Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-01-28

, DvOVlHY 1nAN
Copyright fo1a, The Bohhs
CHAPTER I.
A Knock at the Door.
Fran knocked at the front door. It
was too dark for her to find the bell;
however, had she found 1t, she would
have knocked just the same.
At first, no one answered. That was
not surprising, since everybody was
supposed to be at the Union camp
meeting that had been advertised for
the last two months. OF course it was
not beyond possibility that some one
might have stayed at home to invite
his soul instead of getting it saved;
but that any one in Littleburg should
go visiting at half past eight. and
especially that any one should come
knocking at the door of this particu-
lar house. was almost incredible.
No doubt that is why the young
woman who finally opened the door
after Fran had subjected it to Sec
ond and more prolonged visitation Of
her small fist-looked at the strang-
er with surprise which was, in itself.
reproof. Standing in the dim light that
reached the porch from the hall,
Fran's appearance was not above sus.
picion. She looked very dark sharp
faced, and small. Her attitude sug-
gested one who wanted something and
had come to ask for it. The lady in
the doorway believed herself con-
fronted by "camper"-one of those
fitting birds of outer darkness who
have no religion of their own, but who
are always putting that of others to
proof
The voice from the doorway was
COOL impersonal. as if. by it's very
aloofness. it would push the wanderer
away: What do you want?"
II want Hamilton Gregory" Fran
answered promptly, without the slight
est trace Of embarrassment. "I'm told
he lives here"
mir. Gregory"-offering the name
with its title as palpable rebuke -
elves here, but is not at home. What
do you want, little girl?"
Where is he?" Fran asked, un-
daunted. .".
At first the young woman was
tempted to close the door upon the
impudent gaze that never faltered in
watching her, but those bright. un-
Wavering eyes, cleaning out of the
gloom of straw hat and overshadow-
ing hair. compelled recognition Of
some sort.
"He is at the camp meetin," she
answered reluctantly, irritated at op-
position, and displeased with herself
for being irritated. What do you want
with him I will attend to whatever it
is. ] am acquainted with all of his al
fairs-I am his secretary"
Where Is that camp meeting? How
can I find the placer" was Fran's
quick rejoinder. She could not explain
the dislike rising within her. She was
too young, herself, to consider the
others youth an advantage, but the
beauty of the imperious woman in the
doorway-why did it not stir her ad.
miration?"
Mr.. Gregory's secretary reflected
that, despite its seeming improbability
1t might be important for him to see
this queer creature who came to
strange doors at nighttime.
IF you will 90 straight down that
road she pointed "and keep on
for about mile and half, you will
come to the big tent. Mr.. Gregory will
be in the tent, leading he choir"
"All right" And turning her back
on the door, Fran swiftly gained the
front steps. Half way down, she
paused, and glanced over her thin
shoulder. Standing thus, nothing was
to be seen of her but a blurred out
line, and the shining of her eyes.
81 guess" said Fran inscrutably,
you're not Mrs. Gregory"
"No." came the answer. with an al
most imperceptible change of manner
"a change as of gradual petrifaction.
~ am not Mrs. Gregory" And with
that the lady. who was not Mrs.
Gregory. quietly but forcibly closed
the door.
1t was as IT, with the closing of that
door, she would have shut Fran out Of
her life.
CHAPTER II.
A Disturbing Laugh.
A long stretch of wooden sidewalks
with here and there a leprous break
ing out Of granitoid: a succession Of
dwellings, each in its yard of blue
grass, maple trees, and whitewashed
palings, with several residences fine
enough to excite wonder-for modest
cottages set the architectural pace in
the village: a stretch of open country
beyond the corporate limits. with
footbridge to span a deep ravine-and
then, at last. sudden glow in the
darkness not caused by the moon.
with circle of stamping and neighing
horses encompassing the glow.
The sermon was ended, the exhorta-
tion was at the point Of loudest voice
and most impassioned earnestness. A
number Of men. most of them young,
thronged the footpath leading from
the stiles to the tent. A few we're
smoking: all we're waiting for the
pretty girls to come forth from the
Christian camp. Fran pushed her way
among the idlers with admirable non
chalance, her sharp elbow ready for
the first resistive pair Of ribs.
The crowd outside did not argue q
scarcity of seats under the canvas.
Fran found a plank without a back,
loosely disposed and entirely unoccu-
pied. She seated herself, straight as
an Indian, and with the air of being
yory nuch at ease