Wood River times. [volume] (Hailey, Idaho) 1882-1915, 1893-09-11
CAMP TAMPA'S ELEANOR.
An Arizona Romance, Written for This
Paper.
BY THE DUCHESS.

miners. be termed "tenderfoot." which
IS the American nickname for a smooth
dandy among rough men. After the
morning meal, during which the three
discuss the deserters, the miners. and
other matters relating'to their suddenly
lonesome condition, the young pair are
lett alone. while the Colonel goes off by
himself to consider.
We are in a terrible trouble, aren't
WEI" says Miss Lorley, softly. But
we shan't starve, indeed. They"-al-
iuding TO the enemy In general with
little irown-"sha'n't have that satisfac.
ton: You really mustn't take it SO
much to heart.
oh. no. can't now" says the ST.
lent young man, after which he falls
into one OF his brown studies. Waking
up from 1t he goes on, placidly, Il did
/ What!" demands she, somewhat
startled.
Why, the taking you to heart" re-
turns he
OH" She turns to him with unex-
peected vivacity. Wasn't it a pity
about the breakfast cakes?" she says.
Whose cakes?" startled in his turn.
Our cakes-mine.
Pleased with her complete success in
having drifted the conversation into a
safer channel, she now confesses to
him all about those indomitable pieces
of dough. dwelling with hea1t-rending
| pathos upon their stiffness and their
hard and unyielding natures.
The young officer. having laughed
! little, proceeds to console her.
We are not SO badly off, he says
The boys have all deserted; and who
can altogether blame them-with Sl3
month and possible fortune in gold
| offered to them for choice? So much
for them. AS to the rest of the miners,
they believe there is gold foundation
for this post, and you can't expect them
to respect even the military in their
crazed eagerness. Why, l am tempted
strongly to resign my commission and
take to the mines. Awful bore, you
know, to keep out Of it.
For you, yes. 1t was quite too good
OF you to stay here with papa-and
me-"
For me?' not needing the latter part
of her little speech, and dropping his
glasses in his amazement. Bore for
you, l meant. You're a clever girl;
perhaps that's why you took such an
extraordinary view OF my remark"
Was 1t so very extraordinary" max
ing him present OF a very lovely smile.
We'll, let it be so. II you will. At least
let me say we acknowledge the trouble
we give you"
"Oh, as to that. like IT,"
what! Trouble? Well, I don't, I"
says she gayly. And to think, beating
her small foot with certain naughty
petulance upon the floor. we should have
had none of it but for the perfidy Of
these soldiers. But they shall be taught
their places yet. We shall neither
truckle to them nor bend.
Il wouldn't truckle, certainly" feys
the young man, regarding with a peculiar
sense of tenderness the slight figure be-
meath him in the low chair, with its
lovely mutinous eyes and mouth. But
during such times as these, when q
sense of injury 10 rife, 1 should bend-a
little"
What"
He drops his glasses again, but other
wise shows no signs of contrition or any
desire whatever to retract his offensive
remark.
Il really mean it, he says equally
Moderation at this peculiar juncture is
everything, and your father forgive
mel is a little-well severe in his &C.
tons. He might let the soldiers dig,
and even move the barracks to give the
miners a chance"
At this Miss Lorley rises and con-
fronts him. She is SO pretty that even
mistaken indignation sits we'll upon her,
and, indeed, only serves to heighten her
charms.
My father" she says now, very cold
ly. lis always right. One must be
either right or wrong. That even YOU"
(as though he were a being past all
grace must allow. If wrong, certainly
lot him bend-your word, believe
disdainfully-"if right let him maintain
discipline. These a'e his sentiment
and mine. We, knowing ourselves to
very foolish sentiments" says he,
calmly. "The wise man, in a case like
this, would temporize. But really. you
know, bend was your word. not mine. +"
"Temporizing just now means weak
ness, says she, ignoring his protest.
Il hardly see that. The Colonel has
taken too high stand"
There is small upright piano in the
room. 1t has been brought from civil
ization into the wilderness for the girl
sake. She plays and sings well, as
Surgeon Brannard admiringly knows.
During the present conversation she
has seated herself at the instrument
and thrummcd the keys by way of en-
phasis. But now she turns rather alb
ruptly upon the man who dares criti-
else her fathers conduct. and ejacu-
lates: You wouldn't fight your foes.
! Ell? You are coward!
a coward" He shrinks from her as
though she had struck him. An absurd
sensibility about his want Of physical
prowess clinss to him always, and rem
ders him peculiarly sensitive TO any
word that may seem to hint at his SELF
supposed lack of manliness.
1T was cowardly to suggest that my
father should give in.
Il don't think said that" says her
companion, recovering from his chagrin
by an effort. and turning to her a face
very pale and still. Il merely advised
a little forbearance, which. in times such
as these, is not only kindly but neces-
sary."
Papa is not wanting in forbearance.
yet you blame him, and to me. l will
not hear him censured," says the girl,
with tears in her eyes.
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