Okolona messenger. (Okolona, Miss.) 1900-current, 1911-04-06

self into a man and look at me in sur
prise, and ask me, in English, what
in the world l am doing here-I had
the yacht; and ask me If I'm real"
There was a moment Of silence aft
er that. Unconsciously they drew a
little nearer together. Then Cayley
spoke. I'm real, at any rate" he
said; "at least I'm a tax payer, and l
weigh 100 pounds, and / have a name
and address. It's Philip Cayley, II
that will make me seem more natural,
and my headquarters this summer are
over on Point Barrow"
"Tm not dreaming, then?" she asked
obviously.
NO." he said; eff either of us Is
dreaming, it's not you. May l furl up
my wings and talk to you for awhile?"
Her eyes were on the broad-spread,
shimmering planes which lay on the
ice behind him. She seemed hardly
to have heard his question. though
she answered it with an almost voice.
less yes" Then she approached,
half fearfully, the thing he called his
wings"
ut is made of quite commonplace
materials" he said with a smile
split bamboo and carbon and catgut
and a fabric of bladders, cemented
with Ash glue. And folding 1t up 10
rather an ungainly job. The birds still
have the advantage Of me there. In
a strong wind it's not very easy to do
without damaging something. Would
you mind slipping that joint for me
that one right by your hand? It's just
like a fishing rod"
She did as he asked, and her smile
convinced him that she had at least
half-guessed his purpose in asking the
service of her. The next moment her
words confirmed 1t.
"You wanted me to make sure, 1
suppose, that 1t would not turn Into q
great roc when I touched 1t and ny
away with me to the Valley of pa-
monds." She patted the furled wing
gently with both hands. II suppose"
she continued, "one could dream as
vivIdly as this, although l never have
unless, of course, this Is a dream.
But" and now she held out her hand
to him, but / hope l am awake. And
my name is Jeanne Fielding"
He had the hand in his, and noticed
how live and strong and warm it was,
before she pronounced her name. AT
the sound of 1t, he glanced at her curl
ously: but all he said Just then was,
"Thank YOU" and busted himself i'm
mediately with completing the process
Of furling his wings.
When he had finished, he tossed the
sheep-skin down in a little hollow IN
the foe, and with a gesture invited
her to be seated.
ooh, I've a great pile of bear skins
, out here" she said, quite a ridiculous
, pile of them, considering It is not Q
cold night; and we can make our.
, selves comfortable here, or go aboard
: the yacht. just as you please"
; They were seated side by side II
3 the little nest she had made for her
Q self. before he reverted to the idet
which had sprung up in his mine
/ upon hearing her name. There wa
o a Captain Fielding once" he sai(
t slowly. who set out from San Fran
cisco half a dozen years ago, in thu
d hope of discovering the pole by thu
e way Of Behring strait. His ship wa
never seen again, nor was any wor'
received from him. Finding you her
o and hearing your name, wondered
i" YES" she said g~ravely, "he was m,
p father. We got news Of him last wiz
n ter, IL you could call 1t news, for
D. was four years old before 1t reache
II us. A whaler in the arctic flee
a. picked UP a floating bottle with a me-
e. sage from him telling where he wa
l. So we have come here to find him-
III at least to find where he died, for.
a suppose there is no hope-never
al much as q grain Of hope Of anytial
e better"
r. cTo BE coNTINUED1