Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1902-07-09
A Game of
Chess X X
BY CHAUNCEY THOMAS


much. A fine physique, head and face
were his. Hers were equal. She was
small, dark, petite, winsome; just IS
He, large, light, powerful, was in al
senses man. In so years he had
won everything the world had to
yield except money and home
Forefathers many and great they
both had to spare.
1t was warm evening, tempered
by the mountain breeze drifting ur
the canyon. They sat, he and she, on
the lawn under the pines of her sum-
mer home in the Rockies. There was
moonlight; there were also shadows.
This was their last evening. In
love? Of course. The word she
hoped, yet feared, he would speak
froze on his lips or dissolved into
banter. He feared, was sure of, re-
fusal. Pride, too, kept him SILENT
the pride Of an empty pocket. mo
wife must love, honor and support
me-" he had confided to his brier.
The game was on.
"The whites are mine," he said, as
the ivories we've placed.
They seem fitting" Silence.
"Your move" demurely.
II wish it were yours" he rnuttered,
as he showed forward kings pawn
two places.
"Ah! But then. you see. I can
meet you halfway" and the blacl.
pawn faced the white.
you've made a speciality of that.
haven't you? Blocking. I meaa?"
"Oh. yes. How clear and calm it
is. But that does you good. Shows
what you are pawn or knight. Sir
Knight jumps over-you see?" and a
sable knight was archly advanced.
But if your knight can do that
safely, perhaps n bishop will be need
ed?' he ventured. as he placed his
queens bishop to try for the FOOLS
Checknate.
"How foolish!" she murmured, in
differently. "That's the ganlut
you've been playing all summer"
THANK you. won't say that it is
usual to employ methods according
to ones end. Now, if you were more
expert and experienced"
would you have me SOP"
NO."
The cool fencing of this girl foiled
his most subtle or his most furious
attacks. Those clear eyes surveyed
him calmly, then turned to the game.
He gazed at the top of that bent head
of s1lk-how white the scalp was!-
blank, dumb, hopeless, yearning, puz
zled, desperate. His emotions were
somewhat complex. Thus it had been
all summer. She knew just what ex-
preston was on his face, though her
eyes were on the men. Both were
above puns yet; like matador, she
used the terms of the game both as
a torment and shield
Silence and knitted brows fo1
awhile.
safely, did you say? He must risk
capture, you know" with sly smile
Evidently she had been bordering
his words. His hand trembled ever
so little as he touched the white
queen, then snatched it away as il
burned. Ugh! I've lost my
queen" The empress of the board
was apparently involved.
mot yet-but you may"
And for an instant the rich, brown
eyes rose to the steely gray, quailed
and dropped:
"I'm afraid that If"
"Afr-r-r-a-a-i-d!" The word wal
smothered in nameless contempt.
Stung, he shot his queen alone into
the very midst of the blacks. Calm
", she took it from the board.
"You see-I have you in a trap
You can't get out" with enticine
coyness.)
Don't want to. If it were of iror
it would not hurt; but being o.
go"
''That1l do; It's your move"
He writhed inwardly. She wa:
laughing at him:
"Now I have lost my queen" h
said, half angrily.
"Perhaps you may win better
one.''
"Do-yom -mean-that?
eyes," faintly; then in pretty con
fusion, "if you can win the game"
"What game?"
"This one, of course, you stupid
What other one is there?"
win the game with my quee'
pone!" he demanded, earnestly, still