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McCarter, Margaret Hill, 1860-1938

"Vanguards of the Plains"

I
believe he would murder Marcos if the boy got in his way, and his
threats of disgracing me were terrible."
"But what else happened?" I wanted to turn her away from her wretched
memory.
"I have not seen anybody else except Little Blue Flower. She has an
Indian admirer who is Ferdinand's tool and spy. He let her come in to
see me late last night or I should not have been here now. I had almost
given up when she brought me word that you and Beverly would meet me at
the church at daylight. I have not slept since. What will be the end of
this day's work? Isn't there safety for me somewhere?" The sight of the
fair, sad face with the hunted look in the dark eyes cut me to the soul.
"Jondo said last night that the battle was on and he would fight it out
in Santa Fe to-day. It is our work to go where the Hopi blossom leads
us, and Bev Clarenden and I will not let anything happen to you."
I meant what I said, and my heart is always young when I recall that
morning ride toward the San Christobal Arroyo and my abounding vigor and
confidence in my courage and my powers.
Our trail ran into a narrow plain now where a yellow band marked the way
of the San Christobal River toward the Rio Grande.


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