Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1917-04-12

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the beach leaning against the carcened
hulk of a dismantled catboat with a
gaping rent in its side. At a little dis
lance the woman was sitting in the
sands, bosom and shoulders heaving
convulsively, dump, matted hair yelling
her like curtain Of sunlit seaweek
lie moved with painful effort toward
her. She turned up to him her pitlful.
writhen facs, white as parchment.
"Are you-hurt 2" he managed to ask.
II mean-injured?"
She moved her head from. side to
side, as If she could not speak for pant.
Ing.
"Tm-glad," he said duly. "You
stay-here I'll so get help"
He raised his eyes, peering inland.
Back Of the beach the land rose in
long, sweeping hillocks, treeless but
green./ His curiously befogged vision
made out number Of shapes that re-
senibled dwellings.
Go !. #. get help -
he repeated thickly.
He started off with brave, stagger-
ing rush that carried him dozen feet
inland. Then his knees turned to wa
ter. and the blackness Of night shut
down upon his senses.
When Whitaker awoke !, afternoon
was cloudy-warm and bright, so that
his eyes were grateful for the shade of
white parasol that girl was holding
over him. He grew suspicious Of his
senses; and when the parasol was
transformed into the shape Of a wom-
an wearing a clumsy Jacket of soiled
covert cloth over a nondescript gar
ment of weirdly printed calico-then
he was sure that something was wrong
with him.
Besides, the woman suddenly turned
and bent over him an anxious face, ex-
claiming in accents Of CONSERVATION !:
20 dear! If he's delirious-!'
his voice, when he strove to answer,
rustled and ratified SO that he barely
managed to say "What nonsense! I'm
Just thirsty"
II thought you would be-" said the
woman, calmly; 80 I brought water.
Here :"
She offered tin vessel to his lips.
He sat up suddenly, seized the vessel
and buried his face in it, gradually tilt
ing It, while its cool, delicious sweet
ness irrigated his arid tissues, until
every blessed drop was drained. Then,
and not till then, he lowered the pail
and with sane vision began to renew
acquaintance with the world.
He was sitting in the lee of the
beached catboat. The woman he had
rescued sat quite near him. The gale
was still booming overhead, but now
with less force Cor so he fancied)
and the surf still crashed in thunders
on the beach q hundred feet or more
away; but the haze was lighter, and
the blue Of the sky was visible, il tar
nished.
The sands curved of in a wide cres-
cent, ending in long, sandy spit.
There was . low, ragged earth bank
rising from the sands. Midway be-
tween the beach and where the hazy
uplands lifted their blurred profile
against the faded sky, stood . COM
monplace farmhouse, in good repair,
strongly constructed and neatly paint
ed: with brood Of out buildings.
Here and. there, In scattered groups
and singly. sheep foraged.
With puzzled eyes Whitaker sought
counsel and enlightenment of the WON
an, and found in her appearance quite
as much to confound anticipation and
deepen perplexity. What she had
worn the night before he could not
say; but it certainly could have had
nothing in common with the worn,
stained, misshapen jacket covering her
shoulders, beneath it the calico wrap