The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1909-09-17

of the house. Then he made a cicerone
of himself, and explained, with run
ming comments, each feature of his
plan as he showed how it had been
carried out through the various rooms
Surprised at the attractiveness OF
things, Dicksie found herself making
mental notes for her own use, and be-
gan asking questions. Sinclair was
superb in answering, but the danger
of admiring things became at once ap-
parent, for when Dicksie exclaimed
over handsome bearskin, rich dark
brown grizzly skin of unusual size, Sin
clair told the story of the killing,
barred his tremendous forearm to
show where the polished claws had
ripped him, and, disregarding Dicksies
protests, insisted on sending the skin
over to Crawling Stone ranch as a
souvenir of her visit
81 live great deal alone over here"
he said, waving Dicksie's continued re-
fusal magnificently aside as he moved
into the next room. give got few
good dogs, and hunt just enough to
keep my hand in with rifle" Dicksie
quailed little at the smile that went
with the words. THE men, at least
the kind l mix with, don't care for
grizzly skins, and to enjoy anything
you've got 10 have sympathetic COM
pany-dUnt you know that?" he asked,
looking admiringly at Dicksie. i've
got another skin for you-a silver-tip,'
he added, in deep, gentle tones, ad-
dressing Marion. ut has fine head,
as fine as ever saw in the Smithson-
ian. 1t is down at Medicine Bend now,
being dressed and mounted. BY the
way, I've forgotten to ask you. Miss
nioksie, about the high water. How
,ou get through at the ranch?"
Dicl1sie, sitting on the piano bench.
looked up with resolution. "Bravely!"
she exclaimed. "Mr. McCloud came to
our rescue with bags and mattresses
and 100 men, and he has put in re-
vetment 1000 feet long. Oh, we are
regular river experts at our house
nowl Had you any trouble here, Mr..
Sinclair?"
mo, the Frenchman behaves pretty
we'll in the rock. We had 40 feet Of
water here one day, though 40 feet,
that's right. McCloud, yes; able fell
low, l guess, too, though he and |
don't hit it off," Sinclair sat back in
his chair, and as he spoke he spoke
magnanimously. "He doesn't like me,
but that is no fault of his; railroad
men, and good ones, too, sometimes
get started wrong with one another.
Well, I'm glad he took care Of you.
Try that piano, Miss Dicksie, will you?
l don't know much about pianos, but
that ought to be a good one. l would
wheel the player over for you, but
any one that plays as beautifully as
you do ought not to be allowed to use
a player. Marion, | want to talk few
minutes with you. may 1? Do you mind
going out under the cottonwood"
Dicksie's heart jumped. Don't be
gone long, Marion" she exclaimed, i'm
pulsively, "for you know, Mr.. Sinclair,
we must get back by two o'clock"
And Dicksie, pale with apprehension,
looked at them both. Marion, quite
composed, nodded reassuringly and
followed Sinclair out of doors into the
sunshine.
For a few minutes Dicksie fingered
wildly on the piano at some half-for-
gotten air, and in a fever of excite
ment walked out on the porch to see
where they were. To her relief, she
saw Marion sitting near Sinclair I'M
der the big tree in front Of the house,
where the horses stood. Dicksie, with
her hands on her girdle, walked for
lornly back and forth, hummed tune,
sat down in a rocking chair, famed
herself, rose, walked back and forth
again, and reflected that she was per-
fectly helpless, and that Sinclair might
kill Marion a hundred times before
she could reach her. And the thought
that Marion was perhaps wholly un.
conscious Of danger increased her
anxiety.
She sat down in despair. How could
w OiAilNh aAlO"Ou q ~
one he had a care for TO be exposed in
this dreadful way? Trying to think
what to do, D!cksie hurried back to
the living room, walked to the piano,
took the pile of sheet music from the
top. and sat down to thumb it over.
She threw song after song on the
chair beside her. They were sheets
of gaudy coon songs and ragtime with
flaring covers. and they seemed to
give of odors of cheap perfume. Dick
sic hardly saw the titles as she passed
them over, but of a sudden she
stopped. Between two sheets of music
lay a small handkerchief. 1t was
mussed, and in the corner Of it mel
lie" was written conspicuously in a
laundry mark. The odor of musk be-
came in an instant sickening. Dlcksie
threw the music disdainfully aside,
and sprang up with a flushed face to
leave the room. Sinclair's remark
about the first woman to cross his
threshold came back to her. From
that moment Dicksie hated him. But