The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-11-17

: N@ IT dnyCn1nS SQOukQ happen
 to me-that is, if I shouldn't turn up some morning-wire to the ad- dress on this envelope. Nothing more will be necessary. It's my mans ad-a dress, and he's the chap who'll pull me out of any trouble Thanks. I'm not coward. But these men will move in the dark. They never come out in the Hght''
 ~ Their hands touched as she took the slip of paper. Hers were icy cold
 He waited patiently for her to speak By and by he looked ar her closely. She was watching the fhsh1ight of the light out at Pidgin.
 'EYou don't think any the less of me for getting this off my conscience "'Why should I?'' An, how her heart ached, ached! Yet she spoke smoothly Some one capa- ble must do this work, and nobody works for nothing these>days, not even for patriotism. You are good deal of a boy. Perhaps you ought not to have told me. The fact that you do not like the work gives me to infer that you, still retain some of your ideals, and consider that remarkable in a man who is thirty-fve.''
 To batter along like that, she thought without a break in her voice! E
 eDrat Uncle Bfl1yn' he laughed. sNThirty-f five makes me feel like an old man. But I don't know; never feel more than twenty up in this country" '.Is there really danger?''
 'I don't know. But never mind that Don't go to Pidgin tomorrow he urged impulsively. Don't go out there, any more. It is honestly and truly dangerous. This is the time of year for the sudden north gales. They pop out of nowhere almost before you can turn he0A cn to, them. You can always ride a 'sou'wester down the river, 'nos matter how hard it. blows. but no me- torboat afoat can weather the sav- agery of these northers- white capped. short, choppy, smashing and running mile minute. I know; I was caught in one once I think I told you about it.''
 After ali. she was an actress, con summate.
 "I am not afraid can take care of myself. love the dangez-tne game of chance. Didn't tell you that I was born at sea 2
 '.You might be the bravest woman living, but that would not be of use to you if you were caught out there'' ''Very well, after this week, then, I promise not to go out to Pidgin. Will that do?"
 'I suppose it will have to do. An, Dianar'
 'tNo, MT. Cranford''
 She stood up quickly, and of neces- sity he rose also. Just good friends. ] I know. The moonshine, the beauty of the nigf*. It gets into ones head Just friends, always. Another Sep fnT o10n7s hal TIor1 f1 we'll fish and hunt again. Please be just boy, don't spoil it. What do you know about me? Nothing. And I am not in the mood to make conti- dences. Please, just good friends"
 'I should lie if I told you I did not love you"
 q am sorry. If you cannot accept my friendship upon the basis I offer it there mustn't be any more shore din- ners.''
 'sNo hope?"
 s'None."
 ''It is simply impossible not to ask ~whyA''
 T cannot marry any man, MT. Cranford, if that will comfort you.''
 With dread foreboding he said, ''You are already married?'
 She did not answer.
 'EI cannot let you go out of my life like thisr'
 T don't want to go out of it. Friends. I am very unhappy, very lonely. Friends
 Friends. if you will have it so. But it's a jolt. This is a funny old world Ten days ago I didn't know you existed; now I'm asking you to marry me, and you belong to some one else.''
 ''But you are going to be brave about it. You're going to be the out of door friend, and some day you're going to be glad that 1 couldn't marry you"
 He wrung her hand and held it as he helped hor Un to tie road.
 (To Be ContinueG.)