Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1904-11-03
ously up the stream ahead of the rising

and almost instantly the water was
beaten into whitecaps, and the little
shell bobbed like a cork, but l held it
straight ahead and watched it with the
instinct of one trained to the paddle
And then the rain came!
AS l rounded bend in the channel
saw them. They were huddled under
heavy pine near the waters edge
The waves were trying to drag the ca
noe away from the bank, and Blakes-
lee, the picture of woe, was struggling
to get it ashore
ran my canoe close in and sprang
upon the bank before they saw me. 1t
was growing dark, what with the
storm and the lateness of the hour.
Miss Milwood turned and gave glad
cry.
"Oh, jack" she said piteously, I'm
so glad! We've been unable to get
home! Our canoe was beaten back by
the storm, and it upset and we were
thrown into the water, and it was
mercy it was near the shore, else we'd
have drowned"'
"How DID you escape?" 1 asked
stiff1y.
We've waded! And I'm chilling tc
death, Jack" Her lips We're blue with
cold, and she shiyered miserably. Poor
Blakeslee was In no better plight
l FASTENED to right the other canoe
with Blakeslee's help. Then I put the
luckless boatman aboard, padded him
across to the mainland and babe him
sprint for the hotel and get roaring
fire ready. then recrossed the river,
lifted the terrified girl into the large
canoe, tied the other behind and set out
In the teeth Of the storm. Doggedfy
and steadily. keeping as much as posst-
BILE in the lea Of the shore, we crept
down the angry sheet of water. Miss
Milwood, strangely quiet, huddled In
the bottom Of the canoe and said not
word. But could hear her teeth
chattering and felt love and pity
struggling hard with my new resolu-
ton to be grimly firm and uncompro-
missing.
My muscles were aching and my
heart throbbing as though it would
burst when at last we drew into Inc
shelter of the boathouse. fastened
the canoes and lifted the wet figure
ashore. .
"Oh, Jack" she quavered, 81 should
have died if you hadn't
II beg you won't mention 1t, Miss
Milwood," 1 said with exaggerated po-
likeness. 1t was mean thing to say. I
realized it at the time, but it was nee
essary If was to crush the fierce long
ing to take her in my arms.
hurried her up to the hotel. From
time to time she pushed back her wet
hair and gazed at me with pathetic
usefulness which affected not to see.
The storm had blown swiftly away,
and the big white moon was sailing
through the sky dotted with scudding
cloud drift
l resigned her to the care Of the So
licitous Mrs. Kerens, who was all
| sympathy and busting motherliness.
Blakeslee was there in an agony Of con-
clothing and sat down within the half
lighted library, gloomily watching the
| pine logs in the wide fireplace.
| After about an hour timid hand
parted the curtains, and knew with
out turning my head who it was. She
came in slowly
Jack" she said TREMENDOUSLY.
sprang to my feet and offered her a
chair. She refused to notice it. She
to notice them.
Jack she whispered, "are you an
gry?'
Not at all, Miss Milwood" l rejoin-
| ed, still excessively polite and proper.
II am merely going to reform"
| She knew.
For a moment she stood silent with
her head bent down. stood gazing
over her head with eyes which dared
not look for a moment at hers, else all
were lost Then heard her sob.
TT was bad day for butterflies" I
muttered huskily.
She glanced up, and saw her eyes
filed with tears. This butterfly is
tired, Jack-dear Jackv' she whispered
ut doesn't want to fyv'
"Never-for always?"
| "Never-for always"
| It was good-all that wretchedness
and anxiety Of long months, when she
lay tight against my breast and kiss
ed the perverse red Hps-meek now and
sweetly submissive. Perverse no more,
for the butterfly was caught!
Once Famous City.
| Caerleon Of Roman times and of the
days Of King Arthur still exists. The