The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1908-08-14
Her / L a Answer |;
= go r. $500 .C;,.
- CLIFFORD z1xvoARD
(copyright. BY shortstory Pub. Cos

that the letter he handed to the young
woman at the door was both unex-
pected and disturbing. AS it was, how
ever, he passed on without noticing
the sudden pallor that overspread her
face nor the haste with which she
stepped back into the house and
closed the door.
Alone, and safe from observation,
she stood for moment in the mar
row entry and gazed fixedly at the let
ter In her trembling<hands. II knew
it; 1t is from Allen!" she whispered,
giving excited expression. to her
thoughts as she noted the return ad-
dress on the upper corner of the en-
'velope; and as one walking in a dream
she made her way slowly back to the
little, sitting-room and sank weakly in.
to a chair,
Holding the letter on her lap she
fingered it nervously and with grow
ing agitation; drumming upon 1t for
q second, then picking it up and
rumpling it between her fingers as she
again read the superscription, or
grasping 1t by one of the corners. and
drumming with its edge in rapid tat
too upon her knee. Twice she was on
the point of tearing it open, but each
time she refrained, as with sudden IT.
resolution, and turned her face alb.
ruptly away, to stare for a minute out
Of the window with its dull picture of
housetops and murky sky. Finally,
however, with quick, impulsive
movement, she picked up the penhold-
er that lay on the table at her side,
and without further hesitation opened
the envelope and drew forth the let
ter.
It was written in pale ink and the
chirography was cramped and uneven,
making It difficult to decipher. Her
hands shook as she smoothed out the
folds in the paper and held it up SO
that the light from the window might
fall upon it. Then, in half murmur,
half whisper, she read the letter aloud
to herself, slowly and haltingly:
Hotel Grafton, Portland Ore, Sept. 1870
My Dear Mary:
after all this time. have not written to
years ago last March, I suppose you
thought you would never hear from me
again, and I thought so, too. was des-
perate and hopeless and thought it was
all up with me. I drifted about out here
until the spring Of 1909 and then made
strike for gold in Alaska. 1t was a
last chance and hard one, but stuck
to 1t and luck came my way and I
cleared up more than a hundred thou
sand, and all I want now to complete my
fortune and make life worth living is for
you to forgive me, Mary, and take me
back. I know I did wrong not to write
to you or send you any word; but 1 was
desperate and I wanted you to forget
there was such man as me. thought
my life was failure and did not dare
to ask you to marry me and share my
bad luck with me- But it is all over now
and love you the same as I always did
and I want you to say it is all right
and you will come out to me here and
make home for me. You need never
think about work any more. I will build
you house fit for a queen and you can
have your horses and servants and all
the money you want to buy books and
fine dresses. Don't say no. have made
man OF myself for your sake, Mary
and love you and want YOU Answer
at once and tell me it is all right and say
you will come.
It Is going on three years since I have
heard anything of you. Are you we'll
and are you still hard at work with your
typewriting? And how is the twin-su-
san? Does she looks as much like you
as ever? I will never forget how you let
me take her to the entertainment that
night thinking all the time it was your
self. That was a great joke on me-
wish could come myself to fetch
you. but am in business deal out here
that won't let me get away for several
weeks, and can't wait that long for
you. Don't think about the expense of
the trip. will look after that. Only
say you will come and be my wife. 1
love you. love you. ALLEN.
She laid the letter down, and turn.
ing toward the window gazed out va.
cantly into space. A mist had begun
to fall in the shadowing twilight, Civ.
ing to the world without an aspect of
uSSSA 0ASoAAAOoSs T VI several minutes
the ticking of the clock on the corner
shelf was the only sound that broke
upon the somber stiffness. The wom-
an at the window sat motionless, save
for the troubled heaving Of her bos-
ON. Her thin, worn hands lay on her
lap. tightly clasped, while her up
raised face, pale and tense, gave sign
in mute distress of the torturing con.
flict that was burning within her
heart.
A tear t1ickling down her cheek
aroused her from her reverie. Me.
chanically she dried her eyes and then,
turning slowly from the window, al
lowed her gaze to wander about the
room in deliberate contemplation of
its tokens Of poverty and hardship.
Everything about her. from her faded
dress to the few. cheap pictures on
the wall. spoke Of toll and struggle
and want It was nothing new. She
had been accustomed to 1t for years:
but there was that in her expression
now that revealed a suddenly aroused
fNnd bitter realization OF her cheerless