Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1907-11-11
8he Hrgus Daily Short Story
"A Summer Storm"-By A. M. Davies Oeden
Copyrighted 1907, by sprague)

in kindly, hating Spanish. The small
face lighted up. the soft olive cheeks
flushed duskily, as the girl stammered
some grateful reply. Margaret was
almost startled at the loneliness of the
child. and young Morris, close behind,
caught his breath.
The house party had been invited
for two weeks, but hardly three days
had passed before Mrs. Rushwell be-
gan dimly to surmise something wrong.
TO all appearance her guests were we'll
chosen and congenial, but some subtle
sixth sense made her aware of
strain. tension, carefully hidden, but
acuteiy present She fell to watching.
but conclusions baffied her. The little
South American girl. her eyes wider
and darker than ever, chung to Mar
garet with an almost passionate devo-
ton. The Morris boy moped. Mar
garet. in a mood difficult Of analysis,
enveloped herself in a hayward bril-
liancy impossible to penetrate. Once
or twice his hostess caught Lass:ter
studying with curious eyes his little
fiancee. What was the matter with
them all, wondered Mrs. RushwelI.
Was Lassiter jealous? There could be
nothing serious in the Morris boys at
tentionS.
1t was the last night of their stay
All day heavy clouds had been piling
up in the west, threatening masses OF
violet. The sun had sunk below the
horizon in a sullen blaze of dull red.
The stiffness and the heat We're in
tense. Margaret, restless and wea-
ried, had slipped outside. seeking ref
uge, breath among the stately pines.
Above her head they murmured in
endless cadence, musical and mysteri-
Gus. But to her troubled mind the tran
quillity of the woods brought no peace.
AS yet the pain was too flesh for ma
lures asSuagement. And twisted
through the tangle of her own per-
sistent thoughts ran teasing little
question of Belen's. Before dinner the
| girl had come to her room. The ca
mellia-like face was pale; the dusky
eyes had an odd look of suffering. She
had picked up Margaret's silver hand
glass and stood balancing it absently.
"AIr. Townsend. he is a very great
man, is he not?" She had put the
question wistfully, and Margaret had
| answered yes.
TIT is strange that he can care for
one-one so young, so ignorant, so I'M
trained faltered the young voice.
| DO you-do you think he really does
really?" The big eyes had searched
Margaret's face with an eager, almost
a supplicating intensity.
| For a moment Margaret's heart had
almost stopped its beating. What
could the child mean? Then she had
forced herself to calmness.
81 know he does,'n she had an
swered steadily. He cares very
much
But the question fingered in Marga-
ret's mind, touched to a poignant sig
nificance by the memory of that small
| white face. OF what was the child
thinking? Whence came the hidden
feeling which prompted the query?
Margaret, despite the close atmos-
phere, shivered. Why had Lassiter re-
turned and why, oh. why. had he come
here to destroy, this time forever, the
peace of mind which Margaret had be-
lieved so secure at last? And this poor
child who loved her! Involuntarily
| Margaret wrung her hands. How
hard, how complicated, was life. But.
thank Heaven. tomorrow they would
all separate. After tomorrow she need
see him no more.
There was a step behind her on Nhe
soft carpet of fallen needles-a quick,
firm tread coming hurriedly down the
path. Margaret turned. 1t was dusky
under the thick sheltering boughs, but
she recognized at once that it was Las
sitter At sight of the white figure be-
fore him the man started.
Margaret he calculated sharply
Margaret But he caught himself
at once. Il beg your pardon" he
smiled. "You looked almost like a
ghost there among the trees. l am on
my way to the boathouse," explaining
easily. "Belen and young Morris are
on the lake, and it looks SO like a
storm
Come" she said quickly. 1t had
grown very dark. The sultIy air was
breathleSS. Not sigh stirred the
branches above. The slippery, over
grown path was difficult to find, but
Margaret sped unheedingly on. That
. little frail canoe out on the tumblins
waters! Oh, why was the boathouse
. so far? And then all at once gnarled
old root thrust boldly out caught hel
foot. She tripped, stumbled, and the
next instant she had fallen into Las
. | siter's arms.
1t was only for one brief fraction o.
time, one half anguished moment, dur
ing which the man, his stern self con