The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-03-31
CONTINUED from Yesterday

Il seen enough of the way some
of them women treated you" he con
tinued, and sez to myself 'Hel
turn next. There's a way out, | SEE
and John Alloway pays his debts
When the anniversary comes round
I'll put things right | seq to my
self. She saved my life, and she
shall have the rest of it, if shell
take it, and will give "A receipt in
full, and open new account in
the name of John and Pauline Allo
way Catch it? See-Pau,ine?"
Slowly she got to her feet, look
in her eyes such as had been in
her mothers but a little while be
fore, but a hundred times intensi
fled, a look that belonged to the
flood and flow Of generations of In.
dian life, yet controlled in her by
the order and understanding of cen
turies of white mems lives, the per
vasive, dominating power of race.
For an instant she turned heT
face towards the window. The storm
had suddenly ceased, and glimmer
of sunset light was breaking over
the distant wastes of snow
You want to pay debt you think
you owe" she said, in a strange lus-
terless voice, turning TO him at last.
We'll, you have paid it. You have
given me a book to read which
will keep always. And | give you a
receipt in full for your debt"
q don't know about any book"
he said dazed. Il want to marry
you right away"
Il am sorry, but it is not neces-
sary," she replied suggestively. Her
face was very pale now.
But | want to. 1t amt debt.
That was only way of putting il.
I want to make you my wife. got
some position, and | can make the
West sit up and look at you and be
glad
Suddenly her anger flared out, low
and vivid and fierce, but her words
were slow and measured.
There is no reason why / should
marry yol-not one. You offer me
marriage as a prince might give a
penny to beggar. If my mother
We're not an Indian woman. you
wou.d not have taken it all as a
matter of course. But my father was
a white man, and | am white
mans daughter, and | would rather
marry an Indian who would think
me the best thing there was in the
light of the sun, than marry you
Had | been pure white. you would
not have been so sure; you would
have asked, not offered. | am not
obliged to you. You ought to go to
no woman as you came to me- See,
the storm has stopped You will be
quite safe going back now The
snow will be deep, perhaps, but it
is not far"
She went to the window, got his
cap and gloves, and handed them to
him. He took them dumbfounded and
overcome.
Say, / ain't done 1t right, mebbe,
but | meant well, and I'd be good
to you and proud of you, and I'd
love you better than anything I ever
saw he said shamefacedly, but ca
gerly and honestly, too.
"Ah,. you should have said those
ast words first" she answered.
Il say them now
They come too late; but they
would have been too late in any
case" she added. Still, / am glad
you said them"
She opened the door FOR him.
Il made a mistake" he said hum
bly, q understand better now. new
er had any schoolin'"
"Oh, it isn't that, she answered
gently. ''Good-by"
Suddenly he turned. You're right
it couldn't ever be- he said. You
great. And | owe you my
ife still"
For moment Pauline stood mo-
ionless in the middle of the room,
her gaze fixed on the door which |
lad just Closed; then. with a wild |
gesture of misery and despair, she |
hrew herself upon the couch in a |
PASSIONATE outburst OF weeping. Sobs |
shook her from head to foot, and |
Ter hands, clenched above her head,
witched convulsively
Presently the door opened and her
mother looked in eagerly. Ait what
he saw her face darkened and hard
ned for an instant, and then the
hn ,irl'. ,,ttar oh