Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1914-10-13
STAMPED OUT THE LAST FURTIvE SPARKS

STAMPED OUT THE LAST FURTIVE SPAhks'
sauntered out into the summer evening
and sought n stationer's shop near by
He wished he could make himself let
Miss Shaw live in peace.
When later he knocked at her door
with some papers and magazines she
opened it crack and thrust out a
rounded forearm for his offering.
Something to read" 1t was his
usual formula, but humbly said.
Thank you," she returned through
a mouthful of pins and slipped the
door shut again.
Humor tugged youthfully at the cor
ners of her unwilling mouth as she be-
gan reading one of the mans maya
zines and saw the usual red penciling.
She always forgave him and usually
ignored his undertakings, but tonight
she examined them Might they real
ly have a message for her? She wished
to understand him. Could she? She
found this:
Scratch a cynic and find a senti-
mentalist"
Could he be that? Was the starved
look in his keen face because the best
thing in life had seemed to fail him?
Did his cynicism merely hide hurt?
Sunday morning dawned hot and still.
and at the last breakfast call Mary
Shaw dressed for the proposed board
ing house picnic and went downstairs.
Presently she sat slim and straight
in her thin gray dress and wide hat
while they all gathered on the porch,
motley group of derelicts drifted I'M
NV
Queries, the landlady, like an elderly
adaptive hen.
The sardonic man was packing fry
ing pans and fishing tackle, consulting
time schedules, marShaling forces with
the expeditions ease of a commissary
department. She had not seen him like
this. Meantime he ignored her as
though she were not and never had
been.
He led this conglomeration to the car
line as Miss Seymour, in hot black silk,
rustled past them to church.
They rode an hour, walked half
hour through suburban streets and
then went over fences and fields to the
haven of little lake set like blue
Jewel in green, grassy spaces. tree bor-
dered. whose ways were those of quiet
ness and its paths peace. Mary Shaw
was straightway child again, but a
queer loneliness smote her at John
Clayton's inattention. He was very
busy.
These people. used to artificial amuse-
ments, like squirrels freed from their
little cages. wandered about. unable to
amuse themselves-dull. pitifully I'M
joyous in the glad SreenneSs not in
tune with the great out of DOORS
He saw he would have to fuse the
Dtragglers into oneness
John Clayton gave n shout Mt them.
"Here, you all. Who's going TO eaten
some fish? Who'll make fire? Doyle, /
why don't you try n canoe? Wake upr' |
He got them all to work, all at play. |
They began to enjoy themselves. And !
then out near the middle of the little |
lake Doyle and the little stenographer |
upset themselves, and yell went up |
for help. One of the clerks began tax
ing Off his shoes. but John CLAYTON
dashed into the bushes and in a mo-
ment was out in bathing trunks. first /
wading. then swimming. toward the
two
1t was small work TO drag them in,
sputtering and ludicrous, to be dried |
out by their now hilarious friends.
When John Clayton again emerged
from the thicket. clad and happy. he
went straight 10 where she stood wiring