The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1916-03-23
WHITE ACRES
BY EDWINA FAxoN.

spite OF her bravery tears welled up
in Kathleen's eyes. She had turned
a corner and come in sight Of the
old house, desolate in the midst Of o
dreary late November landscape, and
the house brought back recollections
that were hard to bear.
A touring car stopped at the gate
and a man got out. Miss Lowell, ]
believe" he said.
"Yes!", she answered abruptly.
He came up on to the veranda be.
side her. Il am Horace Davidson.
and l represent the Burlington and
Hartwell road. But I've no doubt you
have already guessed my identity.
I'm sorry if kept you waiting. We
had a blowout. Deucedly cold, isn't
it? Shall we go inside?"
1T is colder in there. Besides, our
business is outside, believe"
The wind was screaming so he had
to stand quite close to catch her
words. AN uncommonly pretty girl,
by Jove," he said to himself.
A shrill whistle sounded in the dis
lance, and both turned quickly. A
big interurban trolley car appeared
around the curve of the road and sped
on a raised track across the open
space below them.
The suit comes up next week. I
believe" began Kathleen.
Unless you change your mind and
have 1t withdrawn"
Why should II"
ITO begin with, don't think you
have much chance"
rs there no justice in the world.
then? What are courts for?"
Justice" he answered. mo Judge
can see why a strip of track should
do any damage to a farm"
Perhaps he can see 1t II 1t is ex-
planned to him that the road got its
right Of way under false pretense, that
the track cut my fathers farm in two
to begin with, and that the raising Of
it made 1t impossible to pasture O
herd Of cows on one side with the
barn on the other. A culvert would
have cost us two thousand dollars,
and the company wouldn't pay 1t.
Further, when he saw in despair that
his big dairy farm was ruined, began
to have visions Of a summer hotel
and petitioned the company for a sta
ton. But that was refused, too. He
was ruined financially and in health.
He was too old to stand the blow,
and he died."
Horace Davidson was silent awhile.
Then, Why don't you sell the placer"
II would If I could. No one will
have it with that ugly raised track in
the wrong place"
He saw that she was shaking with
emotion and cold. Miss LOWELL" he
said more kindly, after all it was
foolish Of me to ask you to meet me
out here. We can talk better in my
office in town."
The next morning, Horace Davidson
was having trouble about a button
which had disappeared from his over
coat.
Evelyn" he begged his married
sister, will you sew button on my
overcoat if you happen to have any.
thing at all that will match?"
Such shiftlessness! Where's your
tailor? Take it up to the sewing
room, the proper place for such oper.
atoms. You'll find someone there"
So Horace went upstairs and along
a hall to a remote corner of the great
house, where he had a vague idea the
sewing room was. An open door
through which light shone and the
faint whir of a machine were his
guides, and he soon found himself
watching girl, her head and Shout
ders bent over the machine, a dark
island in pillows upon pillows of
snowly-wbite stuff
II beg your pardon" said Horace
The whir stopped and the girl
looked around. 1t was Kathleen Low.
ell. She sprang up, instantly recog.
nizing him. Mr. Davidson! How
you startled me- Won't you sit
DOWN."
destined to meet in white acres, al
though l must say this landscape is
warmer than the last one. To ex-
plain my errand this time, l was told
to come here to have a button sewed
on. May beg the favor?" He held
out the coat he had been holding on
his arm.
Kathleen flushed Certainly. I'll
do it right away. Have you the but.
TOM"
No. l thought maybe there might
be one around that would match"
I'm afraid not. They are very odd.
Oh, believe-Why, yes! found one
in the station yesterday and put 1t in
my bag. It's up in the schoolroom
with my things. I'll get it. You see,
I'm the children's governess."
He looked his surprise and inquiry.
This is extra-you see!" she ex-
planned. Il teach days and sew nights"
"And all fhia hanouoa Tho rnod y.o ~