The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1903-12-10
CHAPTER xy,,.-con,,rued.


widdie arose, and. as was his habit,
returned to the houre up the road to
see to his patients condition. ana
found that Johnson had slept through
the night scarcely stirring. still as
baby. Things were going well to help
on his recovery; and though II would
be months before he could be able To
get around. yet there was every hope
and every reason to expect MIN 10
recover
Johnson moved and opened his eyes
slowly as DR.. Dunwiddie entered the
room. Vacant, hollow eyes they were,
with stare in them which startled
Dolores.
Dr. Dunwiddic was at his side In
stantly. but without a sign OF haste.
lie Is used TO your voice" he SAID
to Dolores, without turning his head.
speak To him, Miss Johnson. say
anything to him-anything you are In
the habit OF saying"
Dolores came no nearer the bed;
she stood quietly at the window, ana
asked In her ordinary voice, slow, un'
Interested: Are you ready for break
fast. father"
The hollow eyes closed weakly for
n moment Mrs. Alien entered at that
moment with the beef tea, and Do
lores, taking the bowl from her hand,
crossed over To the bedside. John.
son again opened his eyes with the
old expression of dstrust and dislike
In them. She bent over him. and DR..
Dunwiddie raised his head a trifie
gently on his arm as she put the spoon
to his lips with steady hand and un'
moved face. But when she offered
him the second spoonful he closed his
eyes and endeavored to turn aside his
his face. Dolores bent over the bed
and held the spoon steadily To his
lips, as che said in tone that thrilled
bar listeners by its slow, almost stern
sweetness:
Drink this, father"
He obeyed like u child, and she fed
him carefully according to the doc
tors orders. DR.. Dunwiddie watched
her movements wonderingly. Where
did this girl get her womanly tact?
Surely not from this man upon the
pillows, whose face was indicative of
nothing but a brute nature.
| II was an exquisite morning. Mrs.
Allen was with the doctor. there was
no need Of her there. and she went
out and sat on the door.stone In the
shadow of the pines. Leaning her
head against the door-post her hands
fell to her lap. Her eyes were intent
on the mountain with a sort Of hun
CRY look in them. II had meddled so
with her life--or was Il the fate of the
stars that crippled her father and pre-
vented his going to court where the
men we're eager to have him. like the
vulture on the mountain. She knew
little OF fate or law. but II seemed Ia
her that the one possessed her. and
the other was waiting, waiting In q
terrible silence Tor her father To 80
to prove the malice prepcnse In the
larling of the mare-a waiting that
appalled, her by It's dogged patience.
What her nelghbors thought she did
not care; she had lived without them
she could still live without them. Had
she known how roughly they used her
name she would scarcely have under
stood their meaning. Her mind was
too pure and too high above them Ia
comprehend the evil they would lay
at her door. LOdie. among them all
was the only kind one. Not one of Tho
woman had been near her, but tn,
women never did come; she cared
nothing about that. only there wal
something In her life that had moi
been there before and that called fol
companionshlp for the sympathy o
other women. But Dora would come
she thought, with sudden brightness
in her heart--Dora and her uncle. all,
young Green as well. until--until the
truth were known. Then, what woul,
they think or say--Dora and he
uncle. who were honorable people, th'
nurse said, and young Green who ha'
been so kind to them--so kind? Di'
he not risk his life for her father
Yet even then he must have know
about the mare and by whom the dce'
was done. Did he not tell her himsel
that The man who had commltte,
such n dastardly deed should suffe
the full penalty Of the law? And tn
law had n terrible Significance to hei
Lodle came slouching up the path
tan, gaunt, angular, In the full glor