Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1913-11-06

his innocence. Il haven't seen a sign
of her. but I'm looking every minute
glad you're here"
Condolences were impracticable, be-
cause Of a tousled-headed, ~ink-stained
pupil who gloomed in a corner
why, hello, there, Jakeyi" cried
Clinton, disconnected; he had hoped
that Fran's subjugation might take
place without witnesses. What are
you doing here, hey?"
"Waitin' to be whipped" was the de-
fiant rejoinder."
Tell the professor you're sorry for
what you've done, so you can run
along" said the chairman of the board
persuasively.
Nav, l amt sorry" returned Jakey,
hands in pockets. Then bethinking
himself-"But l amt done nothin'."
Abbott said regretfulls, Hell have
to be whipped"
Clinton nodded, and sat down sol
emnly, breathing hard. Abbott was
restlessly pacing the floor, and Bob
was staring at him unwinkingly, when
the door opened and in came Fran.
Fran walked up to Abbott hesitat-
ingly, and spoke with the indistinct-
ness OF awed humility. you are to
punish me-" she explained, "by max
ing me work out this original propo-
sition"-showing the book-"and you
are to keep me here till l get it."
Abbott asked ~sternly, did Miss
Bull send me this message?"
"She is named that" Fran muir
INJURED, her eyes fastened on the open
page.
From the yard came the shouts of
children, breaking the bonds of learn
ing for a wider freedom. Abbott, gaz-
ing severely on this slip of a girl,
found her decidedly commonplace in
appearance. How the moonlight must
have bewitched him! He rejoiced that
Robert Clinton was there to witness
his Indifference.
This is the problem" Fran said,
with exceeding primness, pronouncing
the word as if 1t were too large for
her, and holding up the book with a
slender finger placed upon certain
italicized words.
LET me see it," said Abbott, with
professional dryness. He grasped the
book to read the proposition. His
hand was against hers, but she did not
draw away, for had she done SO, how
could he have found the place?
Fran, with uplifted eyes, spoke in
the p~laintive accents of a fi~ve-year-old
child: Right there, sir . it's
awful hard"
Robert Clinton cleared his throat
and produced a sound bursting with
accumulated his and r's-his warning
passed unheeded.
Never before had Abbott had so
much of Fran. The capillaries of his
skin, as her hand quivered warmly
against his, seemed drawing her in;
and as she escaped from her splendid
black orbs, she entered his brain by
the avenue Of his own thirsty eyes.
What was the use to tell himself that
she was commonplace, that his posi-
ton was in danger because of her?
Suddenly her hair fell slantwise past
the corners Of her eyes, making a
triangle of smooth white skin to the
roots Of the hair, and 1t seemed good,
just because it was Fran's way and
not after a machine-turned fashion;
Fran was done by hand, there was no
doubt of that.
sit there" Abbott said, g~ravely
pointing. She obeyed without a word,
leaving the geometry as hostage in the
teachers hand. When seated at a dis.
Greet distance, she looked over at Bob
Clinton. He hastily drew on his spec.
~tacles, that he might look old.
Abbott volunteered, This is Mr..
Clinton, President of the Board"
Il know" said Fran, staring at her
pencil and paper, "he's at the head
of the show, and watches when the
wild animals are tanned"
Clinton drew forth a newspaper, and
opened it deliberately
Fran scrubbed for some time, then
looked over at him again. Did you
get it?" she asked, with mild interest
did get-what?" he returned, with
puzzled frown.
"Oh, l don't know what it is" said
Fran with humility; "the name of it's
Religion
IF l were YOU" Clinton returned
] flushing, I'D be ashamed to refer tC