Manuel, a Mexican of the West, loved his wife more dearly than life itself. He saw her take sick and her ailment assumed that even to his inexperienced eye spelled death. Desperate, Manuel went to the doctor, and the doctor, kind-hearted soul, came, wrote a prescription and left. Away to the drug store went Manuel. The prescription filled, the druggist refused to deliver it without money, and Manuel had none. Out again went Manuel, arms flying, his head dizzy with unhappiness. There stood some horses belonging to the boys, Manuel, knowing it certain death, stole a sorrel mare, sold it to a suspicious looking stable proprietor, hastened to the drug store, got his prescription and dashed home. The wife of Manuel was slowly dying. Frantically Manuel poured out the medicine, but it was too late. Just then the sheriff, leading a band of determined cowpunchers broke into the room. They were about to seize him but the sheriff raised his arm. A sweeping glance showed him the true nature of the crime. The dying woman raised her head, stared at the intruders and fell back lifeless. And the Manuel, raising his hands toward the sheriff announced that he was ready, but the boys, instead removed their hats and filed slowly out of the room, leaving Manuel, hated Greaser, alone with his precious dead. - Moving Picture World, March 1, 1913