The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-07-17

dropped on the sand, slipped his arm
around her waist and was giving her
an old fashioned hug.
THAT the young woman took kindly llid1l! Y
to this embrace was quickly proved,
for herr head dropped against Ned
Moore sa$shoulder, and III little hand
strpked This yellow and black coat
sleeve. sMoreoveraAthe young #w oman al
murmured loud enough to be heard
above the rush st the surf: '''sT''
Yes, darlingI,
Ned Moore could plainly hear his
heart beating, but he couldn't, to save
his life, get a grip on words. So he
Rugged the girl again. She seemed to
i read the: right meaninglin his silence,
however, for. she whispered: aEs!4"'
81" Such9fa heavenly night. isn't 1t,
sweetheart ?Y1 a3sg.7i :9a:: ~ sa1l;H
T. Unjust say something thought Ned
: Moore, and he was on the point Of
speaking when another man spoke for
him; 4.a :ssdige. t. ig ~
''Well, Pm darned!"f Sis
And when Ned Moore looked up he
saw facing him q man about his own
size and build-a man whose face was
livid with passion, The intruder didn't
give; Ned long to think, however, for
he burst out: -al, ,ag5 ar. III
What is this. Nell? What in thun-
DER 1a~s.i 49, a.- "A.
BE got no further, for, with shrek,
the young woman sprang away from
Ned Moore. When she faced him, she
looked an enraged tigress. She was
too angry for words. @
ANSWER me, Nell--answerY a.s..ts
ooh, it's all a mistake-a dreadful
mistaken cried the young woman. 1
Mistake? \, Nonsense!'' -s-si.af
mo, truth, jack and the pretty.
tear stained face was lifted toward the
angry man. II was sitting here" she
ran on, her voice. tremulous, waiting
for you, and had just dreamed my
way back to last summer and was, oh,
so happy, living over those dear, sweet
days. when somebody so like you,
passed between me and the sea, fitting
in, foh, so true, with my sweet dream!
Then an arm stole; around me-the
same old yellow and black coat sleeve,
and"- 4{4 ..s...!; {; ,s5:i:51i
Why, bless my SOUL" cut in the an
CRY lover, .eying Ned Moore intently,
you've got on my old counting rig!
see it all now. Nell. dear, don't say an
other word. It's all my fault. I'D no
business to sell that dear old counting
coat. 1t was rank sacrilege!w
For an awful moment Ned Moore had
been trying to settle in his own mind
whether he was dreaming. To find he
was not lifted a great weight from
his mind, and he joined his new &C.
quaintances in a hearty laugh. Then
he said: f#s z -
"And you forgive me, then, both OF
your"
why, of course we d." cried Jack
and Nell, and then Jack continued:
Its my skittish black and tan court
ing coat that played the deuce with
both of you. How did you get hold Of
it?', a 4 9 III 49, ;5
Bought it secondhand but I'll make
YOU a present of the whole outfit as
soon as l get back to my own modest
clothes. Honest, haven't known my
self sinceI put the wild rig on" H
Jack said he didn't want the coat, but
his sweetheart timidly remarked:
yes; take it from. him, Jack. You
must. I'll never eelquite sure Of my
self while that coat belongs to another
man." .t4 IA
Ned Moore found something more
than health at the seashore-found his
heart. And he returned to New York
new man. Something, time soon testi-
fed had opened bachelor eyes to the
loneliness of woman, the loneliness of
bachelor life, for in six months he mar
ried-married and settled down to hard
work and home life. But for reasons
the nature of which he did not explain
to his little wife he never parted with
his own counting coat even when it's
days of active service had Departed
Chicago Times Herald. .sst