The Tupelo journal., 1903-03-20

THE bleak stretches of browning
L grass gave a tinge of sadness to
the Landscape, and the hum of innum-
cradle insects which had prolonged
the summer months well into the fall
were growing fainter and less ryth-
mic with the advancing season. The
crops had been garnered and the APP
proach of frost brought no terror
to the farmers, but in some indie
i scribable way it affected the nerves
OF the lonely woman standing before
her rude shack gazing toward the
setting sun. Somehow the autumn
had always brought a shade of sad
ness into her life. Even back in the
old New England ~days-before the
horrible nightmare had transformed
her life-she had experienced the
same feeling of depression.
Il guess it's because | hate to see
things dying" she explained to her
self to stitle back a rising rebellion
OF sorrow. The summer was short
enough back home, but out here ITS
all too short"
There was a dreary. hOmesick eX-
preston i'll the eyes,, and through the
struggling hair the bronzed forehead
showed little marks of premature
wrinkling. Dorothy Wellington in her
girlhood days had been termed
'comely," a word which just fell
short of calling her good-looking or
handsome. But with time and expe-
- Is. M -
Renee her features had grown harsh
er, and yet without blotting out a
certain sweet expression of resigna-
ton. Eternal longing for the impos-
sible, however, eats out the heart
and ambition of the strongest, and
Dorothy was daily finding her bur
den more uncomfortable.
sit isn't natural" she confessed to
herself many times. "I'd rather give
up all and go back without a cent.
l could work and make a living. Not
in Dunbary, but somewhere else
anywhere except here"
1t was a strained and unnatural
position for a young girl to find her
self in, and nothing but a strong,
stern sense of duty could hold her
to the bargain another day. 1t was
not home on the bleak Oklahoma
plain. The very quarter section on
which they lived was in dispute. The
shack which they had built for tenn
porary quarters might not be their
own. Across the dead line" there
was another shack-a second blot on
the landscape. To one or the other
the quarter section belonged, but to
[, which none could say. The slow-mov-
ing courts would in time decide, but
for the present there was only an
armed truce, and neither side dared
venture on the property of the other.
Jared Wellington had left Dunbary
in the east to cast his lot in with the
early settlers of Oklahoma, and when
the rush began he had been among
the first to settle on a desirable
quarter section. But while he had
been busy stalking out the section,
another had filed a claim to the same
piece of land. There was a dispute,
which threatened to end in murder,
but Dorothy had been the means of
quieting the two combatants. They
agreed to let the courts settle the
claim, and meanwhile the two owners
built on the opposite sides of the
"dead line" which they drew exactly
through the center of the quarter
section.
That was three months ago, and
in the meantime Jared Wellington
and Henry Egerton had nursed their
wrath in silence while they planted
and gathered their first seasons
crops. Each bitterly envied the other
the crops which by right should be-
long to him. With alert eyes and
gun loaded for active service each
watched the other, determined to ex-
act the full pound of flesh demanded
in the agreement. Had accident or
sickness forced either over the dead
line" the other would unquestionably
have shot his enemy in his tracks the
moment he set foot on his property.
Such were the bitter conditions I'M
der which Dorothy had lived for three
months, hoping and praying that the
courts decision would shortly settle
the controversy, but never did the law
seem to lag more exasperatingly. Au-
tumn was changing the whole face
of the landscape and winter was APP
preaching with its long period of
gloomy weather, but the dead line"
and the Egerton shack in the dis
lance, continued to make life for
Dorothy and her. father bitter and
disagreeable.
Jared Wellington was as hard and
set in his ways as the New England
granite hills among which he had
been reared, and Dorothy knew his
nature too well to attempt to induce
him to compromise with his lonely
neighbor. Lonely Henry Egerton
seemed to be in his shack, for neither
wife, mother nor child appeared
around his home. Daily he had toiled
in the fields all summer, returning
to his rude home at night to prepare
his own supper, and smoke quietly
and solidarity near the door of his
shack until the noon vas darkened