The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1908-08-28
bway, handling the frail canoe as clsv
Arly as though "a the manner horn.

srly as though 10 the manner born.
After that she came frequently an,
became much interested IN the build
Ing OF the house. The heavy logs wer
all In place now, and only the lighte
work remained. NJ.
The girl BRADLEY soon knew her /,
be Miss Nannette Cowdrey) found tn,
completion Of the cabin matter o
absorbing interest. 1t was no bette
than the huts of the natives save tha
It was more carefully finished, and o
this Nannette highly approved.
1T seems 80 foolish" she observed
ito 90 In out Of the glorious woods ant
turn on the hot water and dress fol
dinner In the same frocks we wear II
town. l should love to spend a sum
mer In camp like this with only
sympathetic people around me-"
She sighed to think Of the impossi
bility Of obtaining her wish and ther
gave her attention to superintendins
the fabrication of a rustic chair. deep
roomy and redolent of the woods.
For a month she was almost a daily
visitor. Then one afternoon she came
with frown upon her pretty face
and as Bradley settled himself for a
chat she drew a slip Of printed paper
from her pocket and regarded him at
tentively.
"A penny for your thoughts" he Of
fered when she did not speak.
. II think that you are horrid," was
the unexpected answer. This little
island has been such a haven Of rest
to me. Now I and that, instead Of
being a guide, you are a nasty, cynical
playwright. / Hate your
because i write cynical plays1" he
asked. 81 assure you that l would
rather write the other kind. but they
do not take with the audiences"
"I hate you Because you deceived
me-" was the answer In a voice that
was close to tears. II saw this In
magazine"
Bradley groaned. In an evil mo-
ment he had given an interviewer a
glowing description Of his island with
out betraying its location. II had been
made the basis Of an absurd human
interest" magazine story.
A copy must have fallen into her
hands, an1 more than ever Bradley
was determined to get even with the
imaginative person who had written
the story.
"And we cannot be friends" he
asked, "just because am not a
guidei"
Because you deceived me-" correct
ed Nannette. You were Just leading
me on to talk about the imitation
campers so you could put 1t into a
play"
"Not into play" denied Bradley,
into romance-a private romance,
| had hoped. Had / introduced my
self as a city man you never could
bave come again. ! should have raised
the barrier of conventionality between
rs. AS 1t was, you thought me guide
because l was building my own cabin.
With a guide you felt free to come
and 60 as you pleased. IL was only
Tor that reason / did not explain your
,rror."
"But now that I know the truth
must come no more" she said slowly
Is she rose to her feet. II am sorry
hat have found out"
She looked longingly about the camp |
which she had helped to make so COM
ortable with her suggestions and aid.
Then she turned and ran down to the
'each, where her light canoe lay upon |
he sands.
She had already pushed of when he
cached the beach, but at his call she
hecked her headway.
May come for your he called
oftly. MAY / come for you, Nan
lette, and bring you back to the camp
hat we built for ourselvesT
For a moment Nannette paused.
"Yes," she called, finally adding,
Come soon," and then the paddle dip
'ed deep into the water.