The Winslow mail., 1917-08-17
; ;GIRL FROM HANkINSvILLE;
BY EARL REED sILVERs.

The canoe swept gracefully down the
last of the rapids and was guided cas-
lily to the wooded bank.
THAT is Hankinsville," remarked
Vincent Rossell, indicating cluster of
white houses about half a mile down
the river. 81 have letter of introduc-
ton to a girl who lives there, She's
fourth or fifth cousin of mine"
Austin Livingstone smiled.
You seem to have a cousin in every
port" he remarked. But this time
you haven't anything on me. I once
knew girl from Hankinsville myself" ;"
Where did you meet herr"
Down at Atlantic City two years
ago. It was during a Paul Jones at a
hotel ball. We had a wonderful dance
together, but she refused to tell me ber
name until we were properly intro
duced. She said, however, that she
came from Hankinsville. / expected
to look her up the next day, but l was
called away suddenly and haven't seen
her since"
Vincent looked interested.
Perhaps she Is the same girl I'm
looking for" he suggested. what was
she like?'
Light hair, blue eyes and red
cheeks" Austin answered.
"She may be the same one" Vincent
glanced at his watch. "The girl Tn
hunting for is Doris Osborn, but well
never find her If we don't hurry up.
Let's get to work."
For few minutes they busted them.
selves with pots and pans and Other
implements of camp life.
Supper was eaten and the dishes
washed and slowed away before an.
other thirty minutes had passed. Then
logged out in all the finery Of thei1
best campfng-trip clothes, the two mer
made their way to Hankinsville
The village was situated on the bank
Of the Delaware rivera group Of spot.
lessly clean houses clustered together
on the top Of hill. In the very cen.
ter, facing the river, stood typical
summer hotel. with the village store
dHu post OHlCS opposite.
well step in and ask the postmas
ter where the Osborns live" Vincent
announced. He'll probably be able tt
tell US better than anyone else."
They stood for moment on the steps
leading to the store. From the hote.
opposite came the sound Of merr,
voices, and as they watched a bevy OF
summer girls strolled arm in arm dowr
the broad steps of the veranda. As
they passed the two strangers one OF
them looked coyly over her shoulder
and smiled into their eyes.
Austin touched his companions arm
"Why bother looking up your frient
Doris?" he asked. "It seems to me wee
have better time If we spent the
night at the hotel"
"Well, We'll see."
Vincent's eyes were turned interest
edly down the road leading away from
the river and Austin's glance followed
the direction Of his gaze. Comins
toward them he spied a girl dressed ir
some sort Of Shimmering green. Hei
hair was the color of golden rod in the
late autumn and her arms and neck
had been tinted with the deepest tar
by the summer sun.
II have a presentiment," said Vim.
cent suddenly, "that that girl is Doris
Osborn"
'If it is," Austin answered, II don't
think we'll bother about the hotel
after ALL"
They. moved to one side as the giri
reached the steps. She glanced at them
as she passed, and nodded pleasantly
Vincent entered the store.
'Td like the Osborn MAIL" he heard
her say.
Without waiting for the postmaster's
answer, he hurried out to the porch.
Its her." he announced with the
careless disregard Of the rules of gram.
mar.
The girl reappeared, a batch Of let
ters In her hand. The two men watched
as she sorted them eagerly, selecting
three which she placed in small satin
handbag on her arm. She walked lei.
surely down the road.
I'm going to speak to her." Vincent
announced. "Come on"
He seized the unprotesting Austin by
the arm, and hurried after the girl.
II beg your pardon" he said when
he had reached her side, "but my name
is Vincent Rossell.'
She looked at him inQuiringly, with
the hint of a twinkle in her eye.
I'm very pleased to know it," she
answered in just the kind of voice Vim.
cent knew she would have. "Are you
trying to f1irt with me?"
He flushed ever so slightly.
mo, indeed" he protested earnestly,
II believe that have something for
you"
He fshed hastily into the inner
pocket of his coat and drew forth tat
tered letter addressed to Miss Doris
Osborn