The Daily Missoulian. [volume] (Missoula, Mont.) 1904-1961, 1917-11-18
Copyright, 1916 by Edward J. Clode }

Copyright, 1916, bs Edward j. Clode)
CHAPTER L.
a blue and golden day in sSeptem-
Der, Il day when the mellown2ss Of the
sunshine, the rhythmical but even
murmur Of the sea, and the tranquil
stiffness Of the air all seemed to SAVIOR
of peace; and nowhere was this calm
of moSphcre--sometimes deeper than
any mere quietness of the actual air
more to be felt than in the town of
Eastermouth 1t lies in the cres-
cent made by a curve of sandy cliffs
and is too big to be called a fishing
village, too unspoilt for a watering
place. and the various people who come
there for their holiday each year all
speak Of It as il they had discovered
it and held some vested right in the
place.
At the Wave Crest Private hotel, for
instance, there was almost too much of
this feeling, which, though gratifying
to the proprietress, Mrs. Sandcrson, yet
sometimes caused the regular visitors
to be little stand offish toward new
Corners.
I'VE are like a big family, am
sure, and Mrs. Sanderson mothers us
all" Miss Myrtle, the inevitable faded
spinster who was almost too elderly to
be a daughter to any one, was wont
to observe.
However when she and Mr.. Pollock,
the j. p, and Mrs. Sanderson herself
did melt toward any one then you
could be quite sure that they We're
'.all right
Peace therefore usually held sway at
Wave Crest, except for the chickering's
which would occur between Miss Myr-
tie and Mr.. Pollock--and after all these
wordy flares only increased the like
ness to a family.
On this September morning a sense
of after breakfast repletion brooded
within the house as nearly tangibly
as the sense of peace without. Yet to
any observer of acute feelings both
would have held a slight but ominous
undercurrent; for on the horizon Slip
ping quickly along the rim of the world
went crap shape after gray shape
mere little serrated ridges to the care
less, but to the understanding eye
something of far deeper significance
They were destroyers. mothered by a
cruiser. and high above them. so high
that 1t looked less than one of the
Eulls wheeling over the rctrcating tide
on the shore, hung a biplanc. That
strip of water known as the North sea
and those gray shapes together made
the reason why the scmblance of peace
was still able to brood over England
even when she had been Il month at
war
However, there apparently was no
acute observer i'll the grounds of wave
crest that morning. only a girl and
with her Il slim, rather fatuous, but
handsome young man in flannel, with
an cyeglass. trim little mustachc
and general air of contentment with
himself and the rest Of the world He
was taking some boss shots at an old
archery target with an air gun. and
seemed too lazy and to Intellectual to
mind whether he hit it or not He had
hardly glanced at the portents on the
blue horizon.
He was the embodiment OF casual
content, and as for the girl with him.
though to Il friends eye she would
have seemed more subdued than was
her wont, yet she apparently was COM
ing in for severe criticism on the other
side Of the bright brick house wall.
In Mrs. Sanderson's own private sit :
ting room some of her guests were
assembled and they We're there owing
to the fact that he of the eyeglass,
Mr.. Christopher Brent. had, only the
morning before. allowed his bath to
overflow, thus drenching the walls and
ceiling of the lounge.
1t was the hour sacred to the morn :
ing paper. and, like many people whose
habit Of mind is in a narrow groove
these inmates of Wave Crest were un :
able to resist turning the general into
the particular ana personal Mr.. Pol
lock, according to masculine usage
from time immemorial. stood in front
of the crate. although no fire burned
there. He was a flord. portly person
age, with an expanse of head that
caught the morning sun almost as
brightly as did the pinceneZ tilted for
ward Oh his somewhat NellingtoniaI
nose. This nose and his upward mus
tache gave Mr.. Pollock an air as %
"A retired major, fact of which he was
pleasurably aware. He w;fs booming
forth remarks like Il machine gun from
behind the shelter of the Times, an,
Miss Myrtle, who was wrestling witt
the complications of purl and plain oi
the sofa, allowed nervous shudde
to run through her frame at each eX
plosiOn.
If there be any truth in the theor
that opposites make a good pair, III
fates should certainly have joined Mis-
Myrtle and Mr.. Pollock in closer un
ion. For she was small. thin and des
located looking with gray hair whic