Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1914-03-05
CHAPTER XVI
J1NNEE OF THE TA1LoR-MADD.

CHAPTER XVI
JINNEE OF THE TAILOR-MADE.
Miss Vance met Harlan one after
noon of mid August. He stopped his
saunter across the courtyard lawn to
help her hitch her span of fractions
colts. She pressed a handkerchief to
her flushed face.
THANK you! You loo SO awfully
cool. Harlan. And clean! You've been
driving, too-and look at mel"
His leisurely smile followed her in
terested glance. 1t was their first meet
ing since he had announced his can
didacy for the district attorneyship-
q brief announcement. coming after an
equally brief conference with the party
leaders. The outside information was
had selected young Mr.. Van Hart as
the best and most representative young
man of the county to give strength to
the old-line ticket against the new
progressive league. There was some
comment on his youth and lack Of ex-
perience, but it was regarded as a
shrewd move. nevertheless. Of the old
court house ring. County politicians
said there would be none to contest
young Mr.. Van Harris nomination or
election.
Now. Miss Vance looked him over
and sighed. Il feel a grudge against
you. Harlan! I wish fortune would
Everything comes so easily to you. But
this is mere envy. isn't it?"
He smiled and walked with her to
the News office. The sense of his
rugged fineness and clean truth gripped
her as 1t must all women.
your battle will come after you're
elected. Harlan. They-they will ex-
pect to use you as they do" she hes
ttated. She had been about to say
your father" and then knew better.
Harlan had the same charm of breed
ing as his father; but the county ring
years; it u its strength among the
best people"
Nobody owns me. Janet" He found
amusement in her caution. "And as
for politics. here is Arne, and those
other l%ong-born students, travelling
over the county trying to interest the
farmers in seed selection. The state
board pay their way. but now. really,
aren't they out to talk politics for the
governor and our eccentric friend,
Wiley T. Curran?"
She smiled in turn. She was too
practical minded to be sensitive over
the methods by which any movement
Of party interest was attained. When
they reached the News door Mr.. Cur
ran was standing there. a galley Of type
In his hand. He waved to the pros
pect past the town, a squirt of yellow
stubble. like a flame licking down from
the upland corn which was now high.
II can smell the tassel bloom" mur-
INJURED Wiley, and the damp cloddy
earth. and hear the rustic of the blades
IN the breeze off the river. Bless me,
l was about to knock off and steal
away to h hills. but here you two
come. abominably suggesting work.
And mhifiNn-ond ooh1oxor~1-kyp -
Indeed we dol" Janet smiled at his
whimsical grimace. And to remind
you what the papers said OF your
speech at the Dallas county fair. Bril-
liant aggressive eloquent"
Ills grimace deepened. Through the
He had astonished every one as a cam
paigner; tricky" his opponents said,
but winning by his likableness. He had
been filled with g boys delight to find
that he could really speak in public
that his old nervous hesitance had gone
mercurial enthusiasms. Out in the 9TH
er counties he had won dashingly; but
among his home people. he confided to
Janet. he was a lame duck"
He could not explain that. She knew
It was because here they had seen his
purpose. his hope. his imaginative life
come to nothing. He was of that type
of which the towns M provincial cit
les have many-a person whose chaste
tastes. intellectual aspirations and So
cial qualities had starved under the
stress of making a livelihood. Ideas.
finer achievement. all bartered with the
standards fixed by q vulgar need. Ia
net herself had felt the Impact: sha
knew his battle. And SO long he had
given up! And 50 late had arisenl He
seemed to have forgotten his useless
years. his defeats. he had gone out
among men. and they had honored him.
Today he was in one of his ''slumps."
Janet went on with her ingenious en-
couragement. II wish you knew what
a rare mystery you are to the ountry
people. INC nov splendidly they be-
lieve in you! You're a new sort Of
politician. And I'm very proud. Wiley!"
He looked at her. THE fool editor
lie mourned-"I wonder If I spoke here
-as I must some time-who'd turn
out to listen? You and Aunt Abby, and
my printer. and doubtless the under
taker." He sighed n waved his hand
out to the town. Some times the old
feeling comes back. / don't belong here.
I'm the mistit, Janet. The dreamer
he let his eyes go off to the summer
land. 1t was too rich; never had 1t
his epic song-never from this would
come the watchers Of lawns. II think,
sometimes. even now. that I ought to
be q starving poet in a garnet. Eth,
then, Janet! I'd do some thing He
came to Harlan with his direct affec-
tton and put a hand upon the shoulder
of the younger I'D like to be