The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1908-01-01

Sun-seared, unklndly country. men
could stand tight for its future;
but not women like Louise 1t. made
men as we'll as unmade them. And
after all it did not prove to be the
undoing of men so much as it devel-
oped in them the perhaps hitherto hid
den fact that they were already want
ing. These latent, constitutional
weaknesses thus laid bare, the bad
must for while prevail-bad is SO
much noiser than good. But this big,
new country with it's infinite possibili-
ties-give it time-it would form men
out of raw material and make over
men mistakenly made when that was
possible, or else show the dividing line
so clearly that the goats might not
herd with the sheep. Some day, it
would be fit for women-like Louise.
Not now. Much labor and sorrow
must be lived through; there must be
much sacrifice and much refining, and
many must fall and lose in the race
before its big destiny be worked out
and it be fit for women-like Louise
Down in the southern part of the
state, and belonging to it, certain
big barred building sheltered many
women, when the sun of the treeless
prairies and the gazing into the lone
some distances surrounding their
homesteads seeped into their brains
and stayed there so that they knew
not what they did. There were trees
there and fountains and restful blue
grass in season. and flowers, flowers,
tlowers-but these came too late for
most of the women
If it had been Langford, now, who
was guilty of so ridiculous senti-
mentalism-the bold, impetuous,
young ranchman-he smiled at him
self whimsically Then he pulled him
self together. He did not think the
jury could believe the story Jesse
Black would trump up no matter how
plausible it was made to sound. He
felt more like himself-in better con
dtion to meet those few but stanch
friends of his from whom he had SO
sumnarily run away-stronge to
meet-Louise. Manlike, now that he
was himself again, he must know the
time. He struck match.
why. Lena, old girl, We've been
taking our time. haven't we? They
are likely through supper, but maybe
| can wheedle doughnut out of the
cook"
The match burned out Not until
he had tossed it away did it come to
him that they We're no longer on the
main trial
Now, that's funny, old girl" he
scclded. What made you be so un-
reasonable? Well we started with
our noses westward, so you must
have wandered into the old Lazy S
branch trail. Though, to be sure, it
las been such deuce of a while since
we travelled it that | wonder at you,
What's the matter now, silly?"
His mare had SHE'D. He turned her
nose resolutey, domineeringly, back
toward the spot objected to.
II can't see what you're scared at,
but We'll just investigate and show
YOU how foolish thing is feminine
squeamishness."
A shadowy form arose out of the
| darkness. 1t approached.
Is that you. Dick?'
Gordon was not superstitious man
| yet he felt suddenly cold to the crown
of his head. 1t was not so dark as it
might have been. There would have
been a moon had it not been cloudy
Dimly, he realized that the man had
arisen from the ruins of what must
have been the old Williston home
stead. The outlines of the stone stoop
We're vaguely visible in the half-light.
The solitary figure had been crouched
there, brooding.
I'm flesh and blood, Dick, never
fear, said the man in mournful
voice. I'm hungry enough to youch
for that. You needn't be afraid I'm
anything but spirit
"Williston!' The astonished word
burst from Gordon's lips. ''Williston!
Is it really you?"
None other. my dear Gordon! Sor-
ry startled you. | saw your light
and heard your voice speaking to your
horse, and as you were the very man
was on the point of seeking. just
naturally came forward. forgetting
that my friends would very likely
look upon me in the light of ghost"
"Williston! My dear fellow!" re-
peated Gordon again 1T is too good
to be true he cried. leaping from his
mare and extending both hands cordi-
ally. Shake, old man. My, the feel
of YOU is-bullv. You are flesh and
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