, 1906-03-14

was not done with a gracious spirit. |
didn't enjoy it then nor in retrospect"
"You mustn't let him know that. His
worship of you positively irradiates his
face, and he's very handsome. He in
sists that you were heroic"
Ann grew a little petulant. Il wish
you wouldn't try to make mountains
out of molehills. 1t was a most un
pleasant experience, and | wish to for
get it, not to have it dinned in my ears
forever. My going was folly, and my
stay in that CHASTITY place vas a tor
ment. Please allow me to put it out of
my memory"
Ann had a moment of bitter home
sickness. a feeling she had never known
before. This mad trip into the west
with a reckless and representative boy
grew each moment more disastrous. At
the moment she fairly hated her eous-
ms and all the guests at their table and
longed, with u~nspeakable hunger, for
the roll of carriages Oh Fifth avenue
and the glitter and tumult of Broad
way. The stony, uninterested stare of
her mother was better than this pry-
ing, this o~verstrained interest on the
part of Jeanette.
As for Raymond, he had been mo-
mentarily interesting as a cowboy, and
when he was lying at the brink of the
grave he had assumed tragic value, but
now that he vas on the way to recov-
cry he ceased to interest. "He is mere
ly one of the thousands of other com
monplace young eastern men who have
tried their fortunes in the west and
failed" she said. "Why should l be
burdened with any further care of
him?' T.
AT dinner Don told again for the for
tieth time the story of Raymond's
shooting and in spite of AIMS protests
put her in as the heroine, which reinfu-
rated her almost to the point of leav-
ing the table. The "Ah's!7 and Dear
me's!' and by lowest" v%olleying from
the listeners We're quite insupportable.
One lady said. Poor fellow!"
mot at ALL" said DR.. Braide. HE
was a lucky dog. I'd be shot any day
to get such Il nurse"
Jeanette saw the angry flush on
AIMS face and hastily turned the con
yersation into less personal channels.
Thus every influence swept her to-
ward a dislike of the wounded mans
very name, and thereafter she ignored
his presence in the house, his being in
the world, as though he did not exist.
She neither asked after his health nor
replied to any report or question made
by her brother concerning him.
Louis brought to Raymond one day
a small limp book in red leathe'. which
he proffered with the air of giving Il
gem.
whats this" asked Raymond.
"Your e'ass.a'
IN ~ 'ather's. He was out here
befo" G 10 born. when the Indians
were L. =
Raymond opened the volume with
languid interest. but Don realized that
he was looking into the past through
the eyes of a poet. Part of it was writ
ten in ink very legibly, but in a fine
running hand. while other of the pages
were hastily scribbled in pencil and
not to be easily deciphered. Plainly the
lC1oid hdd btth hiiAtt iii SiCaA dio
advantages and in the field. The inks
were of various %colors, some wntery
blue, some dusty black.
Louis opened the book at the front.
wherein the picture of n slender, smil-
ing. handsome young fellow in SOM
brero and hunting clothes had been
pasted.
HE enjoyed his new hat, didn't he?"
said Raymond, to whom the essential
incongruity of the refined face and bor-
der ruffian toggery first appealed.
You're the image of your father?' he
added, looking keenly at the boy. HE
don't look much older in this picture,
taken at Sylyanite. Well, Sylyanite was
a wild town in those days. Is there
much about it in the bookY'
Ten pages. He wrote a page Of
fine script every day, but don't care
and the big canyons, and crossing the
rivers, and the Indians-he saw lots of
Indians-the Utes-these are what in
terest me-"
Raymond became profoundly inter
ested in this book. There was an APP
peal in the closing entry which touched
him profoundly. The entry was head
ed '"The Last View and closed with
these words: Il love my home and my
friends in the east, but this primeyal
world has laid its spell upon me. |
shall come again next year.