey thet?" 
 
 The deputy did. 
 
 "Now, what I expect of you, Jim," continued 
 Ike, "is what I allers get cVar grit and nothin' 
 else." 
 
 He leaned forward and gripped his ill - favored 
 comrade's hand as he said this. The two men ex- 
 changed glances. 
 
 "Ef they start to break in here to-night, I'll draw 
 them fastenings," pointing to the iron door that led 
 into the room where the prisoners were confined, 
 "and call on Henry Bruce. We two '11 keep this 
 place against all coiners or die together, you can take 
 my word for thet ! Your bizness '11 be to go in thar 
 and hold thet tarrier, Wickson, and prevent his git- 
 tin' out. Ef he makes a break or acts anyway ob- 
 strep'rous, shoot him jest the same ez ye would a 
 jack-rabbit. Thar ain't no other way with sich cat- 
 tle. He's more'n half responsible for the trouble 
 we're goin' to git to-night, and I only wish my 'six- 
 shooter' hed sorter gone off by accident on the way 
 up here. It would have saved my conscience consid- 
 er'ble wear and tear. Ez it is now, I'm about eat up 
 with remorse." 
 
 As the shadows of evening drew around the jail, 
 the sheriff's forebodings seemed at first without foun- 
 dation. With the beating of "taps," lights vanished 
 at the fort, the sounds of frontier discipline were 
 hushed, and the camp apparently sank to repose. De- 
 ceived by this absence of hostilities, the solitary depu- 
 ty dozed on a bench of the low corridor. Only Ike 
 Mosely remained alert and vigilant.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 191 
 
 The moonbeams, stealing through the barred grat- 
 ing of the roof, were falling almost vertically upon 
 the stone pavement at his feet, when his quick ear 
 caught the sound of voices. Drawing a narrow slide 
 in the outer door, he peered through its semicircular 
 guard. A crowd of men were collected in front of the 
 jail. They were conversing together in low tones. In 
 the light of the moon the sheriff recognized several of 
 the most desperate of Foraker's men. One burly fel- 
 low held in his hand a coil of rope. Closing the slide 
 cautiously, he roused his companion and examined 
 his pistols. A second later, the jail-door vibrated 
 with a blow struck upon it by some heavy object from 
 without. 
 
 "Who's there ?" demanded Mosely, at the slide. 
 
 " Come, come, Ike Mosely," replied a loud voice, 
 which the sheriff instantly recognized as the sergeant 
 of Foraker's men ; " this ain't no game of bluff. 
 We're here for bizness, and we want you to open up." 
 
 " P'raps you'll state your reasons for gittin' in, 
 before I give ye the privilege," responded Mosely. 
 
 " Wai, yes, we don't mind, seein' we're comin' in, 
 whether you're willin' or not," responded the voice. 
 "We're goin' to hang that damned tenderfoot, you've 
 got in there, to the highest tree in the Post. That's 
 what we're going to do ! So we tell you to open up ! " 
 
 " Oh, ye are?" said Ike, tauntingly. " Mebbe 
 you reckon that I'll set quietly by and see you do all 
 thet ? Now, I'm givin' it to you straight, what you 
 kin expect ef you try on anything of the kind. Thar's 
 two of us, here, and we'll kill every mother's son of ye 
 thet gets in, ez sure ez there's a living God ! " 
 
 A blow from the outside was the only response.
 
 192 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Thet's right ! " shouted Ike, as a second blow 
 caused the door to spring on its hinges. " The sooner 
 ye make a hole through thet partition, the more likely 
 I am to reach ye ! " 
 
 He emphasized the remark by drawing the slide 
 and discharging his revolver through the aperture. A 
 yell, and a sudden shuffling of feet without greeted 
 the shot. 
 
 For a time all was quiet. Mosely drew the slide 
 again, and reconnoitred. The result was apparently 
 not satisfactory. He snapped the catch back sud- 
 denly, and turned sharply upon " Humly Jim." 
 
 " It's jest ez I reckoned," he said, quietly ; " they're 
 comin' back agin, and, this time, they've got a timber 
 with 'em, and thet door is goin' in. I reckon it's high 
 time for us to make a division of forces." 
 
 He drew the bolts on the inner door, as he spoke. 
 
 " Call him," he whispered. 
 
 ''Humly Jim" complied. A second later Bruce 
 stepped through the opening. The deputy grasped 
 his revolvers, and disappeared within. Ike Mosely 
 turned and faced the ranchman in the moonlight. 
 
 "Pardner," he said, placing his hands upon his 
 shoulders, and gazing into his eyes, "ye don't need 
 me to tell ye, thet this'll be a close call for you and 
 me, and mebbe one or both of us is goin' home. But, 
 by the living God ! I'm here to tell ye, thet thar's no 
 man I'd rather fight for, or die alongside !" 
 
 He pressed a pair of " six-shooters" into his com- 
 panion's hands, as he spoke. 
 
 " Now then," he said, setting his square shoulder 
 against the shoulder of Bruce, and cocking his pistols, 
 "let 'em come on, damn 'em ! They'll find they've
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 193 
 
 got more than they bargained for, or else I've forgot- 
 ten how to shoot !" 
 
 A rush from without drowned his words, as a blow, 
 delivered with the force of a battering-ram, caused 
 the door to leap inward. A shower of dust and plas- 
 tering fell to the floor. A second rush and shock fol- 
 lowed. The door fell from its hinges with a crash, 
 and the moon shone boldly in and streamed upon the 
 stone pavement. Bruce and Mosely retreated into 
 the shadows of the doorway. Here, unseen by those 
 without, they covered the entrance with their cocked 
 revolvers. The moonlight flashed coldly on the glis- 
 tening barrels, full in the sight of an excited crowd of 
 men poising a heavy beam. 
 
 A moment's pause ensued. The soldiers, thinking 
 that the weapons were those of the sheriff and his 
 deputy, and that Bruce was in the interior of the jail, 
 were averse to unnecessary bloodshed. At this instant 
 there was a crash of musketry in the rear, accom- 
 panied by the jingling of glass and the whistling of 
 bullets. The leader of the party held up his hand to 
 parley. 
 
 " I reckon you hear that, Ike Mosely," he said, 
 with an oath. "The boys are rakin' your lock-up 
 from the windows. You might ez well hand that fel- 
 ler over quiej; and peaceable, before they take him out 
 a corpse. We've sworn to string him up, and, ez 
 we're ten to your one, ye might as well be sensible and 
 give in." 
 
 "You think so, do you?" retorted the sheriff, 
 
 through his set teeth. " I'll let you know / think 
 
 different ! I'll allow thet me and Jim can't hold but 
 
 one end of this jail, but thet's about what we calcu- 
 
 13
 
 194 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 late to do. Of course, ef you kill him in the mean 
 time, I ain't responsible, but the first man of you thet 
 steps across thet door-sill is gone in I give you thet 
 flat ! " 
 
 The sheriff had hardly spoken, when the door of 
 the inner room swung quickly back, and "Humly 
 Jim " appeared. He was not visible to the throng 
 without. Closing the door behind him, he leaned 
 against it. His voice came distinctly to the ears of 
 Mosely and Bruce. 
 
 " Thar ain't no use for me to put in any more 
 time in thar," he said, slowly. " Thar ain't no pris- 
 oner to guard. Leastwise, none thet's likely to git 
 away. Thet last volley settled Lena's account for 
 good and all, I reckon. The durned idgits killed the 
 wrong man ! P'raps, thet bein' the case, you've got 
 more use for me here in front. " 
 
 Mosely was about to whisper some hurried com- 
 mand to his deputy, when a second volley crashed 
 through the inner room, splintering the wood-work 
 and beams. The sounds of this terrific fusillade had 
 not entirely ceased, before a sudden noise, borne on 
 the night wind, came to their ears from without. A 
 loud rumble, as of distant thunder, shook the earth, 
 and the windows of the jail rattled with a strong vi- 
 bratory tremor. The crowd about the shattered door 
 turned in surprise. A clear, ringing cheer burst sud- 
 denly upon the still night. There were the sound of 
 galloping hoofs and the murmur of many voices, and 
 with a sudden rush and tumult a mounted cavalcade 
 swept round the jail, the moonlight flashing upon 
 their brandished rifles. In an instant the building 
 was surrounded.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 195 
 
 The leader of the party charged the group of sol- 
 diers before the doorway at a gallop, reining up his 
 horse so fiercely that the hoofs of the animal struck 
 fire in the resisting gravel. 
 
 "Fall back!" shouted the imperative voice of 
 Colonel Hunt. " Clear out, now, all of you, and dis- 
 perse ! This business has gone far enough." 
 
 At the sharp command, Foraker's men, realizing 
 they were now between two fires, scattered in all di- 
 rections. The soldiers in the rear of the jail were as 
 quickly routed. Hardly three minutes elapsed before 
 the horseman threw himself from the saddle, and, strid- 
 ing over the fallen door, entered the corridor. 
 
 " Just in time, Ike, to put a stop to this yer fool- 
 ishness," he remarked, grasping the sheriff by the 
 hand. 
 
 " Not much too late, Bill, thet's a fact," replied 
 Mosely, returning the greeting. " 'Pon my word, 
 colonel, I rather looked for somethin' of a scrimmage, 
 but this sudden freak o' yours for a moonlight pasear 
 sorter took the sand out o' them sojers, natch'ally, 
 didn't it ? What angel sent you down our way at this 
 hour of the night?" 
 
 Colonel William Hunt removed his hat, and the 
 moonlight shone full upon his serious face. 
 
 "You've struck it, Mosely!" he said, solemnly. 
 "An out-and-out angel and no mistake ! I ain't no 
 call to take to myself any credit for this yer night's 
 business. It all belongs to a woman a little gal ez 
 galloped ten miles to bring me word, and. notwith- 
 standing, hez rid with us every step of the way, and 
 put the blush to every man in my troop a gal ez 
 I'd bank on ag'in half the men I ever see, and who's
 
 196 A XYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 too good a durned sight for the best man in the 
 State!" 
 
 And, even at this moment, pale, breathless, and 
 disheveled, Cynthia Dallas staggered trembling to the 
 doorway, and sank fainting on the threshold.
 
 XIV. 
 
 WITH the arrival of the rangers and their armed 
 investment of the jail at Bradford Post, the open 
 animosity against Henry Bruce vanished. Such was 
 the awe inspired by these frontier police, that no fur- 
 ther attempt at outbreak followed. At nine o'clock 
 of the following day, a mounted escort accompanied 
 Bruce to the court-house, and a preliminary examina- 
 tion was held. Phil Kernochan had arrived during 
 the night, bringing with him Judge Natchez, the 
 ablest lawyer of the circuit. The prisoner found 
 himself surrounded by influential counsel and friends. 
 
 The presiding justice conducted the proceedings 
 with that perfect impartiality and absence of judicial 
 dignity for which he was noted. With his hat on 
 the back of his head, a short, black pipe in his mouth, 
 and untrammeled by coat, cravat, or collar, he lent 
 himself seriously to the gravity of the occasion. A. 
 proposal, on the part of the prosecuting attorney, to 
 adjourn court until they had shared the hospitality 
 of the neighboring- saloon, was frowned upon severely 
 by this Texan Rhadamanthus. The district attorney 
 was a bosom friend of Foraker, and hostile to Bruce. 
 
 How far the judicial mind may have been influ- 
 enced by this significant fact, by the sullen presence
 
 198 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 of the more disaffected of Foraker's men in the court- 
 room, and by the armed demonstration of the night 
 before, it is impossible to determine. Judge Pember- 
 ton smoked, alike impassively, through the eloquent 
 argument of the prisoner's counsel and the fiery ap- 
 peal of the State's representative. But, on motion 
 of Judge Natchez to release Bruce on bail, he cheer- 
 fully acquiesced. He further agreed to the applica- 
 tion for a change of venue, holding that the present 
 state of popular feeling was hardly conducive to that 
 calmness of deliberation which the law prescribes. 
 
 His Honor's phraseology is necessarily lost in the 
 above paraphrase. He said, I believe, that he " wasn't 
 tryin' no case, in no place, where everybody was dead 
 sot on hangiu' the prisoner first, and holdin' court 
 arterwards." But, doubtless, the legal principle of 
 abstract justice was implied in this Lone Star dictum. 
 The trial was set down for the first week in Septem- 
 ber, at the neighboring county-seat of Oskaloo. 
 
 Sheriff Mosely was overjoyed at this decision. 
 
 " Why, thet's right whar I was born and brought 
 up," he said to Bruce, slapping him on the back 
 as they left the court -room. "I own thet place. 
 Yer hand, pardner ; I congratulate you on yer luck. 
 When the time comes round, I'll run down thar and 
 see ef I can't scare up a reasonable, fa'r-minded, and 
 oupreju diced jury, ez'll view this business in a true 
 and holy light." 
 
 The confidence of Bruce in his eventual acquittal, 
 united to his own conviction of the justice of his 
 cause, was naturally increased by this reassuring state- 
 ment. 
 
 None the less did Phil Kernochan relax his exer-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 199 
 
 
 
 tions in his partner's behalf. He consulted earnestly 
 with Colonel Hunt, who, with a party of his men, 
 conducted them back to the " Mesquite Valley Eanch. " 
 Judge Natchez a man of wide experience in Texan 
 practice and pleading outlined several modes of ac- 
 tion, but was inclined to lay considerable stress upon 
 Sheriff Mosely's co-operation, and suggested that Mr. 
 Buck Jerrold be approached as a possible valuable ally. 
 Accordingly, a few days later, Kernochan rode over 
 to the latter's ranch and held a conference with that 
 gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Jerrold had been already importuned in be- 
 half of Henry Bruce. He had paid a visit to the 
 Dallas Eanch, the previous evening, and had heard 
 from Cynthia's own lips an account of the storming 
 of the jail at Bradford Post, and the rescue that fol- 
 lowed. So pathetically had Cynthia wrought upon 
 the sympathies of her auditor, that Jerrold had been 
 unable to resist the appeal. It was, perhaps, proof 
 positive of the cow-man's love for Miss Dallas and his 
 own generosity of soul, that he promised his assist- 
 ance, although in giving it he was aware that he stood 
 in his own light. 
 
 He received Kernochan with that gravity of de- 
 meanor for which he was noted, tempered, possibly, 
 with a certain resignation which, under the circum- 
 stances, increased the latter's good opinion. Ker- 
 nochan unfolded his errand in a few words. Buck 
 Jerrold filled his pipe, lighted it, and, seating himself 
 on a nail-keg in the door-yard, reviewed the situation 
 solemnly as follows : 
 
 " Thar ain't but one argyment to bring to bear on 
 the town of Oskaloo," he said, deliberately, crossing
 
 200 -A- NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 
 
 his legs "and thet's whisky ! I've been down thar, 
 off and on, for the last ten years, and I never knew 
 anythin' else to carry conviction in thet thrivin' set- 
 tlement onless it was a 'six-shooter,' and even then, 
 I reckon, whisky 'd stand the best show. Ye see," 
 he said, pulling at the straps of his heavy boots, and 
 glancing at them, as if for inspiration, " the poppy la- 
 tion is thet rigid and narrer-minded, that it needs 
 suthin' of thet nature to get the milk o' human kind- 
 ness to flow. They want suthin' to start 'em! I've 
 seen 'free whisky in the back room,' at Oskaloo, do 
 more for bizness on a cash basis, than low prices and 
 onlimited credit. It's the same way with lawin'. I 
 ain't no drinkin' man, Mr. Kernochan, ez you know ; 
 I don't drink, because because " said Mr. Jerrold, 
 reflectively, raising his eyes to Kernochan and delib- 
 erately closing one quietly " because I don't. But I 
 recognizes the value of licker in makin' an idee popu- 
 lar, and, so to speak, creatin' a majority. Ef I could 
 go down thar, now, in the interests of justice, and jest 
 float the town ; jest play the millionaire and do the 
 generous thing it might cost you suthin' but I 
 reckon I reckon " said Mr. Jerrold, cautiously 
 " we might get an honorable and squar deal, even in 
 thet benighted settlement. 
 
 "It's ag'in the natur o' things," continued Mr. 
 Jerrold, " to look for favorable results on any other 
 ground. Them fellers down thet way, I reckon, are 
 what Parson Centrefitt calls * pestimists'' they're 
 malarial in their tastes, and they'd get things crooked 
 on gen'ral principles. Accordin' to their view, every- 
 thing is cross-grained from the start. They jest 
 natch 'ally look at things on the bias so to speak.
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 201 
 
 They'd allow, for instance, thet Henry Bruce laved 
 all night for Foraker, out on the San Marcus road ; 
 thet he rounded him up, and started him on the 'long 
 trail,' because he was stampedin' his plans and pros- 
 pects. Thet's what they'd ha' done, and thet's the 
 way they'd look at it. You and me knows different 
 thet it was done in self-defense. But it'll need ju- 
 dicious maniperJatin' to make 'em thet liberal-minded, 
 and to git 'em at all charitably disposed. They must 
 be elevated to thet p'iut. Then ye'll git justice. Their 
 moral natur sorter leaves off where the rest of us begin." 
 
 He paused, and looked seriously at Kernochan to 
 note the effect of his words. Evidently gathering 
 that, from his visitor's previous opinion of the town 
 of Oskaloo, his logic was beginning to tell on him, 
 he summed up his position in a few words : 
 
 "Ef I rec'lect, I was a leetle onsettled myself, 
 thet night, in San Marcus, and I ain't no way sartin 
 thet Henry Bruce didn't take a gratifyin' contract off 
 my hands. You go to work, Mr. Kernochan, and 
 engage the best lawyers and argifyers the State can 
 produce. Them'll be necessary, ez the prosecuting 
 attorney is dead ag'in ye from the fust. But, ez for 
 the Oskaloo part of the bizness, me and Ike Mosely'll 
 run thet. And I reckon," concluded Mr. Jerrold, 
 rising and permitting a grim smile to relax the cor- 
 ners of his mouth " I reckon the jury at thet trial 
 will le in competent hands." 
 
 Phil Kernochan rode back to his ranch, tinder the 
 impression that the difficulty of combating local pre- 
 judice at Oskaloo was materially lessening. But Mr. 
 Buck Jerrold was gloomy and dispirited all the aft- 
 ernoon.
 
 202 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 It was not long before the delight with which Miss 
 Stafford greeted the release of Henry Bruce gave place 
 to a very different state of mind. In the enthusiasm 
 of his return to the "Mesquite Valley Ranch/' she 
 had detected no change in his manner toward her. 
 Accustomed from infancy to her own way, the idea of a 
 rival, in the regard she unquestionably manifested for 
 the young ranchman, had, probably^ never seriously 
 crossed her mind. She had accepted the interest of 
 Bruce complacently, laid claim to his attentions, as if 
 by a species of divine right, and exhibited toward 
 him a certain air of proprietorship, with the presump- 
 tion of the sex when conscious of its attractions. To 
 quote the words of Judge Natchez, who was, for pro- 
 fessional reasons, some time a guest at the " Mesquite 
 Valley Ranch," the young lady's attitude toward 
 Henry Bruce was that of the " holder of a first-mort- 
 gage bond, wherein the equity was decidedly micro- 
 scopic." 
 
 Miss Stafford very soon awoke to an intelligent 
 distrust of her position, and then to a conviction that 
 her power was on the wane. Her mortification and 
 chagrin, to find herself supplanted by one whom her 
 pride, in no sense, recognized as an equal, can well be 
 imagined. 
 
 Perhaps the first intimation that Edith received 
 of a change in Bruce was in his manner of receiving 
 her slighting allusions and half-contemptuous men- 
 tion of Miss Dallas. Originally, he had passed these 
 over with the good-humored cynicism of a man of 
 the world. But, now, anything of the sort plainly 
 irritated him, and persistence in the matter provoked 
 a retort, or possibly a sudden sarcasm. With singular
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 203 
 
 infelicity of epithet, Miss Stafford had characterized 
 Cynthia's devotion to Bruce, during his imprison- 
 ment, as "kind" "really quite what one would 
 have expected a girl of her surroundings to have 
 done." 
 
 It will be understood that Bruce having passed 
 his early life amid the same surroundings as Miss 
 Stafford, and not having found the modern society 
 belle particularly generous or self-sacrificing cher- 
 ished a different sentiment. 
 
 His old interest in Cynthia the interest that he 
 had felt since that first day, when she had peeped 
 down upon him in the gloomy chasm, with her fra- 
 grant suggestions of hemlock and pine woke anew 
 in his heart, and with it a sense of gratitude, from 
 which, I trust, mankind, in the rarity of feminine 
 constancy, is not entirely exempt. This interest deep- 
 ened as the spring advanced and the season slipped 
 into summer. He grew quite in the habit of riding 
 over to the Dallas Eanch and passing the morning 
 in Cynthia's society. Here, although he persuaded 
 himself that his attitude toward the young lady was 
 merely such as a brother might assume toward an 
 affectionate sister, he was often astounded to discover 
 with what winged feet the hours flew overhead, and 
 that familiar objects took on a sudden association and 
 charm from the witchery of her company. 
 
 It was, doubtless, this brotherly interest in Miss 
 Dallas that prompted Henry Bruce to instruct her 
 upon the guitar an instrument singularly calculated 
 to overcome shyness and restraint between persons of 
 the opposite sex, and as such to be commended. If, 
 while thus employed, Cynthia found herself sitting,
 
 204: A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 at times, very near Bruce, and their fingers danger- 
 ously involved, in compelling melody from the re- 
 fractory strings, it was unquestionably due to her 
 anxiety to become a proficient performer. And if, 
 while playing some chord or explaining some accom- 
 paniment, there stole into the gentleman's face an 
 expression, so winning and tender that the girl's 
 sweet eyes grew downcast and tremulous, it was the 
 zeal of the instructor, doubtless, that prompted this. 
 Certainly, for its opportunities and possibilities, the 
 light guitar has reason to be appreciated ; and there 
 slumbers in its strings a sympathy that proves a 
 powerful ally to sentiment. 
 
 Howbeit, whatever may have been the experience 
 of her companion, Cynthia learned little from the 
 instrument of which her heart had not been eloquent 
 before. But she acquired a certain dainty dexterity, 
 and as this musical intercourse gave rise to much con- 
 versation and confidential disclosure, it was not long 
 before Bruce was well acquainted with all her girlish 
 dreams and fancies except one, in regard to which 
 Cynthia said nothing, but preserved the evasive silence 
 of womankind. 
 
 It shone in her eyes that kindled at his coming ; 
 in the quick color that mounted to her cheek at his 
 approach ; in the sudden delicious tremor that seized 
 her when he drew near ; and the indescribable thrill 
 that set her heart to throbbing whenever his hand 
 touched hers. In place of that dejection that once 
 oppressed her, a glad gayety and light-heartedness at- 
 tended all her movements. Joy laughed in the sun- 
 light and mirth came to her on the wings of the wind. 
 The breeze that rocked the tree-tops of her bower,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 205 
 
 letting slip bright shafts of light to stray within, set 
 her all unconsciously to singing. 
 
 Old man Dallas noted the change, and grew re- 
 served and thoughtful. After Cynthia's daring ride 
 to Bradford Post, he had taken occasion to read his 
 charming daughter a long homily on the "danger of 
 young women showin' all to onct how much store 
 they set by any young feller." According to Alcides, 
 it was the duty of the sex to "setback and let things 
 hump themselves according to their natch'ral course." 
 Cynthia had accepted this rebuke meekly. She was 
 now uniformly affectionate to her father. 
 
 " I reckon them new bonnets she was talk in' about 
 must have got up to San Marcus," remarked this cau- 
 tious skeptic, who was inclined to refer all feminine 
 advances to mercenary motives. Finding, however, 
 that his daughter's caresses were quite gratuitous, he 
 shook his head gravely with renewed distrust. It was 
 only after a doleful rehearsal upon his fiddle of his 
 symphony to "Married Life," that he appeared to 
 have pierced the heart of the mystery. 
 
 It was about this time that Miss Stafford ceased 
 to allude to the frequency of the visits paid Miss Dal- 
 las by Henry Bruce ; it was about this time that she be- 
 came apparently unaware that any such young woman 
 existed ; it was about this time that she began to drop 
 stray hints in regard to certain admirers at the North, 
 for whom she cherished an extravagant interest an 
 interest which speedily began to manifest itself in cor- 
 respondence ; it was about this time that she gave out 
 that these parties were importuning her greatly to 
 return home ; but before doing so, she meditated a 
 coup d'etat by which she trusted to wring the heart
 
 206 A NYMPH OP THE WEST. 
 
 of her rival, and, if possible, "lure this tassel gentle 
 back again." 
 
 Meanwhile, all unconsciously the summer waxed 
 and waned. Days of endless blue and staring sun- 
 light dropped the green mantle from the hills, re- 
 placing it with the tawny robe the sirocco lends. At 
 times the cool night-breezes brought with them a train 
 of mists that held a ghostly dance beneath the moon, 
 but fled dismayed at early morning and trooped for- 
 lornly through the valleys, routed by the fiery sun. 
 Dust lay upon the spiny links and flaming blossoms 
 of the cactus. The waters fled away, trailing a long 
 skeleton of stones across the parching landscape. The 
 wild doves beset the wasting pools, lamenting the 
 eternal drought with their mournful cooing, and the 
 red deer grew tamer than the cattle of the plains from 
 very thirst. And so the summer days passed by ; until 
 September came, and with it the momentous trial at 
 Oskaloo.
 
 XV. 
 
 THE site of the town of Oskaloo was largely re- 
 sponsible for the unfortunate reputation of its in- 
 habitants. Its surroundings were malarial. The 
 village lay in a low, marshy district, encircled on 
 three sides by a stagnant stream. A damp, offensive, 
 depressing mist crept in at evening to brood above its 
 silent streets, and distribute fever and ague with a 
 generous hand. The only avenue of escape from this 
 plague-infested cul-de-sac was the trail road which led 
 undeviatingly out of town to the prairies and hills 
 beyond. It was, therefore, with a feeling of misgiving 
 that the wary traveler descended it. A similar senti- 
 ment prompted sojourners in that "happy valley" to 
 decorate trees and bowlders by the wayside with warn- 
 ing placards and inscriptions. " Sacred to the mem- 
 ory of Ayer's Pills " was the flying testimony of one 
 unfortunate. 
 
 Perhaps it was in consequence of these depressing at- 
 mospheric conditions that stimulating beverages were 
 appreciated at Oskaloo. It would seem that an im- 
 pression existed that the visible population varied di- 
 rectly in proportion to the presence and availability 
 of something to drink.
 
 208 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 " There didn't seem to be enough citizens about 
 to justify an enterprisin' census clerk," Judge Natchez 
 had remarked to Sheriff Mosely, after a preliminary 
 visit. "Has there been an earthquake, or an epi- 
 demic, or what ? " 
 
 " I reckon not," Mosely rejoined, with a humor- 
 ous twinkle of the eye, " but I'll allow, jedge, ye 
 didn't give the boys any encouragement. Now, ef 
 you'd a-thought to set out a pail of old rye and a tin 
 dipper on thet thar stump in front of the blacksmith's 
 shop, you'd ha' seen a constitooency, to onct, thet 
 would ha' gladdened yer eyes. It's my opinion," the 
 sheriff continued, in easy disparagement of his birth- 
 place, "thet's about the only way an accurate and 
 satisfyin' census of the poppylation of Oskaloo can be 
 took." 
 
 Although the particular stump in front of the 
 blacksmith's shop, referred to by Mr. Mosely, was va- 
 cant on the morning of the 5th of September, the 
 crowded condition of the main street justified the 
 suspicion that some similar attraction was in the 
 neighborhood. The additional fact that the temper 
 of the gathering was genial, strengthened this opinion. 
 "When it is added that actual hilarity and mirth pre- 
 vailed in the vicinity of a certain saloon which Mr. 
 Buck Jerrold had recently made his headquarters, the 
 situation will not admit of further doubt. 
 
 The fact was, a phenomenon had occurred at Os- 
 kaloo. For the first time within the memory of the 
 oldest inhabitant, unlimited refreshment for the inner 
 man had been available to combat the ills of a long 
 and soul-subduing summer. It had been customary, 
 twice in every year, for local dealers to encourage
 
 A NYMPH OF TIIE WEST. 209 
 
 trade by a judicious display, in front of their shops, 
 of the seductive legend, " Whisky Free in the Back 
 Eoom." But the inducement was offered to the pur- 
 chaser, and not gratuitously to the general public. 
 Now, however, this generous hospitality was within 
 the reach of all. With the arrival of Mr. Jerrold, a 
 hogshead of spirits was immediately put on tap at the 
 "Long Divide Tavern" a facetious title, supposed 
 to refer to the previous infrequency of drinks at that 
 well-known hostelry and immediate patronage in* 
 vited. Need it be said that the response was prompt ? 
 The luckless citizens, living face to face with bilious 
 fever, and a complaint, popularly known as " dumb 
 ager," rallied at the call as at the sound of a clarion. 
 
 Nor only in the town itself the news spread 
 like wild-fire, and seemed to appeal directly to a long- 
 felt want in outlying camps. For several days a non- 
 descript throng of horsemen and pedestrians poured 
 into Oskaloo, cheerfully unmindful of the wayside 
 warnings already noticed. Even "Peter the Her- 
 mit," an aged vagabond, who, in company with two 
 mangy, yellow dogs, dwelt on a lonely divide outside 
 the settlement, found something in the announcement 
 that dispelled his asceticism. He was discovered that 
 morning, stumping along pensively on his crutches in 
 eager haste to the village. Eventually he turned up 
 at the tavern, in company with his four-footed com- 
 panions, and, by a course of grotesque but hearty dis- 
 sipation, brought disgrace upon his brotherhood and 
 the apparent contempt of his two dogs. 
 
 It was frankly announced by Mr. Jerrold albeit 
 without the knowledge of Henry Bruce that the 
 "flow of soul," thus inaugurated at Oskaloo, was en- 
 14
 
 210 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 tirely at the expense of the prisoner at the bar. It 
 was even suggested that this generosity was a gratui- 
 tous tribute, on his part, to the esteem in which he held 
 the inhabitants. There was a transparency about this 
 statement, in view of the coming trial, which was 
 ingenuous and charming. Howbeit, the potency of 
 the tribute seemed to disarm criticism. A strong un- 
 dercurrent of sympathy was apparent in favor of the 
 prisoner. He was regarded in the light of a public 
 benefactor. When this opinion began to manifest 
 itself openly, the district attorney made an effort for 
 impartiality by attempting to impanel a jury, and 
 hold them aloof from the spirit of philanthropy which 
 was becoming epidemic. He was met by a singular 
 obstacle. Fully one half of the citizens of Oskaloo 
 volunteered their services as jurymen ! At this un- 
 heard-of proposition the legal gentleman permitted 
 matters to take their own course. 
 
 Mosely did not hesitate to contribute his quota to 
 the favorable opinion. This was by a graphic and 
 thrilling account of the trick performed by Bruce 
 with the " Smith and Wesson " revolver at the San 
 Marcus ball. To have heard the sheriff describe this 
 episode was worth a hard day's riding ; to have seen 
 the rapt attention and appreciation of his auditors, a 
 much longer journey, So far from prejudicing the 
 popular feeling toward Bruce in regard to the killing 
 of Foraker, it gave an impression of proficiency with 
 the pistol so remarkable as to amount almost to justi- 
 fication. It began to be believed that it would be 
 little short of a crime to deal harshly with one so 
 gifted. " Pulled thet ' barrel-catch ' slick and clean, 
 boys, and slung them cartridges right and left, so thet
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 21 1 
 
 Lem was nowhar 1 " Mr. Mosely repeated, illustrating 
 the act by practical manipulation of the deceased 
 horse-thief's weapon. An awe fell upon the company. 
 It was apparent that a hero in difficulties, and not a 
 man in jeopardy of his life, awaited the respectful 
 consideration of the citizens of Oskaloo. 
 
 When, therefore, Phil Kernochan arrived, bring- 
 ing with him Henry Bruce, Judge Natchez, and 
 Colonel Hunt, who, with a few of his troops, had 
 joined them in the interests of order and justice, 
 there was a rush to see the prisoner, and something 
 like a public demonstration attempted. Colonel Bill 
 Furey, the prosecuting attorney, viewed this proceed- 
 ing with ill-favor. He glanced appealingly at Judge 
 Pemberton, who had dismounted from his buggy, 
 and, leaning upon the wheel, was placidly smoking 
 his cigar in conversation with the sheriff. The ac- 
 tion recalled that worthy. He threw aside his cigar, 
 and at once led the way to the court-house, With 
 shouts and much scrambling for first positions, the 
 disorderly crowd followed. 
 
 It was a hot day, and the little court-room wa3 
 soon crowded to suffocation. Nevertheless, in spite 
 of the discomfort of their surroundings, a singular 
 levity and good humor possessed the audience. No 
 sooner were the few chairs and benches exhausted, 
 than the throng cheerfully availed themselves of the 
 floor and window-sills of the court. Here, packed in 
 on every side like sardines, they evinced the liveliest 
 interest in the proceedings. A disposition was ap- 
 parent to assist the lawyers in selecting the jury. As 
 each man's name was called, he was greeted with cheers 
 and cries of encouragement, and any reluctance to
 
 212 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 serve provoked a storm of opposition. Under these 
 circumstances the preliminary business of the trial 
 was not transacted without some delay and irritation 
 on the part of judge and lawyers. By the time the 
 jury were sworn, his Honor had worn himself out 
 in his efforts to preserve order, and the audience had 
 shouted itself hoarse in abuse and personalities. A 
 feeling of exhaustion supervened. It was apparent 
 that something must be done. When, therefore, the 
 prisoner's counsel rose in his place to address the 
 court, he received the attention of all present. 
 
 "Your Honor," said Judge Natchez, mopping his 
 heated brow with a red bandanna handkerchief, and 
 regarding the flushed features of the justice, who sat 
 indignant, arbitrary, and collarless, at the head of the 
 long table that answered for the judicial bench, "be- 
 fore proceeding to trial, I would state that the per- 
 liminaries of this case have been powerful tedious, 
 and I submit that the gravity of the indictment 
 necesaitates that this court adjourn and take a 
 drink." 
 
 There was a dead silence. All eyes were fastened 
 upon the judge. Wherein the situation differed from 
 a previous one, when he had withstood temptation 
 thus directly offered, I can not say. Perhaps the sti- 
 fling atmosphere may have been too much for his con- 
 science ; for, as a matter of fact, his Honor reached 
 silently for his hat, and, drawing it over his eyes, 
 started abruptly for the door. His example was fol- 
 lowed. In precisely three minutes after this popular 
 proposal of the prisoner's counsel, the court-room was 
 vacant. 
 
 It appeared subsequently that, during this inter-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 213 
 
 val, a singular rivalry was manifested between Mr. 
 Buck Jerrold and Judge Natchez, at the bar of the 
 "Long Divide." It was in the matter of fortifying 
 the jury against the eloquence of opposing counsel. 
 The solicitude of both parties was great, and the ri- 
 valry keen so keen, in fact, that the "twelve good 
 men and true " grew mellow and philosophic under 
 treatment. Seeing which, Judge Pemberton felt 
 called upon at last to thump loudly on the bar with 
 his empty tumbler, and order a peremptory return to 
 the court-room. This being done, his Honor laid aside 
 his coat and vest, and, rising to his feet, addressed the 
 assembled court-room briefly. 
 
 " It appears," remarked Judge Pemberton, vaguely, 
 frowning darkly in evidence of the affront offered his 
 judicial dignity by recent events " it appears, that a 
 disposition is on foot to defeat the ends of justice by 
 tamperin' with this yer jury. What I knows, I knows, 
 and seen myself. It hez got to be stopped, or I'll 
 impose fines here for contempt of court, thet'll bank- 
 rupt the hull county to pay 'em ! Ez to how much 
 the counsel in this case, their friends, and the au- 
 dience, gener'ly, feel called upon to hoist, in order to 
 grapple with the case in hand, I hev nothin' to say. 
 Thet's their bizness. But thet thar jury is mine, and 
 I propose to run them myself. Sheriff Mosely, you 
 will quarantyne them twelve men durin' dinner, and 
 until they reach a vardict. I hold you pussonally 
 responsible for the mental condition of the hull ca- 
 boodle." 
 
 This severe rebuke cast a temporary gloom over 
 the court-room, that his Honor's complicity in the 
 recent conviviality could not entirely subdue.
 
 214 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 When, at length, the case of " The People vs. Henry 
 Bruce " was formally opened, it appeared that the dis- 
 trict attorney would " call the attention of the intelli- 
 gent bench before him, to one of the most cruel and 
 blood-curdling murders of modern times." The incre- 
 dulity with which the jury received this announce- 
 ment, was decidedly discouraging to the State's repre- 
 sentative. It appeared, however, that this version of 
 the case rested on the attorney's unsupported state- 
 ment. There were no witnesses to the highly ingen- 
 ious and thrilling assassination of Captain Foraker 
 which he proceeded to set forth in detail. When he 
 attempted to offer in evidence the testimony of the 
 sergeant of Foraker's men, as to what Lemuel Wick- 
 son had told him of the affair through the windows 
 of the jail, Judge Natchez promptly objected. In 
 the language of the prisoner's counsel, " Whereas 
 Lem Wickson was deceased, contrary to his own ex- 
 pectation, this fairy-tale of thet thar hoss-thief was 
 no ante-mortem statement." Sheriff Mosely was sworn, 
 and testified, moreover, that at the time of the affray 
 between Foraker and the prisoner, Wickson was in 
 close custody, and some three miles from both parties. 
 " Pr'aps, boys," said Ike, winking craftily at certain 
 of his fellow-townsmen, ranged on the jury benches, 
 " you'll let thet pettyfoggin' old skeesicks delude you 
 into the idee, that Lem bed the sight of a Mexican 
 buzzard, and could spot the hull situation from thet 
 thar distance ! " 
 
 But, here, Judge Pemberton, whose judicial con- 
 science was now thoroughly aroused, asked the sheriff 
 on which side of the case he was retained, and called 
 him sternly to order. Ike gravely descended from
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 215 
 
 the stand, after assuring the jury that he was on the 
 same side as his Honor and all lovers of law and jus- 
 tice. 
 
 It was then developed that all the evidence in the 
 case rested upon the unsupported statement of Henry 
 Bruce, who was sworn in his own defense. He was 
 asked to give an account of the killing, which he did 
 in a few direct and simple words. The sincerity of his 
 manner, the dignity of his bearing, and the quiet man- 
 liness of Bruce in his trying position had its weight 
 with his judges. But there was one fact which more 
 than any thing else compelled the reverence of this Lone 
 Star tribunal. It was this : that the man who stood 
 before them, on trial for his life, had been able to dis- 
 arm an outlaw, in the act of brandishing a Smith and 
 Wesson " six-shooter " at full cock ! It may be doubted 
 whether, in view of the recent adjournment, certain 
 of the jury were nob in doubt as to whether this was 
 not the real cause at issue. At any rate, the foreman 
 permitted his features to relax in smiling scrutiny of 
 the prisoner, during the taking of his testimony. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was with anxiety in his face and 
 manner, that Mr. Buck Jerrold approached Sheriff 
 Mosely when the court took a recess for dinner. 
 
 " What's up ? " inquired Ike, noting his compan- 
 ion's dejection. "I reckon the prevailin' opinion is 
 favorable, Buck," he continued, glancing in at the 
 open door of the tent, where the arbiters of the fate 
 of Henry Bruce were serenely discussing their noon- 
 day meal. 
 
 " Thet's jest it ! " replied Mr. Jerrold. " The 
 opinion is favorable now, Ike, but sence you've got 
 thet jury quarantyned, how long is it goiu' to last ?
 
 216 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 You must keep 'em up to it ! . Ef I could only con- 
 trive to reach 'em with this iiniversal pannyseer thet 
 makes 'em so charitably disposed well and good. 
 I know the town, ye see, and it's gin'ral senti- 
 ments. When the reaction sets in, there's no holdin' 
 'em." 
 
 The gloom of Mr. Jerrold's manner gave the sheriff 
 a sense of conviction. He became thoughtful at once. 
 Suddenly his eye brightened. He drew himself up to 
 the height of his small figure, and brought his right 
 hand down with a vigorous slap upon the shoulder of 
 Buck Jerrold. It seemed that all the nervous energy 
 of his nature was concentrated in the two words he 
 whispered 
 
 "Iced tea!" 
 
 Closing one eye gravely upon the recipient of his 
 information, he returned to an apparently watchful 
 scrutiny of the twelve occupants of the boarding- 
 tent. 
 
 In a surprisingly short space of time, a beverage, 
 proffered under the above title, and bearing a strong 
 resemblance, in color at least, to that familar metro- 
 politan drink, began to circulate about the deal board 
 and achieved instant popularity. If there was about 
 this beverage a peculiar odor, entirely foreign to the 
 national drink of China, it may have been owing to 
 the fact that the large and substantial pitcher, in which 
 it was dispensed, had subserved another purpose earlier 
 in the day. Certainly the fact excited no comment 
 from its patrons. But, when the jury left the social 
 board, it was with no perceptible lowering of mien 
 or manner, and it was even remarked that the easy 
 roll, affected by some of them, was more in keep-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 217 
 
 ing with the locomotion of the jolly Jack tar, than 
 the dilatory step which usually distinguishes the 
 Texan. 
 
 I pass over the ahle and eloquent charge delivered 
 by Judge Pemberton, as not strictly necessary here. 
 Enough, that his Honor's exposition of the law was 
 made, with the assistance of certain notes and hiero- 
 glyphics, recorded with a piece of chalk on a pine 
 shingle, during the progress of the trial. Enough, 
 that he emphasized his points, by carelessly tap- 
 ping the bench with the handle of a Colt's "six- 
 shooter," which he had recently taken from his belt 
 to serve the purpose of the customary gavel. Enough, 
 that, when he defined the law in accordance with a 
 certain state of facts, he staked his legal reputation 
 and a casual fifty dollars on the strength of his po- 
 sition. Judge Pemberton did not direct a verdict, 
 though requested so to do by both Judge Natchez and 
 Colonel Furey, notwithstanding the fact that this was 
 a criminal action. It was apparent that his Honor 
 desired to be just. It was only when he dropped the 
 suggestion, that " frontier captains hed been givin' too 
 much lately to runnin' towns in Texas," that he was 
 supposed to betray his own personal convictions. But 
 he retrieved this false step by an appeal for justice 
 that electrified the court-room. 
 
 Amid a breathless silence the jury left the benches 
 and repaired to the neighboring stable to deliberate 
 upon their verdict. They were attended by a majority 
 of those present, who were stopped at the open door 
 of this building by the armed interposition of the 
 sheriff. Nevertheless, some verbal advice was offered 
 them by the disappointed throng who could readily
 
 218 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 discern their consulting figures, grouped about a di- 
 lapidated manger in the interior. 
 
 In the little court-room Judge Pemberton relaxed 
 his dignity. He lighted a black clay pipe, tilted his 
 chair back, and, stacking both his cowhide boots on 
 a dilapidated law-book, clasped his hands behind 
 his head in dreamy contemplation of the moldy ceil- 
 ing. The prisoner and his counsel conversed in low 
 tones. A sudden nasal murmur shook the court- 
 room. The avenging spirit of Justice was beginning 
 to nod. 
 
 There was a quick shuffling of feet at the door- 
 way and a hurried rush for the court-room. The jury 
 filed solemnly back. The prosecuting attorney en- 
 tered hastily among the thronging citizens, suspicious- 
 ly wiping his lips with his red bandanna. Judge Pem- 
 berton awoke with a prolonged snore, and, grasping 
 his six-shooter, immediately rapped for silence, unfort- 
 unately in sleepy criticism of his own nasal efforts. 
 Staggering hurriedly to his feet, he adjusted his glasses 
 and frowned severely upon the serene and complacent 
 twelve. 
 
 " Boys," said his Honor, gravely, * u 'hev you agreed 
 upon your vardict ? " 
 
 "I reckon so, jedge," replied the foreman, with 
 a broad grin. 
 
 " How say you ? Is the prisoner guilty ? " 
 
 " Guilty ? " returned the foreman, with an incred- 
 ulous sniff "not much!" 
 
 " How hev you found, then ? " inquired his Honor. 
 
 "Wai, jedge," the foreman responded, familiarly, 
 while he leaned unsteadily on the legal table and com- 
 prehended the entire court-room in a single philan-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 219 
 
 thropic smile "ye see, it's about like this. We've 
 sized the sitooation up and been over the whole biz- 
 ness. Here's the diseased knows how peart the pris- 
 oner is with a six-shooter, and thet it's voluntary sui- 
 cide to go ag'in him : accordin'ly, he gits bilin' full, 
 and allows to lay him out ; natch'ally, diseased goes 
 under ; and we finds prisoner not guilty, owin' to 
 contribetary negligence on the part of diseased."
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE elation of Phil Kernochun, over the result of 
 the trial at Oskaloo, can be better imagined than de- 
 scribed. In his triumphant joy the humor of the 
 verdict was disregarded. He threw his arms about 
 his partner's neck and embraced him in the presence 
 of the crowded court-room. And a score of times, 
 during the journey back to the "Mesquite Valley 
 Banch," he would spur his horse to his side and clap 
 him on his shoulder, in the transport of his delight 
 over his release. 
 
 Bruce received his acquittal with philosophic calm- 
 ness. But, while justified in his own conscience 
 from the outset, as to the necessity of his act, he had 
 been manifestly moved by the popular feeling in his 
 behalf. Especially was he grateful for the action of 
 Sheriff Mosely and Buck Jerrold. Although, in no 
 sense, a party to the method by which these gentlemen 
 had felt it necessary to forestall a prejudiced com- 
 munity in his behalf, he was deeply indebted for the 
 impulse which prompted it. He attempted to convey 
 some idea of his feelings to the two men, but was met by 
 an emphatic denial of obligation. Mr. Jerrold claimed 
 that Bruce had conferred a personal favor upon him 
 and the public at large, by the killing of the late Cap-
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 221 
 
 tain Foraker. The sheriff maintained, as stoutly, that 
 it was only by the indulgence of the ranchman that 
 he was alive at all, and that he was morally bound to 
 act as he did. 
 
 It was a joyful return to the " Mesquite Valley 
 Ranch." Difficult, indeed, would it be to exaggerate 
 the enthusiastic welcome of the impulsive Kate ; the 
 overjoyed, though restrained, greeting of the more 
 conservative Edith ; for, in the brief interval of his 
 absence, Miss Stafford had passed some very lonely 
 hours, and had found time to realize how much the 
 presence of Bruce had grown to be to her. If she 
 had reflected with bitterness upon the change in his 
 attitude toward her ; if she had found the contrast be- 
 tween Miss Dallas and herself so overwhelming that 
 she almost pitied Bruce for the blindness of his own 
 vision : there was nothing strange or unfeminine in all 
 this. Indeed, considering the tender regard the lady 
 entertained for the ranchman, it was quite natural 
 that she should be convinced, that she was the one 
 person in the wide world to make him happy. Quite 
 as natural was it, that she should see nothing but mis- 
 ery for him in indulging this unexplainable regard 
 for Miss Dallas ; that she should believe Bruce to be 
 the victim of some species of enchantment ; and that 
 the prestige of her own birth and position should in- 
 spire her with little but aversion and contempt for 
 her rival. 
 
 Actuated by these feelings, the fair Edith, during 
 the first hours of his return, laid aside the pique that 
 she had shown of late, and displayed an arch and 
 playful manner that Bruce had once found irresisti- 
 ble. It was the old Edith, whose nameless grace and
 
 222 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 charm had once wellnigh betrayed him into a decla- 
 ration, For a time he appeared like one fascinated 
 by a memory of the past, and Edith was about to 
 congratulate herself upon the return of her influence, 
 when one morning she beheld him saddle his horse 
 and ride away, without taking leave of her as of old. 
 It was three days before he again appeared at the 
 " Mesquite Valley Ranch." Miss Stafford needed no 
 prompting as to the nature of his journey. The di- 
 rection in which his horse had been headed settled 
 that. But she was grieved and indignant. Without 
 stopping to trace the steps by which she arrived at 
 this conclusion, she felt herself terribly outraged and 
 wronged. She was vindictive in consequence. How- 
 beit, she resolved to make one more determined effort 
 to regain her ascendency. She would, if possible, re- 
 move Bruce from the influence of this rural siren who 
 was fast teaching him to forget the requirements of 
 his rank of life. If in the interval Cynthia, finding 
 herself abandoned, should decide to crown the hopes 
 of one so suitable as the gloomy Mr. Jerrold, Miss 
 Stafford would renew her childish belief that "all 
 marriages were made in heaven." 
 
 In this strait, she appealed to Kernochan to fulfill 
 a promise, given long before, to take them on a fort- 
 night's trip to Austin, the capital of the State. She 
 reminded him that her visit was drawing to a close, 
 and that the time was short in which to keep his 
 word. Her indulgent host readily acquiesced. 
 
 When this trip had been decided upon, Phil Ker- 
 nochan proposed that the four should ride over to San 
 Marcus on horseback, it being necessary that he and 
 his partner should arrange some business matters be-
 
 A NYMPH OP THE WEST. 223 
 
 fore their departure, The proposal was received with 
 favor. 
 
 Before setting out, Miss Stafford repaired to her 
 room, where she arrayed herself in the faultless riding- 
 dress with which she had once electrified Miss Dallas. 
 As she peered into her toilet-mirror, there was a grim 
 resolve about the lines of her mouth from which her 
 quick-witted sex might have argued no quarter to a 
 rival. And it was noticeable that the few additional 
 hair-pins, with which the lady found it necessary to 
 secure her raven tresses, were placed in position al- 
 most fiercely very much as Miss Edith might have 
 used a harpoon upon some creature that had excited 
 her resentment. When her toilet was completed, she 
 surveyed herself from head to foot critically, but with 
 evident approval ; after which she opened a small 
 jewel-casket, and, taking from an inner recess a ring, 
 she slipped it hurriedly upon the third finger of her 
 left hand. It was a solitaire diamond, large and brill- 
 iant, and she passed her small handkerchief across it 
 once or twice, catching the morning sunlight on the 
 flashing jewel, and noting how it graced her dimpled 
 hand. But there was an expression in the lady's dark 
 eyes that was hardly reassuring. 
 
 The ring was a mere memory with Edith a sou- 
 venir of an attachment from which the sentiment had 
 long since faded a relic of an almost forgotten past. 
 Howbeit, although she usually wore no rings, she per- 
 mitted it to remain upon her finger that morning, 
 and, drawing her riding-glove quickly over the gem, 
 she joined the mounted party at the ranch-gate, where 
 the impatient Phil was calling loudly upon the ladies 
 to hurry.
 
 224 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 After dinner that afternoon, when Kernochan and 
 Bruce had left them to transact the inevitable busi- 
 ness ; and Kate, weary with the morning's ride, had 
 insisted on taking a siesta, in spite of the stuffy at- 
 mosphere of the San Marcus Hotel ; Edith was domi- 
 nated by a sudden energy. She leaned against a win- 
 dow of the dreary parlor, and gazed down the dusty 
 road toward the green foliage of the river. How cool 
 it looked there ! And what a short distance away ! 
 What was to prevent her going there, if she would ? 
 She answered this question by ordering the sleepy 
 proprietor to have her pony saddled and brought to 
 the front gallery at once, 
 
 Having succeeded in gaining the saddle unassisted, 
 with an ease and dash that left that worthy speech- 
 less and staring, Miss Stafford rode quietly, out of 
 town. When she reached the river, she did not stop, 
 but guiding her unwilling mustang skillfully across 
 the shallow ford, she turned in the shade of the trees 
 upon the opposite bank, taking the direction of the 
 Dallas Ranch. She knew its general position from a 
 remark of Bruce during the week of the San Marcus 
 Ball. She did not think the distance great. Hardly 
 had she taken the trail- road, when she encountered 
 Buck Jerrold, riding along listless and dejected upon 
 the gaunt " Buckshot." 
 
 The man raised his serious face and saluted her 
 gravely. Edith drew rein. Grateful for her rescue 
 some months previous, the fastidious Miss Stafford 
 treated him with uniform courtesy ; just now, the 
 meeting was most opportune. Did Mr. Jerrold know 
 the distance to the Dallas Ranch, and would he direct 
 her to it ? Buck stared, gave the information in the
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 225 
 
 usual blind Southern fashion, but did not volunteer 
 any personal guidance. Edith, moreover, did not re- 
 quest it. But was Miss Cynthia at home ? Mr. Jerrold 
 stared again, and reckoned she was. Miss Stafford 
 thanked him, and dashed away in the direction indi- 
 cated, leaving the cow-man gazing solemnly after her. 
 But, as she rode, Edith reflected upon his gloomy 
 bearing, and was not without feeling that she was 
 acting very generously toward him, in the utterly 
 selfish purpose she had in mind. 
 
 Cynthia was in her bower, whither, of late, she had 
 been much given to repairing. She was lying in her 
 hammock, swinging listlessly to and fro, her half- 
 closed eyes dreamily regarding the ever-swaying cur- 
 tain of green above her head. The flecked shadows 
 played over her face and red-gold hair, as the ham- 
 mock swung, and, reckless of sun-tan or exposure, 
 she had thrown her arms above her head, her fingers 
 carelessly intertwined. "Aulus," graver and more 
 dignified than usual, crouched at her feet. 
 
 She was happy happier than she had ever felt or 
 known before ; and as she swung there, her guardian 
 brothers of the wood seemed to nod and beckon, as if 
 in sympathy with the happiness she felt. For, had 
 not he, who had brought this new-found happiness 
 into her life, come forth unscathed from the troubles 
 and dangers surrounding him ? She recalled the wea- 
 riness and anxiety of the previous days ; the fear with 
 which she had flown to her father and besought him 
 to take her to the trial in the distant frontier town, 
 that she might personally, by her presence and sym- 
 pathy, sustain him in the hour of his distress. She 
 remembered the amazement and indignation of Al- 
 15
 
 226 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 cides, who turned for relief, after this unblushing re- 
 quest of his fair daughter, to a frenzied rehearsal of 
 his favorite symphony upon his violin. 
 
 But it was all over now. He was safe ; he had 
 returned ; she was content. And yet, in the restful 
 quiet of the little wood, Cynthia could not but feel a 
 pang of pity for the man who had just left her with 
 no hope in his eyes, to whose generous conduct much 
 of the present joy she felt was due. 
 
 There was the sound of a footstep without, and 
 the girl sprang to her feet with a sudden flush. She 
 put both hands to her head as if to efface any disorder 
 of her tresses due to her previous attitude. A broad 
 shaft of sunlight, slipping through the branches over- 
 head, steeped in glowing warmth her picturesque face 
 and figure. 
 
 A moment of expectation, and Miss Stafford, cool, 
 erect, and fastidious, holding her immaculate skirts 
 in the gloved fingers of her right hand, stepped within. 
 As she did so, she toyed carelessly with the riding- 
 whip held in her left, and gazed curiously about her. 
 Their eyes met. Miss Stafford bent her head coldly, 
 and permitted Cynthia the slightest inclination of her 
 arched eyebrows. The recognition of Miss Dallas was 
 equally cordial. 
 
 An embarrassing pause followed these civilities. 
 Edith was the first to break it. 
 
 " I suppose you are surprised to see me here," she 
 began, with more embarrassment of manner than she 
 had deemed possible. She glanced down at the whip 
 she held lightly between her gloved fingers. Cynthia 
 remained quiet. 
 
 "The fact is, Miss Dallas," Edith recommenced,
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 227 
 
 the hesitation of her manner lending an apparent sin- 
 cerity to her words "the fact is, I am going away 
 yery soon ; but I felt I could not do so, without thank- 
 ing you for your kindness to me in being so good to 
 Mr. Bruce." 
 
 Cynthia raised her eyebrows and stared blankly 
 at Edith, turning her head a little one side very 
 much as a bird will, when doubtful if it has heard 
 aright. She grew a shade paler, but replied that she 
 was gratified, if anything she had done had found 
 favor with Miss Stafford. If look and manner, how- 
 ever, counted for anything, it was quite evident that 
 the temperature of Cynthia's gratification was indefi- 
 nitely below zero. 
 
 " I mean by your riding over to his assistance in 
 the reckless fashion you did," Miss Stafford con- 
 tinued. " It was really quite romantic and kind of 
 you, you know quite what one reads about ; and I 
 wanted to to thank you. I told Mr. Bruce so. I 
 know he feels much as I do." 
 
 There was a very perceptible change in Cynthia's 
 manner while listening to this ingenuous statement. 
 Apparently she grew several inches taller under Miss 
 Stafford's patronage. Her lip curled perceptibly and 
 her eyes flashed, as she implied very decidedly that she 
 was quite aware what Mr. Bruce thought about it. 
 
 " Very possibly," Miss Stafford assented, quietly 
 " but I was only telling you what he said to me. I 
 am going away, you know we are loth going away." 
 Miss Stafford emphasized the "both." "I thought 
 you ought to know how we felt in the matter." 
 
 The ominous plural fell like a knell upon Cynthia. 
 She felt her breath grow quick and short, and a sud-
 
 228 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 den faintness seize her. But she did not change her 
 attitude. She remained gazing steadfastly up into 
 the beautiful face before her. There was disdain in 
 the brown eyes, and she felt it. 
 
 " And so you turned yourself into Henry Bruce's 
 errand-boy to let me know," she replied, calmly. 
 "Well, now, thet's kind of you, I'm sure ; you reck- 
 oned I was just natch'ally lyin' awake nights to get 
 your approval, and you couldn't rest until you took 
 this way of showin' it. P'raps you'll be willin' to 
 say, Miss Stafford, how long you've been carryin' his 
 messages and runnin' his errands ?" f 
 
 She threw back her head and laughed merrily, as 
 she said this a laugh so musical and clear that it 
 seemed to ripple upward from the very heart of joy. 
 Miss Stafford blushed crimson beneath her merriment. 
 It steeled her to adhere to her original purpose. With 
 a sudden gesture she stripped off the glove upon her 
 left hand ; the glittering facets of the diamond she 
 wore flashed in the broad shaft of sunbeams that cleft 
 the bower. 
 
 " Do you see that ring ? " she demanded, coldly, 
 suffering the fascinated eyes of the girl to rest a mo- 
 ment upon the sparkling gem. " Perhaps that will 
 explain my interest in the welfare of Mr. Bruce." 
 
 She turned proudly, flashed one brief glance of 
 triumph upon Cynthia from beneath her supercilious 
 lashes, and swept haughtily out of the bower. Cyn- 
 thia was alone with the agony of the sudden revela- 
 tion. 
 
 She put one hand to her head in a half-dazed way, 
 as if she felt a sudden pain there. The ground seemed 
 slipping away beneath her feet ; the horizon whirled
 
 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 229 
 
 around her. She felt in one brief instant as if the 
 sunlight had gone from the earth the vivid blue 
 from the sky ; and the next she was lying prone upon 
 the mosses at her feet, weighed down by the gray, 
 despairing monotone that seemed suddenly to possess 
 all things. She pressed her hands over her eyes, bury- 
 ing her face deep down in the soft lichens, as if to 
 shut out of sight the dreadful reality which suddenly 
 confronted her. Then a quick tremor shook her, 
 and she was crying silently as if her heart would 
 break. 
 
 How long she lay there, overcome by the weight 
 of this sudden sorrow that had come into her life, 
 Cynthia did not know. She was only aware, in an 
 indefinite way, that the chirp of cricket and grass- 
 hopper throbbed monotonously through the conscious- 
 ness of her woe ; that the birds seemed to sing care- 
 lessly as if in mockery of it ; and that through it all 
 her faithful " Aulus" fawned about her with rude ca- 
 resses and strove to comfort her. 
 
 And so he was really engaged to Miss Stafford ; 
 that was the end, then. This man whom she had so 
 trusted and -believed had been playing a double part 
 with her, and had called her out of the ignorant con- 
 tent of her early life, only to crush her with the new 
 joy he had awakened. Oh, the pity of it ! And she 
 had shown she loved him so ! Overcome by the bit- 
 terness of this reflection, she sank down again, and 
 lay there pale and wretched, twining her fingers list- 
 lessly in the soft mosses, her eyes fixed on vacancy, 
 and oblivious of all else, save this one, mortifying, hu- 
 miliating, agonizing fact. 
 
 The moments went slowly by. The shadows shifted
 
 230 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 on the pine-strewn floor. High overhead a squirrel, 
 that had marked her grief, dropped a cone down upon 
 her as if in protest. A motionless red lizard, that at 
 first seemed to sympathize with her, leered at her 
 from an adjacent stone, and was growing visibly hys- 
 terical. And then this irony of Xature was dispelled 
 by a footstep that came quickly into the bower. The 
 squirrel flashed suddenly around a limb, and the liz- 
 ard rustled off into the thicket. Cynthia raised her 
 eyes. Henry Bruce was standing over her, regarding 
 her with a curious, questioning glance. 
 
 She gave him no word or sign of recognition. The 
 one brief glance with which she swept his face had in 
 it the scorn and contempt of the injured woman. 
 She sprang to her feet, dashing away from her, with a 
 passionate gesture, the hand he had extended to her 
 aid. Turning her back upon him, she sought the 
 farthest corner of the bower. 
 
 Bruce was astounded at this reception. He took 
 a step or two toward her and attempted to take her 
 hands in his. She whipped them indignantly behind 
 her and faced him with flashing eyes. In his igno- 
 rance of what had passed, the young ranchman cast 
 about him for some act of his that could have caused 
 this sudden anger. 
 
 " Cynthia," he said, breaking the silence, " what 
 is the meaning of this ? I am going away on a brief 
 trip to Austin. I have come to bid you good-by. 
 Have you no word to say to me ? " 
 
 She waved him away with an imperious gesture. 
 
 "There is no need of it," she said. " I have re- 
 ceived your good-bys already, from her ! " 
 
 Bruce stared. lie gave a surprised glance about
 
 A NYMPH OP THE WEST. 231 
 
 him. Lying at his feet among the pine-needles was a 
 dainty glove of undressed kid. He recognized it 
 instantly as belonging to Edith. Involuntarily he 
 stooped and picked up the perfumed trifle. It was 
 redolent of its owner. He turned with a look of in- 
 quiry to Cynthia. 
 
 " Has Miss Stafford been here ? " he asked, almost 
 sternly. He was hardly prepared for the icy brevity 
 of her reply : 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And she told you I was going away ? " 
 
 "She said you were both going," said Cynthia, 
 simply. The word seemed to choke her, but she re- 
 covered herself with an effort. "She showed me the 
 ring that you gave her, and said she wished to thank 
 me for my kindness to you." 
 
 In spite of herself, the tears started to the girl's 
 beautiful eyes. An angry flush came suddenly over 
 the face of Bruce. 
 
 " It is strange that, as one personally interested, I 
 learn of this now for the first," he said, dryly. "Am 
 I to understand that Miss Stafford told you I gave her 
 a ring ? " 
 
 " She gave me to understand that she was engaged 
 to you," said Cynthia, quickly, looking him straight 
 in the eyes. 
 
 Bruce took a step nearer to her. 
 
 " It is false ! " he said, with white lips. 
 
 A sudden revulsion of feeling crimsoned Cynthia's 
 face and neck. She regarded him earnestly. 
 
 "False ?" she whispered. 
 
 Bruce took the little brown hands in his, and 
 looked down into her face.
 
 232 A NYMPH OF THE WEST. 
 
 "False!" he said. "Don't you know, darling, 
 there is but one girl in the wide world I would be 
 willing to make my wife ? " 
 
 She looked up at him shyly through the tears of a 
 moment before. 
 
 " Who is thet ? " she said. 
 
 " Cynthia Dallas ! " 
 
 THE END.
 
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 90 DESSEETS, CAKES. 
 
 There are many people of moderate income desiring to live well and yet within 
 their means, ami to this class this book will prove specially useful. AVhile economy 
 is not its sole object, the variety of receipts for palatable dishes that may be prepared 
 at small cost is very large. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.