Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1913-12-11
CHAPTER v1-(continued).

pulling 1t away until she writhed with
pain. But he mad her sit, and tore
his handkerchief to bind the cut, after
examining it.
TITS not broken, Aurelie! Only
gashed-maybe sprained."
II wish it was broken-everything!"
He could hear her ear beat as he
bent to i the wrist. You little
savage-rhnning off wild like this
And the prize winner. Aurelie! The
most beautiful girl in all the west
they say!!"
She stared dumbly at him. Perhaps
he, too, was hooking her, playing OF
her full heart, her needless generosity,
her hungry soul, her love. There was
none of her small poses and airs about
her now, but the Celt's romance stirred
In MIN at some wild beauty in her.
When he had bound her arm she
q%uivered. n he "a a sense she was
Of the woods at the chance of free
dom. Then she turned to him.
She fooled me; and I'm going
away"
Fooled you?"
His mother. And 1 said I'd give him
up to her, but now I see she only fooled
me. 1 hate them now-and him. too!
"Aurelie!" Mr.. Curran was bewild-
cred. 81 never knew of this affair
you and Harlan. It's astounding"-he
rubbed his forehead-"impossible!!"
you think so, too?" she blurted.
IAN right. I'm a fool, I guess. But
I'll show EN-" She came directly to
him.. "Oh. Mr.. Curran, 1 want to go
away! I told EN- I'd give up this
prize thing, if he wanted me to. But
now it's different. Mr.. Curran, /. want
to be somebody"
She was staring at him in the moon
light. MIR. Curran could not stand
that; his w vagabond heart throbbed
nightly. He. too. was the exile, the
outlander. TIC be somebody! Right
then Snd there, Mr.. CuYran knew he
for any one who wanted to be some
body.
You are!" he cried. "And you can
go away, too, and show 'em!"
Her white face stirred a bit. Then,
with the direct simplicity OF her down.
river years. she muttered: "Mr. Cur
ran. I could just love you. I never
hadn't been for you!"
Mr.. Curran sat down and rubbed the
bald spot on his head. He was a mar
who had walked alone and Known the
sorrow Of evil. He put a kindly hand
to her shoulder. He was trying to be-
heve he had a great fatherly pity for
her.
Nov, little girl" he said. Tets walk
the trail home. It's beautiful-we can
see the river in a lno~ment-there! The
Mississippi! Way off there you came
from, didn't you? 1 lived there once,
Aurelie. I left a bit of my heart there
among your people. You're something
OF a savage, and you'll never get rid OF
what h wilderness put in you-never
never-God bless you! People viii
neve understand, but 1 dol"
She sighed. "Iswish you'd take me
away. Mr.. Curran-and let me do some
thing. Just like Uncle Mich said: .To
occupy the land!'
You shall!" he cried r%iotously.
why, what a nance you've got. Azure
lie! You're the little rebel done come
up the river to occupy the land. You
must come to the office tomorrow, for
two men are coming from Chicago to
see you. The Sunday editor of the
Chronicle. and an artist to draw you
And the Chronicle will give you a prize.
one undred dollars. It's not much.
chronicle, Of course, but for you-Aure-
lie. you'll be rich and famous one OF
these days. just see if you're mott"
She rubbed the bloody little bandage
on her wrist n stared over the town,
Il just will! And I just love YOU. Mr.
Curran! You're all he friend I got!'
MT. Curran gasped again. II sure
will help you. Aurelie. This old towns
got no use for either of us. We're the
in%surgent!' And he took her hand
gally on the path and danced her alons
until, to her set pale lips, a smile mao
70 come. And after 1t q sob: and then
the smile again!
When Mr.. Curran left her at Lind
storms fence he went back in a dream
to his old print shop. He lighted the
gas and took his pipe, filled it. sat
down and drew aimlessly on it half an
hour before he discovered it was moi
burning. 49,
Wasting my life." he muttered
wasting my life! BY jove. that little
up and do something, tool"
He did. He fumbled around Unit, he
found a match.
The most beautiful girl perhaps in all
America! Could the sentimental Mr.
Curran sleep after that? His hair was
thin II he had swung the circle and
come back to the prosy old town. but
no matter! He took a photograph on,
OF his desk a dozen times to study 1t
Some careless miracle of an obsc1,re
country studio had caught an arch
stateliness. a breathing grace, a spirit.
ual purity that made the town sasr
wnen It saw the thing-gasp, and then
ueciare It could not possibly be the
bootlegger's girl. Mr.. Curran groped
for the enhancement: yet, it was she
he had seen her face so in the moon.
light.
THE dear kid" he murmured. and
kissed n picture and laid 1t away.
Aurelie went about the next morning
In a dream, She helped Mrs. Lindstrom
with the breakfast dishes and then car
r1ed the baby out on the sunshine al
n porch to play with him. Neighb0
women came and went. Already they
We're discussing her, she knew, The
household had been in a hubbub. she
h calmest OF them all-Old Michi-
cams ~astounded questions, Johns nj
picious fa%naticisn, the wtfe's silly com.
lei the boys puzzled awe.
Aurelie a-going to have her picture
In the paper!
Well, 1t was like Aurelie. To Knute
and Peter she was ever the princess
of on amazing adventures g. fairy who
played with them and yet was not o.
them. From the porch she watched
them milking a lean-hipped heifel
which they had aroused, standing witt
their bare feet in the steam Of her bed
to avoid the frosty grass. Knute shiv-
cred In HE cotton shirt: above the
singsong OF the milking his chatter
Ing voice retorted to Peter:
Aw, Aureiie. h amt a-goin' to &c,
stuck up! She'll come out and go rab-
DIT huntin' with W fellers yer II she
does get her picture in the paper"
Later h went past him in the yard
dressed In her best gown. q cheap fan
tastic circlet of brass in her hair which
Uncle Michigan had given her years
ago.. She rarely wore a hat, for she
q none 70 her pride. Thu boys ysllsf