San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-03-21

and intellectually. she, dencate, dreamy
eyed, wrapped up in her baby and her mem
cries to his almost utter exclusion. One day
the child sckens, grows violently i'll, dies.
Her grief is silent, but intense. She will
neither eat nor sleep; just sits still as stone
in the little "dugout," and looks and stares
at the wee waxen thing which lies therein
So, when her husband rides into town to buy
the little coffin, he calls in to see the doctor
and ask him to come out and visit his wife.
At sunset he digs the grave-such a small
gravel All around is isolation, prairie, sky.
The woman, crouching on the ground near
the dwelling, is the only other mourner.
The task done, he goes down into the dug
out" and comes up again with the little
nailed down box in his arms Tenderly he
lowers it; softly he lets fall upon it each
shovelful of earth. He is blind with tears.
The fresh brown mound smoothed over, he
goes up to his wife. She does not seem to
see him. She is looking straight ahead.
Cory"
''Don'tl" she says savagely. 1--WE lost him
and now it! wish was dead!'
Hurt irresolute, he stands still moment.
Then he goes within and sits down by the
bed where the baby has lain. She is grievinG
still, then, for the man who failed to come to
her the day set for their wedding! Tilted,
deserted, yesl That was why in ptque and
pride she married him, the ignorant gardener
of her wealthy uncle, and had gone away
with him to Iowa. They had not prOSpered.
She held no communication with those at
home This year, after their baby came, they
decided to seek fortune farther west. And
now-now the baby was gone and her new
loss had brought back the old one.
Harkl A voice speaks without.
as any one ill here? There was a request
on my slate"-
A cryl Such queer, vii cry it is that
cuts across the strangers words. The man
in the "dugout" leaps to his feet, as does the
woman without. Through the doorway
against the patch of sunset sky he can see her
standing with arms outfung.
"Willie!" she cries again; "Willie!"
The doctor from town speaks hoarsely one
word only-her name. There is absolute
silence for a little while. Then he bursts out
ueTCely, paSSlOndJely:
"Why couldn't you have waited-I did you
no wrong When left you the week before
we were to have been married, and went up
to the city, got into trouble. | was no
saint. never pretended wao. This was
drunken quarrel lshot a man. l was I'M
known, and gave a false name. was held
to await the result of his injuries-held two
months. | couldn't write you the truth of
the affair My part in it was too disgraceful.
| wouldn't lie. So was silent till | could tell
you all and ask you to forgive me- The man
recovered. | was discharged. | went straight
to Vanceton. | heard you had married some
clod hopping idiot and gone away with him"
He is good!" she says slowly.
The other laughs harshiy. And you love
him, of cOurse!'
"Go!" she cries in weak, womanish fury
"Go!"
"Do you love him, Cora"
She is i'll, trembling. His brutal insistance
forces "A reply. She slips down by the dug
out and covers there with her face hidden.
"Oh, WILLIE Oh, Willie" The tone says
all 1t is full of love, but love that is only
pathOs, passion, despair He turns, walks
slowly away across the prairie He is me-
Chanically unhitching his horse when a heavy
tread comes toward him In the clear silver
ness preceding twilight two men face each
other. One speaks calmly: Il heard wha
you said. Answer me this: If she were free
tomorrow would you marry herr
Quick as a flash comes the reply: "By
heaven, yes!"
Then DR.. Herbert, gentleman and student,
drives back to town, and John Hilton goes to
the "dugout''-to his wife She is still in the
same place, the same position. He gets her
hat and shawl and carefully puts them on her.
Then he leaves her a while and harnesses up
the horse.
"Come, Cory; I'm agoin' to drive you
into town. There's goin' to be a storm. /
seen the clouds to the north tonight. An
this place leaks dreadful. You must stay at
the hotel a while, eff we have to sell the
team"
Without a word, stupidity it seems, she
obeys him. Through the delicious June twi-
light they drive the five miles into town
Once he speaks. Keep this" he says, and
gives her the canvas bag containing all their
worldly wealth. At the hotel he procures her
a comfortable bed, soothing drink. She falls
asleep. Once, twice, thrice, he kisses her
Then he goes out, climbs up on his huge
wagon, heads the horses southwark. The
storm he prophesied is blowing up Lances
of lightning stab the darkness. Now and then
sounds faint, distant rumble. A soft, strong
wind arises 1t flaps the loose canvas of the