The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1903-10-23

arose with the comb in her hand, her
hair falling around her, her eyes dark
as though tears were in them, her
lips shut close. AS she turned her
ewes toward the bed she met full in
hers the weak gaze of her father.
Only for a moment, however, for the
ewes closed almost Immediately as
though the light hurt them, but in
that moment Dolores once more faced
his soul with hers
Once more her father opened his
eyes and looked first at the doctor,
then at her. At the doctors sugges-
ton she spoke to him.
Father" she said, slowly, that he
might understand. Father"
But the eyes resting on her face had
no CLEAN of pleasure at seeing her
there; rather it might be said there
was flash Of hatred there as in the
old days. Then they dropped again
and closed, and presently his breath
ing indicated that he slept
MSS Johnson" DR.. Dunwidde said,
by and by, as he sat by the window
eating the supper Mrs. Allen had
brought him. Il told you the other day
that it was possible your father would
not recover; do you remember"
She bowed her head in acquiescence
but did not speak.
MY dear Miss Johnson" the doc
tors voice was grave, but there was
ring in it, a hidden note that struck
her ear as unusual. MY dear Miss
Johnson, | believe | am safe in saying
that your father will sleep through
the night a natural, quiet slumber
without the aid of opiates, and if he
does he will recover. He will be lame
always; he will not have quite his old
strength, but he will live and be much
his old self again"
The grave, attentive face at the
head of the bed changed not at all,
though the drawn expression disap-
peared from around the mouth, and
the eyes were clear and level in their
gaze.
For a moment DIR. Dunwiddie was
uncertain whether or not the girl was
glad of the news. She gave no sign,
and said not word, but stood grave,
and stately, and womanly, with the
shadows of the night gathering
around her, stealing along the bed.
across the face of the sleeper and up
and up toward her face.
Suddenly they clutched at her
throat, tightening their hold, like iron
bands, ever contracting, growing
firmer, unyielding; thousand iron
hands were on her, thousand elfish
voices. shrill and wild and weird,
filled the corners of the room, the
house; filled the darkness, crowding
it upon her, till it seemed as though
she were suffocating, till it seemed as
though she would die. Loud and weird
and terrible they were to her, filling
her ears, shouting of the evil that had
come through hatred and malice, and
of what would follow upon so evil
deed. The hands were tightening their
hold. they were struggling one with
another for the mastery; a dozen
hands were torn from her throat only
to be instantly replaced by others
stronger and firmer She caught at
them, and struggled. she fought
against them, but she dared not cry
for help. This that she was suffering
no one must know; they would know
soon enough-every one.
The voices grew wilder about her;
they shouted in elfsh glee; their
words ran in together unmeaningly
except one OF two close to her ear.
that whispered, with deadly meaning:
when your father is well enough
to prove-to prove"
Then slowly she came out Of this