The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1908-07-16

TN not hurt" Alfred interrupted.
ITS scarcely a scratch! must help
the boys in the other car. They"
The conductor i~nterposed. obey
orders, Vincent. You're used up.
We've help enough in there. You've
done your part"
The two men, not needing his pro-
test, lifted him into the cabbage-car.
Now. Miss Anthony, let me help
you in"
mo. not now, thank you. I've
something to do first. You're not
ready to start, are your"
mo, it will be a half-hour anyway;
we must make one more trip to the
wreck"
Il can get in by myself. Don't
think about me-" Even the conductor,
accustomed to command, yielded to
the fnality in her voice, and hurried
On.
Can you sit against the car side a
few minutes, Alfred? You won't
faint?"
Faint" he secuted. Indeed, no.
But where are you going? Don't
leave me. Stella" he called a little
wildly as she stepped back a pace.
Perplexities, embarrassments, were
forgotten. In this solemn moment Of
tragedy they resumed their old rela-
lions, un~questioning.
I'm be back in a minute. Here!
You may keep this for met" She
tossed him her hat. "A nat is a pretty
sure anchor for a woman, isn't it?"
she said, smiling up at him, and was
out of sight around the end Of the
train.
She could not help the gayety in her
voice. The world was alive nee
more. Life was beautiful in spite OF
the grewsome sights in the car be-
yond. Since she could do nothing for
them she would not think Of them.
Alfred was here; hurt, yes, but not
unto death, not ever to great pain.
For one little moment she would self
ishly hug her Joy.
Down in a little swale, just before
they had halted, she had noticed the
bunch grass growing long and rank.
She few at il, tore ii up, handful by
handful, till she had a high pile, which
she gathered in her arms and carried
to the car. Pitching 1t in, she was off
again. Needless of Alfred's protest.
Three times she made the short jour
ney, pausing at the door after the
third load to catch her breath.
Aren't you coming in this timer
You must let me help you," he said,
partly rising, but falling back.
mo. no! Don't move! You aren't
able to; and If you do l won't comet"
she replied alphabetically, though her
face was shining. Turn your head
away, and don't look till say
'Here!'"
Il can't turn away from you, Stel-
la" he said whimsically, yet tender
ly; and her eyes dropped. Still, she
did not move
"Oh, come, dearest, won't you?
Don't wait so long. Tll--Ill turn
NY true love sem me a letter to turn
back my head Did you ever play
Green Gravel when you were a little
tad? My head is turned back"
Esther never knew how she man
aged the climb through the great,
gaping door, yards above the sloping
ground; still, she was there, standing
before him.
He spoke no word, but gazed up into
her tender, bending face. Light
speech that had bridged the first tense
moments was impossible now. Pain,
misunderstanding, pride, prudence,
even the years. fed. She loved him,
loved him! Nothing else counted.
Lean down. Stella, sweetheart"
he whispered at last, his eyes draw
| ing her with his words.
She knelt beside him. The long
separation melted into the land of the
aforementioned.
The engine whistle startled them
shortly, and a brakeman came with a
blanket for Alfred, his coat, and
Esther's bags and cloak.
will the fireman live?" Alfred
asked, while Esther helped him into
his coat.
I'VE think so, but can't tell surely.
of course. Poor fellow! He's con-
scious now The sympathy In the
mans tones brought Esther's tears.
Gould / do anything? Some"
she began haltingly.
'Pm sure / can" Alfred exclaimed.
half rising again.
The brakeman waved him back.
Miss Anthony. don't let him! He had
a pretty good shaking up himself;
but that's nothing to what he did. No
one knows how he ever pried that
wheel off from poor Dooly's leg; but
he did, and held it free till we came.
the sun broiling him like a beefsteak.
and Dooly begging all the time to be
put out of his misery. That's enough
for one day. You keep him right
here"
Alfred tried vainly to stop the story.