Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 January 1917 — Page 2

The Quarterbreed

Capt. Floyd Hardy, U. S. A., coming to take charge of the agency If" Lakotah Indian reservation, following the murder of Agent Nogen, rescues a qusrterbreed girl apd two men from an Indian attack. They are Reginald Vandervyn, agency clerk and nephew of Senator Clemmer; Jacques Dupont, post trader, and his daughter Marie. Hardy learn# that Vandervyn had been promised the agency position, discovers that the Indiana are disaffected because they have been cheated in a..,., tribal mine which Vandervyn and Dupont have been working, la puzzled when his friendly speech to tribesmen, Interpreted by Vandervyn'a tool, angers the Indiana, and determine# to make further investigation. New influences arising at this point make his position difficult. How his life and honor are endangered through dark plot—ting ll graphically,described in this installment

CHAPTER Vlll—Continued. ▼anddrvyn had arranged to be gone a week. There was no cause cuss the tl<e of his return, and as Marie seldom mentioned him, Hardy was not often annoyed by the vision of the handsome young Tellow interposing between himself and the girl. Prom day to day it could plainly be seen how the rides in the pure mountain air and the delight of the girl’s companionship were bringing back strength and vigor to the officer’s tropic-weakened body. Soon a healthy red appeared under the tan of his cheeks. The lines*of severity and repressed grief began to smooth away. On the morning of the seventh day, when he rode over to join Marie for a ride out to the butte on Wolf river, ten years seemed to have dropped from him. Even when he lifted his hat to the girl and exposed the silvered hair at his temples, he looked nearer twenty-five than thirty. He had shaved off his bristly mustache! “Positively, captain,” she bantered, “you startle me. You are growing so young! First thing I know, I shall be feeling myself a grandmother in “You are the Spirit of Youth. Being with you is what makes me seem so much younger than I am. Yet I shall never see thirty-two again.” “You’re barely erf age this morning!” she said, smiling at his shapely cleanshaven lip. “In that case you must humor my callowness by pretending you need my aid to mount.” She put one small booted foot in his hand, rose with the lightness of a feather and perched herself sideways on her man’s saddle. Unused to such strange behavior, the pony began to buck. Hardy sprang to seize the beast by the head. Marie waved him aside, and proceeded to give an impromptu exhibition of her skill as a horsewoman. With one knee crooked around the horn of her saddle, she kept her difficult seat like a circus rider, until the pony subsided. «You’ve ridden to bounds,” stated Hardy as the girl swung astride and they started off down the valley. She siplled with gratification. “Reggie never notices such things; but you— The first time I saw a sidesaddle I thought if riaicuKm" On their way down the valley they met no one, for the families of the police had moved back to their old camp site opposite the agency. Marie suggested that they climb the butte. With subtle coquetry, she gave Hardy the privilege of assisting her up the ledges, though, had she chosen, she could«have outcllmbed him. They mounted to the top of the highest crag, where they sat down on the bare rock to view tbe plains and mountains through Hardy’s glasses. The utter stillness and solitude, the immensity of the cloudless blue dome above them, the great sweep of the landscape—all tended to quiet the excitement of their lively ascent. A hush fell upon them. Marie let the hand that held the glasses sink Into her lap. She gazed off up the river, dreamy-eyed. After a prolonged silence -Hardy murmured In a half-whisper: “How alone we are! The world is young—it Is the beginning of -time. And in all the new, young world, you and I are alone —Marie.” , It was the first time that he had ever used her given name in speaking to her. She started from her daydream, the color deepening in her cheeks. In the same moment she became aware that she had been looking at a moving object. - .. . "Look!” she said, lifting the glasses to her eyes. “That must be the head and shoulders of a man. He Is riding along on the far side of the ridge—s an his head is muffled in a blanket.” ’ “Marie!” softly repeated Hardy. The girl sprang to her feet. “He has disappeared -^ut we are no lon 6 er alone in tbe world, Captaip Hardy. Let us go down.” With •instant repression of'•his disHardy took the glasses and offered his hand to assist her down the first ledge. She ignored the offer. Nor did she permit bijn to help her at all during the descent " Her pony leaped away with the usual Jumping start of a bronco. Tbe mare f stepped clear of the low scrub near the rill edge, out upon the sandy level of the coulee bottom. She was in the met iff breaking into h trot when her

rider’s hat whirled from his head and he pitched sideways out of the saddle as if struck by lightning.- -- A moment later the report of the shot reached Marie. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Hardy outstretched on the ground, flaccid and inert. With a suddenness that almost threw her pony off his nimble feet, she wrenched him around. The mare had stopped within two strides, and twisted her head about to look at her fallen master. The manner in which he had fallen showed that the shot bad come from up the coulee. Flinging herself from her pony, she plucked Hardy’s rifle out of its sheath and leveled it across the saddle. But she could see no sign of the assassin, and no second bullet came whirring across the coulee. Without a second look up tbe coulee, she bent over to rip the hem from her underskirt. This gave her a bandage/ Her own and Hardy’s handkerchiefs served for a compress. Swiftly she bound them on the long wound above his temple and stopped the bleeding.

When at last he opened his eyes, his head was in her lap. He gazed up into her down-bent face, his mind still in « ringp, A frown us uain creased-hls forehead. He murmured, in the querulous tone of a sick child: “Mother — mother!” Instinctively her soft hand began to smooth away the frown with a gentle, touche Hla eyes ciosed in restful contentment. The girl continued to stroke his forehead. Suddenly his eyelids lifted, and he looked up with the clear, bright gaze of full consciousness. Hejsaw the womanly compassion in her'beautlful face. Her egps were tendejr and lustrous with sympathy for hiy suffering. “Marie!” he murmured- “It Is you 1 I —l thought my mother —” “Hush!” she said. “You have been shot in the head. I do not know how serious it Is.” _ “Shot? In the head?” He lay still, considering this. Her look had not altered under his gaze. From her utter lack of self-consciousness he divined that she thought him dangerously if not fatally wounded. After a pause, he began to speak with the calmness that sometimes masks/ the most profound feeling: “You scarcely know me—but, in the circumstances, I trust you will pardon me for—-notrwaiting. I loveymi; From the first I thought you the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Now I know

“Marie!" Ha Murmured. “It Is You!”

you to be the most lovely—your soul as. beautiful as your face. Do not shake your head. It is the truth.” She averted her shame-flushed face. “I—l cannot permit you to speak to me this way.” - “You are too good and kind to refuse to hear me," he replied in the ; jeme calm voice. “I know about MM. I know 1 have no chance, dear. He young I %h4tpale lips curved in a quizzical smile. The girl’s bosom heaved. The tears overran her brimming eyes. “®)B ate' —are generous! I did not think any man could be so generous!” JL Again Ms lips curved whimsically.' "Perhaps I am generous because there is no other course open. ’ I would ask you—would urge you—to marry me, if d thought I had even a fighting chance of winning you.” ' ; * “Marry you! You would ask me? Yet you know, what my father ds like ; and you anny people are so proud. I, an Indian qriarterbreed, and my father what he is!” * “My motbeiv-passed away—only a

THE EVENING REPUBLIC AX. RENSSELAER- IXP-

few months ago. Sh# was all I had. Now. I shall always Jiakl the thought , of your goodness In addition to the dear memory of her.” The girl turned her face still farther away from him. ‘‘l cannot endnre — You shall not think of me that way!” “I beg your pardon, Miss Dupont,” he apologized. “It is most inconsiderate and ungenerous of me to He here claiming your sympathy on falser pretenses. I feel my strength coming back. It must be that the bullet merely graced my head.” JWfs? Before she could prevent him, he twisted about and rgjsed hUpself on his elbow. “Oh!” she remonstrated. “You should not move.” He forced a laugh between his clenched teeth. | “No, it’s what I thought—only a scratch. All right now, except for a little dizziness. I have been imposing on your sympathy— Did you see where the shot came from? I must go and rout out the rascal.” The girl grasped his rifle and sprang up away from him. “You shall not go,” she declared. “I’m sure he ran away the moment you fell.” - Hardy straightened on his knees and rose unsteadily to his feet. His voice was as firm as his pose was tottery: “Be so kind as to help me to mount.” Hardy turned his mare down the coulee. despite his protests, rode between him and the ridge behind which she had seen the blanketed man.

, CHAPTER IX. The Coquette. Unable to endure the jar of a trot or gallop, Hardy urged the,mare to her fastest walk. They had gone less than a mile when a horseman came loping up the slope from Sioux creek. “It is Mr. Vandervyn,” said Hardy in an even tone.” “Yes,” she replied. She handed back the glasses, hut did not look at him until Vandervyn rode up. The young man’s face was flushed, as if he had been drinking. When he pulled up before them, he was seeming-, ly so struck with Hardy’s appearance that he scarcely heeded Marie’s joyful greeting. “What’s the matter, captain?” he exclaimed. “You’re as white as a ghost —and your head tied up! You must have come a nasty cropper.” “Bit of an accident. Not serious,” replied Hardy: “It could not well have been closer,” said Marie. “Captain Hardy has been shot.” “Shot?" cried Vandervyn. “The bullet grazed the bone above the temple. Had it been half an Inch lower or farther back, it must have killed him.” “Half an Inch,” repeated Vandervyn. His face crimsoned, and the veins of Ids forehead began to swell; “Where is the fellow? Did he. get away? How long ago-~wgs. HA.. Loan-me the mare.

Hardy. I’ll run Mm down.” V— — “Very good of you to offer,” said Hardy. “But the rascal might ambush you. We’ll order out a squad of police. Besides, I wish your report on your trip. I presume Redbear is at the agency.’’ __ “No.” Vandervyn fumed a scowling face towards the butte, as if angrily eager to be off in pursuit of the wouldbe assassin. “Charlie went back to Thunderbolt’s camp to see if Ms sister was getting along all right with the old chief. I told him that if he was welcomed, he had better stay a few days. If he and the girl make themselves agreeable, we shall have a better chance to quiet the tribe/ “You found conditions still unfavorable?" “Yes. All the chiefs took a violent dislike to you; and they had stirred up -the whole tribe. Charlie and I talked and talked. You know a white man can talk Indians into anything, If he keeps at it.” v “What result?” snapped Hardy. Vandervyn shrugged. “I know w<* made some impression, especially on old Thunderbolt. The chiefs no doubt would be willing to let you visit the camps on safe conduct, so to speak; but I doubt if they could keep the wildest of the young bucks in hand. This shooting proves it. I tell you, captain, none of us here would think any the less of you if you cut the whole business.” J“I shall start for the mountains tomorrow.” : - - ‘Tomorrow?” remonstrated Marie. “Your wound —you must wait at least iintil it has begun to heal. And In the meantime Redbear and Olnna will be taking Ti-owa-konza and his camp into a milder mood.” “That last Is a irioirt excellent argUment,*’ said Hardy, and his firmly compressed lips curved In a smile at, the girl. “I shall take your advice, Miss Bnpont." Vandervyn had frowned over the concern Ip Marie’s voice. Hardy’s response started the veins of’his forehead swelling. He looked off away from the two, and remarked In A casual voice: “I’ll tide in ahead and or-

der out a squad of policemen to track pret, If I’m unable to make tbtifn understand." - u ' “Good!” said Ha^dy. Vandervyn shot at Marie a glance of jealous anger, and put spurs to his pinto. But when they reached the valley'and saw through the glasses the squad, of* police only Jnst leaving the agency, Marie conjectured that the Jaded pinto had slowed to a walk while going op the valley. 4 last Marie and Hardy reached the ag&icy. With the, assistance ,of Van-’ derVyn, wffb came out of the Ujopoqt house to meet them, he was helped* down from his mare to a cot in the shady porch. Here in the open air Marie washed the wound and took several -stitches to gether. During the operation, which Hardy endured without a groan, Vandervyn stood by, watcMng Marie’s face with sullen jealousy. The moment she had rebandaged the wound, he suggested that it would be well to leave Hardy quiet. In reply she asked him to go for ice. When he returned, he found her sitting beside the cot, fan in hand. Hardy had falien asleep. She rose and went into the house, and Vandervyn followed her. The young man made no attempt to conceal his anger. He closed the parlor and turned upon her accusingly. “So that’s what you’ve been up all tho time I’ve been away?” - “Up to what, pray?” .“Coquetting with that old fossil of a tin soldier.” “Am I not a dutiful daughter?” the girl parried. “Mon pere said I must make myself agreeable to the agent.” “He did?” “Why not go and ask him, if you doubt what I say?” “I don’t. That’s jnst it—damn It all!” - The girl’s eyes flashed with resentment, but her voice was sweetly mocking: “Oh, Mr. Vandervyn, how can you? Captain^Hardy never swore once during all ftur delightful rides.”

“You’ve been riding with him every . '"“All except one. I’ve been sorry ever since that I missed that one. He was invariably courteous. He is a gentleman.” “You infer that I am not!” exclaimed Vandervyn. “So he’s courteous and smodth arid slick, is he? One might know that you’ve been raised in the backwoods." “Yon forget I spent four years at /vonlfo] nf Pnmulfl ’• “In a convent! No wonder you’ve let him play you.” The girl met the jeer with a tantalizing smile. “It has been a most amusing game. He treats me with as much respect as if I were a young lady, of his own set.” “There’s no one else here for him to flirt-with.” “That is an advantage, is it not?” The girl dropped into her English manner. ™I daresay he will; forget me as soon as he gets back to civilization — unless I decide to accept his proposal.” Vandervyn stared at her cynically. “You needn’t try to rag me, Marie," , She smiled. “So yon do doubt what I -say. Yet it is true. Captain Hardy did me the honor of declaring that lie wished to marry me.” “Hardy asked you?—he, a captain in the regular army!” -“And I a quarterbreed, the daughter of my father. Amazing, is it not?” Vandervyn caught himself up as he saw the proud humility of her expression. It was a new look to him. He had often seen her proud, but never humble. His Jealousy flared: “How did you answer him? You didn’t accept—you refused the old boardback !” “Yes and no, that Is, not yet,” the girl teased. ■—Vandervyn stepped close and grasped her arm.“Be so kind' as to release me, Mr. Vandervyn.”

“You coquette! You’re trying to play me against him.” “So that is what you think of me?” turned from him haughtily He stepped forward, an<J again grasped her arm. His voice shook with jealous -anger: “You shall have nothing to do with him! He shall not have you!” “indeed! May I ask what right you have to dictate?” ' ‘‘You lx)vg me, tli&t is wiiy f ne nung back at her. “You love me, Marie. Yop can't deny it.” His voice sank to a deep, ardent, golden note that sent a tremor through her. “You are mine —mine! £su know it. Your arm quivers—taS look in your eyes! You cannot hide your love, Marie —sweetheart!” ' ‘ - He sought to embrace her. But again she wrenched herself free from him. She could no longer feign hauteur. Her face wps rosy with blushes; her bosom heaved; her eyes, behind their veiling lashes, glowed with tender passion. \ Yet she kept her head despite the Intoxicating ardor of his look. Unlike Oinna, she was not so

A Modem Indian Reservation Story by Robert Ames Bennet

persisted In ' _ —— : «££<|u take,£good deal for granted, Jir. Vandervyn,” she attempted a mocking 'tone. “I am not yet your sweetheart, nor am I so sure 1 shall be.” He came nearer to her, his eyes the color of violets and sparkling with tiny golden gleams. He held out his arms. His voice was low and enticing: “Sweetheart—sweetheart!” She swayed toward him, checked herself in the act of yielding, and eluded his grasp. she cried. “You’re a bit too 'suWr. " I’ve no mother, halfbreed or otherwise, to advise me, my dear Reggie. I must be my own -chaperon. You charge Captain Hardy with trying to play me. Yet when be spoke* to me of his love he also spoke of marriage." Vandervyn’s eyes narrowed and as quickly widened in their most childlike stare. “How can you,' Marie?” he reproached. “You say that as if you think I have been trifling with you all these months, when you know as well as I — But of course, If you do not trust me, I have no show against him.

“You've Been Riding With Him Every Day?"

He is free. I am, as you know, tied down by the uncertainty of my position.” “That is quite sad, Is It not?” she mocked. “I am rather more fortunate. Whether or not there is any uncertainty about my position, I am not bound to anyone, nor am I bound to bind myself to anyone.” “Why are you so hard to me?” he pleaded. “You know that if my unde got even a hint that I am interested in a girl out here it would be all off with me. He doesn’t know what you are like, and it would be impossible in writing to convince him how charming you ar%” “What a misfortune I Only, as it happens, I have no wish to marry Senator Clemmer, He already has a wife.” “That’s just it —a wife and half a dozen daughters. It’s all cut and dried that I am to marry Ella, the oldest unmarried one.” _ “Ah —so that is why-—” faltered Marie, the rich color ebbing from her cheeks. But she vfhs oply momentarily overcome. Her spirit rallied almost as soon as it drooped. “It is most kind of you, Mr. Vandervyn, to tell me the delightful secret. Permit me to congratulate you.” “I His brows, peaked in a! doleful frown. “You are cruel to take it that way. I don’t love the girl. You ought to know that —yo#do know it! Can’t you see the hole I’m In? Even £f It wasn’t for Ella, they’d all think of you as a—an agency girl. I wouldn’t stand a ghost of a show of being appointed agent when Hardy quits.” ’ “Does he intend to quit?” "If you turn him down, he’ll leave just as soon as he finds the tribe still against him. , Then—don’t you see, sweetheart? —I shall get the appointment as agent. Your father and I can rip into the little old mine'as fast as we please. It’s a real mine, sweetheart. In a few months we’ll have enough ore shipped to the smelter for me to-cut loose from my uncle amt do as I please. You-know what that means.” Again he came toward her, his eyes softly glowlng» his arms open to embrace her. And again she eluded hißhthis time with no hesitancy or wavering. Her smile showed she was once more in control of her emotions. “Aren’t you rather previous, Reggie?” she asied, from the other side* of the tea table. “We are not yet engaged.” . • “You coquette!” he cried. “You know I can’t formally propose 'to you until I have got rid of Ella.” C “How honorable you are!” she praised him, and he could detect no irony in her voice ot look, Vandervyn stifled an oath. “By— I’ll have you yet! You shan’t get away from me 1” "Indeed f” she mocked, though she

quivered passionate ardor In his voice. To cover ter emotion shf shrugged as only a woman of French blood can shrug. '(‘That is to be seen, Mr. Vandervyn. And now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, Jl must give a fair share of my time /to my other devoted suitor.” She slipped out onto the porch before Vandervyn could Interfere. He t muttered a curse and went into the dining room to get one of Dupont’s whisky bottles out of the dainty little sideboard. _ * CHAPTEHLX. — l l9* ■ At the Broken Mountain. When, at dusk, Dupont rode up to his house, Hardy was still on the cot on the porch. Vandervynateod at the far end, puffing hard at a cigar as he watched Dupont approach. The sqdnd pf the trader’s bluff voice ‘wakened Hardy from\his doze and brought Marie -to the door. “No, not a track; not one single sign nefohere,” Dupont was saying to Vandetvyn. “Thought I’d ride in and send out more of the p’leece with JjpQd.'* “Very good,” said Hardy. “WspiUßt track down the man, else follow his example.” The- next day the search would-be assassin was continued!, tflWr no better results than the first. the same on the two succeeding daffe. At last Ddpont declared that there was no hope of finding the mysterious lost trail, and called In the trackers. .4*- - - The period of the search had been as agreeable to Hardy as it had been annoying to Vandervyn. To check Vandervyn’s wooing—or it may have been to redouble his ardor through jealousy*—she spent as much time as possible in Hardy’s company. She was so gracious that Hardy began to show openly that he thought he might have a fighting chance to win her. This made Vandervyn furious, Ypt he had to restrain himself from any outburst. Noon of the fourth day Hardy stated at dinner that he was quite himself again and would start on the trip into the mountains the next morning. Redbear had not yet returned to the agency, and Dupont, In his friendliest manner, offered his services as interpreter until the halfbreed should Join the party.

When Hardy accepted this offer, Vandervyn looked at him in his guileless way and remarked In a casual tone: “With the tribe so uneasy, I suppose you will want me to stay here and look after Marie.” Marie objected: “I am a member of the tribe. If Pere Is going Into the mountains, I am going with him.” “No!” cried Vandervyn. “I cannot permit that,” declared Hardy. * “Oh, yes, you can and will," confidently replied the girl. “I shall be In no danger. If anyone is attacked, It will be you only.” t: Unobservant of Vandervyn’s look, Dupont paused with a knifeful of food halfway to his mouth to agree with his daughter: “Ain’t none of ’em what wants to lift her scalp. She’d be safer ’n me and you, Mr. Van—which la good -as saying dead safe.” “Yet If I should be attacked?” said Hardy. “If you are, it won’t be no general outbreak, Cap. It will be a few young bloods a-laying for you, or mebbe just one, like the buck dope down at the coulee.” “You see,” argued Marie. “You ara the only one In danger of attack. If Reggie and I go, as well as Pere, there will be that much less chance ofh) small party firing at you.” “Very well,” acquiesced Hardy. “I rely on your father’s judgment. If there is the slightest chance of danger to you, he should know It. But as you are to be with the party, I shall take along a squad of police. Mr. Vendervyn, you may remain In charge of the agency, if you prefer.” * “No, thanks,” snapped Vandervyn. “If you intend to let Marie run the risk of getting Into a massacre, I most certainly shall go along." The girl was unusually gracious to Hardy at supper. At breakfast’she divided her smiles between the two with strict Impartiality. But when, shortly before sunrise, the party started off up the valley, Hardy began talking about tribal customs with Dupont and became so engrossed In the discussion that he failed to give his usual courteous attention to Marie. Vandervyn was quick to make the most of the girl’s pique. The half-dozen Indian police of the escort were strung out In front with the pack horses. He suggested that it would be well to avoid the dust by getting In the lead.

. “ '."v*' Do you believe that Marla la deliberately aiding the plotters against Hardy, and do you fear an ambuscade for the new agent on th|s visit to the Indians? " ■ (TO BE CONTINUKDJI