Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1897-02-03


stranger. Alniry.- said she can't Jon
and Mr.. Tucker come . tea toward the
end Of TIE week.
ID y pleased answered Mrs.
T Tucker Mr.. Tuekers bnsier'n CON-
mon Just uew with the haFin.' bul per
hars be could come along lzte in the
Z afternoon and 20 home with ne
Mr.. Tucker. however. would make no
promise. IN see about !" vas what
F be said The day was 50 warm that
Mrs Tucker went 70 he storereom 70
get out a certain black and white
T sprigged lawn. which she KEPT for the
hottest weather. and which had not
( been worn that season The store closet
vas built around the chimney. II was
100 small for a room. too large for a
/ closet, and II had a little bit Of win
/ dow near the floor that would not open.
Mrs. Tucker was all ready TO 90 when
she saw that she had left the door IN
fastened. and she stepped back and
turned The button
Il proved 10 be an enjoyable after
noon. though Mr.. Tucker did not come
70 tea Il don't suppose II was so he
could get away Mrs Tucker ex-
| planned. alphabetically; the hays
r1penin' 50 fast She was disappointed
herself. for she enjoyed her husbands
society at times-be. made a good APP
| pearanee In COMPANY On this account
she returned early n the evening. hold
/ ing her muslin skirts we'll up 70 keep
them out OF thu dust Contrary 10 their
usual twilight habit, the side door was
closed. Everything looked Just as she
had left II. She hooked back the door
and opened a window 10 let in the fresh
air. II went up with a bang. Rata
tat; rat-atat. What was that: Mrs
| fuckers pulse jumped wildly: both her
hands sprung up as she listened. There
I il was again. A loud thumpfhump
going on upstairs.
Mercy What can il be. Where's
Isr'el that be don't hear the noise: 1t
can't" Awful fears chased her as,
dragging her everyday hat By one
string. she rushed upstairs where the
sounds. louder and louder. guided her
straight 10 the storenoom door.
There was no installing the animat-
ing motive Of those blows; rage, word
/ less and impotent rage. was venting
itself in regular pounding thwacks Ike
a tattering ram inside that closet; the
door trembled under them. Mrs Tucker
| turned the button and the door shot
forward with the force Of catapault.
tall burly form. partly white and
partly black In the dusk stepped forth.
-.Isrel Putnam Tucker, how you
scaret me. How came you there:"
Did Israel Putnam Tucker deign 10
reply: Not he. He stalked majestical-
ly across the hall with measured
tread that lost none of It's impressive
ness from his being in his shirt sleeves.
His wife followed al his heels, all agi-
tation and remorse.
You don't say you was In that closet
all the aft'noon: Why. the awful. Why
didn't you speak: Why didn't you say
something: ] was IN a hurry an /
suppose you didn't have time. An the
boy was way over in the lot, want hec
OF course. he couldn't hear you. I'm
= Isl llVuE
It for anything II I'd known Such a
hot day, TOO. I'm afraid you'll be sick.
Your face IS just purple"
This was going just too far. Mr..
Tucker lifted his free hand fthe other
held his vest and wiited COLLAR in a
single determined gesture, as one who
should say: ~Avaunt.' He might have
been posed just so on a pedestal for
statue Of his namesake Then looking
neither TO right nor left, he marched
downstairs.
CONSERVATION made Mrs. fuckers
round eyes rouEder and puckered all
her face; something else divided her
swift mind, something that wanted to
be amusement, and had no kindred soul
TO share II with.
.Oh, my, he's just full OF madr' she
soliloQuiZed. Don't blame him. Sod
be If I'd been shut up four or five
hours in that little closet: only I'd been
thinkin' some how comical twas. and
kind o maxim story OF II TO tell after
ward, an he don't get any comfort that
way"
Mr. Tucker came in from the yard
after awhile, and sat down In the door
with his newspaper. His wife luttered
about anxIously. let me make you
glass OF lemonade, Isr'el," she sug-
gested
The top OF Mr.. fuckers head above
the newspaper waved decidedly from
side to side
Il won't ask him; I'll 90 mike it.
thought his better half; he hasn't had
any supper, either"
The pungent freshness OF lemon peel
and the tinkle OF the spoon in the
pitcher were pleasant things that warm
night, and Mr.. fuckers senses seemed
TO greet them with approval: but as bis
wife SET the glass beside him he looked
askance at it and spoke for the firs<
time: Il don't want it,"
DO drink II, Isrel, it'll cool you on
I-don'f-want-it"
She said no more. but carried the
oil s..,~ - lie