Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1914-01-29

hummed an old melody, for Wiley
was always happy when ne worked,
his shift of fortune-it was
brain clearing, and the clank of the
old machine always soothed. Up over
the dusty front windows he saw the
tops of the trees in the square silvered
by the moon, and the weather vane on
the county building. Sunday nights the
lay in deep peace-only the
Gem restaurant, Home Cooking-Ch1-
cago Style" was lighted, save for the
blur of the bank window where an in
showed the vault front to
Bee if he CHANGED to be out OF
bed.
He vas distinctly surprised. to have
Aurelie come in-and yet not sur
prised; he had a notion that he must
have been thinking Of her. He rubbed
his inky hands on a spoiled handful
and took hers. Why, Aurelie!" He
OF sugar leaves. Been moon-gazing
up on Eagles point again?"
Il ran off," she answered, and sat
down with a sigh. He saw a culver
on her features-a grimace as If she
wanted to cry and would not. Seems
like nothing but trouble comes OF it
all, Mr.. Curran."
Ran off ?" He smiled. Not very far,
Aurelie; and I'm glad O a to me"
"Oh, Mr.. Curran--don't make a joke
Of it. Poor little Peter was SO scared.
I had a quarrel and. left everybody
and I'm not going back. And ! just
came to you, for you're the only friend
I've got"
II hope I am one, anyhow" The edi-
tor nodded his young-old head. Some
how, I expected you'd have trouble.
John-when he heard Of it"
What hurts me is Uncle Michigan.
He can't hardly get about any more.
And it will just kill him."
Wei fix it up, Aurelie. You stay
Michigan can hobble down. How's the
legm
got Rheumatism in the other one. MI.
Curran"-she sat forward Frightening,
and unfolding her hand, dropped a bit
Of crushed paper on the table-"there's
the prize! A check-s100!"
never possessed two in her whole life.
The editor sat staring at it. Poor
little prize.
It's a shame" muttered Mr.. Cur
ran-"they ought to give you a mill
lion. But it's just a newspaper graft
to work up circulation. Just advertis-
ing, Aurelie. They think the glory is
enough for you"
II don't want any glory. 1 want a
cork leg-for Uncle Michigan. Like
the one in the catalogue Hen McFet-
ridge gave him. Do cork legs cost
IT think so. One Of those legs that
bend and twist and seem as good as a
meat one-yes, sir, Tn afraid they do,
Aurelie."
You put this check away, Mr., 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 the beauty
prize. He put it in his pocketbook
money in-I don't know when! It's
just grand Of you, Aurelie, to think of
Uncle Mich. And SO you're really go
ing on the stage?"
II guess SO. I'm sick Of everything.
The letters l get, and all this publicity
its just upset me, Mr.. Curran. And
Harlan, ne went away"-she looked off
and left me"
Mr.. Curran sighed. For his life he
could not have asked her further, but
with an instinct for her underf1ow of
trouble, he knew. Youth was not SO
far away from him-nay, it was crying
in his heart. He wished guiltily she
would say more of this amazing SUM
mer He loved Harlan as he
had loved few.
Sometime I'll tell YOU" she went
on; but now just want you to tell me
what to do"
About going on the stage?"
yes"
Wiley rubbed his head. What he
knew Of the stage was not much. II
suppose o must do something. And
the McFetridge boys-well, honestly. L
think they're straight, down in their
hearts. They're pretty near impossible
and rought, m~aybe-but some way, I
don't think bad of EN-" Mr.. Curran
never thought bad Of any one even Ole
Thad. He was always ~apologizing for
Old Thad to Arne Vance's denuncia-
tons. And / can't blame you, Au-
relie"-he looked off above the silent
park-"the towns no place for you-
perhaps for no one who's young and
eager to live" He sighed-"I know
how 1t is . I had my fling" He
her hands and drew them across
the desk: I'm going to take a great
responsibility. I'm going to tell you
go"
YES, I'm glad! I like you, Mr.. Cur
ran. You make me feel that you had
trouble, too-and weren't afraid, and
were misunderstood. And so I'm go
ing"
That's right. And be a good little
girl, Aurelie, and don't let 'em spoil
you"
And some day I'll come back and
play in the tin opera house,
And they laughed. They went out
through the dingy old shop and up the
path in the moon light, he holding her
hand, both laughing. She seemed so
like himself-he could understand all
that she could not say.
Aunt Abby listened, and then set
them out Banbury tarts and milk.
misunderstanding glad you've come
back again-and to us in your trouble.
And IL you want to go b. an
actress and marry m%illionaires, so
there-go do 1t, and don't mind
what this town says" Aunt Abby
was a vigorous, broad-faced old
Philistine and a great cook. Wiley had
found her s;n his wanderings, sitting on
the tongue of her prairie schooner,
watching a dead mule that she had de-
pended on to take her out Of the Da-
kotas when the chinch bugs, ate the
wheat. and she had abandoned her
claim. She had kept house for him
ever since. fat. decently go, and filled
with huge chuckles. And the laughter
came back to Aurelie's eyes that night,
though she did lie awake wondering
about Uncle Michigan good thing
about wooden legs was that one couldn't
get rheumatism in them.
Wiley grumbled Aunt Abby, when
Aurelie was in bed-"that girl is suf-
fering ' she's terribly in love
with somebody"
Yes" he answered mournfully, pull
ing off his shoes in h doorway. I'm