The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1915-01-27
Louis JOSEPH Vance
We'll, what them"
We can carry her, can't we?"
CHAPTER XIX.

AIIer lonesome progress from the
boat, Rose at length slipped from the
seat formed by the clasped hands of
the two men. And it was me who
suggested this."
The girl responded with a quiet
laugh of the most natural effect imag-
inable-until it ended in a sigh, and
without the least warning she crum-
pied upon herself, and would have
fallen heavily, in dead faint, but for
Also's quickness.
Good Lordf" Barcus exclaimed, as
Alan gently lowered the inert body of
the girl to the sands. And to think
] didn't understand she was so nearly
all in-chaffing her like that; I'd like
to kick myself"
Don't be impatient" Alan advised
grimly; I'm busy just at present. but
Meantime, you might fetch
some water to revive her"
1t was an order by nc means easy
to fill; Barcus had only his cupped
hands for a vessel, and little water
remained in them by the time he had
dashed from the shadows back to the
spot where Rose lay unconscious,
while the few drops he did manage
to sprinkle into her face aVailed moth
ing toward rousing her from the
trance-like slum bers of exhaustion into
which she passed from her fainting
fit. -.
In the end Alan gave up the effort.
She's all right" he reported, releas-
ing the wrist whose pnlse he had been
timing. "She tainted, right enough,
but now she's just asleep-and needs
it, God knows! 1t would be kinder
to let her rest, at least until see what
sort Of a reception that lighthouse is
inclined to offer u.s.
You'll go, them" Barcus inquired.
I'D just as lief, myself -
mo; let me-" Alan insisted. Its
not far-not more than a quarter of
mile. And she'll be safe enough here,
in your care, the little time I'm gone"
Barcus nodded His face was drawn
God!" he breathed brokenly, you're
able. I'm not
He sat down suddenly and rested his
head on his knees. Don't be longer
than you can help" he muttered
thickly.
the lighthouse itself before the ground
began to shelve more gently to the
beach; and was on the point of adj
dressing himself to the dark and silent
cottage of the lightkeeper when he
paused, struck by eight of what till
then had been hidden from him.
The promontory, he found, formed
the eastern extremity of a wide-armed
If shallow harbor where rode at moor
ings considerable number of small
craft-pleasure vessels assorted about
equally with fishing boats. And barely
an eighth of mile on, long-legged
wharves stood knee-deep in the water,
like tentacles flung out from the sleepy
little fishing village that dotted the
rising grOund-a community of per-
hape two hundred dwellings.
Nor was this ali--even as Alan hove
In view of the village he heard series
of staccato snorts, the harsh tolling of
a brazen bell, the rumble of a train
pulling out from a station. And then
he saw its jewelstring of lights flash
athwart the landscape and vanish as
its noise died away diminuendo.
Where one train ran another must.
He need only now secure something
to revive Rose, help her somehow up
the beach, and in another hour or two,
Of a certainty, they would be speed
Ing northwards, up the cape, toward
Boston and the land of law and order.
Such thoughts as these, at least,
made up the texture of his hopes; the
outcome proved them somewhat too
presumptuous. He logged down a
quiet village street and into the rail
road station just as the agent was clos
ing up for the night.
A surly citizen, this agent, ill-pleased
to have his plans disordered by chance
flung strangers. He greeted Alan's
breathless query with a grunt of In
grained churlishness.
"Nah," he averred, they amt no
more trains till mornin'. Can't " see
I'm shuttin' up?"
But surely there must be tele-
graph station"
you bet your life they is-right
here in this depot. An I'm shuttin' it
up, too"
Has the operator gone for the
night?"
He's going. I'm the OPERATOR. No
business transacted after Office hours.
Call raound at eight o'clock tomor-
row mornin' Now If you'll Jest step
out Of that door, Ill say g'd-night to
YOU"
But ! must send telegram" Alan
protested. Il tell you, ] must. It's
matter of life and death"
Sure, young Teller. 1t always is
after business hours
Won't you open up again"
Il tell you, mol"
In desperation Alan rammed a hand
into his trousers pocket. 'Will a dol
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