The Ekalaka eagle. [volume] (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1909-1920, 1914-05-01

'cHN, anu uA at oINC AO
caught her In his arms and covered
her face with kisses.
Nov do yer know he cried, pant
ing. Nov do yer know" Mary strug-
gled in his embrace, half frightened.
"Oh, let me 60, let me go. David
Cree" she cried.
Not till yer say yer know why l
come outer camp" he answered hotly.
oh. l do, L do: she gasped at
length, lying still in his arms and al
most sobbing.
And with one last kiss David opened
his arms and let her go, and Mary
skinned down the hillside toward
home like a frightened bird.
Yet, when she reached the house and
stepped across the porch. the frighten-
ed look had left her face and another
expression was there.
David stood still, leaning against the
fence and watched her dainty figure
leap down the hillside and disappear
from sight, and only other thing
in all his life had ever so moved the
very foundations of his soul rs had the
sudden overpowering rush of his love
and the touch of Mary's little flutter-
ing figure that had at length lain still
In his arnlS-and the other thing that
had moved him had not been love.
He turned at length from his position
by the fence and. coming slowly down
the hill. skirted the Reddins' field and
made across the bottom lands toward
his own home.
AS he swung himself over the last
fence and dropped into the country
road he met Ellen Daw on her slow
return from her day spent. at the grist
mill at Linden-the little postofice vii
lage some five miles from the head Of
the Jumping Creek Draft.
In the light of his great knowledge
all women seemed to David, just then,
beings set apart and exalted. sanctiied
by his love for one. Therefore he
stopped and spoke to Ellen with extra
p%oliteness, though, as a rule, the girls
wistful, dark visage, with its eager
look-as though she searched every
face anew, with a fresh upspringing
Of hope for a thing that she had some.
how missed-did not particularly at
tract him.
"Howdy, Miss .Ellen!" he said, put.
ting out his hand to her as she sat
above him on her old horse, her bag of
milling swung at the back of her sad
die.
With a quick gesture the girl pushed
her rusty black sunbonnet of her head
that she might see the better. and then
dropped her work hardened hand into
his outstretched n with Il certain
shy awkwardness, while a slow, dark
color went all owe her face.
"HOwdy," she said briefly, and Il
seemed as though it was hard for hel
to say even that.
How you bin maxim hit:' Davlt
persisted.
"Oh. Jest tolerble,' she answered.
"How's yer paw he inquired.
Hes 50 crippled up with Their rheu
matiz this spring that he amt able tel
do err lick er work." she answered. still
I ! with the same constrained manner
Then she added in 81 lower tone. a.
, though to herself. "Hit keeps ME RICH
hard worked" I'D.
= A sudden realization OF how hare
worked IL lonely girl might be on tn
] top of Drupc mountain. with two dis
abled old people to look after. flashed
| over David in the light of his own pas
t. struggles, and he answered her Low
words warmly.
II Jest bet hit is hard. he said.
touch of sympathy in his voice tina
+ brought a, quick mist to the girls eye
+ and a Tightening to her throat. Sh'
fumbled with her reins a little blindly
t well, reckon i must be ira elin'.
;, she murnured .confusedly. But sh
. -- .- N-.a % go 70 '+F