The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1908-04-17

"Won't Save Thing"
concealed the limitations of her at
tire.
What are you going to do?" asked
Mary, also putting on clothes which
we're easy of adjustment. She had
never gone to fires in the old days
before she had come to South Dakota !;
but If Louise went-gentle, highbred
Louise-why, she would go too, that
was all there was about it. She had
constituted herself Louise's guardian
in this rough life that must be so alien
to the eastern girl. Louise had been
very good to her. Louise's startled
cry about her note books carried little
understanding to her. She was not
used to court and it's ways.
They fastened out into the hallway
and down the stairs. They saw no
one whom they knew. though men
were still lodging out from unexpect-
ed places and hurrying down the
street. 1t seemed impossible that the
inconveniently built, diminutive prair-
lie hotel could accommodate so many
people. Louise found herself wonder
ing where they had been packed away.
The men, carelessly dressed as they
were, their hair shaggy and unkempt,
always with pistols in belt or hip
pocket or hand, made her SILVER with
dread. They looked so wild and weird
and fierce in the dimly lighted hall.
She clutched Mary's arm nervously,
but no thought of returning entered
her mind. Probably the judge was
already on the courthouse grounds.
He would want to save some valuable
books he had been reading in his Of
fetal quarters. So they went out into
the bleak and windy night They
were Immediately enveloped in a wild
gust that nearly swept them off their
feet as it came tearing down the
street. They chung together for a
moment.
It'll burn like hell in this wind!"
some one cried, as a bunch of men
hurried past them. The words were
literally whipped out of his mouth.
Wont save thing"
Flames were bursting out of the
front windows upstairs. The sky was
all alight. Sparks were tossed madly
southwark by the wind. There was
grave danger for buildings other than
the one already doomed. The roar of
the wind and the flames was we'll
nigh deafening. The back windows
and stairs seemed clear.
Hurry, Mary, hurry" cried Louise.
above the roar, and pressed forward,
stumbling and gasping for the breath
that the wild wind coveted. It. was
not far they had to go. There was a
jam of men in the yard. More were
coming up. But there was nothing
to do. Men shook their heads and
shrugged their shoulders and watched
the progress of the inevitable with the
placidity engendered of the potent:
1T can't be helped" But some things
might have been saved that were not
saved had the first on the grounds not
rested so securely on that quieting
inevitability. AS the girls came with
in the crowded circle of light, they
overheard something of gallant at.
tempt on the part of somebody to
save the county records-they did not
hear whether or no the attempt had
been successful. They made their
way to the rear. It was still dark.
Louise! What are you going to
do?' cried Mary, in CONSERVATION.
There were few people on this side.
touise PVT her hand deliberately te
sure-the door swung open. Some
one stumbled out blindly and leaned
against the wall for a moment, his
hands over his eyes. O. = : l.Es* &: 4:
s'''I cant do it, he said, aloud, q
can't reach the vaults. @
Louise slipped past him and was
within the doorway, closely followed
by. the frantic Mary. .
The man cried out sharply, ant
stretched out OBTAINING hand. Arr
. you crazy? Come back!!' 5.. q.
."'Mr. Gordon!'' cried Louise, with {
little sob Of relief, lis it really you
Let me SO quick note books!'''.
a thick cloud Of smoke at that mo
.nent camo rolling down the bacl