The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-07-30
Copyright LOG By the BObbs- Merrill Co.
CHAPTER VII.
SnoW-Bound.

While the world went about it's af.
fairs, attended to it's business, read
its papers, sent its kilograms and
wrote its letters, the little group at
Antelope was as completely cut off
from it as though marooned on a
strip Of sand in an unknown sea. A
second storm had followed the origi.
nal one, and the end Of the first week
saw them showed in deeper than ever,
Antelope trickle Of roofs and smoke
stacks, in a white, crystal-clear will
| derness, solemn in its stiffness and
loneliness as the primeval world
The wires were down; the letter
carrier could not break his way in
to them. They heard no news and re-
ceived no mail. Confined in a group
Of rude buildings, crouched in a hol-
low of the Sierra's flank, they felt
for the first time what 1t was to be
outside that circle of busy activity
in which their lives had heretofore
passed. They were face to face with
the nature they thought they had con-
quered and which now in it's quiet
grandeur awed them with sense Of
their own small helplessness. Pressed
upon by that enormous silent indiffer-
ence, they drew nearer together, each
individual unit gaining in Importance
from the contrasting immensely with.
out, each character unconsciously de-
| claring itself, emerging from acquired
reticences and becoming holder and
more open.
They accepted their captivity in a
spirit of gay good humor. The only
two members of the party to whom it
seemed irksome were Bill Cannon and
the actor, both girding against a con-
| nnement which kept them from their
several spheres of action. The others
abandoned themselves to a childish,
almost fantastic enjoyment Of stu
atisn unique in their experience. 1t
was soon to end, 1t would never be
| repeated. 1t was an adventure charged
with romance, accidental, unsought,
as all true adventures are. The world
was forgotten for these few days of
Imprisonment against the mountains
mighty heart. 1t did not exist for
them. All that was real was their own
| little party, the white-washed pas
sages and walls of Perley's, the din
ing-room with it's board floor and
| homely fare, and the parlor at night
with a semicircle Of faces round the
blazing logs.
On the afternoon of the sixth day
Dominick made his first appearance
down stairs. He achieved the descent
with slow painfulness, hobbling be-
tween Perley and the doctor. The for
mer's bath-robe had been cast aside
for a dignified dark-brown dressing
| gown, contributed to his wardrobe by
/ Cannon, and which, cut to fit the burly
proportions of the Bonanza King,
l hung around the long, lank form of
the young man in enveloping folds.
| The parlor was empty, save for Miss
| Cannon sitting before the fire. Dom
mick had ceased to feel bashfulness
and constraint in the presence of this
4 girl, who had been pushed-against
his will If not against her own-into
the position of his head attendant.
The afternoon when they had sat to-
gether in his room seemed to have
brushed away all his shyness and self
consciousness. He thought now that
1T would be difficult to retain either in
intercourse with being who was so
candid, so spontaneous, so freshly nat
ural. He found himself treating her
as If she were young boy with whom
he had been placed on a sudden foot
ing Of careless, CHEEKY intimacy. But
her outward seeming-what she pre-
scented to the eye-was not in the
least boyish. Her pale, Opaque blond
ness, her fine, rich outlines, her soft
ness of mein, were things as complete
ly and graciously feminine as the
most epicurean admirer of women
could have wished.
Now, at the sight of her bending
over the fire, he experienced sensa-
ton of pleasure which vaguely sur
prised him. He was hardly conscious
that all the time he had been dressing
and while he came down stairs he
had been hoping that she would be
there. He sent a quick glance ahead
, Of him, saw her, and looked away. The
pain of his feet was violent, and with
out again regarding her he knew that
while he was gaining his chair and his
attendants were settling him, she had
not turned from her contemplation Of
the fire. He already knew her well
enough to have q comfortable assur-
ance of her invariable quick tact. 1t
was not till the two men were leaving
the room that she turned to him and
said, as If resuming an interrupted
| conversation:
We'll, how do you like the parlor?
Speak nicely Of it for I feel as If 1t
belonged to me-"
Its a frst-rate parlor," he an
swered, looking about him. Never
saw better one Who's the gentle
man with the wreath Of wax flowers
round his head?"
That's Jim Granger. He comes
from here, you know; and you mustn't
laugh at those flowers, they came off
his coffin"
"My father knew him." said the
young man indifferently There were
lots Of queer stories about Jim Gran
ger. He killed a man once up at Bo-
die. You've fine fire here. haven't
you?"
| Fine. It's never allowed to go out.
What do you think intend TO do this
afternoon? I've a plan for amusing
and instructing you"
What is it?" he said somewhat IN
easily. Il don't feel in the least as
If l wanted to be instructed"