The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1898-10-07

breath. / have sent down the canyon
for DR.. Hutchinson; watch for him,
and bring him to me when he comes
Then she went back to her child.
II had been in the kitchen less than
ten minutes when Clara called:
Harry, come quick, can't make
Jessie answer mel
I'm q second I was at the bedsidei
one look was enough. Clara, chatting
Jessie's hands, started to ask some
question; she must have read my face.
for with o cry she sprang from the
bed and moved towards her husband
But when she saw his condition she
shrank back, hesitated, then crossing
to where stood flung her arms about
my neck and kissed me. wasn't sur
prised; it seemed right, it seemed
natural-but. ah! how l wanted to say
something that would comfort her;
yet-God! man, couldn't get grip on
words; SO / just lifted her face and
kissed 1t.
"I know what you mean, Harry,
she said. softly. For a moment /
seemed all alone, now know that I'm
not
Then she went back to her dead
child. don't know what should have
done next. The sight of that kneel-
ing woman, that dead child, and that
drunken man, fired my blood; but just
then the doctor and Jim arrived. She
had friends to help her now, and l
slipped off to my own cabin.
"Cowardly of me to clear out?-I
know that's what you think-but !
couldn't help 1t. Something had woke
up in me couldn't understand and was
afraid of. WANTED to be alone TO sort
things over and get new hold on my
self. And that night, on the broad
OF my back. did think it over, saw
what l ought to have seen months be.
fore, and made my plans, loved
Clara, and she loved me-those two
things were clear as day. If stayed
In the valley there would come
trouble. We were boy ard girl yes
tcrday; We would be man and woman
the next time we met. Luckily, so it
seemed to me that night, Simpson. q
mining broker in Denver, had written
me few days before that he could sell
my property for & 10000 If l would go
over to London and close the deal
Before that night ended l decided to
close with his offer and go-go with
out seeing Clara again. The old val
ley doctor was splendid fellow, and
would stand by Clara; she'd miss me,
feel hurt at me, knew. 1t wasn't a
pleasant road I had marked out to
travel; but then the choice wasn't be-
tween a good and o bad road, but be-
tween a bad and worse one. Then,
too, I'd write TO her from London, and
maybe Jessie's death would pull Ames
up and make a decent man of him
That's how argued it with myself. Az
daybreak ] was riding down the
Boulder canyon.
II reached Denver all right; saw the
broker, but found out that l could not
get the papers fixed until night. This
left me with a lot Of time on my hands,
and. not caring to loaf about and
think, ran over to Boulder City to
look up an old chum. But first made
that broker promise me faithfully to
send all the papers to my hotel, so that
I could start east by the Atlantic ex-
press. I didn't have any luck at
Boulder-chum had been dead six
months-and got back to Denver two
hours before calculated. AS passed
into the hotel the clerk called out:
'Snowdon. No. 17s? There's some
one waiting for you in your room
Simpsons man with the papers,
said to myself as hurried up the steps
'When opened my door was face
to face with Clara Ames.
"'God! Clara, what brings you hereT
'"That's what 1 said. and waE trem-
bling all over. Clara let her brown
eyes into mine for o moment; then
she crossed the room, closed and locked
the door, and facing me. said:
"I'm going away from Colorado;
going away tonight, and with you
"'No, no, Clara cried. You don't
know what you are saying
I do, exactly. Ames hasn't drawn
sober breath since Jessie died. You
are all have left. I'm-1'm a woman,
not an angel. It's go with you, or
this And drawing q revolver from
her dress she tapped nervously on the
barrel. tried TO speak, but she pulled
me up.
"I've done with Ames; done with
some other things Don't drive me
to this and once more her white
fingers toyed with the shooter.
"'Be at the railroad station tonight
ut eight o'clock; we must not be seen
together in Denver.' That was my
answer, Howard. When the woman
you love gives you such q choice, by
God, she doesn't give you any choice.
Isn't that so?"
He did not give me time to answer
this question, but ron On:
That night we left Denver toge ther;
both very quiet, both very happy; aft
er the first plunge 1t didn't seem bit
strange. Queer, wasn't it2
''There's not much to tell about our
journey, except that soon discovered
I'D have got along badly without Clara,
for had'never been east of Denver in
my life and was child at travelling;
Clara. 1t seemed. had been everywhere.
And she was so happy, Howard. When
we had placed a couple of days be-
tween us and Pleasant Valley she be-
gan to talk about herself; tell me
about her life before we met. Her
mother died when she was O baby;
two old maids had reared her. These
old girls had lots of money, and Ames
ha1 Il