The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1912-03-06

quilted Thicket Point, and in that
week the hand of death had dealt
with them impartially, and to what
end? Then the miles he had traversed
in his hopeless journey up river trans
lated themselves into division OF
time as we'll as space. They were just
so much further removed from the
past with it's blight of tragic terror
He turned and glanced at Betty. He
saw tuat her eyes held their steady
look of wistful pity that was for the
dead man; yet in spite OF this, and
in spite of the bounds beyond which
he would not let his imagination car
ry him, the future, enriched with sud
den promise, unfolded itself. The deep
sense of recovered hope stirred within
him. He knew there must come day
when he would dare to speak of his
love, and she would listen.
"It's best we should land at Bates
place-we can get teams there he
went on to explain. And, Betty, Wher-
ever we go We'll go together, dear.
Cavendish doesn't look as If he had
any very urgent business Of his own,
and | reckon the same is true OF Yam
cy, so am going to keep them with
us. There are some points to be
cleared up when we reach Belle Plain
some folks who'll have a lot to ex-
! plain or else quit this part OF the
state! And l intend to see that you
are not left alone until-until have
the right to take care of you for good
and all--that's what you want me to
do one of these days, isn't it, dar-
ling?" and his eyes, glowing and in
finitely tender, dwelt on her upturned
face.
But Betty shrank from him in invol-
utary agitation.
ooh, not now, Bruce-not now-we
mustn't speak of that-it's wrong
it's wicked--you mustn't make me for,
get him. she cried brokenly, in pro-
test.
Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak
of it again." he said.
wait, Bruce, and some time-Oh.
don't make me say it," she gasped,
"or shall hate myself" for in his
presence she was feeling the horror
of her past experience grow strange
ly remote, only the dull ache Of her
memories remained, and to these she
chung. They were silent for a mo-
ment. then Darlington said.
After I'm sure you'll be safe here
perhaps III go south into the Choctaw
Purchase I've been thinking of that
recently; but I'll find my way back
here-con't misunderstood me-pll
not come too soon for even you, Bet
ty. | loved Norton. He was one OF
my best friends, too," he continued
gently. But you know-and l know
dear, the day will come when no
matter where you are l shall find you
and not lose you'll
Betty made no answer in words, but
soft and eloquent little hand was
slipped into his and allowed to rest
there.
Presently a light wind stirred the
dead dense atmosphere, the mist lifted
and envel6ped the shore showing them
the river between piled up masses of
vapor. Apparently it ran for their
raft alone. 1t was just twenty-four
hours since Darlington had looked
upon such another night, but this was
different world the gray fog was un-
masking-a world of hopes, and Of
dreams, and rich content. Then the
thought of Norton-poor Norton-who
had had his world, too, of hopes and
dreams and rich content
The calm of highly domestic ex-
istence had resumed its interrupted
sway on the raft. Mr.. Cavendish, as
ISOLATED in Betty's memory with GER
tain ear-splitting manifestations OF fe
rocious rage, became in the bosom of
his family low-voiced and genial and
hopelessly impotent to deal with his
five small sons; while Yancy was
again the Bob Yancy of Scratch Hill,
violence of any sort apparently had
no place in his nature. He was deep
ly absorbed in Hannibal's account of
those vicissitudes which had befallen
him during their separation. They
were now seated before a cheerful
fire that blazed on the hearth, the
boy very close to Yancy, with one
hand clasped in the Scratch Killers,
while about them were ranged the
six small Cavendishes sedately shar-
ing in the reunion of uncle and nevvy,
toward which they felt they had hon
orably labored.
"And you want dead, Uncle Bob"
said Hannibal with a deep breath