o
[cosnxrF.D.
Mrs. Bartels was a charming woman
—suprisingly jolly, but If she were dis
posed to poke fun at his Rum shoes, he
must regard such lovity as bad taste, to
say the least.
There was a close, stuffy smell about
the largo, shadowy banking room, as the
heavy door was opened.
‘“Darkness there, and nothing
more.”’quoted Anita, who, it seemed,
must continually be talking. “It seems
like a church on a week day; does it
not?” _ „
“Yes? do you think so? Well, you
shall pass a contribution plate, and make
It seem more like a Sunday, ’ beaming
with consciousness of his wit. “How
much will you have? I think if you will
sit at this desk at the window yon will
have lightenough to fill out your check,”
methodically dating the paper for her
with a rubber stamp, and pusaing for
ward pens, ink and a blotter.
“Did you say that I could have three
hundred dollars? I would like about
that, please.”
“What! the whole of It? with ami
able facetiousuess, as he lighted a lamp.
“I think you must be going into real
estate, Mrs. Bartels.”
“I might, perhaps, to the extent of a
few feet,” laughing at the grim humor
of her thought.
“Perhaps you had bettor not put in
the figure until I see how much we
Lave.” ..
Ills lamp hold In one band, the cashier
slowly worked the combination of the
vault door in the far corner. Anita
nervously thummed on tho desk, fidget
ing in the large, leather covered chair,
impatiently oppressed with the stillness
which seemed an Inherent quality of the
heavy, vitiated atmosphere. A tly that
bad been languidly rubbing its hind legs
together on tho window roused itself to
come buzzing teaslngly around her
head; and a man who was passing in the
street slackened hi* pace to peer curi
ously at her through tho window. She
felt an Insane longing to scream and bid
the man, now inside the vault, to hasten.
“And when are you expecting your
husband back?” he carelessly asked,
when presently ho emerged, a bunch of
bills in his hand.
“I don’t know,” listlessly watching
while he stood counting the bills at a
high desk. , . ,
“Yes, I think we can make it three
hundred, Mrs. Bartels,” finishing his
count and beglnulng anew.
“Thank yon."
“I presume he Is having a large nme,
but ail the samo I wonld harry him
home were I yon.” with the comfortably
complacent air he wore when feeling
that he was about to get o’J a good
thing. “There is nothing more demor
alizing than a trout stream, Mrs. Bar
tels. It seoms as If a man could not go
fishing and practice prohibition or tell
tho truth. Oh, the Lorelei was no
where compared with the sirens that
haunt our Rocky Monntaiu trout
streams, to lure men’s moral natures to
wreck and ruin! Indeed I would hurry
him away from such daugerous environ
ment Mrs. Bartels.”
Anita’s face flushed scarlet, her biased
perception comprehending a deeper
meaning behind the carelessly uttered
words, while she burned with indigna
tion. Even a comparative stranger like
this might feel free to cast his stone of
advice at her in her humiliation. And
yet, softanluglng, no doubt ho meant
his hint kindly.
“I think I shall leave him to work
out his own salvation,” with a sort of
sullen constraint that struck tho uncon
scious Ingalls with astonishment and
discomfiture. Ills complimentary opin
ion was modified with the proviso that
a joke was wasted upon her.
“Well, perhaps he may save his sonl
alive, but I wouldn’t be too sure of It,”
laughingly letting himself down to busi
ness ugtiin. “I think you will find this
all right, Mrs. Bartels.” He briskly
stamped the check with a sharp click of
the little instrument, pushed the heavy
vault door shut and blow out the light.
“1 believe that is all,” he added as he
joined her at the door.
“Yes, that is all,” drearily. She had
A feeling thAt this was the last page of
her life at Orodelphla, as if she were
bidding it an eternal farewell, and she
felt a childish longing to take some hand
In friendly clasp and say goodby. “I
want to thank you,” she said gently.
“It was more than kind to give yourself
so much trouhle, and the favor to me
was greater than you could readily un
derstand. Thanks, and—adois!”
The bewildered banker who had scarce
before met the laJy with greeting more
familiar than the lifting of his hat, was
fairly overcome with embarrassment at
the warmth of her hand clasp, the in
scrutable expression of her lingering
glance. He had never been known as a
ladies’ man, even at the apex of his
youthful gallantries. That is a role
liable to prove expensive, at the ruling
rates of flowers and bonbons, and the
thrifty man had been ever minded to In
vest his courtesies as well as capital
where most tangible returns might be
expected. Ha was not to be tempted
into foolishness bv the wiles of any wo
man: but none the less, while his pulses
pleasantly quickened, ho was reminded
that he had once been rather a taking ;
fellow. He wondered If It would not j
have been the proper *,hing for him to
escort Mrs. Bartels home—it was cer
tainly growing very dark—Irresolutely
glancing back at her graceful form al
ready almost lost In tho dense shadows
of the trees. And, abstractedly walking
along, gazing over his shoulder, he had
run against a man, and well nigh j
knocked him down, before ho observed j
him.
“1 beg paruon, Wells,’’ he said gruffily,
recognizing the victim of his uncon
scious charge. There had been a little
unpleasantness at the bank that day, re
lative to an overdue note, wbeu this man
Wells had trade himself particularly
disagreeable. “Hope you are not hurt?”
the banker carelessly added, as he moved
on. “I did not see you.”
“I s’poso not,” with an ugly grin, sig
nificantly leering up tho street, where
Mrs. Bartels had passed. The man had
evidently been drinking, and his man
ners were not improved. “Banking
bour9 for ladies after dark, eh? Oh,
well, when the cat’s away the mice can
pl-iy/"
Ingalls wheeled aronnd furiously, hla
rosy face flaming crimson, each hair of
his sandy mustache seeming separately
a-qulver with wrath. “I have a good
mind to come back and knock you
down!” he exclaimed, contemptuously {
measuring the boozily grinning ranch
man. *
“Ob, no, you hain’t; you ain’t built
that way,” with a taunting laugh. “You
can charge a man two per cent, a month
an’ ten per cent, for ’toraey’a fees when
a note happw^o ran a little over time
—you ain’t here fur your health—but
that Is the worst you can do. When it
comes to standing up before a full
grown man—bah! you look liko ono o*
them fancy chlua salt bottles they get
up nowadays—little toy men an’women.
Durned If I don’t half believe you to be
one,” with a drnnken laugh. “I’ve a
good mind to pick you up an’ turn you
over, jest to too If I can sprlnklo salt
out of your head.”
If he had really entertained the no
tion of undertaking any such experi
ment tho whim was promptly extin
guished by a couple of well planted
blows that left him sprawling, half
strangled, his head In the Irrigating
ditch. “Ought to call him a pepper
bottle,” he spluttered with boozy reas
oning, as he ruefully blew the mud out
of his nose. “Might ’a’ Known he bad
a redheaded temper. But this ain’t the
end on't, old-two-per-cont.-a-month!” he
bawled after his retiring enemy. “I’ll
Jest ask Don Bartels for a bit of legal
advice about ’sault and battery; V meb
be he’ll thank me for a hint about your
banking hour3 for ladles.”
CHAPTER Vt
4
A
//n
"It is nothing but the surprise. 101
curne upon me so suddenly.”
Down its narrow, rock hewn pathway,
to tho reverent soul as an aisle of one of
the grandest of earth's cathedrals, a
Denvor aed Uio Grande train was tor
tuously twisting Its way, following the
curves of tho Arkansas, while tho old
stone Titans keeping watch on either
side gossiped of the event in hoarse,
whispering echoes. It was a frowning,
gray day, when the wind was rioting in
the shadowy canyon llko a thoughtless
child mocking at thh dignity of age,
whistling weird harraonlos a« ft heavily
hurled its might from ono rock wall to
the other, buffeting tho bristling pines
and 9pruces es though to compel tho
bare roots to loose their grip on the re
pelling rocks, blowing the foam crested
waves of the river into madder hurry
every little while In a wilder frenzy of
diablerie, throwing itself crazily Into
the spinning of whirlwinds of dust that
veiled the landscape like a fog.
Once or twice above the echoing roar
and rattle of the train sounded the boom
of distant thunder, and people turned
for the moment from their paporsor idle
talk to glance up at ther.arrrcw strip of
sky, like a twist of ragged gray ribbon,
showing far away above the mighty
rock walls that hedged them in, specu
lating with tho comfortable Indifference
of people well housed as to tho chances
of a storm. It was a 1 cal train, and
most of those who looked, dulled by
familiarity to even this grandeur, saw
nothing of tho rich harmony of color,
tho ineffable beauty of tho vast walls
piled block upon block, thousands upon
thousands of feet, until, like castles of a
race of giants, thoir towers and pinna
cles seemed touching the whirling
clouds of the sky, whose frowning mood
seemed so perfectly attuned to this
rugged grandeur—looked at it all but
barometer wise, seeing only that the
storm might blow over. Well for man
that tho dull eyes of the flesh may one
day be cast to earth, else even tho glo
ries of heaven would presently pall upon
the sluggish souls made free.
More Indifforeot than any, Anita lay
back In her chair wellnigh pale and ‘still
as the dead. She was physically ex
hausted to a degree that her superb
strength had never known before, spent
and beaten by the storm of passion goad
ing her ou to feverish activity through
all tho long night. She had not thought
of sleeping, going about the preparations
for her journey with a caro for small de
tails as punctilious as though there had
been weeks to spare for the planning.
All alone in the still night, her only ser
vani steeping uuuisiurueu, sue nan gone
about putting her house in order as
though to grace the coming of some fa
vored guest, pushing a chair 1n place
hero, adjusting the fold of a curtain
there, emptying the withered flowers
from the vases, even threading fresh
ribbon in the ends of a bureau scarf,
and with new knots of ribbon, pinning
the clean covor on a pincushion. Each
garment in the basket of clothes fresh
from the laundry had teen carefully laid
In its place, and, though her tinkers had
trembled over their task, they had yet
never faltered nor bungled over all the
dainty stitchery she was accustomed to
lavish oa the weekly mending. And
when her feverish fancy could devise
nothing more to occupy her restless
bands, when her one trunk was packed
and her curt note of explanation to Don
ald had been written, out on the piazza,
in the cool gray preceding the dawn she
had goue, pacing back and forth in the
same mad hurry until the glowing lights
of the eastern sky were beckoning a
sleep drugged world to up and make the
most of another daT of life.
She was not a woman to whom the
relief of tears came readily. It seemed
rather as if her passion spent Its force
lnwar iiy, until her heart felt full to
bursting with the lnrushlng torrent of
pain. Dry eyed and outwardly so quiet,
with all her cool thoughtfulness and
housewifely painstaking, that long
night's vigil had been a rack of torture
unspeakable, leaving her spent and worn
as from long Illness; and there was a sen
sation of passlouate relief In lyiug rest
fully back in the luxurious car, feeling
that those dark hours were left behind,
that herlfeet were fairly across the Rubi
con of hesitation. For in all her mad
hurrying sue had not been able to stifle
the wifely instinct that would bid her
pause and measure well this step, to
weigh more carefully this punishment
she was meting oat to Donald. Octopus
like. duty seemed clinging, striving to
hold her back, but her mad passion but
strove the more to wrench her free from
that insistent grip. She knew that in
spired deviltry could have devised no
revenge more cruel to Donald, and the
demon that possessed her but laughed
the more hideously in triumph at the
thought.
And now the fatal step was taken.
Of no avail to question the consequences
now, to measure the right and wrong.
It only remained to keep her glance from
wandering backward—to look only to
the goal ahead. It seemed so clear be
fore her staring eyes—the stretch of
warm toned gray walls, the old weather
*
. - -V \ ‘ J
stained oh&pel atone side,rising, isolate
as a ship at sea, from the vast stretch of
hot, cacti blotched plains. She could
even fancy too quivering radiations of
heat In the air, and see the lizards sun
ning themselves by tbo wall. But within
that old Inclosuro, grim aa a fortress,
would be brightness ami welcome, and
best of all, cool, refreshing rest. It was
always cool in the dim sala, where her
mother’s hammock used to swing, the
great silken hammock with its fringes
of parti-colored tassels, at which Anita
had pulled as a child, calling them
flowers. Time woild have forgotten that
quiet sala; nothing ever changed in that
fair dreamland, whore Hie slumbered on
in eternal slumber.
The old hammock was hanging there
to-day in the lulling half lights, and the
perfume of heliotrope and Jasmine was
stealing in among the shadows, as fresh
and sweet as a dozen years ago. Before
the wide arched doorway the same old
diminishing triangle of sunshine wou.d
be spread on the worn rod tiles; and as
one lav in the hammock he would look
out into the patio, where the palms were
grudgingly sifting the sunbeams through
their lithe fingers, and purpling figs were
bursting with sweetness among their
escaloped leaves. One would catch the
rod flash of the pomegranate blossoms,
llko bunches of crumpled silk; roses
would be crowding their red cheeks to
gether, wantonly begging the hot kisses
of the sun; and all the warm air would
seem sensuouslv aquiver with the flower
bells ringing out their sweet summons
to the heart of man to rejoice and be
glad.
Yet even Into this dream tne muugut
of Donald must intrude. They bad so
often talked of taking this trip to
gether, in some happy holiday time.
Would he guess at once where she had
gone, and follow, she wondered, a cold
disgust creeping over her at the thought
of looking upon his face again. Her
heart seemed numb ana cold, only dead
ashes thero in place of love that had but
yesterday burned so fiercely. Anything
but the one thing he had done, she bit
terly told herself for tha hundredth
time, she might have forgiven him.
Had he but come to her in the master
ful spirit of a man, aod said, “I like
these people, aud I will have nothing to
do with your whims and prejudice; I
shall go with them and amuse myself.
Had ho but been bravely honest about
it, however her jealous heart might have
protested, she could still have looked
up to him with the doglike love of a wo
man. But when he had driven her to
despise him, with hl9 pnerile, cajoling
lies, it was as if that part of her nature
that had thrilled in response to his had
been suddenly stricken with paralysis.
What would ho say, what new lie
would he invent, when he came and
found her? For she was perfectly sure
that some day he would come and find
her, with clumsy, masculineendeavor to
smooth It over. He would say that the
hunting expedition had disappointingly
fallen through, and the Rogerses had
been so pressing In their kindly hospi
tality that ho had not been able to es
cape them; or he had merely stopped
with them for tho night to make an
early start for the ascent of the peak, a
trip he had always been longing to make,
and which ho could scarce be oxpected
to resist when at last the opportunity
came; or perhaps ho would deny the
whole story. For the first time, as she
imagined his excuses, Anita faltered for
a moment in her vengeful purpose, wish
ing she had but waited a day to read the
letter which even now probably was
waiting for her in the office. She felt a
bitter curiosity to know what he would
say for himself. It might have beon
more just, more kind, to have halted to
hear his side, and yet—with a fierce
clinching of her hands—what had she
to do with kindness? Had he been kind
when he had schemed to circumvent her
wishes, when he had callously thrust
aside her teuderly written request?
A pale twilight fell suddenly upon the
car from the overhanging rocks of the
Royal Gorge—pathway meet for the
King of kings, in Its grand stillness and
repose, shadows old as the world linger
ing in the deep recesses, where the
quivering touch of a sunbeam finger has
never penetrated to wake to sensuous
joy the pallid plant life cloistered thero.
Anita looked up almost startled as the
dark shadow fell across her dreamily
staring eyes like an impalpable vpil,
glancing out of tho window with the in
stiuctive recollection of Donald’s joy in
these grand scenes. Nature had never
more joyous worshiper than he to wiiomo
had been given tho gods’ best gift t
man_tho happy faculty of interesting
himself in whatever offered; with eyes to
see all that time and chance might be
holding out as ho journeyed, never miss
ing tho smallest ple&suro that came
within his reach.
In a flash, while instinctively ner
hand was pressed against her heart In
futile ctfort to still Its sharp pain, her
thoughts had gono back to her bridal
journey through this wonderland, when
to her happy fancy It had seemed but
the fitting portal to the rich now life be
fore her. It had been then, she remem
bered, that, amazingly staring up from
the observation car at the awful masses
of overhauglng rock, as It seemed just
ready to drop and crush to nothingness
the poor little train crawling along In
the shadow like a presumptuous worm,
Anita, stealing her hand into his, half
fearfully, half glad of the fe&r that made
excuses for the tender touch, had asked
Donald If he feared death. “Only be
cause It might divide us, darling,” he
had whispered back, the shadow of a
deep earnestness fallen upon his sunny
face. It was such a little while ago—
less thau a score of months, and now
they were divided by a black gulf of
lies of his making, and she lived to see
that life might bo more cruel than
death.
The wind was sighing sullenly, almost
stilled, and the cloud masses were
fringed with glowing brightness where
the sunlight was feeling its way to the
earth. Out and away from the shadow
of the rocks sped the train, past gentle,
sparsely wooded hills, on through the
green garden of Canyon City and its
outlying fertile fields, by desolate ranch
houses where a weary wraith of a woman
apex of a clutter of unkempt children,
was always staring at the passing train,
hungrily snatching a Barmecide taste of
the outside world—on and away, each
change of scene to Anita but as a mile
post marking another unit of space put
between her and Donald.
All but the smallest cobwebs bad been
swept from the sky when Pueblo was
reached, and the sun was pouring down
with a blazing persistency which seems
especially reserved for that bustling
burgh, which flourishes as If finding oc
cult favor in the heavens’hot partiality.
Here Anita was to change cars for the
south; perhaps she would be compelled
to wait; she did not know. Would it be
a clever scheme, she pondered, to baffle
Donald on her track, to purchase a ticket
but for another little piece of the way?
or should she boldly came her destina
tion at the ticket office and get the tire
some details of ticket and trank check
aft her mind for good and all? Irreso
lutely she threaded her way among the
motel y crowd on the hot, unshaded plat
form of the station, pausing, because it
seemed to bar her way, before the soc
tiouof Pueblo's king of cottonwoods,
which advertising ingenuity has erected
there—fit monument, Donald had^ once
said, for a city’s crime of arboricide.
Ever the thought of Donald in every
thing! impatiently frowning while sne
read the black lettered legend of tne
tree, the surprising figure of its girt
and aize, what celebrities had camped
under its shade, and how many unfortu
nates had been hanged from its branehe
—Idly read with her eyes, while ner
mind, not grasping a word, still wrestled
with the problem of the.ticket. Ah, why
should she make herself petty troub.e
socking to mislead him, when soon or
late, he was sure to find her? a sa'^®P
hot shame burning ail over her wltn
a sneaking consciousness that she want
ed hi in to find her soon. Great heaven,
was she then so woak in spirit that sne
could run away, but hoping to be fol
lowed? And could it be—with bitter
self contempt—that already she was
nursing a fancy of one day taking him
her heart again, when he came pleading.
Let her go buy her ticket and away#
And yet she hesitated to take this
final step, realizing, with fierce impotent
anger, what her hesitation meant, in
the enforced quiet of her Journey, some
where, somehow, in those hours of
brooding thought, the hot flame of her
fury had gone out, and now the reaction
was come. She had *not grown tender
or forgiving; she was sore and sullen,
feeling how weak she was, how helpiess
to keep her heart from turning bactf to
him; her anger burning but the more
furiously in the consciousness that,
however she despised him, she yet could
not break free from the love of him.
But at least she would not yield herselr
to the despicable weakness; she wou.a
go on, setting her teeth hard and reso
lutely turning back toward the ticket
office.
A step had raiteroa oesr»e uui u»
heeded, and now a hand was suddenly
put out to detain her.
“Nita—Cousin Nita, what lock to
meet you here!” exclaimed a young man
eagerly, yet with a certain diftldence, as
if not quite sure of bis welcome.
“Gray Van Zaudt! you?” in breath
less surprise, staring at him with wide
eyed incredulliy. “It Is net possible? I
thought you wore In Paris.”
“II n’y a que les morts qul ne revien
uont pas,” he gayly retorted, seizing tho
hand she surprisedly held out in a close,
caressing pressure. “I was in Paris; but
now I am hero. It is not my ghost, I
can assure you. And how do you happen
here? Is your husband with you?”
The surprise was the one touch of
nature needed upon her overwrought
nerves. “Oh, how glad—how glad I
am!” sho exclaimed, iu a tone that left
no doubt of her sincerity, even though as
she spoke she covered her face and burst
into passlouate weeping.
Gray Van Zaudt, who had been f t id
of her from his boyhood, who had once,
indeod, thought hfs life ruined through
hopeless love of her, was as distressed as
amazed. “Nita, for heaven’s sake—
what on earth Is the matter? Don’t,
dear—please don’t,” he begged, while,
with great presence of mind, he caught
her sun umbrella and held It to shield
her from curious eyes.
“It is nothing but tho surprise. You
came upon me so suddenly. And—of
course, you know that people sometimes
cry for joy,” smiling tremulously up at
him.
“Well, It nevpr happened to come un
der my observation before,” regarding
her dubiously; “and if ft is all the same
to you, Nita, I must say I would rather
bo greeted with smiles.”
“Well, so you shall,” with a little con
tradictory sob. “And is Aunt Martha
with you?”
“With me? Heaven forbid! Hut if
that was your Idea I can understand
your tears,” ho returned lightly, but
searching her faco with earnest, anx
ious eyes. “And is Donald with you?”
“It would hardly do for me to say
‘Heaven forbid!’ would it?” with an ef
fort at playfulness that sat but lamely
upon her. “But he isn’t.”
“And how do I happen to And you In
this out of the way place. Where are
you bound?”
“Out of tho way place!’ this—‘the
Pittsburgh of tho West! Pueblo would
haug you in eftigy if your blasphemy
were overheard.”
Gray shrugged his shoulders with a
comprehensive glance of contempt at
tho visible town. “Hut would you mind
saving whethor you are traveling to
ward homo or away?”
“I am going home; and, of course, you
are goiug with me,” having gained time
to make up her mind.
“Thanks. Then if wo arc going by
this train wo would better get on board.
The porter said only twenty minutes for
refreshments, and,” looking at his
watch, “seventeen of them are gone.”
“And you have had nothing to eat!” in
consternation, with a woman’s instinc
tive concern for the material comfort of
those belonging to her.
“I will have the porter rustle a lunch
and bring it to us on board. Are these
all the traps you havo?” taking her
hand-bag and sun umbrella.
“Are those not enough for a reason
able woman?” lightly. It might be em
barrassing to explain the presence of
the trunk. Sue could telegraph back
for It.
“ -Speak of angels,’ et cetera,” ex
claimed Gray, by and by, when the
train was on its wav, almost incredu
lously regarding Anita across the nar
row car table, while she sipped a glass
of claret and played with a sandwich.
“It seems incredible even now. 1 had
just started to wire you at Orodelphla
ihat 1 was coming, when, as if I had
rubbed Aladln’a lamp, there you stood
before me. You have not explained yet
how you happened to be there.”
“No,” uosltating a little. “Well, you
know that Aunt Martha wrote that she
was probably coming”
“And then she exercised her woman’s
prerogative and changed her mind-”
“Something that a man never does,”
with a mocking smile, grown almost
light of heart for the moment, la the
pleasure of seeing him.
“Never, Cousin Nita,” a glance she
might Interpret as she chose flashing
from his bold black eyes.
“And not conceiving that she could
be so fickle,” she deliberately continued,
“I calculated that she ought to reach
Pueblo today, and being alone at home
with nothing to hinder”
“Alone?” interpolated Gray quickly.
“Waere Is Donald?”
“Away on a fishing trip,” staring
hard at a bunch of cattle that, scared
from the track by the iDfernal screech
ing of the locomotive whistle, were
wildly tearing across the country.
“Ail by himself?” surprisedly.
“Oh, no; he Is with a party.”
“I mean without you,” persisted Gray,
regarding her keeniy.
“Obviously, since I am here,” redden
ing a little, while she laeghed rather
constrainedly. “I could not go with
him because I was expecting Aunt
Martha—don’t you see? And »o, as I
•aid, being alono It occurred to me that
there wa« nothing to prevent my going
down to ’.’ueblo to meet her.”
“To meet Aunt Martha!” staring at
her aghast, forgetting, In his surprise,
to bite the pear he had lifted to his
mouth.
“And why not?” coolly staring back
at him. “Why should yon doubt It?”
“Oh, I don’t, of ooarte, if you say so;
only,” a quizzical smile lifting the ends
of his heavy black mustache, “It just
strikes me, Nita, how abominably home
sick you must have been, In this wild
aod woolly west, to be ready to rush a
hundred miles or so for the pleasure of
embracing Aunt Martha.” M
“Your penetration does you credit,’
smiling lightly, but with the sadness re
turning to her eyes, ‘I think 1^ have
been abominably homesick, Gray.”
CAAPTER VII.
ft was a handsome fare lying thert
against the red silk hammock pillow.
When the child Anita had been
brought to the home of the Van Zandts
she had foound her first friend In her
cousin Gray. They bad played, quar
relled and been punished together, times
without number. And when later Gray
had developed a capacity for mischief
that made him the despalrof his family
and the scourge of his school masters,
tho little girl, with the instinct of
motherhood that belongs to tho woman
heart, divining that she most of all had
power over tho wayward lad, had for
gotten her dolls in her care to keep
Gray in tho way ho should go. Ho was
her senior by a few months, yet her
mental attitude might have befitted his
grandmother; and so, when at last Gray
proposed to marry her the girl simply
laughed in his face. But his need of
her pleaded for him. In a certain way
she had felt herself necessary to him
for years, innocently exaggerating tho
Importance of her influence. How little
could sho guess how small was the
sweep of her moral broom In tho wide
radius of his life! And so sho might,
after all, have married him, had not
Donald Bartels, In an evil hour for
Gray, come and won her.
There had beeu no moiety of love’s
real passion in Anita's feeling toward
her cousin; but she hid been very fond
of him, in a tender, carotaking way,
and she had missed him out of her life.
Aud now sho was overjoyed to see him
again—so happy that once, when a pause
came in the conversation, she caught
herself vaguely wondering why her
heart felt so strangely heavy. Joy for
tho moment had utterly routed trouble
from hor mind.
“But you are looking thin and pale,’’
she anxiously exclaimed, when there
had been time to study his face clearly.
“Surely you have not—I hope you have
not been ill?”
Ull, IlO, Wltu tt IlLtlC uiai
struck terror to her heart. They grow
keen to recognize tho weapons of the
grim enemy, they who live In that dry
air whore doctors send men to make
their fight with death. “I caught a lit
tle cold last spring—amere nothing, but
it seems to stick in my throat, i’aris
was a little too much for me, I’m afraid;
and then, you know, It is never easy to
get rid of a cold in warm weather.”
“I know that you never would half
tako care of yourself,” retorted Anita,
her eyes luminous with exceeding kind
ness.
“And nobody else ever seemed to feel
called to undertake the job,” with a
rueful grimace?
“Ah, who could?” laughing.
“Who could, wouldn’t,” retorted
Gray, enigmatically, with bis careless
laugh.
It was inexpressibly pleasant, with
her sore and fretted heart, to have this
old comrade beside her, to feel that
his resentful wrath at her had been
swept away, that she might lean again
upon her steadfast affection. There
was no time for gloomy thought In
their lively conversation, continu
ally starting anow with, “Of course you
remember this,” or “You cannot have
forgotten that.” And Anita discovered
that she had room for two distinct
trains of reflection in her mind at
once—tho one full of reminiscent
jollity and laughter, the other
lull of bitterness onspcakablo. With
Gray beside her, dipping Into the past,
laughing at his Jokes and odd slang,
trouble must be kept in abeyance; but it
was with her none the less, to share her
pillow when at last she was at home
again, mocktng her in the darkness un
til it seemed she must cover her head
with the sheet to stifle her moans.
Another day had come, Jaughing in
the joy of Colorado’s lavish sunshine.
Gray was lazily rocking in the sitting
room hammock, while Anita, near by,
sat working at a bit of embroidery. Tho
strong morning light fell trylngly on her
pale, weary face.
“Do you know, nina mla,” he sa1d,I:
think I must emulate your delightful
frankness, and remark that you look
just a wee bit worse for wear? You too
are thin and pale.”
“But you must remember that I am
always well,” hastily, with her bright
est smile. “It has its disadvantages
too, you must know, to bo so monoton
ously sound in health in a country
where the evenness of the temperature
leaves so little to be said a'jout the
weather. One suffers from such a pau
city of conversational matter.”
“Yes?” smiling perfunctorily, while
still with keen eyes studying her face.
“I hope thero is no powder on mv
nose!” she irrelevantly exclaimed, quiz
zically meeting his searching glance.
“Worse than that, Nita,” he said
gravely. “Something is wrong with
you. I know yoa too well to be de
ceived. I wish you would tell me all
about it.”
“Well, if you Insist upon It—though
I am afraid you will only make light
of my sufferings when I tell you,” draw
ing a long face, “the fact is that my
new bonnet—and I sent to New York
for it—is a perfect failure. I am rack
ing my brains as to whether I shall
send it back and have a row about it,
or give my vanity the discipline of wear
ing it as it is.”
“Vanitas vanitatum,” with a queer
smile. Did she think to take him in
with any such stuff as this?
“I have to make the most of my op
portunities to indulge in vanities, don’t
yon know? I have to make up for snch
a lot of lost time. I>o you remember
my chronic condition of nothing to
wear in the days of old? It was piti
ful.”
“Nobody ever looked so well dressed
as you, always,” protested Gray warm
l7“And the worry and trouble I used to
have to appear even decent!” she went
on musingly. “The ripping np of old
dresses—the braid around the bottom
la the worst of old dress; yon can
have ho conception of tho nwtines9 and
dust it can hold.” n
“I suppose not,” with lauguld amuse
m “°\nd the plotting and contriving to
make old look new—to induce skimpy
draperies to seem abundant—and witha
to be grateful. Aunt Martha thought if
she gave me a home It was but fair that
tho rest should contribute my c‘°tbehg*
and each was continually hintiug to the
others that the burden of ray °JPensef
was not falriy distributed. ‘I*fbel.
Audi Annie would say, ‘why dm t you
give that old brown silk to Anita. It is
tho most hideous shade Imaginable, and
you have worn it nearly to tatters. I
does seem about time that you did a lit
tle something to help the rest of us out
with the child.’ There never was the
slightest delicacy about allowing me to
hear what a load they regarded mo.
“What a set of old cats they are.
frankly commented the nephew of the
house. “But I had no idea it was so
bad as all that. You never told me.
“Why should I? But it was almost
unbearable. One good purpose it ac
complished, though. I shall always be
spared the usual sentimental yearnings
for my lost youth. Bad as the present
may be, I still would aot go back.
Gray looked up with swift intelli
gence. Anita’s strange emotion at sight
of him the day before, her pallor ana
lassitude, the little constraint that fell
upon her when her husband’s name was
mentioned, all together had filled his
mind with vague theories as to which
this seemed the tacit admission.
[to be continued.]
PALATIMS.
Palatinb, W. Va., October 3.-Mr».
Mary Morrow, of Lexington, A a., was in
town this work. . .
Dr. and Mrs A. W. Sterling left Thurs
day for Philadelphia. The Doctor’s health
has been such for several mouths that bo
has been unable to practice, but ho hopes
to return much improved.
Will Bishop, of Grafton, was in town
yesterday. J . .
Mrs. T. W. Hines left Thursday for her
home at Rodamers, after a pleasant visit
to her mother, Mrs. Ann Higginbotham.
Miss Mvrtle Holland, a beautiful young
lady from Wilklnsburg, Pa., is tho guest of
friends in town.
W. W. Scott, foreman of the Munmngton
Times, and Frank Eilis, an enterprising
merchant of Newburg, were here last Sun
day.
W. G. Wilson, of Elkins, who was called
here by tho illness of her mother, left Fri
day evening.
Miss Ida Higginbotham is visiting
friends in Uniontown, Pa.
C. E. Wilson. F. C. Ilelmick and George
Wilson, of Clarksburg; Louis Wilson, of
West Warren: Mrs. Abram Shrlver, of
Wavnesburc, Pa., and Freeman Wilson
and wife, of Taylor county, attended the
funeral or Mrs. Isaac Wilson, Thursday.
Mrs. It. F. Hinsei, of Oregon, and Mrs.
Sarah Courtney, of Oregon, are the guests
of Lynu Courtuey and wife.
Miss Rosa Adams and Mr. John Barnes,
two popular voung people of our town,
were married last Sunday oveuing by Rev.
Isaac Barnes.
Clarenco Wilson was in Nowburgh lost
Sunday.
.Miss uiauae nice, wno nas oecn quite m,
is much better.
Itev. and Mrs. D. G. Helmick and
daughter, Grace, are in Pittsburg.
Mrs. lva Lavello is iu tho East selecting
her fall stock of millinery.
Newton Holland, of Sutton, was in town
this week.
A. A. Ayers left Tuesday evening for
Baltimore, and will go from there to Macon,
Ga.
Prof. B. H. Hall was circulating nmoDg
friends here this weok.
School opens Monday with B. H. Hall,
principal; Miss Mollie Hall, first assistant;
Miss Mary Wilson, second assistant; Miss
Gertrude’ Thompson, third assistant, and
Miss Claude Rice, supernumerary.
Z. M. Ayers has the foundation laid for
his new bouse on Water st reet, aud Goorge
Richardson has added a new kitchen to his
building on Diamond street.
TILTON VILLK*
Tii.tonviu.il O., October 3 —Joseph
Darrah, of Toronto. O., spent this week
among relatives and friends seeing how
things had prospered since his departure
about five years ago.
Rev. Mr. Cope movod to his now appoint
rr' -.t at Huntisburg, O., on last Tuesday.
1 Mr. Hoover who succeeded him will
preach Sabbath evening at 7
Thursday was pay day at the Yorkville
coal mines.
J. N. Wolvington, of Philadelphia, I’a.,
who has been visiting his sistor, Mrs. Mat
tic Medill. for the past week, returned to
his homo Thursday.
Quite a delegation from this place at
tended the Campboll meeting in Steuben
ville. Gov. Campbell Is a very entertain
ing speaker.
Ex-Sheriff Moore, of New Alexandria,
was in town on Friday.
The Singing class, under tho leadership
of Mr. Weldav, meets at the M. E. church
everv Saturday evening. Those who care
to improve their voices and learn to sing
will ao well to attend.
Miss Blanche Stewart is visiting in Pitts
burg, Pa.
Tho heirs of D. A. Worthington have of
fered the home place for sale. It consists
of thirty-six^ acres. This placo Joins High
land City, and for building purposes a bet
ter location could not be secured.
James Henry will move to his new prop
erty next week.
Misses Kato and Jennie Marthens, who
spent the summer with their sister, Mrs.
Minnie Mooro, have gone to their home in
Allegheny.
The dog that was killed on Wednesday
belonging to Mr. Bucher was prized very
highly by him.
Thomas Fitzgerald, of McKeesport, Pa.,
is spending a few days with frieus.
Mr. Machin of the pot»ery, has rented
Philip Ellie’s new house and will move
into it tho about the first of November.
A Girl's Slang.
D*trolt Frt« PrtM.
A pretty Woodward avenue girl with
a love for slang,and the proud possessor
of a father with money enough, but
small Inclination to let go of it, asked
her mother the other day about taking
a voyage up the lakes.
“Where’s the money to come from?”
inquired the mother.
“Papa, of course,” said the girl.
“Not much, of coarse,” corrected the
mother. “He growls bo at every addi
tional expense that sometimes I really
think he is as poor as tamarack swamp
i land. I wouldn't start him to scolding
for anything by asking him for money.”
“Well, I’m not afraid,” heroically re
sponded the daughter; “you say I can
go, and I’ll work him for the money.”
“All right; go ahead,” and the girl
went off down town.
That evening she was In her father's
room, and her mother wanted her down
stairs.”
“Fannie,” she called, “come down
here; I want you.”
“I’m busy, mamma,” she answered.
“What are doing?”
“Working the growler, mama,” and
papa won’t know until he reads this
what made his wife laugh so he could
hear her clear upstairs.
btronjc t.vldcnc*.
“You say your sou John started a
newspaper?”
“Yes.”
“Is making himself felt in the com
mlty?"
‘You bet he is. He has been tarred
and feathered twice.—New York Prtu.
For iMtsaca.
Editor—“The only way to succeed In
the newspaper business is to give the
people what they want.”
Friend—“Have you got atlO bill you
can let me have?”—Puck.
DOES THIS MEAN YOU ?
Eottor Road It At Any rR£0
Many a man who formerly possessed a ^
erfal phyaique and strong, steady n»rvei V(.
dersat hts feeling of weakness, du!in*«, (f'
haustion. Thera Is an extremely nervous roai.,
tion, a dull, cloudy sensation, disagree^'’
feelings In head and eyes, bad taste in ’
mornings, the vision becomes dim, memory ■ j
paired, and there is frequent dizztus.j v
spondency and depression of mind. Th« ne.T"
become so weakened that the least shock * ■
flush the face or bring on a trembling with 4
pita tion.
Luckily, there Is the great and wonderfg ..
storative. Dr. Greene's Servers which wiii r
back to the weakened and exhausted tjr.
the strength it has lost, imparts vigor- ^
brain and nerves, vitalizes and invigorat*
. • tVM. ✓'iSsT"* rr ft,
physical powers, dispels despondency and >
stores again that grand degree of lusty stream*
and power which in Ignorance or folly w* hat#
exhausted. Druggists sell it. I1.CO. Pur*,
vegetable and harmless. Try it and p>u cvl
never rtpet it.
•*I deem It my duty to the public to state i*»
wonderful effects of l»r. (ireeue'a Xenara in ■?
oa«e. llv improvement ha* been most gratify*
ing, and language cannot describe the cliaag*
iu my feeling* and proepocU. HW* all rat
ffh>otn and derpondenry. there it note ll.jMani
hope. 1 gained IS pouuds, and am *tlll gaiait;
Not alone royeelf, but I know many others whs
can testify to the merit* of Dr. Greens’*Her*
vura.
Charlie 11. HonoDon,
3R Dana St., Somerville. M11
_ Dr. Greene, the *ucoe*sfnl sped
He 8.**“ allst In curing all form* of c*r I
vou* aud ebrouio disease*, 15 W. Mth Street,
New York, can be consulted free, personally,*
by letter. Call or write him about your eu.
or #end for symptom blank to dll out. sml a lei
ter fully explaining your disease, giving advice,
eio., will be returned fr*e.
Atfentionr Sporfsaso!
XT'
I ITAVE A NICE STOCK OK
Gaos, Revolvers, Sperling Goods!
—AMD ALL KIKnil OF—
AMMUINTTION
|HTKlr#t-«l*#* repairing of Grin*. IlloyelK
Uektooklug, Cb«k« Boring, K«browning bn
re!# and General llepalrlng a specialty.
ALOIS KUEN.
Health is WeaHh!|
kmLi-r ”b»^(
mizfetk'&Jttl
.*/>*'*•* ‘•■*aNc?f»*TP:A-'«»r
DTrcTwir'i K«*n"An»B»*r»IjJ
«rr aKueraataad 4peelCc for Hy*t*r^* ^
tea*. (■'*-..^.ooa. Pita, Bereave .
Hoadache, Bereone ProetrattoB. 0M'_ n«:^
aae of alcohol or tobacco. Wakefal*'' u%
DepreaaloB, SoftenlBt of ‘.ha Brain, rti« . ^
icaanlty and leading V> xniiery.deeey a* y H
Prematura Old Aee. Barrenceae. L°**
IB Hihereex. iBfolnntary Loaaat an"!
tort*.* eacaed by ctar-eiertion £' l!L« *»
lalf-Abnaa or Orer-IndBlifenoe *•«* f ,j
talr.a oma month'a treatment. ■«*** f
boxee for *.00. aeat by mail ?»?*>& oa
' p ls* Gutr«-tte Six Boxes
To enra ary eaaa. * Uh aw:h ori»TT«*£
aa tor aix boiea, accompanied w.tt ■k"riM)r
send the porohaaer a written
fund the money it the treatment doMi°
aenra. Qnaranteea leaned onlyt-roar
D,.„.u
Mar*-! end T»e!ftfc atrae'.i Wfcaeiinf.