HEART
oftho *
SUNSET
c#7 REX BEACt\
i Author of “The Spoilers," “ The Iron Trail,'
“The Silver Horde** Etc.
***»*.«t
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Set afoot and alone by an
accident In the desert near the Rio Grande
Mrs. Alatre Austin, mistress of Las Pal
*las La Feria ranches, meets Dave
Daw, Texas Ranger, at a water hole and
Is compelled to spend the night there with
nun, as he is in amhush for a murderer
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER II—Next day at evening the ^
murderer appears with a companion.
CHAPTER III—I.aw captures the mur
derer but is compelled to kill his compan
ion. Panfllo Sanchez, who happens to be
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's horsebreaker,
Jose Sanchez.
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Alaire
tells her husband, Ed, that his carousals
and inebriety must stop. Her cattle
at I-a Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con
fiscated by Longorlo, Mexican federal
general, and she finds that It Is because
Ed has been helping the rebel junta.
CHAPTER VI—Entertained at. their
home by Blaze Jones and his daughter
Paloma, Dave hears something about the
Tad I^ewls outfit, which is suspected of
cattle stealing. With Ricardo Guzman and
Ills boys Dave and Blaze go on a scout
after cattle thieves.
CHAPTER VII—Law catches two of the
l^ewis outfit branding a stolen calf and In
a fight kills one and has his horse shot
under him. He trails the other thief to
Las Palmas, where he Is Insulted by Ed
Austin, whom he knows to be very friend
ly with the Lewis outfit
CHAPTER VIII—Law follows up the
trail of Urbina, the escaped thief, to no
purpose except to confirm Austin’s con
nection with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER IX—On her homeward Jour
ney Alaire again meets Ivongorto, who
openly makes love to her. She obtains
the release of Juan Garcia from prison.
CHAPTER X—Jose Sanchez swears to
find out the truth about the slaying of
Panfllo. Dave gets further Information
about the Lewis outfit. Ricardo Guzman
goes to Mexico to sell horses to the fed
erate.
CHAPTER XI—Dave and Alaire attend
the Las Palmas rodeo. She presents Dave
with a horse to replace the one killed by
the cattle thieves. They discuss the kill
ing of Panfllo.
CHAPTER XII—Guzman does not re
turn from Mexico and his reported killing
arouses Americans. Dave and Blaze ar
range to go to Romero across the river
and recover the body. Jose hears tiiat
Dave killed Panfllo and goes to Join Lon
gorlo. Paloma and Alaire arrange lo go
to the river to await the return of Blaze
and Dave. Longorlo appears at I^ts Pal
mas with an escort and overhears Ed
telephoning news of the trip after Guz
man to Tad Lewis.
CHAPTER XTII—Longorlo compels Ed
tff go *to the river wttmble. The girls
follow and hide In the nuinphtuise. The
Lewis outfit appears. When Blaze and
Dave cross the river a general mix-up is
prevented by Captain Evans and his rang
ers who appear on the scene and support
Dave. Dave arrests Urbina.
CHAPTER XIV—Blaze dodges dress
makers and fortune tellers.
CHAPTER XV-Strange, a fortune tell
er. warns Dave that Jose Is cooking up
trouble for him and Alalre. Dave goes to
Bee her and in a moment of emotional
stress they confess their love.
CHAPTER XVI—Ed, who had disap
peared after the Guzman Incident, comes
back and Alalre decides to divorce him.
She writes to her lawyer and to Dave.
Jose carries Dave's letter to Dongorio,
who orders him to kill Ed.
CHAPTER Xjm-Alalre moves to di
vorce Ed. War wifi Mexico seems immi
nent Dave comes to the Jones home
sick. Strange warns him that Alalre Is
gone to La Eeria and Is In great danger.
CHAPTER XVIII—Dave goes to I-as
Palmas and arrives just after the murder
of Ed Austin.
CHAPTER XIX—He rounds up Jose,
gives him the water cure and gets from
him confession that he killed Ed, then
starts for Da Ferla to protect Alalre.
whom he knows Ixmgorlo will capture. He
instructs Blaze to give the whole matter
the widest publicity and to send Ellsworth
to Washington to sing battle hymns.
CHAPTER XX-At Da Kerla Alalre
finds that she Is Dongorlo’s prisoner.
CHAPTER XXI—Dongorlo woos Alalre
and brings a priest to marry them that
night.
CHAPTER XXII—Dave wins through
to I-a Kerla and the priest marries Alalre
to him during Dongorlo's temporary ab
sence.
CHAPTER XXIII—The priest plays on
Dongorlo’s Inordinate vanity until he con
sents to send Alalre and Dave away to the
border.
“Yes. And to get him.” Alalre saw
his face twitch, and realized that it
wus very haggurd, very old and tired.
“They lifted my guns—a bunch of fel
lows at the Itio Negro crossing. Some
of them were drunk and wouldn’t be
lieve I was an umigo. So I fiuully had
to ride for It."
“Can't you take me away?” she
asked, faintly. “What will you do
when—he comes?”
“I reckon I'll manage hint somehow.”
His grip upon her tightened painfully,
and she could feel him tremble. "I
was afraid I wouldn't find you. I—
O God, Alulre!" He buried his face
in her hair.
“I hud ut terrible scene with him last
night. He insists 4pon marrying me.
I—1 wus hoping you’d come.”
"How could I, when nobody knew
where you were?”
“Didn’t you know? I wrote you.” He
sh<>ok his head. “Then how did you
learn?”
“From Jose. I caught him within an
hour of the murder, and made him tell
me everything.”
Alaire’s eyes dilated; she held her
self away, saying, breathlessly: “Mur
der! Is that what it was? He—Lon
uorlo—told me something quite differ
ent.”
“Naturally. It was he who hired Jose
to do the shooting.”
“Oh-h!” Alaire hid her face in her
hands. Slip looked up again quickly,
however, and her cheeks were white.
“Then he won’t spare you, Pave.” She
choked for an instant. “We must get
away before he conies. There must be
some way of escape. Think!"
“I’m pretty tired to think. I'm pretty
near played out,” he confessed.
“They’re watching me, but they'd
let you go.”
“Now that I’m here I’m going to stay
until—”
She interrupted, crying his name
loudly, “Pave!”
“Yes. What is It?”
“Wait! Let me think.” She closed
her eyes; her brows drew together as
if in the labor of concentration. When
she lifted her lids her eyes were alight,
her voice was eager. “I know how. I
see it. He won’t dare— But you must
do what I tell you.”
“Of course.”
“No questions. Understand?"
When he nodded impatiently she ran
to the door and, flinging it open, called
down the hall:
“Father! Father O'Malley ! Quick!"
JT.pn she summoned Polores.
The priest answered; he hurried
from his room and, with a dazed lack
of comprehension, acknowledged his
swift Introduction to Dave. Alaire was
keenly alive ami vibrant with purpose
now. Dolores, too, came running, and
while the men were exchanging greet
ings her mistress murmured something
in her ear, then hastened her depar
ture with a quick push. Turning upon
the others, Alaire explained:
“I've sent for some of the women,
and they’ll be here in a minute. Fa
ther, this man has come for me. He
loves me. Will you marry us before
Longorio arrives?”
Aiaire: nave exeiaimea.
She stilled him with a gesture.
“Quick! Will you?”
Father O’Malley was bewildered. “1
don’t understand," he expostulated.
“Nor 1,” echoed Dave.
“You don’t need to understand. 1
know what I'm doing. I’ve thought oi
a way to save us all.”
An incoherent refusal was upon his
lips, but Alulre’s fuce besought him; it
was shining with a strange, new ecs
tasy, and he could not bring himself to
deny her. Of what her plan consisted
he had only the dimmest Idea, but he
assured himself that it could by no
possibility succeed. After all, what did
It matter? he agked himself. They were
trapped. This might serve, somehow,
to cheat Longorio, and—Alaire would
be his wife.
“Very well,” he stammered^weakly.
“What are you thinking of?”
“I huven’t thought it ull out yet,
but—”
At that moment Dolores returned,
bringing with her the three black
haired, black-shawled house servants,
bundling them through the door and
ranging them along the wall.
Father O'Malley’s face was puck
ered; he said, hesitatingly: “My dear
madam, this isn’t regular; you are not
Catholics. How can I bless you?”
"You can marry us legally, just the
same, can't you?” Alaire was breath
ing rapidly, and some part of her eager
ness began to thrill her hearers.
"Oh yes, but—”
“Then marry us. And make haste,
please 1 Please 1”
Law nodded. He could not spenk,
for his mouth was dry. His heart was
heating violently; his temples were
pounding; all the blood of his body
seemed centered in his head.
Kefore the eyes of the four wonder
ing women Father O’Malley married
them. It seemed to Alaire that he
would never reach the end, although, in
fact, he stumbled through the cere
mony swiftly. Alaire clipped his last
words short by crying:*
“Tell these people so that they’ll un
derstand what it all means. Tell them
to remember they have seen a mar
riage by the church.”
The priest did as he was directed,
and his audience signified their under
standing. Then Dolores led them out.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Man of Destiny.
I “Now, then. I'll explain,” said Alaire.
turning to the men. “Longorlo declares
he won't have me except us his wife,
and I think he means It. He Is amaz
ingly egotistical. lie lias tremendous
ambitions. He thinks this war Is his
great opportunity, and lie means to be
president—lie’s sure of It. He loves
me, but he loves himself better, I’m
sure. Now, don’t you see? He’ll have
to choose oue or the other.”
Father O’Malley did not appear to
appreciate the full force of tills rea
soning. "My dear,” he said, gravely,
“he can make you a widow again. In
such times us these men are savages.”
"Oh, hut that's not all.” Alaire
turned to her newly made husband.
“They let you in, and they’ll let you
out again—If you go quickly, before
j It'jj. known wliut we’vg. doye,"
Dave stared at her in bewilderment.
“I? I go, and—lenve you?” lie seemed
doubtful of her sanity.
“Yes.” When he laughed shortly.
Alaire cried : “Dave, you must 1 Don’t
you see what I’m driving at? If he
can’t marry me, if he finds you’re gone
and he can’t lay hands on you, what
can he do hut let me go? Dave dear,
for my sake, for the sake of us both—”
“You’re excited,” he told her, and
drew her to himself gently.
“Please! Please!” she Implored.
“You don’t know that man,” said
Father O'Malley, with conviction.
But Alnire Insisted, half hystericall.v
now: “I do; that’s just it, I do know
him. Tie is planning the greatest things
for himself, his head ig in the clouds,
and he daren't do the things he used
to do. That’s why I called in those
women ns witnesses. He can’t put
them out of the way. With Dave gon£
I'll he safe. He can't Ignore our mar
riage. But otherwise— There’s no
•telling what he may do. Why, he'll kill
you, Dave, as he killed Ed.” She up
turned a face eloquent with pleading.
"Won’t you do this for me?”
“No!” Law declared, firmly. “You
wouldn't ask it if you were in your
senses. Get me a gun and I’ll shoot
my way out. We’ll go until they stop
us. P>ut don’t ask me to leave you.”
She searched his face eagerly, pite
ously, then with a quivering sigh re
laxed her tension. “Then we’te only
made matters worse. You’ve spoiled
our only chance.”
Father O'Malley, who had been lost
In thought, spoke up again: “Perhaps
you will let me try my wits. But first,
do I understand that It was he who ef
fected the death of—Mr. Austin?”
Dave recounted as coherently as he
could the circumstances of Ed’s death, 1
and told how he had learned, through i
Jose, of Longorio's intentions. As the
priest listened a spot of color grew In
his cheeks, his eyes glowed with indig
nation. He was nbout to make known
what was in his mind when Alaire
raised her hand and in a strained
whisper exclaimed:
“ ’Sh-h ! Listen !”
i ne neavy uoor or me nacieuua
creaked, a quick tread sounded on the
tiles, the door to the living room was
flung open, and Longorio entered. He
was hot and dusty from his ride, but
with a lover’s impetuosity he had made
straight for this lighted room.
For the briefest instant he balanced
himself just Inside the portal, and the
smile remained fixed upon his lips.
Then his eyes became ringed with
white and he made a swift, catlike
movement of retreat. Plainly this was
the supremest surprise of his lifetime,
and he seemed to doubt ids senses. But
he recovered quickly. Thrusting his
head forward, he demanded :
“What is this? You—and you?” He
stared from Dave to the priest, then
back again.
They all spoke at once, but he heard
only Alaire's words:
“He came to find me.”
Fancho appeared in the doorway be
hind Longorio, saying, “I heard you
ride up, sir, so I run to tell you about
this fellow.”
But the general cut him short. “Call
your men, quick,” he cried in a voice
that sent the soldier leaping buck into
the night.
Alaire was clinging to Dave, merely
clutching him the tighter when he tried
to unclasp her hold. Her movement
into the shelter of his rival’s arms in
furiated Longorio, who uttered an ex
clamation and fumbled uncertainly
with his holster. But his fingers were
clumsy. He could not take his eyes
from the pair, and he seemed upon the
point of rushing forward to tear them
apnrt.
“Don’t touch her! Don’t—” he be
gan, cursing in u high-pitched voice.
“God ! What a reckoning !” Then he
stamped his feet, he wrung his hands,
he called shrilly at the top of Ids voice:
“Lieutenant! Ho, Pancho! You fel
lows ! Quickly!” Under the stress of
his excitement the feminine side of his
character betrayed itself.
Alaire felt her newly made husband
gather himself for a spring; he wus
muttering to her to release him; he
was trying to push her aside, but she
held fust with the strength of despera
tion.
“You cnn’t harm us,” she declared,
flinging her words defiantly at the
Mexican. “You dare not. You are too
late. Father O’Malley has just mar
ried us.” %
Longorio uttered a peculiar, wordless
cry of dismay; his mouth fell open;
his arms dropped; he went limp afl
“This Is the Man I Love—the Only
Man."
over, paralyzed momentarily by sur
prise and horror; his eyes troubled; he
swayed as If his sight had blurred.
“I silliii- LJ never u -rv i.oU ” Shi
rushed" on, vibrantly. “This is the ninn
I love—the only man. Yes, and I’ve
learned the truth about you. I know
who killed Mr. Austin.”
Longorio did a very unexpected
thing then; slowly, unconsciously, as if
the movement w ere the result of a lialf
forgotteu trulnlng, he crossed himself.
But now from the hall at his buck
cnme the pounding of boot-heels, and a
half-dozen panting troopers tumbled
through the door. He waved them back
and out Into the hall again.
Father O’Malley, who had been try
ing to make himself heard, stepped in
front of the general and said, solemn
ly : “Take care what you do, Longorio.
I have married these people, and you
can’t undo what I have done. We are
American citizens. The laws of civili
zation protect us.”
The Mexican fought for his voice
then stammered: “You are m.v priest;
1 brought you here. I offered to marry
her. Now—you force me to damn my
soul.” Turning his eyes wildly upon
Alaire, he shouted: "Too late, eh?
You say I am too late! It seems that I
am barely in time."
Dave added his words to the others:
“You are ten to one, but you can’t have
her,” he cried, defiantly. “Jose San
chez confessed to the murder of Mr.
Austin, und toN how you had got Mrs.
Austin to come here. The whole thing
is known in Washington and Mexico
1 City by this time. The newspapers
have it; everybody knows you are
keeping her as your prisoner, und that
I have come for her. If she is harmed,
all Mexico, all the world, will know
that you are worse than a murderer.”
Longorio reached behind his back
and slammed the door in the faces of
his listening men.
“What is this? What did Jose con
fess?” he inquired, sharply.
“He swears you hired him."
I "Bah ! The word of a pelador.”
In spite of the man’s contemptuous
Tune L»uve saw the expression in his
face and made a quick decision.
“There’s a limit to what you dare to do,
Longorio. I’m unarmed; I make no re
sistance, so there is no excuse for vio
lence. I surrender to you, and claim
protection for myself and my wife.”
But Longorio was not to he tricked.
“Good!” he cried, triumphantly. "1
huve been looking forward to some
thing like this, and I shall give myself
a great pleasure.” He laid a hand up
on the door-knob, but before he could
turu it the Catholic priest had him by
the arm, and with a strength surprising
In one of his stature wrenched him
away. Father O’Malley's fuee was
white and terrible; his voice was deep,
menacing; the hand he raised above
Longorio seemed to brandish a weapon.
“Stop!” he thundered. “Are you a
madman? Destruction hangs over you:
destruction of body and soul. You dare
not separate those whom God hatli
joined.”
"God ! God 1" the other shrilled. “1
don't believe in him. I am a god; 1
know of no other.”
“Blasphemer!” roared the little man.
“Listen, then. So surely as you harm
these people, so surely do you kill your
earthly prospects. You, the first man
In Mexico, the dictator indeed! Think
what you are doing before it is too late.
Is your dream of greatness only a
dream? Will you sacrifice yourself
and all your aspirations in the heat of
this unholy and impossible passion?
Tonight, now, you must choose whether
you will be faihous or infamous, glori
ous or shameful, honored or dishon
ored ! Restrain your hatred and con
quer your lust, or forego forever your
dreams of empire and pass into ob
livion."
“You are a meddler,” Longorio
stormed. “You make u loud noise, hut
I shall rid Mexico of your kind. We
shall have no more of you priests.”
Father O’Malley shook the speaker
as a parent shakes nn unruly child.
"See! You have completely lost your
head. But I wunt you to listen to what
I am saying. Whether you are more
good than evil, God must judge, hut
the people of Mexico are good people,
and they will not he ruled by a man
who Is wholly bad. You have the power
to remove this man and this woman,
yes, and this priest who dares to point
| out the pit at your feet; hut If you d<
you will never command another Mexi
can army. There Is no war. We are
not your enemies. The world knows
we are here, and it holds you account
able for our safety. Tomorrow you
will have to fuce the reckoning.”
Longorio listened. It was plain thnt
he recognized the truth of O’Malley’s
words, but he was convulsed with rage.
“Good!” he cried. “I see my dreams
dissolve, but I am not the llrst greut
man to trade an empire for a woman.
Antony, the Roman general, laid his
honor In a woman's arms. I had a
shining destiny, hut Mexico will he the
sufferer by my betrayal. Instead ol
Longorio the Deliverer, 1 shall be
known as Longorio the Lover, the man
who gave ull—"
O'Malley interrupted forcefully
“Enough of this! Come with me. 1
have something more to say to you.”
lie tlung open the door Into the hall
and, taking the general by the arM.
fairly drugged him from the room and
into the one opposite. The lieutenant
and his men looked on In amazement,
shuttling their feet and shifting theli
ritle-butts noisily upon the floor.
Alatre turned an anxious face to
Dave, saying: “lie is wonderful. Lon
gorio Is almost—afraid of him.”
j “Yes; he may bring him to his
| senses. If he doesn’t—” Dave cast
I his eyes desperately over the room
conscious all the time that he was he-,
ing watched with suspicion by the men
outside. He stirred restlessly and
moistened his lips. “Longorio would
be crazv. to injure you.” '
(Continued Next Week.)
GAINS IN UNITED STATES 1
SINCE JANUARY FIRST
Woman Suffrage Now in More Than Half The Area of U. $.—
Woman Voting Strength Nearly Doubled Since
t the First of January. ' wm
Nebraska’8 TT.u^U square mill
area in which women may vote si
more than half of continental I n
biggest states in the Union are i
1 total number of women of votini
complete, suffrage has been grant
of this number has been gained
The total number of electoral col
ticipate in choosing at the next p
a total of 531.
Ninteen states of the Union now
give women a right to vote for Presi
dent of the United States.
North Dakota led the whole pro
cession of 1917 suffrage victories—the
first state into the suffrage fold in
the National American Woman Suf
frage Association’s drive for presi
dential suffrage. Ohio was the first
. of the newly victorious states east
j of the Mississippi to come into her
own, and Indiana is the first state
to let women vote upon their own
enfranchisement, though the women
of Wyoming territory did this in 1890
On March 6, Governor Brough of
Arkansas signed a bill giving women
a new and effective form of suffrage,
the right to vote in primary elections.
Arkansas being the first state to pass
this measure.
Suffrage a War Measure.
Woman suffrage lias become a war
measure in Ungland, Canada. Russia,
and France. Rhode Island is the first
date in the Union to adopt, suffrage
as a part of our national prepared
ness. On April 19—Wake Up America
Day—the message ran forth to every
village and farm that Michigan wo
men were going to he free to vote,
in presidential elections, thus sound
ing the note of preparedness for the
national crisis in the Middle West.
Then came Nebraska with its eight
electoral college votes and its addi
tion of 318 903 women of voting age
to the suffrage forces.
of territory haK raised the total
de by side with men to a fraction
ited States. Eleven of the fifteen
low under the suffrage flag.. The
it age to whom complete, or-near
ed, is now 8,557,308; 48 pof’cent.
since the first of January, 1917.
lege votes which women may par
iresidential election is 172—out of
1 Besides the signal successes in
these seven states. North Dakota,
Ohio, Indiana, Arkansas, Rhode Is
land, Michigan, and Nebraska, there
have been legislative victories of more
or less importance in eleven other
i states since January.
Bills for full suffrage by amend
ments to their state constitutions have
passed the 1917 legislatures of New
York, Maine, South Dakota, Iowa. Ok
lahoma and Michigan.
In New York and Maine, the en
franchisement of women will be voted
on this year In South Dakota, Ok
lahoma and Michigan it will be voted
on In 1918.
WHERE THE SUFFRAGE FLAG
FLOATS
To recapitulate, the suffrage cause
has this year annexed 388.314 square
miles of territory. Up to the end of
i 1916, suffrage extended over 1,205.
329 square miles, or 29 per cent, of
continental United States, not includ
ing Alaska. On April 22nd of this
year, the suffrage flag floated over
1,543,643 square miles, or 50.9 per
cent. Including Alaska, where women
have suffrage on the same terms as
men, 2.134.627 square miles, or 57
per cent, of the total possessions of the
United States, except the newly ac
quired Virgin Islands, are noty under
the banner of freedom. This area is
a long way out of the “Half slave
and half free” type of democracy
which still prevails in the other 43
per cent, of the United States!
“EAST IS EAST AND WEST IS WEST," BUT THE WEST HAS EQUAL
SUFFRAGE.
Does Equal Suffrage "Feminize?”
Quoting; from the re. ent govern
ment report as to the proportionate
remitting for the regular army in
the various states during April, Mrs.
Minnie J. Reynolds cites these
figures: "The average per cent,
of their quota recounted hy the far
western states, practically all of
which have equal suffrage, was 29.5
per cent. In the Middle West, where
five states have given their women
In3 fr3 fn3 fnl fnl fnJ fnl HQ fnl fnl frO fnl TO fnl fit) [73 fnl fr3 fnl HQ fnl HQ fnl HO fnl fi
! presidential suffrage, tbe per cent, was
: 18.!*. and in eastern states, it was only
10.8. It would seem that the voting
woman has not ‘feminized’ the West
to any extent, and it would seem
that the eort of men who respond
first to their country’s call are the
sort who give their women the vote.
It would he interesting to know how
many of the men who are sure that
women ought not to vote because
they cannot tight have responded to
the call to arms.”
iranararanararaifGWfsiraraiiararararawnirananBfSTOisra
The Woman With a Country
I v With Apologia* to tht Author of
■ “The Man Without a Country. ’*
1 By Helen Rowland
if need be, for
Copyright, 1917 by the I'rew* Publishing Co. (The New York Kvening World).
Always,
They have said of her, > ,
“Why shall she vote? , _ f.vi
“In time of war, what could SHE do to defend her Country—If she hid one
“Poor, foolish, tender, clinging, helpless little thing!
"How she babbles of ‘Equality!’
"SHE—who trembles in a thunderstorm.
And shudders at the booming of a sunset gun!
“Why shall she vote? SHE cannot fight, and kill and die
her Country!”
Well,
It has come HER Hour! F
And, with her “tender, clinging, helpless’ hands.
She Is making munitions—for England.
With her soft, white, useless fingers she is fashioning shell
A hundred deaths in every one of them!
Everywhere, she is ploughing, planting, gathering, s (
Sowing, reaping, harvesting, i
And thus saving thousands of live* s / fi~ W % V>
For Her Country. JT