, 1890-07-24
him. She is looking straight ahead.

lost him-and now 1t! wish were
deadv' ,
Hurt, irresolute, he stands still a
moment. Then he goes In ana sits
down by the bed where the baoy
has lain. She IL grieving still, then,
| for the man who fniled TO come To
her tho day set for their wedding?
Tilted, deserted, yes! That was why
In pIoue and pride she married him,
the ignorant gardener of her wealthy
uncle. and had gone away with him
to Iowa. They had not prosperedi.
She held no communication with
those at home. This year, after
their baby came, they decided 10
seek fortune farther West. Ana
now-now the baby was gone ana
her new loss had brought back the
old one.
Hark! A voice speaks without.
"Is any one i'll here! There was q
request on my slate"
a cry! Such queer, wild cry ~
Ia that cuts across the stranger 3
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 out
flung.
"Willie!r she cried again; evil
lieu
The doctor from town speaks
hoarsely one word only her name.
There Is absolute silence for little
while. Then he bursts out fiercely,
passionately: .
"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. 1 was no
saint. never pretended l was.
This was Il drunken quarrel. shot
u man, / was unknown and gave n
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 II
was too disgraceful. | wouldn't lie.
So | was silent till | could tell you
oil and ask you TO forgive me. The
man recovered. | was discharged.
| went straight TO Nancetou. |
heard you had married some clod-
hopping idiot and gone away with
him.
"He Is good" she said slowly.
The other laughed harshly. "And
you love him, of course"
"Gow she cried in weak, woman
ish fury, "go!'
"Do you love him, Cora?n
She Is Ill, trembling His brutal
insistance forces II reply. she sits
down by the "dugout' and covers
there with her face hidden. "Oh,
Willie! oh, Williew The tone
says all 1t is full of love, but
love that is only pathos, passion,
despair. He turns, walks slowly
across the prairie. He is mechani-
cally unhitching his horse, when II
heavy tread comes toward him. In
the clear silrerness preceding twi-
light two men face each other. One
speaks calmly: ~ heard what you
said. Answer me this: If she were
free tomorrow would you marry
her?"
Quick as u flash comes the reply:
"By heaven, yes.n
Then DIR. Herbert, gen tleman and
student, drives back To town aud
John Hilton goes to the ''dugout"-
to his wife. She is still in the same
place, in the same position. He gets
her hat and shawl aud carefully
puts them on her. Then he leaves
her awhile and harnesses up the
horse.
Come, Cory; I'm a-goin' to
drive you into town. There's goin'
to be storm. | seen the clouds to
the north tonight. An this place
leaks dreadful. You must stay at
the hotel awhile, if we have To sell
the team"
Without word, stup,dly it
seems, she obeys him. Through the
delicious June twilight they drive
the hve miles into town. Once he
speaks. keep this!" he says, and
gives her the canvas bag containing
ali their wealth. At the hotel ne
procures her comfortable bed, n
soothing drink. She falls asleep.
Then he goes out, climbs upon his
huge wagon, heads the horses south
ward. The storm he prophesied Is
blowing up. Lances of light
ming stab the darkness. Now
and then sounds faint distant
rumble. a soft, strong wind arises.
IL flaps the loose canvas of the cara
van. On the ribbed roof the first
heavy drops of rain begin to patter
On. Across the state line, over the
railroad track, up the bluff, along
the level--right along. Is 1t here
tile "dugout' stands? The light
ming gives him answer.
The night wears on. The storm
increases in volume. The prairies
are rain-washcd, wind-swept. A
terrific roar lasts till dawn. Then
the tumult dies down. Peace comes
again upon the weary world. And
the sun rises. Its radiance glltters
across the wet green grass. Warm
grows the air The hum of insects
Incomes audible. And the sweet
bird songs are everywhere.
But what are bird songs to one
who. sleeps? And surely he is not
awake, he who stirless. silent
drenched lies by the little grave
upon the breast of the prairie
Clutched iu his hand Is something
which shines in the sunlight. Come
away! Let thrush, and lark, and
ilnnet sing never so lowly, sing tIll
thei hearts are empty and their full
throats voiceiess, they cannot waken
one quiet sleeper nor change the
peaceful current of his dreams.
KATE NJ. CLEARY.
women Moro Economical Than Men,