Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1906-11-22
SAC AloillluS.
where is he now?' she asked.
Her father turned to her.

about it in the morning.
where is he now, papa?' she cues
toned, going to his side and c%laspinc
her hands about his arm.
down at the shop. They carried his
father there from the train
why didn't you have them bring
him here?" said Mrs. Emory quickly.
after this I won't listen to a word
against either of them. | would like to
show the town just how we feel in the
Natter
81 suggested it. but Oakley wouldn't
hear to it. But don't worry about the
town. It's gone wild. You should have
seen the crowd on the platform when
1t saw Oakley in the engine cab. 1t
went stark mad"
Again C~onstance's eyes swan with
tears. The strike. the murder of Ry-
der, the fire. had each seemed in turn
q part of the tragedy of her life at An
tioch. but Oakley'S return was wholly
glorious.
Her father added, II shall see Oak
ley in the morning and learn if we can
be of any service to him"
A little later, when Constance went
to her W room, she drew forward q
chair and seated herself by the win
dow. Across the town, on the edge of
the flats" she saw dimly the long.
dark outline of the railroad shop. with
its single tail chimney. She thought
Of Oakley rs alone there keeping watch
| of fhn ciin 0f iha u,.ip, old p,,r1n,,,
who had so splendidly redeemed him
self by this last sacrifice.
Great clouds Of black smoke were
still rolling over the town, and the
woods We're still blazing %fiercely in the
distance. Beyond her window she
heard the call Of frightened birds as
they 1uttered to and fro in the dull
red light, and farther off, in the north
end, the mufled throbbing of the fire
engines.
If she had had any doubts as to her
feeling for Oakley these doubts were
now a thing Of the past. She knew
that she loved him. She had been pet
ty and vain. She had put the small
things of life against the great, and
this was her punishment. She tried to
comfort herself with the thought that
she should see him in the morning.
Then she could tell him all. But what
could she tell him? The time had gone
by when she could tell him anything.
It was almost morning when she IN
dressed and threw herself down on her
bed. She was disconsolate and miser-
able, and the future seemed quite bar
rem of hope or happiness. Love had
come to her, and she had not known
Its presence. Yes, she would tell Oak
ley that she had been little and narrow
and utterly unworthy. He had cared
for her, and perhaps he would under
stand. She fell asleep thinking this
and did not waken until her mother
called her for breakfast.
II am waiting for your father. He
has gone down to see Mr.. Oakley
Mrs. Emory said when she entered the
dining room. Constance glanced at the
table.
"Is he going to bring Mr.. Oakley
back with him." she asked n%ervously.
"He expected to. I declare. Con-
stance, you look worn out. Didn't you
sleep well?"
mo, not very. 1 wonder if they are
coming!"
You might go look" said her moth
er. And Constance hurried into the par
father enter the gate. He was alone.
Constance flew to the front door and
threw it open.
"He wouldn't cone?' she cried
breathlessly.
He's gone"
"GoneY'
eyes, a train was made up early
this morning, and he has returned to
B%uckhorn- Why, what's the matter.
ConstanceY"
For Constance, with Il little gasp OF
dismay, had slipped down into a clair,
with her hands before her face.
"What is it, dear!" he questioned
anxiously. But she gave linn no an
swer. She was crying softly, mre-
STRANGELY. 1t was I'LL over. Oakley
was gone, and with him went her only
hope Of happiness. Yet mere keen
than her sense OF pain and personal
loss was her regret that he would new
er understand that she respected and
admired him as he deserved.
II am sorry, Constance. but | didn't
know that you especially wanted to see
him." said the doctor awkwardly, but
with a dawning comprehension Of
what it all meant. She made no an
swer.
What is it, dear?" lie repeated.
"Oh, nothing. l wanted to tell him
about something, that is all. 1t doesn't
matter now" She glanced up into his
face with a sudden doubt. You didn't
see him; you are quite sure he went
away without your seeing him; you are
not deceiving me?"
"Why, Of course, Constance, but he'll
come back"
"No, he won't, papa,'' shaking her
head sadly. Hes gone, and he will
never come back. l know him better
than you do"
And then she fled promptly upstairs
to her own Ioom.