The times., 1898-04-03


Fshia fa p BsfHrr ifHa FsHFR Hwt have Iaa
Thought 5f fH- dauHft thnt tHrenfeas Fsa
whHH yrH laaEr thiE safe retrrafT
Yes have Thought % that ~
course" replied Desmond trnpa tieufiv
hut IL I m 10 be hung for a crime new
er committed. then I'm 70 be hung but
I've got 10 see. Nita again. II ] swing for
tt. You see. my time would have been out
In two months, and | intended to follow
the tribe into Oregon. Nita described the
route they were TO take, and now l can
go all the sooner. Why not be there with
her instead of here, eating my heart out?
The thought came to me like an inspira-
ton this afternoon, and I'm going tomor-
row. Providing" he added, little
shame-facedly. you will loan me lit
tie money until l can hear from home"
| McDougal nodded. Certainly, Des-
| mond you shall have what you need, if
| you must go You will start in the morn
| ing. L SUPPOSE"
Desmond hesitated. II had thought"
he said, looking away from his friend,
that l might as well take the freight
| that stops at the tank at midnight. II is
II now
McDougal rose and vent into the house.
When he came out With a roll of bills in
his hand. Desmond was Waiting He took
the money and thrust 1t into his pocket.
You shall have it back in a few weeks
old boy?''
mo, I'm not afraid to- trust you-not
with my money; but, che added. while his
! hand grasped the younger mans shoul-
| der almost sterny, Il TshoIie it is only my
money and never my happiness 1 need
trust to you" Then, more gently, 'Ex-
Cuse me, Desmond If I am rude; | did
not mean TO be, but I shall miss you"
Desmond did not answer, except to
grasp the proffered hand warmly. A mo-
ment later he was gone.
In the weeks following Desmond's de-
parture McDougal grew impatient with
himself; the days dragged drearily and
the evenings grew unbearable He had
intended remaining at the station another
year. BY that time the home that had
been his goal through these years OF
waiting would be possible. But of late he
was beginning to think that another year
would be impossible here. Helens letters
Il had helped to make him patient; but
now, though they were as fond and
sweet as ever, each one filled him with
an increased longing to go to her. He
struggled against this weakness until
finally the thought came like an inspira-
ton" as it had come to Desmond-why
not write to headquarters for stbstf-
tute and go to her, If only for single
hour
He wrote the letter that night, and in
west going train. In the box that served
as his individual postoffice he found two
letters one Helen's weekly message and
the other addressed in Desmond's char
acteristic hand. He snatched them hasti-
Iy part. to stow Helen's safely in his
pocket to be read at home. Desmond
wrote only a word ION the march, he
said and inclosed a draft to cover his
debt. The letter was not dated. and the
| post-mark too dim TO be deciphered on
the bench outside the door he read Hell
ems letter-a long, dear letter, full of
| happy plans for the future and of love
for him, but through it all there ran Il
vein of sadness that somehow made Itself
felt between the lines In the postscript
she added, Something tells me that you
ought to be here need you, dear" That
was ALL but in after years, when time
and frequent handling had made the
pages fragile as a dried rose petal. he
read that plaintive call to him with an
aching throat and through blurring
tears.
In due time the official leave came,
dated two whole weeks away. Those
| two weeks passed, and the substitute ar
rived. Like Desmond. McDougal took
the midnight train and hurried north
ward to the little Washington village
that was Helen's home.
As he went ashore he regretted that he
had not told her of his intention. 1t
would have been an added happiness to
see her sweet face eXpectant among the
group of strangers. He glanced at them
, carelessly. then pausd and stepped back
ward for a second look at a familiar
figure Just disappearing in the cabin II
certainly looked like Desmond, but that
was unlikely, and even If 1t were, why
should he delay one moment? A fierce
: impatience hurried him on. At the house
} he was greeted warmly by the family.
Helen was not there, however, and some
one explained that she had gone out in
! the afternoon and was still away. Doubt
: less she would be back soon.
For an hour they sat there talking,
: McDougal hearing with his outer ear
only the questions that were put to him.
At last he could control himself no longer,
and rose abruptly. Could he not go to
meet Helen?-he asked with what COM
posure he could command. They gave
him such help as they could as to her
probable whereabouts. and with knowing
smiles released him to find her. He was
off in moment, and from place to place
; inQuiring for her in a voice compelled to
be commonplace, while his heart foretold
: a negative reply. At last, some one had
seen her In her boat alone pulling up the
river. In five minutes he was following
up the pathess river on whose ripping
surface no print of boat-keei helped
! him
: The hours went on. the dusk grew to
. dark; but that Helen might now be at
home he never for a moment thought.
She was here and he must find her.
He rested a moment on his oars, and as
he leaned thus. scanning the sedgy bor-
| ders of the stream, the moon threw her
: | searehlight across the gloomy waters. In
II the siIvery ray he saw q dark object
| swaying and swinging with the current.
/ He padded to 1t quickly. 1t was canoe
, small, light and empty. From the bow a
, | rope dropped into the water, now hang
ing loose as an eddy swept the boat back
ward, now pulling taut from an invisible
: anchor AcDougal caught the anchor
rope and pulled il gently and steadily to-
: ward him. He felt a strong resistance,
then a heavy weight rising with his eff
i. | fort. lie dared not think what 1t might
be- and yet when a woman's hand APP
= | peared beneath his own. he did not start
: except to clasp in his the poor dead fin
> | gers over the boats side he learned and
| drew her TO him until her fair head rose
above the surface and he loose hair float
ed out. Then. as he bent his face close
, | over hers, he seemed to see again the
: ! barron mesa, the dull background of the
: | evening sky, Desmond's approaching fig
: | ure. and the woman of his vision, and to
! breathe the heavy odor of dying water
. ! lilies and OF reedy shores. The waters
parted he took his burden from their
bosom to his own. and in the cleft he
seemed to see Desmonds blue eyes smil-
ing up TO his.
> He laid her gently down and took up the
oars again. AS he left the charmed circle
around the pool he cast one more glance
, upward to the kindly light above, but
| into 10 for. haH a nni ho ma N