Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-12-06
II Au Al
a. OF

away, the triple mellow whistle of a
whip poor-will.
The place was alive now with bird
notes, and he listened with new de-
light. He thought suddenly with a
kind Of impatient wonder, that never
in his life had he sat perfectly alone
in a solitude and listened to the voices
Of the night The only out-of-doors he
knew had been comprised in motor
whirls on frequented highroads, sea-
shore, or mountain months where
bridge and dancing were forever on
the cards, or else such up-to-date
camping" as was INDUCED in at the
Fargoes' "shack" on the st. Lawrence.
He sat now with his senses alert to
new world that his sophisticated eye
and ear had never known. Some
thing new was entering into him that
seemed the spirit Of the place; the
blessings of the tall silver pOplars out
side, the musical scented gardens and
the moonlight laid like placid bene-
diction over all.
He rose to push the shutter wider
and in the movement his elbow sent
a shallow case Of morocco leather
that had lain on the desk crashing to
the floor 1t opened and a heavy me-
tallic object rolled almost to his feet.
He saw at glance that it was an old
fashioned rusted dueling-pistol.
The box had originally held two
pistols. He shuddered as he stopped
to pick up the weapon, and with the
crawling repugnance mingled pang-
ing anger and humiliation. From his
very babyhood it had always been 80
that unconquerable aversion to the
touch Of a firearm. There had been
moments in his youth when this I'M
reasoning shrinking had filled him
with a blind fury, had driven him to
strange self-tests Of courage. He had
never been able to overcome 1t. He
had always had natural distaste for
the taking Of life; hunting was an I'M
thinkable sport to him, and he re-
garded the lusty pursuit Of small
feathered or furry things for pleasure
with mingled wonder and contempt.
But analyzation had told him that his
peculiar adherence was no mere out
growth of this. 1t lay far deeper He
had rarely, of recent years, met the
test. Now. as he stood in these I'M
" lth IbC
cold touch of the metal the old shud-
dering held him, and the sweat broke
in beads on his forehead. Setting his
teeth hard, he crossed the room, slip
ped the box with its pistol between the
volumes Of the bookcase, and re-
turned to his seat.
CHAPTER XIII
The Hunt.
The bulldog. aroused from nap,
thrust warm muZzle between his
knees. ITS uncanny, Chum!" he said,
as his hand caressed the velvety head.
"Why should the touch Of that fool
thing chill my spine and make my
flesh tiptoe over my bones? Is it a
mere popularity Of temperament?
Some men hate cats'-eyes. Some
can't abide sitting on plush. I knew
a chap once who couldn't see milk
poured from pitcher without getting
goose flesh. People are born that way
but there must be cause. Why
should 7 hate a pistol? Do you sup
pose I was shot in one of my previous
existences?''
For a long while he sat there, his
pipe dead his eyes on the moon
lighted out-of-doors. The eery feel
ing that had gripped him had gone as
quickly as it had come. At last he
rose. stretching himself with a great
boyish yawn, put out all save one OF
the candles and taking a bath-robe,
sandals and huge fuzzy towel from
the steamer-trunk, stripped leisurely.
He donned the bath-robe and sandals
and went out through the window to
the garden and down to where lay the
little lake ruffling silvery under the
moon. On it's brink he stopped, and
tossing back his head, tried to initiate
one of the bird-calls but was unsuccess-
full. With a rueful laugh he threw off
the bath-robe and stood an instant
glistening, poised in the moonlight
like a marble faun. before he dove,
straight down out Of sight.
Five minutes later he pulled him.
self up over the edge, his flesh ting
ling with the chill Of the water, and
drew the robe about his cool white
shoulders. Then he thrust his feet
into his sandals and sped quickly
back. He rubbed himself to a glow,
and blowing out the remaining candle,
stretched himself luxuriously between
the warm blankets on the couch. The
dog shifted inquiringly at his hand,
then leaped up and Struggled down
close to his feet.
The soft flooding moonlight sent It's
radiance into the gloomy room, touch
ing lovingly its dark carven furniture
and bringing into sharp relief the 1.-THE
contour Of the figure under the feecy
coverlid. the crisp damp hair, the ex-
pressive face, and the wide-open
dreamy eyes.
John Va1iant's thoughts had fed a
thousand miles away, to the tall girl
who all his life had seemed to stand
out from his world, aloof and unsur-
Observation-Disclosures Fargo. He tried
to picture her, perfect chatelaine,
graceful and gracious as tall, white,
splendid lily, in this dead house that
seemed still to throb with living per-
sons. But the picture subtly eluded
him and he stirred uneasily under the
blanket.
After a time his hands stretched out
to the reading-stand and drew the
glass with its vivid blossom nearer,
TILL in his nostrils, it's musky odor
mingled with the dew-wet scent Of the
honeysuckle from the garden. At last