The Ekalaka eagle. [volume] (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1909-1920, 1914-09-25
The Life Of a Willful Bow
Who Set Upon Himself the
Responsibility Of Avenging
His Fathers Murder :: ::

Qen feNelatlOn 10 his last remembrance
of his father.
George he said at length with
shaken breath, 'you was ~there-der
yer recollect how he died wantin' ter
say somethin' ter me only he couldn't
der yer reckon that was what he
was tryin' ter say?"
Hit must err been, l reckon" the
other answered.
can l jest got down on my knees
an Civ him my promise all over err
GIN David whispered. Jest all over
ergin. V thinkin' hit could be any
thin else he wanted"
Mary got up weakly from the bank
and laid her trembling hands on his
shoulders.
Dave" she said. you've flung err
way yer pistol, an l know yer keer fer
me, an now you've got err message al
most like hit was from ther dead
won't yer promise me yer won't go aft
er Kip no mO'?"
David was silent a very long time,
his mind going back to that last look
ON his fathers face; to all his argu-
ments and struggles with himself; to
Mary's pleadings and to his mothers
frantic remorse.
please, please, Dave Mary begged.
Her face had had time to lose its faint
return Of color, and to grow white and
; frightened again, and the st%orekeeper
was tidgeting anxiously.
David laid one of his hands on each
of hers as they rested on his shoulders
and looked down into her upturned
face. At last he spoke.
II promise yer, sweetheart" he said
slowly, a pause between each word,
and then he stopped and kissed her SOL
emily without passion.
Afterward the three stood looking
into one another's faces in s%ilence-the
silence after deep emotion. Save for
the steady soft roar of the rain and for
the tumultuous wind gusts, the woods
were very quiet, and the mysterious
faint mist which the wind drove here
and there seemed suddenly dropping a
curtain between the three and the out
side world. shutting them into some
strange remote chamber, even as the
revelation of Anderson Cree's message
had opened for them strange and curl
JUS chambers of their souls.
1t was George Hedrick who, first re-
covering himself, broke through the
awed silence that had settled on all
the three out there on the top Of the
wet mountain, swallowed up in its en-
shrouding mists. faced by the strange
ness of circumstances, and bewildered
by their Own emotions.
"Well," he said. Struggling up his
small shoulders and returning to IN
thing of his usual buoyancy, Eyer runs
up erginst err whole heap err funny
things in this world, an I'm mighty
glad yer do-specially on this ercasion
but hits err powerful wet mornin'
jest ter be standin' round thinkin' how
Gurus things is, an seem es we amt
none Of us what yer might call dry, I
votes we all g'home an change our
close an then take er right good think"
David and Mary shifted their posi-
tons and, drawing deep breaths, laugh
ed in weary relief, for after the long
! strain of sharp emotion it was good
and reStful to smile once more and
take things. easily, forgetting for the
time that under the blanket of the
worlds gayety there lurked always a
black, hollow eyed seriousness, which
might. at the securest moment look
suddenly and terrifyingly forth. Good
to laugh, and for the moment to forget,
for had they not laughed they might
just then have been unreasonably COM
PEELED to do just the opposite.
You po' little honey" David said
tenderly. putting his arm about Mary's
waist and supporting her as they start
ed down the mountain. "YOu pO' little
thing, you must be most dead"
Mary looked at him with wide bright
eyes. "Not so near dead es l was er
little bit ergo" she answered with a
laugh that quivered.
Walking behind them, Hedrick broke
into Il shrill whistle, a whistle of many
fourishes and much triumph, and of
exceeding Notwithstanding loud.
ness, when one remembered the ex.
IRENE smallness, not to say meager
ness of the person conducting it. A
whistle which was partly to drown to
his own ears any whispers which Da.
vid and Mary might have for each 9th.
err, was partly Il stout defiance Of the
weather's unpleasantness, but was
NOst Of all an expression of his owl
supreme satisfaction over the termina.
ton of the mornings work.
AS far as David and Mary We're con.
cerned, however, his discretion was
wasted, for they We're too subdued to
talk much, and were besides too shak.
EN- out of the usual ruts of reserve to
have greatly cared even if Hedrick
had CHANGED to overhear anything they
might have haG to say. Mary, more
over, was still so physically exhausted
that the mere effort of walking, even
with David's arm about her, required
all her strength. But, exhausted as She
was, there vas yet a joyful peace and
relief upon her-a peace such as she