The Kalispell bee. [volume] (Kalispell, Mont.) 1900-192?, 1901-12-14
The POStrniStreSS
Laurel Run.
by BRET HHRTH.
ospyslsAs. ~. b. the Author. Al Riohes nssssvsd
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER
The mail stage had just passed Laurel
Run. So rapidly that the whirling
cloud Of dust dragged with it down the
steep grade from the summit hung over
the level long after the stage had
vanished, and then, drifting away,
slowly sifted red precipitate over the
hot platform of the Laurel Run post
office.
Out of this cloud presently emerged
the neat figure Of the postmistress with
the mail bag which had been dexterous-
ly flung at her feet from the top of the
passing vehicle. A dozen loungers
eagerly stretched out their hands to as
sist her, but the warning: Its agin the
rules, boys. for any but her to touch it"
from bystander and a coqucttish
shake of the head from the postmistrcss
herself-much more effective than any
official interdict-withheld them. The
bag was not hcavy-Laurel Run was too
recent a settlement to have attracted
much orrespondence-and the young
woman, having pounced upon her prey
with a certain feline instinct, dragged
It, not without difficulty, behind the
partitioned Enclosure in the Office and
locked the door. Her pretty face, mo-
mentarily visible through the window,
was slightly flushed with the exertion,
and the loose ends of her fair hair. wet
with perspiration, curled themselves
over her forehead into tantalizing little
rings. But the window shutter was
quickly closed and this momentary but
charming vision withdrawn from the
waiting public.
''Gov'ment oughter have more sense
than to make a woman pick mail bags
outer the road" said 10 Summons. sym
pathetically. "Taint in her days
work, anyhow gov'ment oughter hand
'em over to her like lady; it's rich
enough and ugly enough"
"'Tain't government; it's that stage
company's airs and graces," interrupted
newcomer. '"rhey think it mighty
fine to go beltin by maxim everybody
take their dust just because stoppin'
amt in their contract. Why, il that
expressman who chucked down the
bag had any feelin's for a lady"-but he
stopped here at the amused faces of his
auditors.
Guess you don't know much O. that
expressman's feelin's, stranger" said
Simmons, grimly. "Why, you oughter
see him just nussin' that bag like a
baby as he comes tearin down the
grade and then rise up and sortcr hcavc
1t to Mrs. Baker ez If it was a fvcdollur
bokay. His feelin's for her? Why,
he's give himself so dead away to her
that we're looking for him to forget
what he's dom next and just come u
sailin' down hisself ut her feet"
Meanwhile, on the other side Of the
partition, Mrs. Baker had brushed the
red dust from the padlocked bag, and
removed what seemed to be sup
Elementary package attached to it by
wire. Opening it she found handsome
scent-bottle, evidently superadded
gift from the devoted expressman. This
she put aside with light smile and
the murmured word: "Foolishness,
But when she had unlocked the bag,
even its sacred interior was profancd by
u covert parcel from the adjacent post
master ut Burat Ridge, containing a
gold Specimen" brooch and some circus
tickets. 1t was laid aside with the
other. This also was vanity-and pre-
sumably-vcxation of spirit.
There were seventeen letters in all,
OF which five were for herself and yet
the proportion was small that morning
Two of them were marked Official
business" and were promptly put 10y
with feminine disccrnment; but in an
other compartment than that holding
the presents. Then the shutter was
opened and the task Of delivery com
menced.
1t was accompanied with a social
popularity that had in time become a
habit of Laurel Run. Al the young
woman delivered the lsttess In turn to
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