Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1900-05-25

erudpS, 0rylys OuC q man must
work with his head or his hands. 1t isn't
every II who gets the chance to choose"
The following day Mark Barriston UNI
packed his books and set himself to study
furiously. But how might one study
books when day by day nature turned
over n fresher and still more enchanting
page of her WI inimitable volume? But.
it was not wholly the charms of nature
which made Mark Barriston change his
mind about accepting n temporary resi-
dence on the farm in the North belonging
to his father. 1t was quite casually he
learned that this farm which his father
had but lately purchased was near an
other belonging to and occupied by Ed
ward Thorn.
He told himself he would not attempt
to see Della, but it must be admitted it
was a little difficult to avoid doing so
when he was obliged to pass her home
every time he went to or returned from
town. Thu romance was nm innocent one
and as sweet as it was innocent. RAM
bles along the creck--a search for the
latest fiowers--thc s%tcadyins clasp of IL
hand in abrupt descent or ascent-the
discovery of mutual tastes-snatches of
song-the tiutter of her sash ribbon
against his hand-silences embarrassing
but delicious. nnd-that was all.
Only Edward Thorn used to remark to
his wife that really that girl was growing
too pretty to he useful. and the man on
John BarristOn's north farm averretl he
never seen that kind of n farmer afOre."
1t was he who blunlcringly precipitated
the climax of the situation. He had rid
den over to John Barriston's relative to Il
shipment of cattle.
You'd better 90 through to Chicago
with the stock, Dam" his master said.
My son can attend to things until you
get back"
He a if he takes time enough from
pickin' posics with Della Thorn"
What" screamed John Barriston.
What"
II didn't think. sir" Dan had shambled
up aghast. Il forgot the bad blood
atween-
Saddle my horsc-quick! This min
ute! Quick!
Five minutes later he was riding north
at breakneck speed.
Mark Glanced to meet Della at the
abandoned bridge down by the walnut
grove, when his father came tearing
along. But when that father dropped
from his sweating horse, so shaken was
he by passion-so racked by rage-he
could not utter one syllable.
"What-what is the matter?" Della
turned appealingly to Mark. She had
never been told of the enmity between the
houses.
"Nevcr mind-now. Go home,'' he said
in the tone of authority no man dare use
except to one woman. and she that one
to whom he is most madly enslaved, most
willingly subscrvient-she who holds his
life i'll her fingers as one may hold Il rose.
Stop cried John Barriston.
He burst ont into a storm of abuse of
his son-her father-herself! There was
no stemming the tide of his fury. 1t
came down i'll a sweeping flood-a parti-
ally incohcrent fury, it is true, but none
the less OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES Once
Mark strove to s~peak-twice. In vain,
Suddenly he turned-held out his hands
to the girl. He had never spoken one
word of love to her. He spoke none now.
But there was that in his eyes which no
woman needs words to interpret-a look
that, was at once Il surrender and Il de-
mand.
The old man saw the gesture-saw the
look. A silence fell upon him. Indeed.
there was no sound betwiXt earth and
sky just then I'VE his heavy breathing.
Mark put his arm around Della, drew
her to him. And he faced his father, not
irreverently, but fearlessly.
"She has done you no wrong. fathcr!.'
he cried, "she-nor 1. You said you would
curse me. If you must-curse us, We
can bear it better for sharing it,"
A~Dt, n, that .J,, -, H. ILL
the hill, John Barriston lifted his hand
aloft.
A little. futtering cry broke from the
girl.
"Papa-hcre is papa"
And there, indeed, stood Edward
Thorn.
He saw the young people. He saw the
gaunt old form towering before them. He
saw tine hand uplifted in wordless male
diction.
They heard one wild word-saw Mark
Barriston spring forward. Then the old
man, tottering down, was caught in the
strong arms of his son and lowered to
the ground. His face was purple. His
teeth were clinched. There was ~ foam
ON his lips.
Although Ba-riston was borne at once
to his sons bed, although the physician
drove over in hot haste, and all was done
that could be done. it was many months
before a CLEAN of consciousness irradiat-
cd his countenance-bcfore he gazcd in
diligently into the faces which came and
went Mt his bedside. DELLA was sitting
with him one radiant January day. Her
right hand held a book. She felt a touch
upon the left which rested OH his coverlid
ii carcssing touch.
"A pretty hand" she heard a voice
murmur. annie lad pretty hands. An
nic-" The murmurous sound trailcd
off into silence. And he slept.
In March John Barriston was moved
back to his old home. He was wasted,
frail. patient to the point of pathos. He
heard all his son had to say on business
matters. gave replies that were clear and
logical, but left to Mark every arrange
ment-every decision. In April, when the
lilac trees in the front garden were puI-
pie and fragrant, he went out for the first
time. Mark drove him. Neither spoke
OF the winter ~pnsscd-nor of what had
led up 10 his seizure. In May lie was
able to sit out on the front porcl-his one
| book on his knee. ON tho MORNING of