The herald-advance. (Milbank, S.D.) 1890-1922, 1910-11-25

thlng on 1t penetrated my mind. Still
In its papers. evidently just opened,
was a hat box. and protruding over
the edge Of the box was a streamer of
vivid green ribbon.
On the plea that / wished to ask
Mrs. Carter a few more questions, l
let the others go on. l watched them
down the flagstone walk; saw Nc.
knight stop and examine the gate
posts and saw, too, the quick glance
he threw back at the house. Then |
turned to Mrs. Carter.
i would like to speak to the young
lady upstairs" | said.
h threw up her hands with a
quick gesture OF surrender. I've done
all | could" she exclaimed. "She
won't like it very we'll, but-she's in
the room owe the parlor."
| vent eagerly up the ladder-like
stairs. to the rag carpeted hall. Two
doors were open, showing interiors of
four poster beds and high bureaus.
The door Of the room over the parlor
vas almost closed. l hesitated in the
hallway; after all, what right had |
to intrude on her? But she settled my
difficulty by throwing open the door
and facing me.
II beg your pardon, Miss West
l stammered. 1T has just occurred
to me that I am unpardonably rude. I
saw the hat downstairs and II
guessed"
"The hiatt" she said. Il might have
known. Does Richey know l am
here?"
Il don't think So" l turned to go
down the stairs again. Then halted.
"The fact is" l said, in an attempt at
justification. I'm in rather q mess
these days, and I'm apt to do ire
sponsible things. 1t is not impossible
that | shall be arrested, in a day or
so, for the murder of Simon Harring-
ton"
She drew her breath in sharply.
"Murder!" she echoed. Then they
have found you after ALL"
II don't regard it as anything more
than-er-inconvenient," | lied. They
can't convict me, you know. Almost
all the witnesses are dead"
She was not deceived for a moment.
She came over to me and stood, both
hands on the rail of stair. II know
just how grave it is" she said quiet
ly. my grandfather will not leave one
stone u%nturned, and he can be terrible
terrible. But'-she looked directly
into my eyes as / stood below her on
the +oipc--Eth 40 tin1A ~ a u anran-
soon-when ! can help you. I'm
afraid l shall not want to; I'm a
dreadful coward, Mr.. Blakeley. But
i will. She tried to smile.
II wish you would let me help you,"
I said unsteadily. Let us make it a
bargain; each help the other."
The girl shook her head with a sad
little smile. II am only as unhappy
as l deserve to be-" she said. And
when l protested and took a step to-
ward her she ~retreated, with her
hands out before her.
why don't you ask me all the ques-
tons you are thinking?" she demand
ed, with a catch in her voice. "Oh.
l know them. Or are you afraid to
ask"
l looked at her, at the lines around
her eyes, at the drawn look about her
mouth. Then l held out my hand.
Afraid" l said, as she gave me hers.
There is nothing in Gods green
earth I am afraid of, say of trouble
for you. To ask questions would be
to imply a lack of faith. l ask you
nothing. Some day, perhaps, you will
come to me yourself and let me help
you"
The next moment l was out In the
golden sunshine; the birds were sing
ing carols of joy; l walked dizzily
through rainbow-colored clouds, past
the twins, cherubs now, swinging on
the gate. 1t was a new world into
which I stepped from the Carter farm
house that morning, for-I had kissed
her!
cTO BE CONTINUED.)