The Savannah morning news., 1903-07-12

|
like at the dance tonight, they want
somebody they can have their sort of
fun with. You are too good for them.
That is very theoretical"
1T is very true.
And supposing. just supposing, it
were. You want me TO lie down and
quit without making fight. Do you
call that being game? What would you
think Of a man who would run away
because the other man was little
stronger? Don't YOU think I'd f1ght?'
That's just it. You'd fight too well.
Il don't"
She has ways of drawing men to
her which you know nothing about
| They are her weapons l know you d
fight You'd fight to the last because
1t is in you to. and I'm afraid, very
much afraid, that when YOU found
your weapons were not enough you'd
use hers"
There fell between them a long ST
lence, while Molly slowly pondered
| these last words and gradually appre-
! hended their meaning. In the darkness
she could feel the blood tingleing her
| face, forehead, and neck. At first she
was inclined to be angry, and to show
il. but the mans evident sincerity
coupled with the fervor of his Incl
dental declaration of love, softened
| her.
QOn NeIOVe ever. ndQ anybody
tell me such things before" she could
not restrain herself from saying, and
l don't know whether I ought to thank
you for your lack of trust in me. How
ever you'll be there, and l can rely
on your protection against these awful
dangers"
Il will not be there" contradicted
| Graham bluntly.
well. then, there's Harry" She said
the name out of bravado to show that
there was no reason why she should
not say it.
Yes" cried Graham. with a burst
of anger that astonished her. "It is he
| l mean"
1t was the red flag to them both, the
idea of this man. Il think you'd better
| go now" she replied coldly.
Graham turned away with a little
| curse.
She sat down again and tried des-
| perately to regain her confidence of a
| few moments before, but it would not
come. She was angry and insulted, and
she was veXed at herself that she could
not throw off the uneasiness which lay
behind these emotions; but she could
not. 1t grew on her as her nervousness
| increased. She sat staring straight be-
| fore her into the dark, clasping and
unclasping her hands and striving
with all the earnestness of which she
| was capable to seize and formulate the
vague fear that seemed unreasonably
to weigh on her spirits. Analyze it as
she would, she could find no adequate
reason for it. 1t was therefore the more
terrible. The dinner hour passed quite
unnoticed The nervousness increased
until she could have shrieked aloud.
And then with sudden start she recog-
niZed it-this old formless causeless
sense of an indefinite guilt, as for some
thing left undone; the voice, although
this she did not know, of her inherited
New England conscience.
At the discovery she rebelled. She
had always rebelled, and heretofore
she had succeeded in putting it down,
in sitting it underneath mere surface
moods. But now the surface moods
proved inadequate. The uneasy guilt
ness increased until it almost over
flowed in tears. Molly was afraid, Just
as a child is afraid of the dark
She lit the lamps and looked at her
self in the mirror. This must not go
on. Tonight, the one night when she
needed all her powers it was foolish
to allow a within to weaken them. She
shook her head at herself and smiled
The smile was not a success She
| turned away YEARLY and thrust her
hands through her hair. Why had Ora
ham taken it into his head to bother
her this one evening of all others? II
was his fault. She stamped her foot
angrily. All his fault. In spite of his
denial, she believed he would be there
and would see everything. The thought
stung her pride and the desire for tears
left her. She would show him lust how
much his advice and his fears were
worth. On the impulse she spread her
white dress out on the bed, and be-
| gan hastily to smooth out the wriI1-
kles in its pleats. After a moment she
turned decisively to the mirror, and
began to take down her hair.
Xxx.
ANCESTRAL VOICES,
Archibald Nudge, alias Frosty,
dressed in clean white apron, stood
behind the bar and surveyed his han
| diwork with satisfaction. 1t had gone
well, and for this one day his master
had been in an unwontedly good hui
NOR.
Directly opposite, a wide door opened
into the new dance hall. From where
Frosty stood one could see that it was
a long low room, f1ag-draped, with few
windows, and furnished only by an un-
broken line of benches against the
wall. One standing in the doorway
however, could have perceived that al
one end were placed for the musicians
a number of tall lookout" stools-tal
in order that the performers might al
once overlook the performance of the
square-dance figures" and early pre-
pare to avoid possible hostilities. A
! number of large lamps with refectors
} illuminated the apartment with cross
ed shafts of light.
; Frosty polished glasses in anticipa-
ton of the evenings business, which
: would be lively. glancing complacent
ly from the fresh-scrubbed floor to the
lately renewed sheets, initiating plas-
ter AS the outer door was now closed
he was relieved from the necessity o.
, ejecting Peter. It did no good to tie
! Peter up; either the animal was in
genious at escapes. or the men were
mischievous in their desire to bother
Frosty. This was one of Frostys many
, troubles He led life of care.
After little, the door opened, ano
three men came in. They steered tc
the bar at once, as a sort of familiar
: haven in strange surroundings. From
, its anchorage they took their initia
view of the hall. After subsequent ar
, rivals had braced them to the point o
confidence, they made a first awful tour
of that apartment, but soon returned
to more familiar surroundings. The sa,
loon filled with a heterogeneous gath
ering. All types were there in their bes
clothes. from the spotlessly immacu
late faro dealer. dressed in a blacl
broadcloth frock coat. to Dave Kelly
/, with his new red handkerchief and hi
! high-heeled boots. The main gathering
! | remained crowded in the saloon
whence small groups occasionally ven
| tured into the hall but only for tn,