The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1910-06-02
CHAPTER XVI.

Before Richard returned to Chicago
it was found that Seth's liking for him
had taken practical form. He had
made a will giving to Richard all the
property of which he died possessed.
The fortune was not large, but
enough to pay his college debt, raise
the mortgage, and leave a comfortable
sum for his mother-enough, indeed,
to make her a woman of importance
in the neighborhood.
She protested in a mild way when
Richard proposed to settle the money
on her. But he had grown too master
full for her. In the end she enjoyed
the feeling of Importance that an as
sured income gave her. She refused
to accompany him to Chicago. It
was all "out west" to her and very
far away.
Derring found himself speeding to-
wards Chicago, wondering whether
this unexpected turn of fortune would
make marriage nearer for him. But
when they met he did not ask her.
They assumed the old easy relation as
if there had been no separation. Life
sped on with days too full of content
to ask promises from the future.
When the time of parting came In
June he found that he could let her
go with less dread than he had
thought possible. The time would not
be long, and with the increased free
dom that had come to him in money
affairs he could run east during the
vacation. If trouble came to her, or
harm, he could be with her in a few
hours. 1t was with light heart that
he say her 90.
He had accompanied her to the
train and provided her with all the
comforts for the journey that love
could suggest. Between the leaves Of
one of the books vas tucked a letter.
He had not told her it was there.
She would find it. The train began to
move. "Good-by," he said, hurriedly,
Il shall come to you if you need me.
In any case / shall see you soon"
He sat up late, working on an ar
ticle for the next day. When at last
tired and exhausted, he threw him
self on the bed, he fell at once into a
sound sleep. He slept long and heav-
lily. He started up with a sense OF
suffocation.-Where was he?-What
was the matter?-Was the house on
fire? Before he was fairly awake he
knew that the room was quiet-so
quiet that he could hear the ticking
of his watch. Then an awful fear
anne upon him-she was in danger.
Great God, how the feeling mastered
him! He sprang up and looked at
his watch-three o'clock. He dressed
quickly and went out-of-doors. He
could not stay in the house. 1t suf-
located him. He must move about or
go insane.
Instinctively he turned towards the
lake. A light, fresh breeze greeted
him as he came to the breakwater.
He lifted his face to meet it. 1t would
blow these foolish notions out Of his
brain. He had been dreaming and had
been frightened by his own fancies.
He slackened his pace, listening to
the soft tapping of the water against
the breakwater, and looking up to the
stars. Then again fear took posses
sion Of him and he quickened his step
until at last he broke into a run,
driven by an awful. nameless dread.
Thus he alternated between hope
and fear until the first faint line Of
dawn appeared across the water. AS
he stood looking at it, longing for day
to break, a sudden peace came upon
him. He drew a quick breath as the
tension gave way. She was safe once
more. This time he did not question
his mood. He knew with quiet Ger,
tainty that all was well with her.
(To BE CoNTINUED)