Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1909-03-20

shall be glad to escort you: very glad
indeed" He was bowling unctuously,
his hat in his hand. I'm at your SER
vice. Shall have the pleasure?"
"Oh. land, moi" he burst out with a
laugh. mo time for ceremonies. Got
to get there and practice that old an
them. It's late now. There goes the
second bell. I must hurry. Goodbye.
She waved her glove at her father ana
tripped girlishly down the walk. Keich-
line stood looking at her blankly.
You'll have to get used to Rose.
The old man turned full of apology.
There isn't a better-hearted girl in
this world, but she's young and impul-
sive yet. She doesn't mean any harm.
You know girls--they've got just about
so much Stiffness In 'em, and it's bound
TO come out. You'll get along with her
all right when you understand her.
She's a good girl--good's gold. She's
never once disobeyed me, and she new
er WILL"
Yes. yes, I understand" And he
had gone on to the church, mollified
and encouraged.
As ne sat and watched her at the
organ, her figure full of supple and
slender grace, her movements rapid and
decisive, and her whole attitude whis-
pering Of hearty and joyous life. he
forgot his veXation and was glad that
he had come. He studied her during
the sermon: her brown wavy hair; her
eyes that seemed darker than they
were; her cheeks and throat, girlish In
their outlines; and he resolved to stay
every Sabbath evening to the service.
He would go home with her through
the twilight, and perhaps he would
whisper to her something on the way.
Perhaps.
He fingered at the door while the
audience struggled out after the SER
vice. 1t was embarrassing, for all the
young fellows OF the neighborhood were
lined up for several rods down the
walk either waiting for their girls"
or else curious 20 observe what was
going on. He would not do IL again;
he would go forward and speak to the
pastor, and then take Rose as she came
down with the choir.
The row OF youngster grew thinner
about him; there were only half a doZ
en-; and now he was alone. What was
keeping Rose so long? Doubtless the
choir was arranging for a rehearsal.
He would walk in and see; 1t was not
proper for her to go home alone In the
darkness.
The church was empty save for the
janitor, who was extlnguishing the
lights.
Rose Hartswick-" he blurted out,
Has she gomez"
Land, yes; long ago. She went out
Of the side door there"
He turned, dazed and angry. AS he
reached the step, voice from the
shrubbery opposite beloved Justify:
"Too slow" and great, roaring
laugh followed from a dozen thrOats.
He did not see Rose again that night.
He rode down the valley veXed and
peevish, and II was two days before he
recovered his old confidence.
Thus II was in the weeks that fol-
lowed. He came every fair Sunday and
remained for the evening meeting, and
the girl tormented him until often, as
he rode back the long, dark journey
down the Run, he vowed that he would
never go again. He was at her mercy.
He was never quite sure as to what
was to happen next. If she complied
with his request, 1t made him sus-
piciOus. One perfect January afternoon,
he had invited her to a walk.
"Fine!" she had cried joyously. IT'S
just the thing; it's just the day for a
walk"
"Ah, it is; IT is," he had gurgled,
hardly daring to believe that she had
really consented. They would saunter
out in the clear, warm air, and would
sit at length In a sunny little nook.
and he would settle the whole matter
once for all. His heart beat high at the
thought.
(Coptinued Next WeekJ