The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1899-04-15


said to himself.
His gentle persistence had its reward,
and after awhile they had become so
far friends that Brannigan hazarded a
new departure.
do you liver go out Sunday avenins?"
he inquired one fine Saturday.
Sunday afternoons 1 do" Alma
amended.
SITS great out in the park"
"Ive heard it was nice"
I'D be proud if ye'd ride out Their.
with me tomorry?"
Alma's delicate color deepened. She
gazed fixedly at the handle of the door.
Lets say three o'clock"
| "Pm not through my work till four"
twas the came thing as an assent.
'I'll call for We at four!" He went off
beaming, but her voice made him turn
back in sudden panic.
Don't call for me-" she said, in low,
hesitating tone; you'd rather you
wouldn't. Maybe I'll be at the corner
at four"
The ride out on the open car was very
pleasant. Alma enjoyed every bit of it,
though she asked herself frequently
what was she about.
Brannigan was not interpretive; be.
sides, he knew what he was about per
fectly. He paid Alma's fares with an
authority she dared not gainsay, and
sat with his arm on the back Of The
seat behind her.
His heart swelled; he almost wished
some man would do something for
which he could knock him down. He
had the primitive instincts of the tribal
lover; he wanted to show his strength
to the woman he desired, and to have
her know that strength would always
stand between ner and danger
This feeling increased as time went
on, and he saw more and more clearly
that Alma was unhappy at home. Her
eyes were often red. She complained OF
headache, and on being pressed con-
fessed that "the boys were tiresome."
One afternoon a strange man came
with the ice.
"Tim Brannigan's hurt" he ex.
planned. 1t appeared that Brannigan
had been at fire, and rushing out of
the burning tenement with forgotten
baby, had broken his leg. He was in the
city hospital.
The next day Alma dressed herself
with care in the blue gown Brannigan
liked, and the Sunday hat with it's soar
ing plumes and outspreading ribbons,
and started for the hospital
When Brannigan saw Alma enter the
ward his face was irradiated with Joy.
And yet, when she reached the bedside
he was lying very still, with closed eyes
OR, with eyes that seemed to be closed
"Ah, an is it your" he asked, family,
feigning languid awakening. "'Tis
good of We to come, but I'm that wake
l can scarcely take it in!"
20, but you'll soon be better, Mr.
Brannigan!" she said, struggling not
to cry.
"Ah, an do We think SOP" he asked,
feebly.
Alma looked down at his splendid,
proportions in perfect seriousness.
do you feel pain anywhere?" she
asked, fearfully.
"Ahful, just herei" said Brannigan.
laying muscular hand upon the car
diac region.
Not muscle of her face changed, as |
he saw through his half-shut eyes. A |
ripple of laughter passed over him, and
he bit his lips under the long, tawny
inustache. And while he laughed, he
could have fallen at her feet-she was
so adorably innocent!
Alma saw and wholly misinterpreted
the tremor which shook him.
Are you cold?" she inquired, anx.
iously. She knew that it was a bad
sign to feel cold in serious illness.
''Froze Quit" said Brannigan, in
choked voice, another and more violent
tremor convulsing him.
Don't they give you anything for
chill?" she asked.
"They can't give me nothin'," he
" 'twouldn't do no good!"
Poor Alma began to cry. She did not
know people never died of broken
eg; and with Brannigan's young
and health it was inexplicable.
But, certainly, he was near his end.
Reckless of observation, she bent her
face to his and kissed him.
And then strange thing happened,
Tor the helpless sufferer revived, re-
turned her farewell salute with inter-
,st, and held the girl close in clasp OF
astonishing vigor.
20, my! Mr.. Brannigan, aren't you
ashamed? And me thinking you that
III" gasped Alma.
i niver told We there was anything
wrong wild me arms!"-he cried. "An'
was just sufferin' for kiss, dear.
fe've niver let me have one till now! Che