Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1917-03-09

she said. her glace still toward the
hills, "did this thing to yous"
1t must have: / am persuaded
Of that he answered. bending
forward a little, as if his longing
impelled him.
She turned and took one stey
toward him. They were very CLOSE
together. AS they stood so. he
caught the fragrance of her hair
Why don't you try to find it
this paste" she asked.
She spoke the language of reso.
luteness.
Il have tried to find it," he an
swered, a trife heavily. 81 am try
ing. My life is an agony of cx-
ploration. an anguish of disap-
pointment. / have employed
agents, trusted men. L employ
them now. The absurdity of it
They search the world to find out
who | amt"
They will find out. They
must!"
He stood and regarded her, wor-
shipping the valor in her eyes.
$50 far" he said, "they have
proved only that | amounted to
nothing. Nowhere have they found
even the shadow of my vanished
personality" Despair clouded his
face for a moment. "1t seems in
credible that any human being
could have amounted to so little !"
Anxiety. something like indeci-
sion, assaulted her for the first time.
"And the effect of all this on
your work - here now?" she
asked, her lips uncertain again.
"You were right in what you
told me the last time | saw you,"
he admitted. Il know now they
will attack me-the lobbyiAs-on
the assumption that / have some
thing in my life to conceal" He
laughed lightly, without mirth.
"That, you know, is rather anus
ing"
She did not smile.
"And it will hurt the work?"'
she persisted.
II hope not" he said. "There
is this to our advantages: it has
gone so far, this movement, that it
will keep on, no matter what hap
pens."
She stood, leaning all her weight
on one foot, her position making it
seem that her shoulders stopped a
little. Her eys were still a ques-
ton.
II see now," he upbraided him
self, "how foolish, how tragically
foolish, | was in the beginning in
trying to run away from my trou-
ble-my disgrace. Nobody asked
questions when / first began this
work. Who was l, that anybody
should bother? l was a monde
script, a nonentity, circusing ON
the street corners. Then, later,
when a few began to look up to
me, / told myself it did not mat
ter what | had BEEN"
1T didn't, really" she COM
forted him. "People are forever
asking what a man has done. That
is now what matters. 1t is what
he is, what he wants to be. If they
would only understand that about
everybody!"
"The truth is, I suppose he
went on, eager to make her under
stand, II was ashamed of not be-
ing like other people. And 1 tried
to hide my difference from them.
That was my great mistake. We
cant hide anything we've ever
done, can we? We are today very
much what we did and thought
yesterday, and we will be tomor-
row, in great part, what we do to-
day"
Eyes" she assented, "each year
is beautified or made hideous by
the frightening shadows of those
other years we have left behind.''
49," he forced again the rail
lery into his voice, "there is moth
ing more nothing at all, is
there?"
lis it too late now to stop hid
ingi" she put a final question.
He could see that she was fight
ing against her bewilderment, try
inc IN hoo< do1ur tho Io,,h%s +Lox