Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1915-10-28
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CHAPTER XNE-(CoNTINUED).

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She started. "He is-he isn't dead?'
she whispered, bleak awe in her eyes.
Suddenly she realized what Adam
Cars death would mean to Eric. Her ,
heart gave q bound Of hope, of ex-
ultation. The only witness! why
why. II he were only dead" she began,
Z positive thrill in the voice, only to
md the words dying on her lips. She
quailed before the look in his eyes. ooh,
putting her hands to her cheeks and
staring at him with shamed eyes. "How
selfish ami! What a little besst!"
He looked bewildered. II don't under
stand all this" he said. HE isn't dead,
oor Mr.: Adam" he went on, uncon-
sclous OF the appellation. THAT'S the
worst of 1t. Better off a thousand fold
than the way he is. He can keep a
secret. o say All, he can that! L
Know how we'll he can keep a secret.
he mas never betrayed my secret. Not
q word from him-not a single word.
lie Will die without breathing 1t to
a soul. Ter thousand devils could not
choke or beat it out of him. He would
die ten thousand deaths in agony
rather than say the thing that would
hurt me. And now he is lying in there.
vo1celess and But what Is this Tan
saying? I am terrifying you. my poor
little sweetheart. Ranting like a mad
man! Forgive me"
- am afraid, Jack" she whispered,
directing a look of abject terror ct
the mottonless curtains. as If expecting
'them TO part and reveal a thing of hor-
Tor. Il can't stay here. What Is 1t?
What has happened? For heavens
If" 0N"A e"n
She was edging farther away from
Come outside he SAID quickly.
This is no place for you. DEAR
He was moving toward the door, but
h stopped him with a word.
"Wait!" -
After a moments hesitation. she
Withdrew her gaze from the curtains
and turned to look at him. 81 will 20
away. Jack, dear, for a little while.
Forgive me Tor disturbing you. or
course. ! could mo- have known. You
are needed here. You cannot leave. I
VIII go away. /"
Il can't let you go until I know what
has happened" he urged. Don't be
AFRAID. Tell me. Il can be of no service
to-te him." with a Jerk of his head
toward the inner room. HE doesn't
need me. My mother-she wants me to
well, you know what I mean. HE'S very
low. He may die-like this and he
snapped his fingers sharply In illus
tration- Its as a as that Stay!
we can go into her sitting room. In
here. Mary. 1t used to be my den when
He stopped, struck by her appearance.
Listen" h whispered. "Do you
hear? Is that--is that his breathing?
Oh. how aorrible!"
Como" he said resolutely, taking her
by the arn. She suffered herself to be
led into the little room off the parlor.
He took her to a sofa by the window
and sat down beside her, suddenly
clasping her cold little hand In his.
Don't mind me" he said, his voice
breaking. What can I do-for you ?"
She crtnged. How can 1 ask any
thing OF you when a moment ago l
was rejoicing in the hope that Adam
that yourLoh, Jack. 1 can't say it!
I can't think OF him as your father.
Why-why-" her eyes were wide
with comprehension-'it means that
you are-are-"
Don't say it, dear" he broke in.
Yes, | ann what you think. but don't
say 1t" He covered his ayes with his
free hand, the other crushing her fin
gers in a grip of despair.
She raised his hand to her lips. His
fingers relaxed. He uncovered his
eyes to stare at her in wonder.
Il love you. just the same" she de-
,clared.
He started up. Good God. No!
49, "a ~ SSS1y tiIdL dSItli--
aever!"
But I do." she insisted. Always,
,Jack-always!"
He sank back, the fierce light in his
sayes giving way to one of compassion.
Then he said, DULY, drearily:
You will think differently when
you've had time, dear. 1 shall not hold
o to those dear words. Now, let's
deal with the present. What has
happened"
She told him in as few words AS
possible. In the end, she cried out
bitterly:
we haven't 80 much to be proud
OF. have we? Nothing to be set up
about, lack dear
Ee was touched by the abiect hu-
n2ility in her voice and manner. Her
ews had not produced in him the SEN
satian OF surprise and horror she ex-
pected. He had listened intently. but
without q trace OF excitement. This
was q mans affair, and John Payson
was sch0oled in the ways of men; he
came by it naturally. He had seen
other men in dire disaster, and other
women. He had seen them 10 the
depths and on the heights, and he had
learned has lesson in the study Of
human emotions not SO much through
h medium Of sentimentality as by
means OF a shrewd estimate Of the
intermediate levels. Man Is up today
n down tomorrow. His true posi-
ton is not known, ever to himself,
for the simple reason that he passes
1t by without stopping. He has no
s~elf-recognized level; he avoids it
because it is a commonplace state fit
only for imbeciies.
JOHN Payson had the power to
analyze despair. He knew thai the
breath of a fair wind invariably blew
warm against 1t and that the spirits
went up as the mercury goes: a
bleak win drives them down. The
same with joy. He had but to assure
Mary Midthorne that he would do
everything in. his power to help her
brother. and to Set about doing it, and
the despair that filled her for the
m would fly before the rush OF
hope and confidence.
He had seen the gloom Of despair
lift from the faces Of men whose for
tunes We're at the lowest ebb at the
cheerfully uttered sentence: well,
things really look better to me today
than they did yesterday"
He look the girls hand in his and
said firmly:
Nothing will come OF it, Mary.
Rest easy. Your brother is taking the
right direction at last. There is but