The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1911-03-23
TTHOl. or "THE BRASS BOWI."ETC.
WlWSUDNU0ONS by DAW WAAGUG(

l ave of yourself, sir"
Well" began Amber; but paused,
his face hardening as he looked the
man up and down. nodding slowly.
"Per'aps,' continued Mr.. Doggott,
unabashed. you mistyke me for my
brother, Emery Doggott. e was ONE,
in England. larst / card of i'm. We
look a deal alike, I've been told"
You would be-" admitted Amber
drily; and, shutting his teeth upon his
inherent contempt for a liar, he
swung away, acknowledging with a
curt nod the civil Good AFTERNOON.
sir" that followed him.
The man had disappeared by the
time Amber regained his kit-bsg and
gun-case; standing over which he
surveyed his surroundings with some
annoyance, discovering that he now
shared the station with none but the
ticket agent. A stumbling and dis
consulate youth, clad in a three-dayS
growth of beard, a checked jumper
and khaki trousers, this person
lourged negligently in the doorway OF
the waiting room and, caresslng his
rusty chin with nicotine-dyed fingers,
regarded the stranger in Nokomis
with an air Of subtle yet vaguely mel
ancholy superiority.
IF we're lookin' for tn hotel" he
volunteered Unexpectedly, there amt
none" and effected a mastery retreat
into the ticket booth.
Amused, the despised o~utlander
picked up his luggage and followed
amiebly. I'm not looking for the
hotel that amt" he said, planting
himself in front of the grating; but
I expected to be met by some n
from Tanglevood-"
"Thet's the Quain place, daown by
tn ba-ay," Interpreted the youth from
~unplumbed depths of mournful alb
straction.
TT is. l wired yesterday
"Yeour names Amber, amt itT"
Yes, 1"
We'll, Quain didn't get yeour mes
sage till this mornin'. I sent a kid
daown with 1t 'baout ten o'clock"
But why the-but I wired yester-
day afternoon"
Il knaow We did" assented the
youth YEARLY. ut come through
raound closin' time and they want
nobody baound that way, so I held It
over
This craze for being characteris-
tic" observed Mr.. Amber obscurely,
rs the only thing that really stands
in the way of Nokomis becoming a
thriving metropolis. Do you agree
With me? No matter" He smiled en-
gagingly; a seasoned traveller this,
who could recognize the futility Of
pickering over the ~irreparable. More
over, he had to remind himself in all
fairness, the blame was, in part at
least, his own; for he had thought
lessly worded his telegram, "Will be
with you tomorrow afternoon" and II
was wholly like Quain that he should
have accepted the statement at its
face value, regardless of the date line.
81 can leave my things here for a
little while, l presume?' Amber sug-
gested after a pause.
The ticket agent stared ~stubbornly
into the infinite, making no sign till a
coin rang on the window-ledge; when
he started, eyed the offering with fugi-
tive mistrust, and gloomily possessed
himself of It. "Ill look after them"
he said. BE We thinkin' of walkin'?"
Yes" said Amber over his shout
der. He was already moving toward
the door.
"KnaOw yeOur wa-ay?'
I've been here before. thank you"
Crossing the tracks, he addressed
himself to the southwark stretching
highway. Walking briskly at first, he
soon left behind the railway station
with its few parasitic cottages, a dip
in the land hid them, n he had
hereafter for all company his
thoughts, the desultory road, a vast
and looming sky, and bare fields
hedged with impoverished forest.
Amber had p~rofessed acquaintance
with his way; it seemed rather to be
intimacy, for when he chose to for
sake the main travelled road he did so
boldly, striking off upon a wagon
track which, leading across the fields,
delved presently into the heart of the
forest.
The hush of the forest world bore
heavily upon his senses; the slight
and stealthy rustlings IN the brush,
the clear dense ringing of some re-
mote ak, an attenuated clamor Of
cawing from some far crows con-
gress, but served to accentuate it's in
f1uence.
Then into the silence crept a sound
to rouse him from his formless rev.
erie. At first a mere p~ulsing in the
stiffness, barely to be distinguished
from the song of the surf; but pres
emily a pounding, ever louder and
more insistent. He paused, attentive;
and while he waited the drumming,
minute by minute gaining in volume,
swept swiftly toward him-the rhyth-
milo hoofbeats Of q single horse madly
ridden. When 1t was close upon him
he stepped back into the tangled I'M
dergrowth. making room: fer the
track was anything but wide.
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