The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1896-08-01
ridin jest yit."

ridin jest yit."
Beck's handsome eyes smiled. Il
wud,' she said, do jist exactly
what l pleased. I'm rich an I'm free
an IN goin to enjoy life, an We can
save y~erselves a power by shettin
up"
Then" said Aunt Dilsey, "she
ourled up like a young cat an 1
cudn't git another word out'n her."
The next Sunday night there were
ten saddle horses and buggies tied
to the posts and the fence. Beck
never enjoyed anything SO much in
her life. She treated every n
alike, gave them cake and home
made wine, laughed, joked and turn
ed them all out at 10 o'clock, invit.
ing them to call again. But the next
Sunday night there was no Becky
at home, and she electrified the small
audience at the Methodist church
at the crossroads, by appearing
among them with a stripping cousin
of II.
During these days Marion Moore
never appeared at the Bailey house,
nor formed n of the young men,
aye, ever the middle aged and old
men-who never failed to crowd
about the young widow whenever
she rode into the county town on
Sunday afternoon. Being the only
maj she missed, Beck grew FESTIVE.
and one October day, when Marion
was clearing up a new bit of ground
for the spring tobacco, she came rid
ing down the lane toward him, her
black skirts flying, her checks blaz-
ing and her tendrillike curls all fall
ing down from under her black cap.
He saw her coming. away off, and
he knew the errand on which she
came, and he had to steel his heart
against her to hold his vantage
ground. S%talvart, brawny, hand
some, he rested on his AK calmly,
though the blood in his veins ran as
riotOus Il course as is a brooks after
a storm. How Beck laughed as she
drew up!
Il haven't been up here fur years.
she said. Come over to the cliff,
Marion. I'll walk Black Nell"
Il must work, Beck" he said.
Life isn't play all around, We
know"
(Which means, ye won't" she
smiled. But I know ye want to
go, plum bad! Yo're playin a losin
game, Marion, fur I know by yer
eye that ye're jest the same as We
were, and she laughed tantalizing-
ly. Don't think We can fool me,
Marion"
He threw his AK down with angry
vehemence and stood looking at her.
II don't know whether ye're
witch Or what" he said hoarsely.
Il am jest the same, Beck, an ye
want to look out. 1 can't stand fool
in"
II won't marry ag'in. I'm goin to
enjoy life," she Knocked. "What's
the use of my marryin? I've got
money an land an years Of good
times ahead of me. What'd I git in
exchanged"
Marion V answered except by
his persistent gaze.
~"Goodby," she said presently.
"Ye're in too bad a humor. Ye're
takin life too serious, Marion. There's
more'n gray skies above my head.
Give me tho blue ones" Then she
galloped away to the bluffs and Mar
ions temple OF nature, high in the
woods above the river. He half fam
cied she would come back his way,
but no. The afternoon wore away
and no 1.-the. slim figure on a black
mare appeared IN his horizon.
So she knew. and since she knew,
she Knocked him. Well, he had al
ways loved the brier rose. How
could he tame this untalnable IT,
gress, this guesser of mems secrets
and mooker of mems loves? The in
buttons of Marion Moore were bet
ter than his knowledge or his rea-
son He guessed that only a real,
lasting affection would ever make
her more faithful, more tender,
nor true than any other woman
but how, how, indeed, was this to
come to her?
The mad reports went flying hith.
Ell and thither. Becky was here,
there, everywhere. 1t vas Colonel
Will and Tom Pence and Arthur
Smedley and Henry Carroll. The
widows bonnet was now never
worn, and bows of lavender and
elaborate black and white toilets
were sent for to Cincinnati, and
cooking and feasting and fun went
OIL in the Bailey house. Thanksgiv-
ing came and Becky was the queen
of the Pence family gathering on
that day.