The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1915-10-28
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CHAPTER xXI-{CoNTINuED)

CHAPTER xXI-(CoNTINuED).
She started. He is-he isn't dead?.
The whispered, bleak w in her eyes.
suddenly h realized what Adam
cars death would mean to Eric. Her
heart gave a bound of hope, of ex-
altatlon. The only witness! why
why, II he were only dead, she began,
posltive thrill in the voice, only to
lnd the words dying on her lips. She
aualied before the look in his eyes. "Oh,
what a brutal thing to say!" she cried,
putting her hands to her cheeks and
ttarlng at him with shamed eyes. How
selfish | ami! What a little beast!'
He looked bewildered. Il don't under
stand all this" he said. He isn't dead,
scious Of the a%ppellation. That's the
worst or 1t. Better off a thousand fold
imam the way he is. He can keen a
secret, you say. All, he can that! l
know how we'll he can keep a secret.
he mas never betrayed my secret. Not
= "ora from him-not a single word.
he VIII die without breathing it to
a soul. Ten thousand devils could not
choke or beat 1t out Of him. He would
die. ten thousand deaths in agony
rather than say the thing that would
huft me. And now he is lying in there.
Volceless and But what is this I'm
saying? 1 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 at
the motionless curtains, as if expecting
lnehl 20 part and. reveal a thing of hor-
ror. Il can't stay here. What is If?
What has happened? For heayen,s
sake. tell me at once. 1 shall scream
She was edging farther away from
him.
Come outside" he said quickly.
inns is no place for you, dear"
he was moving toward the door, but
she stopped him with a word.
Wait"
After a moments hesitation, she
Withdrew her gaze from the curtains
n turned to look at him. st will go
away. Jack, dear, for a little while.
forglVe me for disturbing you. OF
course, l could not have known. You
are needed here. You cannot leave. |
Will go away. T."
Il can let you go until 1 Il know what
has happened he urged. Don't be
afraid. Tell me. 1 can be of no service
to-to him" with a jerk of his head
toward the inner room. HE doesn't
heeo me. NY mother-she wants me to
De near at hand in case--in case Of
Well o know what I mean. He's very
low. He may die-like this and he
snapped his fingers sharply in Illus
tratlon. It's as bad as that. Stay!
we ian go into her sitting room. In
mere. Mary. 1t used to be my den when
l lived at home. We can talk in
he stopped, struck by her appearance.
Listen" she whispered. do you
hear? Is that's that his breathing?
oh. how horrible!"
Come. he said resolutely, taking her
by the arm. She suffered herself to be
led into the little room off the parlor.
III Took her To a cnfD 1,y IN ,r;,- 80,
ana sat down beside her, suddenly
clasping her cold little hand in his.
Don't mind me- he said, his voice
breaking. what can 1 do-for you 2"
She cringed. How can 1 ask any
thing of you a moment ago l
was rejoicing in h hope that Adam
that your-Oh, Jack, l can't say it!
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, L am what you think, but don't
say it" He covered his eyes with his
free hand, the other crushing her fin
gers in a grip of despair.
h raised his hand to her lips. His
fingers elaxed. He uncovered his
eyes to stare at her in ond
Il Q YOU. just he same" she de-
clared.
~ Stdileu up. Iood Goa. NO!
You must never say that again
never!"
But I dol" she insisted. always,
Jack-always."
He sank back, the fierce light in his
eyes giving way to one of compassion.
Then he said, duly, drearily:
You will think differently when
you've had time, dear. l shall not hold
you to those dear words. Now, let's
deal with the present. What has
happened"
She old him in as few words as
possible. In the end, she cried out
bitterly:
we haven't so much to be proud
Of. have we? Nothing to be set up
about, Jack dear"
He was touched by the abject hu-
mility in her voice and manner. Her
news had not produced in him the SEN
sation OF surprise n horror she ex-
pected. lie had listened intently. but
without a trace of excitement. This
was q mans affair, and John Payson
was schooled 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 in the
depths and on the heights, and he had
learned his lesson in the study OF
human emotions not so much through
the 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, even to himself.
for the simple reason that he passes
1t by without stopping. He has no
se~lf-recognized level; he avoids it
because it is a commonplace state fit
only for imbeciles.
John Payson had the power to
RnalyZe despair. He knew that the
breath Of a fair wind invariably blew
warm against it and that the spirits
went up as the mercury goes; a,
bleak wind 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
momen would fly before the rush OF
hope and confidence.
He had seer the gloom of despair
lift from the faces of men whose for
tunes were at the lowest ebb at the
cheerfully uttered sentence: We'll,