The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1908-01-31
CHAPTER III.
ION the Trail"


ION the Trail"
Williston himself came to the door.
His thin, scholarly face looked drawn
and worn in the midday glare. A
tiredness in the eyes told graphically
of sleepless night.
I'm glad to see you, Langford," he
said ut was good of you to come.
Leave your horse for Mary. She'll
give her wxter when she's cooled off
a Bit"
You sent for me, Williston?" asked
tile young man, rubbing his face affec-
tionately against the wet neck of his
mare.
81 did. 1t was good of you to come
tc soon."
Fortunately your messenger found
ne at home. AS for the rest, SADIE,
here, hasn't her beat in the cow
country, if she is only COW pony, Ell,
Sadie?"
! At that moment Mary Williston
came into the open doorway of the
rude claim shanty set down in the
very heart of the sun-seared plain
which stretched away into heart-chok-
I Ing distances from every possible
point of the compass. And sweet
' she was to look upon, though tanned
and glowing from close association
with the ardent sun and riotous wind
Her auburn hair, more reddish on the
endges from sunburn, was fine and
soft and there was much of 1t. 1t
seemed newly brushed and suspicious
" glossy. One sees far on the plains,
and two years out of civilization are
not enough to make girl forget the
use of mirror, even if it be but a
broken silver, propped up on a pine
board dressing table. She looked
strangely grown-up despite her short,
rough skirt and badly scuffed leather
riding leggings. LangforC stared at
her with a startled look Of mingled
admiration and establishment. She
came forward and put her hand on
the mares bride. She was not en-
barrassed in the least. But the color
came into the strangers face. He
swept his wide hat from his head
quickly.
mo indeed, Miss Williston; III
water SADIE myself"
please let me. I'd love to-"
"She's used to 1t, Langford," said
Williston in his quiet, gentlemanly
voice, the well-bred cadence of which
spoke of a training far removed from
the harassments and harshnesses OF
life in this plains country. You see,
she is the only boy have. She must
of necessity be my chore boy as well
as my herd boy. In her leisure mo-
ments she holds down her kitchen
claim; 1 don't know how she does it,
but she does. You had better let her
do it; she will hold it against you If
you don't"
But ] couldn't have woman do
Ing my grooming for me. Why, the
very ideal"
He sprang into the saddle.
But you waited for me to do II"
said tho girl, looking up at him Gu
riously.
Ibid 1? 1 didn't mean to. Yes, l
did. too. But 1 beg your pardon. You
see-say, look here; are you the little
girl who left word for me this morn
ing?"
Eyes. Why not?"
well. you see," smiling, but apollo
getic. lone of the boys said that Will
JIston's little girl had ridden over and
said her father wanted to see me as
soon as could come. So, you see, l
thought"
pad always calls me that, SO most
of the people around here do, too. 1t
is very silly"
81 don't think so at all. only
wonder why 1 have not known about
YOU before" with frank smile. 1t
must be because I've been away so
much of the time lately. Why didn't
YOU wait for me?" he asked suddenly.
Ten miles is a sort of a lonesome
run-for a girl"
II did wait a while" said Mary
bonestly. but you didn't seem in any
hurry. | expect you didn't care to be
bored that long way with the silly
chatter Of little girl
well" said Langford, ruefully' I'm
afraid did feel a little relieved when
I found you had not waited. l never
win again. l do beg your pardon" he
called. laughingly. over his shoulder
as he galloped away to the spring.
When he returned there was no one
70 receive him but Williston. To
eether they entered the house. II was