Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1914-02-06

~ HE 6obbs-AesS0 CampanE
CHAPTER XII.
THE ANGELS APPEAR.
1t was 10 O'clock. and. though Sun
day Mr.. Curran was running of the
last of the handbills for the A. O.. U.
w. ball. kicking the tread with his
hand. and withdrawing 1t with his left.
The rythm Of the press clank was as
exact as this shift of his body as he
thought OF the day-some day or
other-when the News could afford to
put in a motor for this drudgery. The
curtains We're drawn, for it would cost
advertising if the church people saw
him kicking the press OH Sunday night.
He hummed an old melody. for Wiley
was always happy when he worked
whatever his shift of fortune-it was
brain-clearsng, and h flank OF the
old machine always soothed. Up over
the dusty front windows he saw he
tops of the trees in the square ~slivered
by the moon. Inc the weather vare on
the county building. Sunday nights the
square lay in deep peace-only tho
Gem restaurant. Home Cooking-Chi-
cago Style" was lighted. save for the
blur of the bank window where an in
BIN A0 Nt1u4S AVN W
Marshal Bee If he CHANGED to be out Of
bed.
He was distinctly surprised t o have
Aurelie come inland yet not sur
prised; he had a notion that he must
have been thinking of her. He rubbed
and took hers. why, Aurelie!" He
looked over her dress with it's girdle
OF sugar leaves. Been moon-gazing
up on Eagles point again."
." ran Off" she answered. and sat
down with a sigh. He saw a CULVER
on her features-a grimace as II she
wanted to cry and would not. Seems
like nothing but trouble ON of it
all. Mr.. Curran."
Ran off 2" He smiled. Not very far.
Aurelie: and I'm glad you ran to mo-"
ooh, Mr.. Curran-don't make a joke
Of 1t. Poor little Peter was so scared.
I had a quarrel and left everybody
I've got"
II hope I am one, anyhow The edi-
tor nodded his young-old head. Some
how, 1 expected you'd have trouble.
J~ohn-when he heard OF It"
He can't hardly get about any more
And 1t will just kill him."
We'll Ak it up. Aurelie. You stay
with us here, for q bit. and Uncle
Michigan can hobble down. How's b
Leg
got Rheumatism in the other one. Mr..
Curran"-she sat forward Frightening,
and unfolding her hand, dropped a bit
Of crushed paper O the table-"there's
tho prize! A check-$l00!"
One hundred dollars! And she had
never possessed two in her whole life.
The editor sat staring at 1t. Poor
little prize.
It's a shame" muttered MI. Cur
ran-"they ought to give you a mill
lion. But it's just q newspaper graft
to work up circulation. Just advertis-
ing. Aurelie. They think tho glory 10
enough for you"
cork leg-for Uncle Michigan. Like
the one in the catalogue Hen McFet-
ridge gave him. Do cork legs cost
$100?"
Il think 80. One Of those legs that
bend and twist n seem as good ~ a
meat one-yes. sir. I'm afraid they do.
Aurelie."
you put this check away. MI. Cur
ran. And I'm a-goin' on the stage and
save up my money and buy Uncle
Mich the best leg there is anywhere"
The editor folded up h beauty
prize. He put it. in his pocketbook
with a sigh: I've not seen SO much
AAtOA4Sy AA4 vi y nAA0" AS0 =
Just grand Of you. Aurelie. to think Of
Uncle Mich. And SO you're really go
ing on the stage?"
Il guess so. I'm sick Of everything.
The letters I get, and all this publicity
its just upset me, Mr.. Curran. And
Harlan. he went away-she looked of
and left me-"
Mr.. Curran sighed. For his life he
could not have asked her further, but
with al Instinct for her underflow Of
trouble, he knew. Youth was not 80
far away from him-nay. 1t was crying
in his heart. He wished guiltily she
would say moro OF this amazing sum
mer romance. He loved Harlan as he
had loved few.
Sometime I'll tell you" she went
on; but now I just wanty you to tell me
what to do"
About going on the staser
Wiley rubbed his head. What he
knew Of the stage was not much. II
suppose you must do something. And
the McFetridge boys--el.. honestly, /
think they're straight, down In their
hearts. They're pretty . impossible
and rought. maybe.but some vay. I
never thought bad Of any one. svsn Old
Thad. He was always apolo6ising for
Old Thad to Arne Vance's denuncia-
tons. And I can't blame you, Au-
relie"-he looked OF above the silent
park-"the towns no place for you
perhaps for no n who's young and
eager to i've" He sighed-T know
how It IL /. had my fling" He
took her hands and drow thorn across
the desk: I'm going to take . great
responsibility. Tn going to tell you
CO."
Yes. I'm glad! like you. Mr.. Cur
ran. You make me feel that you had
trouble. too-and weren't afraid, and
were misunderstood. And % I'm 60
ing"