Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1902-01-23

valentine leaned back In his chair,
showed his hands into his trousers
pockets and contemplated. with a sud-
denly awakened savageness. the unfin-
ished letter before him.
Again and again he read the care
fully written lines, the frown on his
face deepening with each perusal. One
sentence particularly displeased him.
Looking back with a judgment So
bered by the intervening three years,
this sentence ran, Il realize that my
impetuosity misconstrued your display
of just Indignation at my unfounded
charge Of duplicity. and that my tenn
per. always too hasty. forced Ey lying
lips to utter those foolish and heart
less words of farewell-words ! would
give my soul, almost, to recall.
For the twentieth time Valentine
read that sentence over. Then ne
drew the point of his stubby pencil
through the words and jumped TO ms
feet. For many moments he paced the
floor OF his cabin, his eyes cast down,
his lips compressed, his hands In MS
pockets.
And finally he paused at the table
and again read the letter slowly, care
fully. Then he laid his broad. brown
hand upon the sheet, and hesitated'
looking out the door at the gathering
dusk and thinking. thinking, thinking.
Suddenly his hand closed angrily
upon the paper. crumpling, crushing
II between his fingers. Silently ne
scowled at the wall the letter clutched
in his tightly closed fist, steely git
ter in his cold, gray eyes. Then the
paper dropped to the floor. and walk
ing to the door, the man gazed meoi-
tatively across the plain.
And after awhile he CROPPED his way
back into his cabin until he came 10
the table. Then he struck match
and searched upon the floor until he
found the letter he had written. Pick
ing IL up by a corner, he touched the
burning match to it and held it be-
tween his fingers until the flame al
most licked his hand; then he dropped
II and watched it burn-vatched II,
until it was all consumed.
Never" he cried aloud, again
pacing the cabin floor. mo, by HI
I'll never write her. I'll die right here
before I'll let her hear from me again.
ote in a gulch
What II IL is lonely here In this
ID country; what II do go loco
who in HI cares? She? Ha! ha!
Why, she-she'd laugh II she knew
was as crazy as a thirst-maddened
bronco-she'd laugh and lake her
yellow curls and go dancing away with
some of those Rock Lick fellows.
Il loved her-God knows loved her.
Who wouldn't love her? Who doesn't
love the sunshine and the blue sky
and the wild birds? Everybod..' loves
those things, and she is all OF them
together Nina is-all of them: the
sunshine and the blue sky and the
wild birds. But she's dirt, and
and-d-n her!
Write to her? ] write to her? Ha!
ha No! No, say. I'll go out there
on the prairie and let the id coy
otes gnaw at my worthless old carcass
before I'll write to her. ! told her
when ] left that ! would never let her
know where ] was, and | won't-so
help me God, won't. I'll stay right
here in this Godforsaken country and
turn into a dog-eating Indian before
I'll write to her. hate her-God,
how hate her,-and | never want to
see her again-never!
He gritted his teeth and clinched his
fists In his rage and his slow pacing
increased to a savage stride, and sud
denly he took his hat from a peg and
dashed out into the night.
When the two red-eyed engines came
together on the curve. awful was the
crash. For miles around the impact
shook the earth like the rumbling of
q volcano, and the cattlemen, awak-
ened, dashed out of their cabins into
F7@a ~