Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 261, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1913 — BEFORE THE FLAMES [ARTICLE]

BEFORE THE FLAMES

By JUNE GALIAN.

Helena Storrs stared resentfully after the Eastern Express as it dwindled to a black spot in the distance. When it had quite disappeared from eight and the black smoke had drifted away into the sagebrush, she turned and surveyed her surroundings. The station agent was watching her curiously from the open doorway. She was worth looking , at, too, this beautiful daughter of John Henry Storrs, the financier; she was very lovely in her plain blue cloth traveling gown and chic little hat, with the late afternoon sun turning her hair to red and gold and warming the rose and ivory tints of her complexion. The station agent jumped when Helena suddenly fixed her lovely gray eyes on him. "Is there a garage near by?” she asked, pleasantly. The station agent scratched his head. “Lord, miss, there ain't a motor • car short of Cheyenne, I guess.” Miss Storrs looked displeased. “What a desolate spot!” she exclaimed. “Can you tell me when the next train is due?” “There ain’t another one till morning, miss. This one wouldn’t have stopped only there was something wrong with her engine. They ought not to have let you off the train at all." >

“I threatened to report them if they did not,” siid Helen, haughtily. “What am I to do?” she asked. The answer to her question came in an unexpected way. There was the sound of wagon wheels and the clatter of hoofs and around the bend of the trail there whirled a light buckboard driven by a man in a broad-brimmed hat. He handled the fiery black horses skillfully and brought the wagon wheels to a standstill without an inch to spare beside the station platform. u. « “Hi, there, Jpnesey,” he sang lustily, “got an Oxpress package for me?” “Wait a minute, Jerry —it’s inside.” The agent hustled indoors. Presently he came out with a package, which he placed in the back of the wagon. . t Then he conversed in low tones with the driver. Helena surmised that they might be talking about her and she fblt uncomfortably at a disadvantage. She stepped , from the platform, went around the side of the station and, without a glance at the men, turned into the dusty trail that led to Duggold—ten miles away. She had walked perhaps half a mile when there came the clatter of hoofs behind her. She did not turn around. As the sound grew nearer she stepped aside into the sagebrush and kept on at a quicker pace. Mingled with the hoofs were wagon wheels; they passed her and then etopped, sending up a choking cloud of dust.

"I beg your pardon,” said a pleasant voice, "but 'would you not like to ride to Duggold?" “Thank you, no,” she said, stiffly; "I prefer to walk.” “It is a tough walk,” said the stranger a little insistently, Helen thought; "especially if you are not acquainted with the region. You may meet all sorts of people—the grass is afire at Fox creek and it is coming this way." Helena looked around and saw coming from the east a cloud of gray •moke. * Birds were flying before the wind and little charred shreds of grass drifted past. “Fire?” asked Helena. “Do you mean that they are permitting the fire to get beyond control?” The . man laughed shortly. “The fire had been Beyond control from the beginning. There is little hope that it will stop at the trail. I did not know >t had gained such headway or I —l 'will try backfire! Step back, please, over there —on the other side of the trail,” he said. Helena obeyed, meekly following as he drove the horses several hundred yards into the sagebrush on the safe aide of the trail. “Stay close to the wagon—it’s your only way to escape.” He bent to touch a match to the grass on the eastern edge of the,trail. A long line pf red flames trickled up and down, fighting against the wind The man ran to ands fro. beating it back where it threatened to ignite the grass on the further side of the trail. At last the flames gathered headway and another cloud of smoke went out to meet the blacked cloud coming from the east. Helena felt the intense heat and under the man’s direction she drove the frightened horses still further to safety If Helena had not been a fearless horsewoman the terrified animals might have broken from her restraining hands.

"You’ve done nobly,” smiled her companion, when he rejoined her at last. "Now, if you will watch, you will see the backfire meet the fire from the east and there will be a struggle for supremacy —and they will eat each other up!" So absorbed did Helena and her companion become in watching the battle of the two wallq of flames that they were regardless of their own danger until suddenly a choking cloud of smoke enclosed them and there was the dull heat of approaching flames. “Done!*’ cried the mpn. ( angrily, snatching tip the reins. "We'll have a run for It, after all. It was idiocy on my part not to watch for a sneaking Jump across the trail further down i —weH, we've got If run for it,” he panted, leaning forward to lash the.

l€ was a never-to-be-forgotten ride across the fire-swept sagebrush. The wagon leaped from side to side and Helena was obliged to cling desperately to the strong arm of her companion to keep from falling out. At last one of the horses lurched forward and fell with a shrill scream of anguish. The other horse was dragged down with him and kicked frantically against the tangled traces. “Gopher hole!” muttered the man, jumping out and lifting Helena down. He went forward, bent over the fallen animals, and called back a word of warning to Helena. An instant later a shot rang out, there was a brief struggle, and the injured horse lay quiet. The stranger released the other animal from the traces, helped it to its feet, and then called to Helena. “It’s our only chance —can you stay on a horse?” “Try me!” cried Helena. In an instant he had tossed a blanket across the trembling animal, strapping it firmly in place. Then, with scant ceremoney, he lifted Helena to a seat, bidding her place one foot in the fold of the blanket. “In five minutes the fire will reach the wagon," he said. "It’s a ride for life —ready? Go!” Away went the black horse, with the man running swiftly alongside, one hand on the animal’s shoulder. Faster, faster, they went, with the flames gaining on them every instant. To Helena Storrs the ride was a reteidtion. Never before had she come so near to the very marrow of life. Here, fleeing before the blasting jwind, she might have been the primeval woman with primeval man at her side. At last the ground slopekl sharply over flinty stones. The horse stumbled bravely down the declivity, snorted with pleasure and waded into a wide creteft, where ,it stood, breathing heavily. The man leaned against thb animal and closed his eyes. The water coming to his knees roused him and he lifted his head and smiled at Helena. “I reckon we’re safe enough now,” he said. “You’re all tired out, eh?” “It was glorious,” said Helena, quietly. For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes, then Helena spoke nervously. “The Are cannot come beyond the creek 1 ” she said. “No. It will be pretty hot for awhile and we can keep cool in the water. After that —why, I’ll take you over to Duggold; my sister will make you welcome at my ranch. I suppose you left your money on the train?” Helena nodded.

“Well, Nancy can help you out,” he said practically. “Now prepare to keep your face wet and your eyes covered —another hundred yards and the flames will lick up this grass alongside the ■fcreek.” Helena never forgot that hour. The stranger made her get down into the water and wet her gown thoroughly. The heat from the approaching flames caused a steam to arise from the blue serge gown and the smoke was stifling, but Helena earned the eternal admiration of her companion by .Bor courage, and finally the flames flickeaed out and left a dreary black and smoking pairie. “Now, for home,” said the stranger, swinging Helena into the saddle and leading the horse up the opposite bank into the sagebrush. It was long after sunset when they dragged up the trail to Rainbow ranch, where Nancy Mather gave Helena a warm welcome. Nancy’s brother, Jerry, who had been Helena's companion, lingered a moment that night and spoke to his sister. “Nan," he said, seriously, “how would you like Miss Storrs for a sister?” “Jerry! At last?” asked Nancy, smiling incredulously. “So soon?” He nodded. “If I marry at all—it will be that girl,” he said, seriously, as he bent to kiss her good-night. “Good luck, then, brother. She's a dear!” cried Nancy. And when she was alone she murmured: “I’ll not tell him who she is! He will be surprised to find that he’s going to marry the rich Miss Storrs.”

And when the news was finally broken it was after he had won Helena’s consent to be his wife. Then his sturdy American independence asserted itself and he said tersely: “Nancy, I love her in spite of the money! Say, Nancy, you ought to have seen her the day of the fire!” (Copyright, 1913. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)