Goldsboro weekly argus. [volume] (Goldsboro, N.C.) 1885-1909, 1895-11-21

Daylight would find him sitting
right there, but he would beat the
judges watch and gain the opportunity
of speaking to her.
The time passed on until the noisy
CLOCK on the mantel clearly and for.
chilly announced the hour of ten.
1t had been comparatively easy this
Tar, but now was the time when Clint
usually went home.
The real contest was about to begin.
The judge showed his chair back tc
the table, picked up a paper anc be.
gan to read.
From time to time he glanced over
the top of his paper at the two talking
before the fire, but still read on.
when the clock struck eleven, he
threw the paper down, pulled his chat,
back to the fire, and drew the youno
man into an animated political discus,
sion.
Isabel stirred about the room. put
ting things in order for the night.
1t was nearing midnight. For the
last fifteen minutes the conversation
had begun to lag.
There were cold moments of com.
plete silence.
"Had you noticed that I had traded
horses?" Clint asked, in one painful
pause.
mo; have you?" Isabel asked, com
Ing forward with interest.
Yes. I've traded the gravs for
George Merwin's blacks. OF course
there was considerable to boot. They
go like the wind in my new cutter"
Il should think they would" Isabel
drew a deep breath. II do like black
horses. ! never cared for gray ones. 1
always think of having to look for a
red-headed girl" she laughed. II
should think you'd always be on the
outlook for one when you ride behind
them"
Perhaps Mr.. Holderman is looking
for a red-headcd girl the Judge said,
with a queer look in the direction of
the young man. There's a suDarsti-
ton that a red-headed girl has a vio-
lent temper. Now, that isn't ALWAYS
true" he said, after a moments silence.
In which his thought seemed to have
been far away. 'Isabers mother had
as sweet a disposition as any woman
that ever lived, and her hair was the
olo of that deep flame there"
Isabel was leaning on the back of
her fathers chair. why, father.
you've always said my hair was almost
the color of mothers. I'm sure no one
would think of calling mine red"
Il don't know about that" the iudre
laughed; and l don't know about the
temper, either" he added, reaching I'D
and pinching her cheek.
81 never liked red hair, but Tn sure
l don't believe in that sign" Clint said.
clumsily. He gazed fxedly into the
fire, and felt as though he were turn
ing to stone
The clock struck twelve with a reso-
nant defiant stroke, as though it I'M
derstood the contest in which it held
the stakes, and refused to commit itself
as to whose side would win.
At a quarter past twelve the Judge
stood up.
Clint felt his heart beating wildly.
The moment of triumph was at hand.
The judge crossed to the bay win
dow at the other end of the room.
1sabel's eyes followed him ~nervouslv.
From n side, among the geraniums
and ivy, he drew the chess table, and
pushed it before him toward the FIRE.
Il think it would be pleasant for
us to have a game of chess" he said
atfably.
"Oh, thank you, sir. think l must
be going home"
"Oh, must you? Well, come over
again, and we'll get at it earlier in the
evening"
1t seemed hours before Clint finally
found himself out on the smooth snow
beaten road, spinning along toward
home.
| He would have been completely
wretched in his defeat if it had not
been for that lock in IsabeTs ewes
when she handed him the corn hopper.
He could endure his fathers ridicule
and wait his time, remembering that
look.
And so he made a good story OF it at
breakfast the next morning, and
added, elevating his voice above the
roaring laugh OF his father and the
shrieks of his mother and sister:
Never you mind. The judge isn't
through with me yet. I've only fred
my first gun. I'll own when l came
out of the house l was out of shot, but
1 haven't given up the fight yet"
"Oh, you'll let some other bantam
rooster carry her off. l guess I'm safe
enough on the cash and land | prom-
ised you," his father answered, with a
provoking laugh,
Don't you count on it," Clint said,
sprlnglng up from the table with fire
in his eyes. I'm not downed vet, l
tell you"
"All right, sonny; we'll give a big
dance to celebrate your engagement,
and an oyster supper. Isuppose there's
no rush about ordering the oysters?"
I'll hold you to that" Clint said,
bringing his fist up against the door.
"If the things settled by Saturday
week, we'll have the dance. If it isn't
well. it wont be. I'm going over to
town after the mall"
He turned and went out of the room.
AS the door closed he heard his sister
say, tittering:
Clint has abou as hard a time
counting Isabel as you had counting
mother"
h was a warm thought of comfort
to him. At least Isabel had never de-
MED him her love, and he knew that
his mother had been hardly won.
1t was a bright winter morning. Be
fore him was a clear stretch of road to
the Iowa river, three miles away.
The white fields on either side
sparkled in the sunlight. The great
drifts rolled up along the. fences,
looked blue in the shadows of their
fantastic terracings. The sleighing
never twas better.
All at once Clint heard the noise Of
sleighbells, and a voice called to him:
'Give nae the road"
He turned and saw Isabel Hilton
coming toward him, driving her own
bay ponies at a fearful rate.