The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1904-03-18

Franklin wheeled the team sharply
about toward the house, which was
indeed becoming indistinct In the fall
ing twilight. AS the vehicle turned
about, the crunching of the wheels
started a great gray prairie owl, which
and tapped slowly off. The appari-
ton set the wild black horse into
sudden stimulation of terror, as though
he had never before seen an owl upon
the prairies. Rearing and plunging,
he tore loose the hook Of one of the
singletrees, and in flash stood half
free, at right angles now to the We
hicle instead of at its front, and strug-
Cling to break loose from the neck
| yoke. In a flash Franklin saw that
he was confronted with an ugly acct
dent. He chose the only possible
course, but handled the situation in
the best possible way. With a sharp
cut of the whip he drove the attached
horse down upon the one that was
half free, and started the two off at
wild race down the steep coulee,
into what seemed sheer blackness and
immediate disaster. In some way,
stumbling and bounding and lurching,
both horses and vehicle kept upright
all the way down the steep descent, a
thing which to Franklin later seemed
fairly miraculous. At the very foot
of the pitch the black horse fell, the
buggy running full over him as he lay
lashing out. From this confusion, In
some way never quite plain to him
self, Franklin caught the girl out in
his arms, and the next moment was
at the head of the struggling horses.
And so good had been his training
at such matters that it was not with
out method that he proceeded to quiet
the team and to set again in partial
order the wreck that had been Gre |
ated in the gear. In time he had the |
team again in harness, and at the |
bottom of the coulee, where the |
ground sloped easily down into the
open valley, whence they might
emerge at the lower level of the
prairie round about. He led the team
for a distance down this floor OF the
coulee, until he could see the better
going in the improving light which
greeted them as they came out from
the gullylike defile. He did not like
to- admit to his companion how great
had been the actual danger just in
Cured, though fortunately escaped.
Franklin was Inundated and ashamed,
as a man always Is over an accident.
ooh. it's no good saying I'm SORRY"
he broke out at last. 1T was my
fault, letting you ride behind that
brute. Thank God, you're not hurt!
I'm always doing some unfortunate,
ignoble thing"
ut wasn't ignoble," said the girl,
and again he felt her hand upon his
arm. ut was grand. You went
straight, and you brought US through.
I'm not hurt. l was frightened, but l
am not hurt"
You've pluck" said Franklin. Then,
scorning to urge anything further Of
his suit at this time of her disadvan-
tage, though feeling a strange new
sense of nearness TO her. now that
they had seen this distress in com
mon, he drove home rapidly as he
might through the gathering dusk,
anxious now only for her comfort. At
the house he lifted her from the bug
gy, and as he did so kissed her
cheek Dear little woman" he whis-
pered, goodbye" Again he doubted
whether he had heard or not the soft
whisper Of faint "Good-bye!"
But you must come in." she said.
mo, must go. Make my excuses"
he said. "Geod-bye!" The horses
sprang sharply forward. He was
gone.
In her own little room Mary Ellen
sat, her face where 1t might have been
seen in profile had there been light
or had the distant driver looked round
to see. Mary Ellen listened-lfstened
until she could hear hoof and wheel
no more. Then she cast herself upon
the bed, face downward, and lay mo-
tionless and silent. Upon the little
dresser lay a faded photograph, fallen
forward also upon its face, lying IN.
noticed and apparently forgot.
ITO he cOntinued)