The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-08-22
THE EVENING STORY
The Tarnished Moon.
(By Katherine Hopson.)

| CARRIED and carrying a racket, passed
down the sandy, pine-bordered road
leading from Sandoon hotel to the ten
| mis- court, he saw, instead of the ath-
let1c figure of Jean McNarth, who had
| agreed to join him there in a game, q
sunny haired, organdy-clad vision
| seated on the bench in an attitude of
| strained expectancy.
| At his approach she rose and began
1 to spell rapidly on her fingers and to
motion across the lake
| Deaf and dumb" he calculated,
and mentally called down maledictions
on the faculty for not including the
mute alphabet in his college course.
Where are your friends? May I
not see you to the hotel?" he began
confusedly, and motioned in that d.
rection.
Her blue eyes watched his hands.
and she shook her head, again point
ing toward the lake.
He motioned inquiringly in the d.
rection of Glen Echo, small summer
resort on the opposite shore. She
nodded, a relieved smile breaking over
| her face.
IF could only find out who she is,
and why she happens to be here
alonei' he exclaimed, and vainly
searched his pockets for pencil and
paper "Of course those articles are
missing when most need them. Well.
| anyway, it's evident she wants to go
| across the lake.
| rowboat, and he led the way thither,
| pointed toward it. then again motioned
quest1on1ngly toward Glen Echo. She
nodded, so he helped her into the boat,
united it, took the oars and they
| started in that direction.
The boat was supplied with cush-
| IONS, and she leaned back like a con-
hding child. Though hatless, she car
brought out the exquisite shell tint of
| her cheeks. Occasionally she glanced
uD with smile, but for the most part
kept her blue gaze downcast and
| little hand among the lily pads.
After. MaIdon had guided the boat
into the current, he put down the
oars. rested against the cushions, and
/ quiringly. She shook her head, SO he
lighted it, and watched her through
the smoke.
"I don't want to stare her out OF
speak nor hear, but the temptation
| is great" he breathed. Perhaps her
fluffy femininity made a stronger ap-
peal because of the fact that khaki
and camping outfits were the rule
among the girs at the mountain resort
where he was spending his vacation.
| Such loneliness, and such an Attic
sfon!" he said. Every once in awhile,
| forgetfu1 of the fact that she could not
hear, Maldon broke out with a re-
mark; but she paid no heed, unless
she happened to be glancing that way,
then. she would give brave, pathetic
little smile.
Dropping, silver-1eaved popIars bent
/ over the waters edge, and the two
seemed alone together on the heart OF
| the lake. Over all was that peculiar
silence. which. in lonely places, IRE
| cedes the sunset.
All too soon for Maldon, they gained
| the opposite shore, and regretfulIy he
helped her to alight. He started to
L n ho -
settlement of Glen Echo, but she
shook her head and started down a
| winding path leading among the pines.
/ When she had gone several rods she
paused, and, standing on tiptoes with
1 a butterfly motion, placed one hand
| on his arm, the other against his
broad chest, and touched his forehead
| with a soft, light kiss. Then she gath
| cred up her fluffy skirts and ran like
| some wild creature of the forest, and
disappeared among the trees before
| the surprised man realized what had
| happened. In moment he plunged
| after her, but all his eager. earnest
| search proved fruitless. The girl SEEM
! ed gone from the face of the earth.
Forgetful that she could rot hear, he
called and implored her to come back.
/ Until darkness fell he searched, then
retraced his steps hack to Glen Echo,
| but nothing had been seen or heard of
a girl who answered his description,
! and he was obliged to recross the lake
| with the mystery unsolved.
| Next day he returned. and for sew
| era1 succeeding days he made himself
a nuisance with his attempts to find
| some trace of her. With a young
mans usual fear of ridicule. he said
not a word about it to the other board
| ars at the hotel where he was stay ing.
Jean McNarth, lifelong chum, alone
was taken into his confidence.
| Though sympathetic and interested
to a satisfying degree, she could offer
no solution.
maybe she was a water sprite or
spirit of the lake." she laughingly sug-
gested; but promised to lend him her
aid.
It was not until the days had length
ened into a week that a trace of her
| was found.
1.-The first of the week there was a
bunch of college girls having house
rarity at the old Clemmons place, on
| the other side of the hotel" remarked
| Sam Clovis, the Sandoon postmaster.
| They're all likely lookin', and the
| young woman you describe may be in
| the party; but judgfn' from the cIat-
! ter they make when they come for
their mail, they amt none of 'em deaf
and dumb
you say they were here the frs! of
the week; are they gone now?" de-
manded Maldon.
"Gone for awhile Another girl on
/ lie other side of the mountain invited
| en- the ranch. But 1 understand the
| whole bunch are comm back Saturday
| night to attend the hop at the hotel
| where you're Stoppin'"
| No further news was to be obtained
from the old man, SO Maldon was