Bismarck daily tribune., 1915-12-22

She had slid about fifty feet when
her outstretched, frantically-grasping
hand closed around = tough twiG
deep rooted in tho earth. She stopped
abruptly, luckily having caught :
Grip there, for Z few feet below hs7
the slope stopped. abruptly cn .
chasm yawnias wide.
She looked appeali1gly, besesch-
ingly at her husband, shrunk tight.
horror-stricken against the wall
Her plight, however. was not affect.
ing her reason. as she thought when
she was aware of his change Of ex.
preston: the change was actual, and
due to the fact that his ear had caught
the sound Of approaching footsteps
along the hard, narrow path. These
footsteps became more and more dis
tinct, until man appeared around
the bend In the trail. This man was
Paul Reed.
At first he saw only Scott, dread.
fully pale and nervous looking; then,
following Scott's gaze down the clih-
side, he went icy cold with terror for
z moment. Had he been better bred.
had the same blue blood which 30
distinguished Alfred Scott flowed in
his veins, his terror might have last.
ed indefinitely, and Anita have plunged
into the bottomless canyon. But he
was vulgar, emotional, impulsive, and
his poor brain, z product of centuries
of nondescript admixture, took in the
situation comprehensively, and had
only realized the one course open a
moment before his unpoised body had
started to crawl carefully down to
where Anita held on with last des.
pairing grip.
In a moment his strong grip was
around her, and he began slowly.
warily, laboriously, to fight his way
back to the path. scott's panic, mean
time, had abated considerably, and
continued to abate the nearer the man
and his burden came, and when they
were almost to the edge of the trail.
halfway over 1t in fact, he bent and
relieved Paul of Anitas weight, Paul
managing to drag himself exhausted
to the road.
She turned simply and said, THANK
you, Paul." She could say no more.
So. taking Scott's proffered arm, she
walked slowly away. leaving Paul
standing puzzled, incomprehending, in
the middle OF the trail.
vi.
John HUFF was tired Of waiting.
Huff was the tobacconist, creditor OF
Alfred Scott, whom Scott, few days
previously had silenced in his demands
for payment by telling him that he
would shortly be betrothed to Anita
Logan, when his various debts would
be settled.
It was the morning of the second
day that he called at the Logan man.
sion and learned that Anita had gone
up into the mountains with her sister.
to spend a week there. Accordingly,
he. took the first train, and by noon
arrived at the hotter In which Ann ana
her sister were stopping. He learned
there that Ann and the young man
lately appointed astronomer at the
mountain observatory had left a half
hour ago for a walk down the noun;
tain side, and he set out Immediately,
to overtake them. .,
The life.saving incident of the day;
before, and Anita's cold. formal
THANK you," had been q bit too much
for Paul Reed.
He had some important duties to
attend the next morning, and could
not free himself OF them until eleven
o'clock He then set out for the noun
tain hotel, only half mile distant, his
spirit troubled, his mind anxious and
on the defensive against maze of
complications he scented but knew
nothing of definitely.
VIII.
He met her alone, on the porch.
Bess and Scott had gone for q walk
together.
"Good morning, Ann"-awkwardly.
She came forward, her lips silent,
her eyes eloquent, and held out her
hand to him. Together, as by pre-
arranged understanding, they started
to walk away from the house.
II say, you haven't forgotten, Ann?
You promised you'd let me know. oh,
Ann, don't you love me?'
His warm, magnetic personality that
personality which had always made
her fearfully glad, now again woke in
her that feeling Of infinite affinity
which no personal effort could over.
come.
She looked up at him, her eyes
liquid and pain-drawn.
"1t can never be, Paul." she said
half chokingly.
He was about to ask that fearful
"Why?' when they became conscious
of a man approaching them. 1t was
Huff.
He. came up, hat in hand, and bow
Ing respectfully, said to Ann, Miss
Logan, my name is Huff-John HUFF;
I'm a tobacconist in town, and a
creditor of Alfred Scott's. Not large
creditor-not nearly as large as some
OF them-but then I'm only a small