Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1905-05-31


luts inspired him with less terror. He
beyed the imperious order.
Something was wrong. He could not
'uzzle 1t out. Something had put Mr..
Horace into one of his ways" and he
would as koon be out Of range Of his
lerce temper as not But IF the good
lord spared him to get home with
hem four-footed DEVILS" he was 60
ng right straight to his mistress and
make clean breast Of 1t.
On one Of her numerous trips to the
errace, Mona, restlessly watchful for
he coming of Rafs In time for her to
prepare him for Aline's advent. saw
he old man driving at a rate that
bespoke something wrong. Every drop
If blood had deserted her cheeks By
The time the old man was near enough
10 be questioned.
Where Is Mr.. Leyeridge. Munson?
Why are you driving the chestnuts? ?"
II left him back yonder at the cross.
roads, missus, and"
Doing what2"
JUST Walun, seemed Ike"
waiting for what7"
Il don't know. missus. This Door
old head Of mine Is all a-whirllng
with it The Lsveridge men-folks is
surely hard to keep up with. Mebbe
this will clear 1t up. l warnt to give
1t to you till rubbed the horses down.
but they can wait. l seem to feel
danger In my bones"
Mona seized the envelope he extend
ed. In another moment Horace's bit
ing words had scorched themselves
upon her brain. She made step for.
ward, stopped snd pressed her hands
over her eyes IN paroxysm of physical
terror. Could she do It? She must.
All bareheadsd and ungloved 40 she
was, she sprang into the drag and
gathered tho long reins in her slight.
unframed hands. Munson. who had
dismounted to deliver the note. sprapR
to the brutes' heads. and laid a detain-
Ing grasp on their brides.
"Missus, missus, what are you think
ing Of doing, They'll kill you, my
sweet mistress. They is all fretted out
with excitement now. Don't leave the
old man behind. missus."
'Stand aside-they Will trample Won
downv
She planted her little feet rigidly
against the dashboard. Her dinner
gown Of shimmering silk glistened In
the sunshine. She swayed with the
swift onrushing Of the chestnuts, about
whose ears she had laid the whip with
ignorant energy.
Doubtless they would kill her. She
rather expected 1t, but she must reach
the CROSSROADS nrst-before Rafe Still.
man got there.
Horace Leveridge. standing face to
face with the man whom he had pIti.
lessly insulted into an agreement to
settle the matters there and then, saw
a glittering spectacle advancing upon
them with the speed Of a well-aimed
arrow.
Mona's hair had escaped all bounds.
Like veil Of some yellow silken fab
ric it fell about her pallid face. The
sun shone full upon the glitterlng har-
ness, upon the tawny names of her
steeds, and upon the diamond pin she
had donned with her dinner costume.
They were all a-glitter. She stood up
in the drag to cry aloud
Horace. my husband, are you mad
stop! Let me explain"
AS she drew rein or tried to curb the
excited animals he cast bitter look
at her.
1.-The time for explanations has gone,
Mrs. Leveridge. Perhaps you may as
well witness the contamination of your
own work"
my work?"
He lifted his gun resolutely to his
shoulder. Stillman as resolutely
grounded his. Murder was about to
be committed before her eyes. With
a strenuous turn Of her delicate wrists,
which left them powerless for further
action, Mona brought the horses heads
about just in time to intercept tile bull
let aimed at stiilmnn's heart. 1t went
crashing through the back Of the vehi-
Gle. Leverldge had never once loosed
his touch upon tile trigger.
With wild shorts of terror the mad
dened chestnuts swerved and dashed
out of sight The reins fell from
Mona's helpless hands. She sank to
the bottom of the drag. Her destruc-
ton was matter of mere minutes.
Perhaps seconds. She felt strangely
Indifferent to everything. Only she
wanted not to suffer very long.
On, on, swifter, still faster, now
swinging her frail cradle clear of the
uneven ground; now laundering across
Il wooden bridge that gave back hollow
echoes to the iron-shod feet; now rush
Ing with smooth vehemence by the
side Of flower-fringed streamlet, the
chestMlts bore her forward to meet
her fate.
Rescue was impossible, and she
knew 1t. She opened her eyes and gaz-
ed heayenward, prayerfully. There
was SO much she would like to unuo II
she had time. She was not praying.
There was no time left for prayer. A
black winged bird In a turquoise sky
was the one object her falling senses
grasped.
How serenely II scared on broad,
slow wings, far, far above the turbn-
lent world she was Fastening olt Of.
Would those brutes never exhaust
their demoniacal strength? Would Hor-
ace suffer very keen remorse when lie
came to learn how things really stood
Perhaps. after all, she was escaping
long, weary years Of hopeless strug-
gle to adjust the unadjustable. How
little 1t all mattered now7 How far
away. how small, how unreal the
worlll, trouble, hope, disappointment.
1t was something like getting to the
end Of a tiresome story which present
~ she would forget all about.
The chestnuts paused for a second
ON the brook side. A violant downward