Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1909-08-21

! roamed this farm for years without
finding out where the best ones hide"
'No, shall not go home,' Edith de
clared that evening. "I'll show him
before my month is up that I'm good
for something. even if / can't write
stories Besides, other editors buy
them if he won't. I'd like to know
how he disco%ered this place. ]
thought it almost belonged to u.s."
'Ask him." returned Bert "For my
part, I'm glad he's here, even if he
did catch me in my beggar robes. But
picking-why, he worked like a steam
thrasher He filed a ten quart pail
while I was picking four quarts
GIVE mind to ask the pilgrim ia
Their to let me ride the hayrake,'
Edith remarked viciously. 81 used to
when l was girl, and I intend to
catch that bay colt and ride him to-
morrow without saddle. don't be-
lieve I've forgotten how"
"Do. and he'll surely think you ca
pable of running a cattle ranch in
Arizona, even if he doesn't accept your
stories
''He might suggest it in the next re.
fusal he sends me-" was the somewhat
bitter response, while a figure sitting
by the window in the adjoining room
heard every word and went on with
the third reading Of a typewriter
manuscript which would have been
very familiar to Edith could she have
seen it at that moment.
Day followed day in quick success
sion until only one week Of vacation
remained. The colt had been ridden
many times. Many were the gallops
which the two girls had taken about
the country. The harvest must have
cared for itself, for Mr.. Mcpherson
found many an hour in which to act
as escort. But one day the girls went
for the last time to the berry field
Their pals were soon filed, and they
started up the long lane leading from
the pasture to the barn. Halfway
home, where the little brook crossed
it, veritable demon of mischief must
have entered the brain of Bert.
- LETS hide our berries under that
oak" she said, "and then trace this
stream through the woods Who knows
what beautiful spots it visits or what
we may fndv
''I'm agreed" Edith responded. eve
haven't half investigated our garden
Edenic.''
Straight through the center of the
oatfield ran the little brook, bordered
on either side by elm and maple trees.
Then it entered the woods, and the
banks became higher, in some places
rocky and precipitous, in others so low
and pebbly it reminded one of an
ocean beach. Suddenly they caught
sight Of some flowers part way up the
bank, where another stream, seemingly
fed by a spring farther on, joined
forces with the one they were follow
ing.
'T'm going to climb that bank and
get those flowers" said Edith. "They
are the most brilliant ever saw"
''Plenty Of mud there" cautioned
Bert. ..
"Who cares for mud?" was the
scornful retort. mud, with such shoes
as were wearing! You go on, and I'll
climb up and join you beyond the
bend"
Gall right" Bert returned carelessly
and sauntered on. Several minutes
went by. She had gone around the
bend, out of sight. What was Edith
doing? Surely it was time for her to
appear. Flower picking does not take
all day. Then she heard a call, sharp
and quick, full Of distress. 1t was
Ediths voice. What was the trouble?
She hurried back along the bank Of
the brook, but before she had taken
half a dozen steps the voice rang out !
again. sharper than ever:
Bert! Oh. Bert! Hurry up!'
Then she saw her, halfway up the
bank. cIinging with all her might to a !