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SJPI* --j.fi ,1 I \l mt ~xrr vl "H W am h*» Wbl( r' Danny's Own Story By DON MARQUIS 4 Copyright, 1912, by Doubleday, Page & Co. CHAPTER VII. Martha. -ID I She Wat Setting Up In the Tree Like a Boy. dumbhead, even If she is purty. So I don't say a word. I jest picks up tfiat book and*sticks it under my arm and walks away slow with it to where they was a stump a little ways off, not fur from the crick, and sets down with my back to her and opens it. And I was trying all the time to think of something smart to say to her. But I couldn't of done it if I was to be shot Still, I thinks to myself, no girl can sass me and not get sassed back, oeither. I hearn a scramble behind me which I knowed was her getting out of that tree. And in a minute she was in front of me, mad. •'Give me my book," she says. But I only reads the name of the book out loud, fur to aggervate her. I had on purty good duds, but I kind of wisht I had on my Injun rig then. You take the girls that alwkys comes down to see the passenger train come into the depot in them country towns agin, red /as one of tbem harvest ap ples, "or I'll tell Miss Hampton you stole it and she'll have you and your show arrested." •I reads the name agin. It was "The Lost Heir." I seen 1 bad her good and teased now, so 1 says, "It must be one of these here love stories by the way you take on over it" "It's not," she says, getting ready to cry. "And what right bave you got in our wood lot anyhow?" "Well,"'I says, "I was jest about to move on and climb out of it when you'hollered to me from that tree." "I didn't!" she says. But she was mad because sh£ knowed she bad spoke to me first, and she was awful sorry «be had. She began to walk away and "2 1 got up and follered her a little And it come to me all to oncet I had teased her too bard, and 1 waa down on myaelf for it '^ay," Mifa. Itt^o^taia^ ywr old lwol£ ,^, (f *5$' ,*!£ *v LOOKS up. and that was how I got acquainted with Martha. She -was eating one herself, setting up in the tree like a boy. In her lap was a book she had been reading. She was leaning buck couldn't of slung it that way on pur Into the fork two limbs made so as 1 not to tumble. stands and looks at it a minute. 'Weil," I says, "can I have one?" 'You've eaten it already," she says, "so there isn't any use begging for it and I'll have to pay for it!" now." I seen she was a tease, that girl, and I would of give anything to of been able to tease her right back agin. But I couldn't think of nothing to say. so I jest stands there kind o' dumblike, thinking what a dern purty girl she was and thinking how dumb I must, look, and I felt my face getting red. Dr. Kirby would of thought of some thing to say right off. And after 1 got! back to camp I would think of some-, thing myself. But I couldn't think of nothing bright, so I says: "Well, then, you give me another. one!" She gives the core of the one she has been eating a toss at me. But I •ketched it and made like I was go-1 ing to throw it back at her real hard. She slung up her arm and dodged 'back, and she dropped her book. I thinks to myself I'll learn that girl to get sassy and make me feel like a iJt, and her hands was over her face, and she wouldn't pull 'em down to even look at It. So I tried agin. "Well," I says, feeling real mean, "1 wisht you wouldn't cry. I didn't go to make you do that" She drops her bands and whirls around on me. mad as a wet hen right off. "I'm not! I'm not!" she sings out, and stamps her feet. "I'm not cry ing!" But jest then shei loses her bolt on herself and busts out and Jest natcherally belters. "I hate you!" she says, like she could of killed me. That made me kind of dumb agin, fur it come to me all to oncet I liked that girl awful well. And here I'd up and made her hate me. 1 held the book out to her agin. Well, sir, she snatches that book and she gives it a sling. I thought it was going kersplash into the crick. But it didn't. It hit right into the fork of a limb that hung down over the crick, and it all spread out when it lit and stuck in that crotch somehow. She pose in a million years. We both "Oh. oh!" she says. "What have I done? It's out of the town library. "I'll get it fur you," I says. But it wasn't no easy job. If 1 shook that limb it would tumble into the crick. But I dumb the tree and eased out on that limb as fur as I dast to. And, of course, jest as I got holt of the book that limb broke and I fell into the crick. But I had the book. It was some soaked, but I reckoned it could still be read. I dumb out and she was jest splitting herself laughing at me. The wet on her face where she had cried wasn't dried up yet. and she was laughing right through it, kind o' like the sun does to one of these here May rain storms sometimes, and she was tha purtiest girl I ever seen. Gosh! How Gosh! How I Was Getting to Like That Girl! I was getting to like that girl! And she told me I looked like a drowned rat Well, that was how Martha and me was interduced. She wasn't more'u sixteen, and when she found out I was a orphan she was glad, fur she was one herself. Which Miss Hampton that lived in that bouse bad took her to raise. And when I tells her how I been traveling around the country all summer she claps her hands and she says: "Oh. you are on a quest! How ro mantic!" I asts her what is a quest. And she tells me. She knowed all about them, fur Martha was considerable of a read er. Some of them was longer and some of tbem was shorter, them quests, but mostly, Martha says, they was fur a twelvemonth and a day. And then you are released from your vow and one of these here queens gives you a whack over the shoulder with a sword and says, "Arise. Sir Marmeluke. I dub you a night" And then it is legal fur you to go out and rescue people and reform them and spear them if they don't see things your way. and come and that Injun rig of mine and Looey's between husband and wife when they always made 'em turn around and look. row. and do a heap of good in the at us agin. I never wisht I had on world. Well, they was other kind of them Injun duds so hard before in my quests, too. but mostly you married life. But I couldn't think of nothing somebody, or was dubbed a night, or bright to say, so I jest reads the name found the party you was looking fur ing with one of them soft drawly kind pf that book over to myself agin, kind In the end. And Martha had it all of voices, Martha says, no one had grinning like I got a good Joke I fixed up In her own mind I was in a ever dared to ain't going to tell any one. I quest to find my "You give me my book. When I got over to camp I seen they must be something wrong. Looey was looking kind of sour and kind of wor ried and watching the doctor. The doctor was je&t inside the tent, and be was looking queer, too, and not cheer ful, which be was usually. jj&reeta, orderly, "But looking ful rich man and more'n likely a earl. But Martha said she knowed what She was a very romanceful kind of Miss Hampton's secret was, and she girl. hadn't told no one, neither. Which Well, we talked about tbem quests she told me and all the promising I until Martha has to milk the cow, and done about not telling would of made I goes along back to camp thinking the cold chills run up your back, it what a purty girl she is. which we had set there talking so long It was nigh sundown, and my clothes bad dried on to me. setting in the grass under the wagon try like they ought to be she would of sen^ a night to find that David Arm strong. And that would of ended up in a mortal combat and the night would have cleaved him. "Yea," says I, "and then you would The doctor looks at me like be don't steercly know me. Which be don't. He baa one of tbem quiet kind of drunks on. Which Looey explains is Iwand to coino every so often. He don't do nothing mean, but jest gota cleaved David Armstrong that night Theo all of a soddao he will go down nsrtha says if be «u ihe would town and walk op and dowa tba BNdn walt KiVd* W* The next day he is asleep all morn ing. But that day he don't drink any more, and Looey says mebby it ain't going to be one of the reg'iar pifflicated kind. I seen Martha agin that day. too—twicet I has talks with her. I told her about the doctor. "Is he into a quest, do you think?" I asts her: She says she thinks it is remorse fur some crime he has done. But I couldn't flgger Doctor Kirby would of done none. So that night after the show I says to him. innocent-like: "Doctor Kirby. what is a quest?" He looks at me kind of queer. "Wherefore." says he. "this sudden thirst for enlightenment?" "I jest ran acrost the word accident al like," I told him. He looks at me awful hard, his eyes jest natcherally digging into me. 1 felt like be knowed I had set out to pump him. I wisht I hadn't tried it. Then he tells me a quest Is a bunt. And I'm glad that's over with. But it ain't, for purty soon he says: "Danny, did you ever hear of Lady Clara Vere de Vere?" "No." I says. "Who is she?" "A lady friend of Lord Tennyson's," he says, "whose manners were above reproach.'' -Well." 1 says, "she sounds kind o' like a medicine to me." "Lady Clara." lie says, "and nil the other Vere de Veres were people with manners we should try to Imitate. If Lady Clara had been here last night when I was talking to myself, Danny, her manners wouldn't have let her lis ten to what I was talking about." "I didn't listen!" 1 says. Fur I seen what he was driving at now with them Vere de Veres. Purty soon he says, cheerful-like: "There was a girl talking to you to day, Dariny." "Mebby they was," I says, "and meb by they wasn't." But 1 felt my face getting red all the same and was mad because it did. He grinned kind o' ag gervating at me and says some poetry ut me about in the spring a young man's frenzy likely turns to thoughts of love. "Well," I says, kind of sheepish like, "this is summer time and purty nigh autumn." Then 1 seen I'd jest as good as owned up 1 liked Martha and was kind of mad at myself fur that. But I told him some more about her too. Somehow 1 jest couldn't help it. He laughs at me and goes on into the tent I laid there and looked at the fire fur quite a spell outside the tent. 1 was thinking, if all them tales wasn't jest dern foolishness, how I wisht 1 would really find a dad that was a high mucky muck and could come back In an automobile and take her away. I laid there fur a long, long time. It must of been fur a couple of hours. I supposed the doctor had went to sleep But alj of a suddeu I looks up, and he is in the door of the tent staring at me. I seen be bad been in there at it bard agin and thinking quietlike all this time. He stood there in the door way of the tent with the firelight on to bis face and bis red beard and bis arms stretched out holding to the canvas and looking at me strange and wild. Then be moved his hand up and down at me. and be says: "If she's fool enough to love you treat her well—treat her well. For if you don't you can never run away from the bell you'll carry in your owe heart!" And be kind of doubled up and pitch ed forward when he said that, and ir I hadn't ketched bim he would of fei' right acrost the fire. He was plum I: pifflicated. CHAPTER VIII. Miss Hampton and Het Secret. THE LEON REPORTER, THURSDAY, JULY 3, 1913. hard Into people's faces, mostly women's faces. Oncet, Looey says, they was big trou ble over It. They was In a store in a good sized town, and he took hold of a woman's chin, tilted her face back and looked at her hard and most scared her to death, and they was nearly be ing a riot there. And he was Jailed and had to nay a big fine. Since the» Looey always follers him around when he Is tbat-a-way. \RTFIA wouldn't of took any thing fur beiug around Miss Hampton, she said. Miss Hampton was kind of quiet and sweet and pale looking, and no body ever thought of talking loud or raising any fuss when she was around. She had enough money of her own to run herself on. and she kep' to herself a good deal. She had come to that town from no one knowed where years ago and bought that place. Fur all of her being so gentle and easy and talk ast her about herself, father. Pur, she though they was a lot of women in she says' "ays. he Is purty certain to be a power- that town that was wishful to. was so solemn. Miss Hampton had been jilted years ago, Martha said, and the name of the jilter was David Armstrong. Well, be must of been a low down sort of man. Martha said if things was only fixed in this eoun- of married that there night, I sup pose." She says she would of. "Well," says I, "mebby you would of and me'bby .you wouldn't of. If be /ears and years till she was a old wo- She Had Fainted and Keeled Over. man with gray in her hair, and every day they would give lingering looks at each other through the window bars. And they would be happy that-a-way. Well. I never took no stock in them mournful ways of being happy. 1 couldn't of riz up to being a night fur Martliu She expected too much of one. 1 thought it over fur a little spell without saying anything, and I tried to make myself believe I would of liked all that night business But it wasn't no use pertending. I knowed I would get tired of it. So I changed the subject and asts her why I ain't seen Mis? Hampton around the place none. Martha says she has a bad sick headache and ain't been outside the house fur four or five days. 1 asts ner why she don't wait on her. But she don't want her to. Martha says. She's been staying in the house ever since we been in town and jest wants to be let alone, thinks all that is kind of funny, and then I seen from the way Martha is answering my questions that she is holding back something she would like to tell, but don't think she orter tell. I leaves her alone. When she said it was a secret I knowed she would tell. Martha liked having ber friends help her to keep a secret. "1 think Miss Hampton has seen a ghost," she says finally, "and that her staying iudoors has something to do with that." Then she tells me. The night of the day after we camped there ber and Miss Hampton was out fur a walk. We didn't have any show that night. They ftSssed rigbt by our camp, and they seen us there by the fire, all three of us. But they was in the road in the dark, and we was all in the light, so none of the three of us seen them. Miss Hampton was kind of scared of us first glance, fur she gasp ed and grabbed holt of Martha's arm all of a sudden so tight she pinched it. Which it was very natcheral that she would be startled, coming across three strange men all of a sudden at night around a turn in the road. They went along home, and Martha went inside and lighted a lamp, but Miss Hampton lingered on the porch fur a minute. Jest as she lit the lamp Mar tha hearn another little gasp or kind of sigh from Miss Hampton out there on the porch Then they was the sound of her falling down. Martha ran out with the lamp, and she was laying there. She had fainted and keeled over. Martha said jest in the minute she had left her alone on the porch was when Miss Hampton must of seen the ghost. Martha brung her to. and she was looking puzzled and wildlike both to oncet. Martha asts her what is tbe matter. ••Nothing." she says, rubbing her fin gers over her forehead in a helpless kind of way. "nothing." "You look like you had seen a ghost." Martha tells ber. Miss Hampton looks at Martha awful funny, and then she says mebby she has seen a ghost and goes along upstairs to bed. And since then she ain't been out of tbe house. She tells Martha it is a sick headache, but Mar tha says she knows it ain't. She thinks she is scared of something. •Scared?" I says. "She wouldn't see no more ghosts in the daytime.-' Martha says how do I know she wouldn't? She knows a lot about ghosts of all kinds. Martha does. Horses and dogs can see them easier than humans, even in the daytime, and it makes their hair stand up when they do. But some humans that bave tbe gift can see them in the daytime like an animal. And Martha asts me how can I tell but Miss Hampton is like that? "Well, then," I says, "she must be a witch. And if she is a witcb why ia she scared of them a-tall?" But Martha says if you have second sight you don't need to be a witch to gee them in the daytime. Well, with all the talking back and forth we done about tbem ghosts we couldn't agree. That afternoon it seem ed like we couldn't agree about any thing. I knowed we would be going away from there before long, and 1 says to myself before I go I'm going to have that girl, fur my girl, or else know the reason why. No matter what I was talking about that idea was in the back of my bead, and somehow it kind of made me want to witb her, too. We was pick fusses setting on a log, party deep into the wood*, and tbeiro come a time when neither of ua had said nothing f*r qttfte a apelL But "Martha, we'll be going away from here In two, three days now." She never said nothing. "Will you be sorry?" 1 asts her. She says she will be sorry. "Well," I says, "why will you be sorry?" I thought she would say because I was going. And then I would be find ing out whether she liked me a lot. But she says the reason she will bo sorry is because there will be no one new to talk to about things both has read. I was considerable took down when she said that. "Martha." I says, "it's more'n likely I won't never see you agin after 1 go away." She says that kind of parting comes between the best of friends. 1 seen I wasn't getting along very fast nor saving what 1 wanted to say. I reckon one of them Sir Marmeluke fellers would of knowed what to say or Dr. Kirby would, or mebby even Looey would of said it better than 1 could. So I was kind of mad with myself, and 1 says mean like: "If you don't care, of course I don't care neither." She never answered that, so I gets up and makes like I am starting off. "I was going to give you some of them there Injun feathers of mine to remember me by," I tells her. "but it' you don't want 'em there's plenty of others would be glad to take 'em." But she says she would like to have them. "Well." I says. "I will bring them to you tomorrow afternoon." She says. "Thank you." I Finally I couldn't stand it no longer. I got brave all of a sudden and busted out, "Martha, I—I—I"— But I got to stuttering, and my I braveness stuttered itself away, and I finished up by saying: "I like you a bull lot, Martha." Which wasn't jest exactly what 1 had planned fur to say. Martha, she says she kind of likes me too. "Martha," I says, "I like you more'n any girl I ever run acrost before." She says. "Thank you." agin. The way she said it riled me up. She said it like she didn't know what I meant, nor what I was trying to get out of me. But she did know all the time. I knowed she did. She knowed I know ed it too. Gosh dern it, I says to my self, here I am wasting all this time jest talking to her. The right thing to do come to me all of a suddeu and like to took my breath away. But I done it. 1 grabbed ber aud 1 kissed her. Twice. And then agin. Because the first was on tbe chin on account of her jerking her head back. And the sec ond one she didn't help me none. But the third time she helped me a little. And the ones after that she helped me considerable. Well, tbev ain't no use trying to talk about the rest of that afteruoou 1 couldn't rightly describe it if I wanted to And 1 reckon it's none of any body's business. WeMj it makes you feel kiud of fun ny*' You want To go oift and pick on somebody about four sizes bigger'n you are and knock tbe socks off'u. him It stands to reason others has felt that a-way. but you don't believe it. You want to tell people about it one min ute. The next minute you have got chills and ague fur fear some one will guess it. And you think the way you are about ber is going to last fur al ways. That evening, when I was cooking supper, I laughed every time 1 was spoke to. When Looey and I was hitching up to drive downtown to give the show, one of the bosses stepped on bis foot and I laughed at that, and there was purty nigh a fight. After the show, when we got back to camp and the hosses was picketed out fur the night. I had to tell Looey all about how I felt fur an explanation of why I laughed at him. Which it made Looey right low in his sperrits. and he shakes his head and says uo good will come of it. "But it ends happy sometimes." I says. "Not when it is true love it don't." says Looey "Look at Anthony and Cleopatra." "Yes." I Says, "and so is Adam aud Eve and Dan and Burrsheba aud all the rest of them old timers. But I bet they had a good time while they lasted." Looey shakes his head solemn and sighs and goes to sleep very mourn ful. like he has to give me up fur lost. But I can't sleep none myself. So pur ty soon I gets up and puts on my shoes and sneaks through the woodlot and through tbe gap in the fence by the ap ple tree and into Miss Hampton's yard. It was a beauty of a moonlight night, that white and clear and clean you could almost see to read by it. like all of everything had been scoured as bright as the bottom of a tin pan. And That very day. and mebby the same one Miss Hampton seen on that very same porch. I thought I was in fur it then, mebby, and I felt like some one had whispered to the back of my neck it ought to be scared. And I was scar ed clean up into my hair. I stared harft, fur I couldn't take my eyes away. 1 1 Then purty soon I seen if it was a ghost it must be a woman ghost. Fur It was dressed in light colored clothes that moved jest a little in the breeze, and the clothes was so near the color of the moonlight they seemed to kind of silver into it You would of said it had jest floated there and was waiting fur to float away agin when the breeze blowed a little stronger or the moon drawed It It didn't move fur ever so long. Then it leaned forward through the gap in the vines, and I seen the face real plain. It wasn't no ghost—it was a Then I knowed it must be Miss ton standing there looking at that. I wondered why. mllEWildtook CHAPTER IX. The Man From Borneo. next day we broke camp and was gone from that placw. and I away with me the half of a ring me and Martha bad chopped in two. We kept on go ing. and by the time punkins and county fairs was getting ripe we was inLo the upper left band corner of Ohio. And there Looey left us. One day Dr. Kirby and me was walking along tbe main street of a little town, and we seen a bang up funeral percession coming. It must of been one of the Grand Army of the Repub licans. fur they was some of tbe old soldiers in buggies riding along be hind and a big string of people foller ing in more buggies and some on foot. Everybody was looking mighty solium. But they was one man setting beside the undertaker on the seat of the hearse that was looking sollumor than them all. It was Looey, and I'll bet the cjorp.se himself would of felt proud and happy and contented if he could of knowed the style Looey was giv ing that funeral A coupie of hours lat er Looey comes into camp and says he is iroing to quit. The doctor asts him if be has inher ited money. "No." says Looey, "but mv aunt has given nie a chancet to go into busi ness." Looey says he was bora nigh there and was prowling around town the day before and run acrost an old aunt of his'n he bad forgot all about She is awful respectable and religious and ashamed of bim being into a traveling show. And she has offered to lend bim enough to buy a half share in a business. "What kind of business are you go ing into?" asts tbe doctor "I am going to be an undertaker," says Looey. "My aunt says this town needs the right kind of an undertaker bad." Mr. Wilcox, tbe undertaker that town has. is getting purty old and shaky. Looey says, and young Mr. Wilcox, his son, is too light minded aud goes at things too brisk aud airy to give it the right kind of a sendoff. People don't want him joking around their corpses, and he is a fat young man and can't help making pans even in tbe pres ence of the departed. Old Mr. Wil cox's eyesight is getting so poor he made a scandal in that town only tbe week before. He was composing a de parted's face into a last smile, but he went too fur with it and give the de parted one of them awful mean, dev ilish kind of grins, like he bad died with a bad temper on. By the time the departed's fambly had found it out things had went too fur, and the face had set that-a-way, so it wasn't safe to try to change it any. Old Mr. Wilcox had several brands of last looks. One was called "Bear Up. For We _Will JiIeet Again." The one that had "went" w'fong'was his fa vorite look, named "0 Death, Wftece Is Thy Victory?" .•wrftflKSten Looey's aunt says she will buy him partnership if she ii satisfied he can fill the town's needs. They have a talk with the Wllcoxes, and he rides on tbe hearse that day fur a tryout. His aunt peeks out behind her bedroom curtains as the perces_sion goes by her house, and when she sees the style Looey is giving to that funeral, and how easy it comes to him. that settles it with her on the spot And it seems the hull dern town liked it too, Including the departed's fambly. Looey says they is a lot of chancet fur improvements in the undertaking game by one whose heart Is in his work, and he is going into that busi ness to make a success of tt. and try and get all the funeral trade fur mllea the sbadders was soft and thick and velvety and laid kind of brownish greeney on the grass, flopped down in the shadder of some lilac bushes and woudered which was Martha's window. I knowed she would be in bed long ago, but—well. I was jest plumb foolish that night, and I couldn't of kept away fur any money. That moonlight had got into my head, it seemed like, and made me drunk. Tbe porch of that house was part covered with vines, but tliey was kind of gaped apart at one corner. As I laid there in the shadder of tbe bushes 1 hearn a fluttering movement, light and gentle, on that porch Then all of a sudden I seen some one standing on the edge of the porch where the vines was gaped apart, and tbe'moonlight was falling on to them. Tbey must of come there awful soft and still. Who ever it was couldn't see into the shad der where 1 laid—that is, if it was a human and not a ghost. Fur my first thought was it might be one of them jhosts I bad been running down so around. He reads us an advertisement of the new firm he has been figgering out fur that town's weekly paper. I cut a copy out when it was printed, and it looks about the genteelest thing like that I ever seen, as follers: (To be continued) YOLJK Hamp there. Away off througb the trees our cu*p *tr» sent op Jest a dull kind of a glow. Bha waa standlm OPPORTUNITY. To make more money during your .•r»are hours than at your regular .vork. Become a salesman. An old, tvell-estatlished automobile manufac turing company wants an agent in every township and district where tt has no representative. You need no experience. You can sell your neigh bor. Some of your neighbors are go ing to buy cars. Why don't you sdl them? Will you do it now or will you miss the opportunity? Write this minute to Great Western Aatemobfle Pera. lad. lady. BfiMHUHt FOB ,*® WORK. tf-J hi 'I I I 1 ,4 1 1 -M •i. •I .vs"| »f 1 ij ,-WSS- 3i -H ""Vl .. •'3* 3 Sip®! ifl a.'M