Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1916-04-07
GEORGE AGNEW CHAMBERLAIN
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itching to grip her shoulders and shake
her, but he held them at his side.
what did you do it for?" he asked
with blazing eyes.
Glenn looked him over coolly. Ever
run after anyone before, Alan?"
"What?" suffered Alan. He felt
foundations slipping from under him.
Here was a person who could look Ten
Percent Wayne at his best in the eye
and never turn a mental hair.
"How do you like it?" continued
Glen in an even, firm voice. Then she
turned her square back to the saddle
and faced him fairly. I'm tell you
wat did it for. All my life I've been
running after you. Last night 1 heard
you packing. l knew what you were
doing-you were getting ready to go
away. Before you went I wanted you
to run after me-just once. A sort
of consolation prize to pride"
Alan's face hardened. "Stop, Glen.
You can't talk like that to me and you
can't talk like that to yourself" He
looked at Glen and the blood surged
into his neck and face. At that mo-
ment Glenn was beautiful to him be-
yond the widest dreams of fair
women. She was dressed in a close
fitting long coat that buttoned down
the front. Her riding skirt of the
same dark stuff. she had hitched up at
Ci6n fn q cilvnr hnnl- From undoT
the raised skirt peeped a straight rid
ing boot and on the heel of the boot
was a tiny, right-angle spur. Alan's
quick eyes hung on that spur; it ex-
planned the lead Glen had held through
the headlong ride.
Clem's right arm was still hooked
over the double horn of her saddle
and her left hand holding a slim rid.
ing whip hung at her side. To the vel
vet lapels of her coat clung little drops
of rain. Her hair was braided and
firmly tied in a double fold at the back
of her neck, but short strands had
escaped from durance and played
about her head. Her head, like the
velvet lapels, was busted with little
silvery drops of water and little drops
of water perched on her long, upturned
lashes. Her cheeks were flushed, her
bosom agitated, her lips tremulous
Only her eyes were steady.
Alan took off his coat and threw 1t
over a rock. "Will you please sit down:
I must talk to you"
Glen strobe to another rock and sat
down. "You are absurd. Your coat
is as wet as the stones. Put it on"
Alan hesitated. Put your coat on"
Alan obeyed: then he sat down be,
fore her, but turned his eyes away and
gazed rather vacantly over the whole
wet world. ''If ever two people have
known each other without words,
Glen, it's you and me. Never mind
the grammar. Even unshackled words
are dribbling outlet for full heart
and my hearts as full today with
things I've never said to you as the
clouds are with rain.
Mature, taken by and large, is a
funny outfit, and the funniest things in
it are the ones that make you want
to cry. The world sees a good man,
clean and straight, married to a faith
less woman and laughs. Men see a
pure girl give her all to a cad, and
they say, It's always the rotters that
get the pick and they laugh too. But
down in the bottom of our hearts we
know that these things are things for
tears"
"Yes, Alan" said Glen as he paused
She was no longer imperious, only at.
tentive, with chin in hands and elbows
on knees.
"You know me-" went on Alan, "but
there are things about me that you do
not know-things below you that you
have no understanding for, thank God
don't even know how to picture them
to you"
Eyes, Alan," said Glen softly.
Alan picked a bit of huckleberry
bush and twisted it nervously in his
hands. First of all I've got to tell
you what l thought you knew, that
what there is of me is yours over and
over again, and then I've got to tell
you why you can't have it." A light
came into Clem's eyes, trembled, flick
cred. and then settled to a steady
flame.
you've seen people smile-everyone
has a smile of Sorts" went on Alan.
"Did you ever think that a smile had
q body and soul? To me it has. It
starts out in life like a virgin with a
body to keep pure and soul to guard
unstained. There are smiles that illu-
mine a face, that shine with essential
purity, that glorify. Nobody has to
tell you that they have never pandered
to a ribald jest or added cruelty to de-
NAL. They are live smiles and they
are rare among women and rarer
among men. For one such you'll find
a thousand living faces with dead
smiles-smiles that have scattered
their essence like rain on the just and
the unjust, that have rolled in filth and
wasted their substance on the second
best. You'll find them Pickering out
in the faces of young men and at the
last gasp in the faces of lost women
whose eyes hold the shadows of unfor-
gotten sins"
"Well?" 49, 80