Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1915-11-12
XIII.
The Red Bar on the Waters.

A day later Miss OrdWay packed an
expensive bag of real alligator and
made ready for a departure. !
I'm going to Salem, partner" she
said. IF Hampden gets anxious
enough to inquire openly, tell him I'm
after-cIothes."
She smiled to herself, thinking of
those millions of trees. For it's own
sake, the pursuit of Hampden was be-
ginning to enthrall her professional
instinct, but there a a flicker eff
passion under her lashes, a sleepy look
of anticipation, as she glanced side
wise at Sandry on the step beside
her.
Il may be away a week-maybe a
month. I'll drop you a line occa-
sional1y."
A yearning sense of loss and loneli.
ness gripped Sandry as he took her
hand at parting, lending to his clasp
an unwonted tightness, and to his
voice a sense of huskiness. She was
home and the things thereof, this
woman who was an orchid among the
pines, and with her going went some
thing he had scarcely realized, yet
which he would sorely miss.
The camp seemed more than usually
dreary in the days that followed. The
fog ribbons twined and twisted con.
tinually along the hills, the pines
brought their marching ranks closer
in upon the shrinking valley, and San
dry was taken with an acute attack of
the blues.
"S'letz," he said abruptly as he met
the girl one noon at the pump, will
you ride with me tomorrow? It's Sum
day and we can take a lunch. What
do you say?"
She did not meet his eyes, her own
somber ones glancing down the slough.
Eyes," she said quietly.
They were up betimes the following
morning. Ma Daily cooked an early
breakfast and Sandry sat down for the
first time with the girl at table. Con-
versation languished until a gentle
tread sounded on the floor and the
Preacher came in, his delicate face
aglow from the touch of icy water.
John Daily, too, numbered in at the
same moment.
"Sleep we'll, father?" he asked.
"As always, son. The lowering OF
Gods hand is like the sound of many
wings-hushing-ah, so hushing. Isn't
it so,-ah-ah-I have forgot"
The pathetic, childlike eyes searched
Sandry's face in straining inquiry.
What is it l would remember? ?" he
asked plaintively.
Nothing, father. It is all we'll"
Siletz had pushed back the bench for
him. Now she laid her slim hand low
ingly upon his and looked in his face,
a smile curving up the lips above the
broken sign. AS the two hands lay
upon the oilcloth Sandry noticed them
-One white and fine veined and shape
ly, with the slender, pointed fingers of
a dreamer-the other olive and shape.
ly and with the same slim-pointed fin.
gers.
Alike" he unused, how very much
alike. Why, they are counterparts!"
AS he led Black Bolt to the hammer
block for Siletz to mount he heard
snatches of song from the clubhouse.
Collins was outside, stretching a fresh
deerhide against the planks.
The owner turned in his saddle and
looked back at the camp-his camp
as they trotted away down the green
valley. 1t lay snuggled tight against
the pine-clad hills, a primitive force in
a primitive country, and he thrilled to
its suggestion. AS they passed the
lower rollway he stopped and sur
veyed the brown slough, a solid floor
of logs as far as he could see, even I'M
til it lost itself between it's low, tule-
edged banks.
"Ffne!" he said aloud, "our logs are
drifting clear to the backwater at To-
Iedo. Well meet our date all right"
"Of course" said Siletz, and it was
the first word she had spoken.
AT a natural clearing they refined in
to breathe the horses, and Sandry
turned to the girl.
"Sletz," he said, tell me how it is
that you have lived all your life SO
near the ocean and have never seen 1t,
when you have wanted to so much?"
The rare smile lighted her. face and
she turned to him.
II was afraid" she said.
What? Afraid Afraid of what?"
"Of how it might look in truth. /
know how it looks in my own pictures.
lit might not-look the same"
For a moment the man wal silent
before the subtle fineness of the
thought, amazed to find it in this SIM