The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1915-09-09

'The thing which you call fascina?
ton In me was really just proxy,
Drennie. You we're liking qualities in
me that were really his qualities. Just
because you had known him only IN
gentle guise, his finish blinded you
to his courage. Because he could turu
to woman the heart of woman yOus
failed to see that under it was thel
iron and fire. You thought you saw
those qualities in me, because | wore
my bark as shaggy as that scaling
hickory over there When he was get
ting anonymous threats of death ev-
cry morning he didn't mention them
to you. He talked of teas and dances,
| know his danger was real, because
they tried to have me kill him-and
if I'd been the man they took me for,
I reckon I'd have done it. was MAD
to my marrow that night-for min
ute. / don't hold brief for Wilfred,
but know that you liked me first for
qualities which he has as strongly as
land more strongly. He's Drawer
man than I, becuse, though raised to
gentle things, when you ordered n'm
into the fight he was there. He never
turned back or f1ickered. ! was raised
on raw meat and gunpowder. but he
went in without training"
The girls eyes grew grave and
thoughtful, and for the rest OF the
way she rode in silence.
There were transformations, too, in
the house of Spicer South. Windows
had been cut, and lamps adopted. 1t
was no longer so crudely pioneer
abode. While they waited for dinner,
girl lightly crossed the stile, and
came up to the house. Adrianne met
her at the door, while Samson and
Horton stood back, waiting. Suddenly.
Miss Lescott halted and regarded the
newcomer in surprise. 1t was the
same girl she had seen, yet different
girl. Her hair no longer fell in tangled
masses. Her feet were no longer bare.
Her dress, though simple, was charm
ing, and, when she spoke, her English
| had dropped it's halfilliterate peculiari-
ties. though the voice still held Its
bird-like melody.
ooh. Samson" cried Adrienne, you
two have been deceiving me! Sally
you were making up, dressing the part
back there, and letting me patronlze
you"
Sally's laughter broke from her
throat in a musical peal. but it still
held the note of shyness, and 1t was
Samson who spoke.
81 made the others ride on, and got
Sally to meet you just as she was when
/ left her to go East" He spoke with
a touch Of the mountaineer's over-sen-
sitive pride. II wanted you first to see
my people, not as they are going to be,
but as they were. wanted you to
know how proud I am of them-just
that way"
That evening, the four of them
walked together over to the cabin or
the Widow Miller. At the stile, Ad-
rienne Lescott turned to the girl and
said:
"I suppose this place is pre-empted.
I'm going to take Wilfred down there
by the creek, and leave you two alone"
Sally protested with mountain hos
pitality. but even under the moon she
once more colored adorably.
Adrienne turned up the collar OF her
sweater around her throat, and, when
she and the man who had waited, stood
leaning ON the rail of the footbridge,
h n nT>fr1
HAS the water flowed by my mill,
Wilfred" she asked.
What do you mean?" His voice
| trembled. is@
Twill you have anything to ask me
when Christmas comes?
eff can wait that long, Drennie,"
he told her.
Don't wait, DEAR" she suddenly ex-
claimed, turning toward him, and
| raising eyes that held his answer.
Ask me now!"
But the question which he asked was
one that his lips smothered as he
pressed them against her own.
Back where the poplar threw its
sooty shadow on the road, two figures
sat close together on the top of a
stile, talking happily in whispers. A
girl raised her face. and the moon
shone on the deepness of her eyes. as
her lips curved in a trembling smile.
you've come back, Samson" she
said in low voice, "but, If I'd known
! how lovely she was, I'd have given up
hoping. / don't see what made you
come"
Her voice dropped again into the
tender cadence of dialect.
II couldn't live withouten We, Sam
son. jest couldn't do hit" Would he
remember when she had said that be-
fore?
II reckon, Sally" he promptly told
her, II couldn't live withouten you,
neither" Then, he added, fervently.
"I'm plumb dead shore l couldn't"
THE END.