The Lakeland evening telegram., 1914-08-14

upon his nancee.
Il suppose it is not necessary to let
her know before the marriage takes
place he said 81 would rather it had
the aspect of a-surprise."
Certainly not, Mr. Phayre." an
swered the old lawyer How much is
the sum you were thinking Of settling
on Miss Baird?"
One hundred thousand dollars" an
swered John.
"A large sum Mr. Phayre," suggest
ed the lawyer. rubbing his hands
thoughtfully.
1T will still leave me a hundred
thousand of my own" John Phayre
replied
Well, Mr.. Phayre, don't want to
dissuade you, but-well, often man
acts impulsiyely and regrets it after
ward"
81 shall not regret it," answered
John. Please draw up the settlement
in such way as to make it absolutely
irrevocable in case change my mind
or-die."
The lawyer drew up the settlement
and John left him. He went to his
bank and drew out hundred thou
sand dollars in notes. This he mailed
to Himself at a post Office in the West.
Nobody at Shoshone Station knew
anything of John Phayres eastern
connections.
Then John went back to the hotel.
Are you going fishing again, John?"
inquired Dorothy affectionately, put
ting her arms round him. Il wish you
wouldn't fish above the weir, John.
T., You know a guido was killed there
last fall, when his boat drifted over
the rapids"
"Oh, can take care of myself, Dor
othy," answered John, smiling. Il
wish you cared for fishing, Dorothy.
After we are married ] shall initiate
you into the joys Of fly fishing"
1t was something Of an effort to
John to play the game. And the real
izaton that the girls affection for him
WAS a simulated one made it doubly
hard. But at last he was gone, and
half an hour later, he sat in his boat
above the weir. casting his line.
lie fshed for about two hours,
thinking hard. As every fly fisherman
knows, the sport is conducive to men
tai exercise. lie had fully made up
his mind when the two hours were
ended and five large trout lay In the
boat. He would go back to Shoshone
Station.
The thought of Inez was curiously
insistent with him that day, lgno-
rant9 Unlettered? At least she was
the type of woman who would always
be true to her chosen mate. And he
must give Dorothy to the man she
loved. Poor little Dorothy! He was
able to think of her now without a
shadow of regret. He had loved her,
but the discovery of her love for Ar
mold had shown him that his heart lay
westward, where he had once thought
II lay The faces Of lnez and Dorothy
rose up before his mental eye, as in
picture He scanned them carefully.
He saw himself and Dorothy, he grow.
ing old, she approaching the mature
beauty Of middle life, discOntented
trying TO fight down her dissatsiac.
tiOn with life-then lnez and the
placid current of their life together
on the great plains.
He threw his hat into the boat and
put on a cap which he had brought In
his pocket, He put his fishing tackle
into the boat also Then, with his
knife, he cut the rope that tied the
craft to the tree trunk. Afterward
holding the severed end in his hands
J he frayed the strands 80 that the rope
, should seem to have snapped rather
than to have been cut.
Having done this he released it and
let it glide down the stream, and stood
watching it.
1t drifted slowly, gathering impetus
Then the river bore it faster upon its
breast, and it spun no more, but head.
ed straight forward toward the treach
} erous rapids beneath him. Faster and
faster; now it was going full speed
= toward the rocks. How like his life!
How like Johns life!
1t shot forward as swiftly as an
arrow, stopped for a moment, spun
broadsde on, and then, poising itself
upon the brink, 1t leaped down among
the foamy boulders to the placid lake
below.
John stood and looked after 1t. The
irreyocable act was done. There was
no going back now.
J And he did not want to go back. He
) had set Dorothy free After a decent
7 interval of mourning she would marry
Arnold The hundred thousand dol.
lars that he had settled upon her
would be quite secure. 1t would af-
ford the lovers a comfortable income,
and leave something over for old
b Baird.
John Phayre smiled contentedly as
he sat upon the banks and let the
warm sun stream on his face.
An hour later he rose to his feet and
made his way across country five
miles, to where the Transcontinental
halted to take on water. As he reached