The great sun went down through the golden dust and the crowd finally began to disperse. Arkansas and Alphonse had left the race track. She had leaped into the wagon unaided. Alphonse had followed and sat down by her. At that moment she beheld, pale and ghostly through the haze, the full orb of the rising moon. She was seen to whisper something into Alphonse's ear, to give him a single, tender glance, then to jump from the wagon and start off, running toward the west. Alphonse turned deathly pale. He not only had heard what she had whispered, he knew her he knew her from the life lines on her hoofs to the hair on her back. With a mere wave of farewell to his mother, he leaped out of the wagon, unhitched Bonny, mounted her like a flash and was gone! The assembled thousands stood spell-bound. They saw Arkansas running rapidly, her blue trophies fluttering in the air. She turned her head at times to see if Alphonse was following. Indeed he was! Never had Bonny run as then, except perhaps the night when they stole the baby pig. The throng watched them breathlessly, until at the crest of a hill they saw faintly a last flutter of the blue ribbon on Alphonse's hat; then they broke as one man, rushed to the swift saddle horses, and made off in a mad pursuit of Alphonse and Arkansas. Ride hard, brave men and courageous boys! Gallop, horses! Cut into tatters the prairies and the fields! You do not know that the flutter of blue over the hill was the last you are ever to see of the unfortunate Alphonse Jaccard! . . There are those who will tell you, my listeners, that this whole affair is only a dream-that it never happened. They were not present. Do not believe them! For months, tales drifted in from the Indians and traders to the west and southwest of us-tales of a phantom pig and a spectre horseman, of their furious course, of beseeching cries, songs and whistlings heard in the night. Piously and with sinking hearts we pieced together these rumors. Alas! there could be no doubt! Arkansas, running true to her architecture, had described a vast curve, which turned gradually toward the south, with all the inevitability of mathematics! Finally, an Indian brought in the hat of Alphonse, still decked, O pathos with a piece of blue ribbon. He had found it in the direction of the Verdigris River, two hundred miles away! Then the most stupid among us understood. Arkansas had transcribed her inherited curve across the limitless prairies and desolate plains of Kansas Territory, down through the corner of Indian Territory and into her native State of Arkansas, carrying in her wake her beloved master. APPENDIX MARY ARBUCKLE Born at Hanover, Indiana, November 3, 1889. Lived for some time in Texas. Studied short story at Columbia. At present in New York City, engaged in secretarial work and in writing. Stories: Freedom and Robbie May-Sunset, November 1917 Big Rich-McCall's, October 1920 Wasted-The Midland, May 1921 66 reprinted, Current Opinion, October 1921 Half a Loaf-Argosy All Story Weekly, May 19, 1923 AGNES MARY BROWNELL Born July 28, 1874. Died at Concordia, Kansas, January 21, 1921. For most of her life a teacher of music at Concordia, Kansas. Stories: The Fifer-Youth's Companion, June 1917 The Secret Chamber-Delineator, July 1919 313 Oxalis-Delineator, February 1920 Coquette-McCall's, May 1920 Relation-Pictorial Review, June 1920 Forty Love-McCall's, July 1920 The Cure The Midland, September 1920 Doc Greer's Practice-The Midland, January 1921 The Thankful Spicers (Stories for children)—Scrib- GEORGE CARVER Born at Cincinnati, Ohio, December 19, 1888. Studied at the University of Alabama, the University of Chicago, and Miami University. Stories: In a Moment of Time-Stratford Journal, September About the Sixth Hour-Reedy's Mirror, March 1921 The Door-The Black Cat, December 1922 HENRY GOODMAN Born in Roumania, May 30, 1893. One of the founders and joint editors of Clay, a literary quarterly published in New York City. Engaged in business and literary work in New York City. Stories: The Stone-The Pictorial Review, and in O'Brien's Thomas-The Midland, May 1922 When the Tide Rises-The Bookman, March 1923 One of Them-The Midland, May 1923 W. DON HARRISON Born at Birmingham, England, November 14, 1892. B.A. and M.A. at the University of Iowa. Graduate study at King's College, University of London. For some time engaged in journalistic work as a member of the editorial staff of the Des Moines, Iowa, News, Des Moines Tribune, and Des Moines Register, and as a special correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor. Thirty-one months in the United States Army, with service on Mexican border, in France, and in England. Instructor in English at the University of Iowa, and at Iowa State College; university editor at the Municipal University of Akron, Ohio; now assistant professor of English at the University of Pittsburgh. Stories: The Mixing-The Midland, July 1919 RAYMOND KNISTER Born at Ruscomb, Essex County, Ontario, May 27, 1899. Lived chiefly on farms there and at Cedar Springs, Kent County, ever since. Writes criticisms and reviews for Canadian magazines and newspapers. Stories: The One Thing-The Midland, January 1922 The Straw Stack-Canadian Forum, October 1923 Essays: The Canadian Short Story-Canadian Bookman, August 1923 Poems: Seven Poems-The Midland, December 1922 Two Poems-The Midland, October 1923 |