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XShe OCKSHEPETUVA Vol. I Sheridan. Wyoming, October. 1908 JVo. | WHO WAS THE CRIMINAL? | By Josephine Adams, ’ll. :• 'I- v . 5 £ f vfr'J fr ! 5» ‘ 3 f I v It was the second day of the new year, and It was Icy cold. In a small room on the upper floor of a tenement house in Kansas City, a girl, not more than 18, sat by the bedside of a small boy who w’as evidently quite ill. She was sewing industriously. The boy was propped up in b?d with a bowl of broth before him at which he was looking in a manner that showed it did not tempt his appetite. “Drink it. dear, said the girl, “and tomorrow I will buy you some oranges when Mrs. Morton pays m? for this sewing.” “1 don’t want oranges,” said the boy, pevishly. “I want grapes.” “Alright, Paul, you shall have the grapes If you will only drink the broth.” The boy managed to drink the great? part, and soon after, dropped into a fitful steep. Hut the girl sewed on until she finished the sewing, and then went to bed. It was almost midnight and she was very tired for she had worked all day long. But even then, she could not steep but lay thinking and wondering how she would manage to get the fruit. She cou.d dot take the money she Would get tomorrow, for the rent was due, and she had to get more coal. Sh? would keep the room warm for the sick boy if she Went without food herself. At last she made up her mind that she Would take the money and for once indulge in some luxury for the sick boy. The next morning she overslept, but was finally awakened by the boy who was talking to himself about the grapes. After she had straightened the little room and made Paul as comfortable as possible, giving him books and pictures, with which to amuse himself, she put on her wraps, took the sewing, and started for the home of Mrs. Morton. It was quite a distance, and when she arrived, she was informed that Mrs. Morton Was about to start downtown, shopping. She w'as showrn into the sewing room. After Waiting a few' minutes, the lady came downstairs. After mentioning some slight alterations which she wished made in the dress, she said, “I cannot pay o i today for I have no money in the house and I will have to draw it from the bank. I will send it to you tomorrow,” Alice's heart sank Within her. She kiew that to enter any protest probably meant the loss of her most Wealthy and profitable customer. But she could not disappoint poor little Paul. He had talked of the grapes all morning and had hardly tasted his breakfast. Mustering her courage, she said, “Mrs. Morton, I must have the money today; my rent is due; I am out of coal, and besides, I have promised my brothei some grapes. ' Drawing herself up haughtily the lady said, “You will have to Wait until tomor row’. I am too busy to attend to it today. And then, as an afterthought, she addj i, “It seems to me that grapes are an expert3 sive luxury for you at this time of the year.” With this she passed out to her carriage. Whert she Was left alone, Alice, While making the alterations on the dress, sat wondering how she would be able to go home and tell Paul, “Oh, how could she be so heartless? ' she whispered, “and she has sb much, too. She glanced up and saw the butler pass the open door, carrying a basket of grapes into the dining room, and place them on the sideboard. Th injustice of it all rendered her for the moment desperate. The butler left the room, and, without a moment’s thought, she dropped the dress, went into the dining room, seized the grapes and hurried through the front door. As she w’ent, she heard a commotion behind her, but she stopped for nothing. Down streets and around corners she fled. But the butler had discovered his loss and was in pursuit. Summoning a policeman, he soon overtook her, and placed her under arrest. She w as then taken to a police station. While Mr. and Mrs. Morton sat talking in Mr. Morton’s private office, they received a telephone message from the butler, telling them of the theft of the grapes. Mrs
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4 THE OCKSHEPER1DA Morton was vary much shocked. She told the story of the girl to her husband, and when she got through, his face wore a very serious expression. “You are very much to blame, for you should not have led her into temptation. You must hasten, and have her released at once,” he said. When Mrs. Morton appeared at the police station, she explained to the judge the circumstances in such a way that he released the girl at once. She took Alice into her carriage and drove her to her home. And it is needless to say that little Paul received his grapes. When Alice had dried her tears, she tried to thank Mrs. Morton for her kindness and leniency. “Why did you do it when you knew that I was really guilty?” she asked. “My dear girl,” answered Mrs. Morton, “Do you think that I would let you suffer, when 1 was the cause of it all?”. In her heart she thought, ”1 wonder who was the criminal: she or I?” + | FOR LOVE OF HIS PONY By Clifford Goodnight, ’11. $ It was on a hot summer’s day and if we could have been down there, we would have seen a solitary man riding along the rolling plains, near the border of Mexico, on the back of a pinto. He was a young man. straight, and muscular, and was doing his vary best to get to the boundary line. If he could reach there before his pursuers caught him he was safe; if not,—well, he would pr )b.»biv ba strung up to the first tree he came to. The pinto was keeping a steady gallop and it could be told that he knew his rider and his rider knew him for the slightest movement on the part of the man was sufficient. He had made a long trip and the muscles and chords were strained almost to the limit and he was blowing hard. The young man noticed this and wondered If he would make it. There were only 75 miles left. But the plucky little horse kept on and on. Every onc3 in awhile the fugitive would scan the horizon narrowly. He kept on until evening and got off when it was dark; at a little of the cold lunch and gave his horse a couple of ears of corn. Then as the mcon came up. he was off again. He rode all night long and did not see any signs of his pursuers as yet. When morning came, his pony was nearly worn out. He got off in a hollow, and rested his pony awhile. After he had eaten his lunch, he started out again, the pony keeping his regulir gait, but he had not gone far when he broke and began walking. The young man saw it, and wondered if he could get there. There was only a short distance now between him and freedom. He always kept in the hollow as much a3 possible where the grass was deep. Letting the pinto rest awhile, he urged him on. He was doing his best, when down he went, throwing his rider into the grass. The young man got up, uninjured, but his faithful pony was lying there fjuiver- ing. He has sprained one of his front legs. His rider looked at him, and said “Well, I guess you are gone. But you have been very faithful to me. We’ve both been fighting against great odds—you against the fresh change of our pursuers.” He tried to comfort him and sat down to await the coming of his pursuers. He might as well give up. His head nodded and he fell into a deep sleep. When he was awakened, it was by the whinny of a horse. He looked around expecting to see his enemy, but instead, there stood a handsome, black horse, an old weather-worn saddle on his back, telling a sad tale. The horse was easily caught. Here was freedom. He could easily make it now. He cut off the old saddle and put on his own. He looked at his own faithful pony. There was a pleading look in his eye. How could he go away nnd leave his pony to be killed by the coyotes or wolves after he had been so faithful? But with a look of determination, he turned around.—What w'as the life of a horse against that of a human being? He mounted his horse and plunged ahead. He heard a pleading whinny behind him and looking around saw his pony trying to get up and follow. His heart softened and he stopped his horse and rode baca. Taking off his saddle and bridle he hit the fractious steed with the reins and the horse dashed away and was soon lost to sight. The young man sat down and mused. Perhaps he had done the wrong thing; perhaps he should have gone on and obtained his freedom, but he could not leave his pony, who had carried him so far. Then looking up. he saw reveral horsemen riding along the ridge. They stopped and scanned the hollow, and the young man. watching through the tall grass, saw them slowly ride on and disappear- from sight. They would go to the Mexican border, and not see a sign of their would-be victim.
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