The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1915-02-27

Aa4
The cabin had not Tor years been oc-
cupied. Its rooftree was leaning
askew under rotting shingles. The
doorstep was Uncovered, and the
stones Of the hearth were broken But
it lay well hidden and would serve his
purposes
Shortly, a candle nickered inside,
before a small hand mirror. Scissors
and safety razor we're for a while
| busy. The man who entered in i'm
peccable clothes emerged fifteen min
utes ater-transformed. There ap-
peared under the rising June crescent
| a smooth-faced native, clad in stained
store clothes, with rough wooden socks
showing at his brogan tops, and a
battered felt hat drawn over his face.
No one who had known the Samson
South Of four years ago would fail to
recognize him now. And the strang-
est part, he told himself, was that he
felt the old Samson
At a point where a hand bridge
crossed the skirting creek, the boy
dismounted. Ahead of him lay the
stile where he had said good-by to
Sally.
He was going to her. and
nothing else mattered.
He lifted his head and sent out a
long, clear whippoorwill call, which
quavered on the night much like the
other calls in the black hills around
him. After a moment he went nearer,
in the shadow Of a poplar, and re-
peated the call
Then the cabin door opened. It's
jamb framed a patch of yellow candle
light, and, at the center, a slender
silhouetted figure, in a f1uttering, eager
attitude of uncertainty. The figure
turned slightly to one side, and, as it
| did so, the man saw clasped in her
right hand the rife, which had been
his mission, bequeathed to her in trust
She hesitated, and the man, invisible
in the shadow, once more initiated the
bird note, but this time it was so low
and soft that it seemed the voice of a
whispering whippoorwill.
Then, with a sudden glad little cry,
| she came running with her old feet
grace down to the road.
Samson had vaulted the stile and
stood in the full moonlight. As he
saw her coming he stretched out his
arms and his voice broke from his
throat in half-hoarse, passionate cry:
'SaIIyI"
| 1t was the only word he could have
| spoken just then, but it was all that
was necessary. 1t told her everything.
For a time there was no speech, but
| to each Of them it seemed that their
tumultuous heartbeating must sound
above the night music, and the teleg-
raphy of heartbeats tells enough.
But they had much to say to each
other, and, finally, Samson broke the
silence:
did ye think I wasn't a-coming
back, SaIIy?'' he questioned, softly. At
| that moment he had no realization
that his tongue had ever fashioned
smoother phrases. And she, too, who
had been making war on crude idioms,
forgot. as she answered:
aye done said ye was comm" Then
she added a happy lie: 81 knowed
plumb shore ye'd do hit
After while she drew away and
said, slowly:
Samson, I've done kept the old
rifle-gun ready fer ye. Ye said ye'd
need it bad when ye come back, an
I've took care of it,
She stood there holding it, and her
voice dropped almost to a whisper as
she added:
IT'S been a lot of comfort to me
sometimes, because it was your'n. I
knew if ye stopped keerin' fer me ye
wouldn't let me keep tan as long
as 1 had it +" She broke on, and
the fingers of one hand touched the
weapon caressingly.
| After a long while they found time
for the less wonderful things.
81 got your letter" he said, seriously,
''and 1 came at once" As he began
to speak of concrete facts he dropped
again into ordinary English and did
not know that he had changed his
manner of speech.
For an instant Sally looked up into
his face, then with a sudden laugh,
she informed him:
81 can say isn't instead Of fhain't,
too. How did you like my writing?"
He held her of at arms length, and
looked at her pridefully, but under his
gaze her eyes fell and her face flushed
with a sudden difhdence and a new
shyness of realization She wore a
calico dress, but at her throat was
| a soft little bow Of ribbon. She was
no longer the totally unself-conscious
| wood nymph, though as natural and in
stinctive as in other days. Suddenly
she drew away from him a little, and
her hands went slowly to her breast
and rested there. She was fronting
a great crisis, but, In the first flush OF
Joy she had forgotten it She had
spent lonely nights struggling for rudi-
ments; she had sought and fought to
refashion herself, so that, If he came,
he need not be ashamed OF her. And
now he had come and, with a terrible
clarity and distinctness. she realized
how pitifully little she had been able
to accomplish. Would she pass mus
ter? She stood there before him.
frightened, self-conscious and palpi-