Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1912-01-19

tlons, his words.
You are tired" he said finally,
"and little girls should be in bed at
this time of night. Come!"
But Molly Ashwell stood still and
looked down at the arms extended to
lift her from the step. then her eyes
travelled up to the face on which the
light shone full.
DO you know" she stated, thar
you look very much like Uncle
Gray?"
Blair turned swiftly from the glare
of the lamp. "Come!" he said, and
his voice held note of command.
With little hurt look in her eyes
Molly put out her hands. For
breathing spell the universe seemed
hung In midair. Molly tore herself
free then and fed in the darkness.
Blair watched her go, moonbeam
darting from path 10 path and finally
into the old rose garden and up the
great stone steps between the guard
ing lions and out of his sight through
the French windows.
For long moment he sat staring
at the windows through which she
had gone. Finally he arose. unteth-
cred his horses, hitched them to the
caravan and drove off into the night.
She is too wonderful" his lips re-
peated. II could not withstand her
long"
Three years came and went before
Molly Ashwell and the Vagabond
Dreamer met, three years in which
her eyes had worn a peculiar, brood
ing look-a look which John Gray
had tried in vain to fathom or to
| tighten.
You are not so happy looking
yourself" she had chided him on one
occasion.
he had grown shade paler.
i have cause-a terrible cause for
being miserable-but deserve it."
was all he had said.
She glanced quickly at him now as
they sat in the theater. The curtain
went up on new play. The scene
was an interior.
1T is almost exactly like our draw
ing room!" exclaimed Molly breath.
lessiy and waited for confirmation of
her words.
John Gray neither answered nor
seemed conscious Of her presence.
AS the play progressed Molly felt
the peculiar tension that held John
Gray. After a spasmodic clutch of
the hands on the chair arms he re-
mained as one turned to stone.
Inc play was the old, old story of
tne son who had frequented the stage
doors and had been turned away from
nome by an irate parent. In this case
the son had lived in the theatrical
atmosphere merely as a stepping
stone He had run away from home
TO go on the stage that he might gain
lntimate knowledge Of stagecraft.
The strong plot woven in this fabric
was neither here nor there except
that at the close Of the last act the
author was called forth.
He came from the wings.
MY son!"
John Gray sprang to his feet anu
held out pair of shaking arms to-
ward the man on the stage.
MY Vagabond Dreamer!" came a
glrrs voice through the hush that
followed the meeting of father and
son.
Regardless of the excited audience.
the two men met and the older man
clasped the other in his arms as II
ne was still very small boy.
Finally the quiet tones of the vaea.
bond went out to answer that un.
asked question.
my father and I have been long
estranged-I am too happy to saw
more. except that thank you for re-
ceiving my play 80 kindly"
During the thunder of ann,,rse
that followed slim little figure
slipped quickly out of the tkeater and
into the great Limousine tsat crent
up to the curb at her call.
Her heart was beating painfully IN
dull, miserable beats.
Nobody loves me-" she went SOFTLY
into the kindly cushions.
She sat huddled and broken. neither
seeing nor hearing the excited crowd
that came forth from the theater.
1t seemed ages before the two mon
arm In arm appeared. Molly dried
her eyes hastily and peered out as
they approached.
The younger man glanced at the
car. Then Molly saw his hand 90 nm
to shade his eyes. He made a quick
movement
She was very near him and the
Limousine had turned into a darkened
street when next she heard his voice
Mine! All mine." he whispered
against her lips.
Can we go In the caravan" Molly