The San Francisco call., 1904-07-24
A~ HERE aren't any heroes now
adays-hence my own cell
bacy."
Nell was nineteen. Il want

So adays-hence my own cell
bacy."
Nell was nineteen. Il want
a real man, one that can do things!
This with lofty scorn and curl OF
her red lips as she thrummed her gui-
tar in the light of the campfire. There
had been a light scud Of snow during
the day. and the air was chill, though
it was August; but Yellowstone Park is
no respecter of calendars.
L can do one thing-love the most
tantalizing little witch that ever walk
ed all over mans heart
Jack Stanley. sprawled on the thick
carpet of pine needles at her feet,
glanced up half pleadingly, half quiz
zically into the pouting face Of the
small autocrat Of the camp why
won't you marry me? Your father
wishes it. I have enough"
yes. / know" she interrupted hasti-
". You have all the ordinary require
ments-wealtn. position, good looks.
family" checking them off with her
pink fingers. And suppose a reason
able amount of brains-though in our
way of living they are needed so little
that" she paused suggestively.
well. then, what's the trouble? You
haven't yet said the only thing that
will send me away like the other fell
lows-tnat you don't love me-dear-
As for the hero business, and all that
rot"
1T isn't rot," exclaimed Nell in
dignantly Il know you think me
schoolgirI-sentiment not It's
just this-you men. when you aren't
impossible, are all so much alike these
days-I can't differentiate. You're
like your ugly black clothes-all cut
by the same pattern and apparently
from the same cloth. How can a
woman single out one above all others
to love and to cling to in sickness and
in health
It'll death US do part. ," he fin
ished low.
why don't you do something to
make me love you? I want to.
can'tr" She stamped her little noun
tain-climbing boot hotly. I'VE don't
get at the realness of life-a true,
primitive instinct is unknown to US
all. Even our pretended roughing it
for the novelty of the thing is an ar
tificiaI sham. We come in a special
train; our tents are filed with hair
mattresses, down quilts and Navajos.
You must have a French valet to dress
you each morning in that brave khaki
suit of yours, which never saw real
service and never will! My tailored
short skirt came from Paris and Is
silk lined. Do you know my grand
father went over that old Mormon
trail down yonder to the south with
an OK team? And my grandmother
walked beside it most OF the wayi
I'd like to marry real pioneer. true
history maker. That's the kind Of
man I could love! He'd be a hero to
me, if he didn't have a dollar and had
never heard of the twostepl''
Nell held her flushed cheeks and
shining eyes for one intoxicating in
slant up close to his own; then turned
like a fash and ran back among the
white cleaning tents to her own lux
urious quarters, where a sleepy maid
waited her coming.
The man picked up her guitar and
held 1t lovingly like child in his
arms. 1t was hers, and he loved IL
for her sake. He knew he could feel
all the primitive instincts"-the long
ing for wife and child and the warmth
of home-fire instead OF the cold
splendor of his club-but how to make
Nell see it and respond to it?
Long he sat there by the ashening
embers. while the tall, stately pines
tossed their fragrant censers and in
toned their mournfuI chant above, and
the cold moon lit up. one by one, the
ghostly pillars of steam which rose
day and night from the geysers and
vent-holes in the Fire Hole Basin
below
A huge, black bulk came numbering
from the deep shadows back OF the
camp and skulked near the commits
sary tent, whence presently rose a
sound of falling tinware and the OBJ
jurgations of the French chef, s
Bruin ambled away with paws and
jaws sticking full of the toothsome
contents of the butter tub.
AS Bruins sticky footballs padded
heavily down the slope. a slow grin
overspread Jack Stanley's face He
stood up and blew an airy kiss TO the
smiling moon