The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-07-24
EVENING STORY
Marina's Rescue.


trees-back waters damned by tne
swifter current of the river May tho
it was, there was more than Wintry
tang to the penetrating damp.
Therefore Marina was out gamer
ing bark and chips. The winter WOOD
pile was exhausted, but Granhys rec.
bleness demanded a fire. So the girl
went out of bounds, into the WOODS
beyond>the ragged pasture Men nao
worked there in winter cutting TIM
her. she knew they must have left
behind what would be treasure-trove
to her In the dusk she could not IN
stantly mark the spot, therefore she
went zigzag, feeling with little. pad
ly shod foot for what she sough..
Presently she found it and began
eagerly to gather arms and apronfuI
of it. but stopped with a little startled
cry as she ran plump against a human
figure.
A man indeed He was clearly no
less startled than she. A Whit of
smoke told her that he had a IRE
close at hand-his coat was beaded
all over with moisture, making 1t
plain he had been out long while.
She looked up at him-he was very
tali-the smother of mist all but
| masked him. yet she noted that he
was clean-shaven and that his eyes
were so deep-set that she could not
mark shape or color.
What brings you here % he asked
| tensely. She touched her half-filled
| apron significantly, saying only:
Need"
rs it great enough to make YOU
| risk something?" he asked eagerly.
her as soon as she spoke. She drew
deep breath. answering, MY need
is immediate-warmth for old age.
| But if the risk is not wicked one, l
| do not mind
"Judge.' he said thickly. ct am
i hmm ted 0Sf- cot n
| friend Yet I am not a criminal L
| swear it before your innocence. The
| charge is murGer-my pursuers VIII
| hang me first and prove me guilty
afterward. So far I have baffled
| them: but when you. have been
| tramping, running, falling, getting up.
| for twelve hours, you can't 60 much
| farther. Resting a little while, grew
>chilled. Thanks to the mist 1 dare
have fire. Now-will you bring me
| food-and take or send a message?
You shall have your reward"
ST want none," Marina said, almost
haughtily. But 1 shall help you-I
would even II thought you guilty.
! That makes me believe there is a
God after all, the man said huskily.
But you must be quick-they have
| set bioodhounds on my trail.
Marina let fall her burden. united
her apron, stripped off her skirt, and
said hushedly, as she spread them
. DeLOI0 ulIfl, lake tAcStt run 1Alty
yards from the fire, spread them
down. walk on them. take them up,
| spread them again, come back to me
| and follow me, still keeping the things
| under your feet"
! Where will you take me?' the
| man asked.
| Home" she said. BE quick
! and be glad that as a child 1 learned
to play the Indian game of breaking
| trail.''
| How successfully. it was broken was
proved within two hours. The dogs
| were utterly at fault after leaving the
fire. Lanterns showed neither hoof
marks nor footprints-as to other
| scent the hounds took no note of it.
So in the thick dark they could no no
| more than wait for daylight. The
| woods were wide and open, having
been cut over, therefore full of devil
Gus trails. The best chance was to
guard their exits The fugitive must
be hidden somewhere within. unless
he had escaped by aeroplane.
Instead he lay snug in the loft of
Grannys lumber-house. Marina had
been too wise, too regardful of her
dear charge to risk hiding him in the
cottage. So when in a wan, cherries
morning, as unlike May as might be,
men came there asking the white
haired gentlewoman if she had seen
/ or heard of their quarry, she answered
them with a sincerity so manifest, SO
gently dignified, it was convincing
ienOugh to make them ashamed. Search
if they chose-she had nothing to fear.
/ Every place-she would send Marina
to unlock doors for them, being her
self unable to walk briskly- They
shook their heads. contented them
with regarding intently sundry secure
ly locked DOORS tried in vain to lay
on the dogs, and finding no trace OF
scent. went away more than ever
puzzled.
|
to mask trail even in climbing the
ladder to the loft. Then she had in
continently burned her apron. skirt
and outer petticoat, wondering little
how she should replace them--or
manage without them next winter
Before Granny walked she had carried
food and water to her prisoner
days supply. It would be risky to go
near him again until the pursuit was
off. Still she would not waste TWEEN
lynchers had left she harnessed up
Gray Billy and insisted upon taking
Granny to see her gossip, Sister Joy.
From the Joy house she drove onto
the village five miles off, she reported
to neighbors on coming back. True
enough she had been there-but mid
way she had turned from the main
road to the Cation house and talked
there briefly with young Francis. the
son of the family, who stared at what
he heard-but not quite SO much as
Z at the bearer of the news.
| After that things all but arranged
themselves. Upon the third night Ma
rina made clean breast of things
to Granny-and got her blessing upon
the closing errand, which was to take
the accused man, William Benton by
name out back to the farther turn
pike. where Francis Cation awaited
them with his swift car. She had
hardly slept since the beginning Of her
adventure. After this happy ending
of it she nodded SO heavily that Gray
Billy had things all his own way. Be-
ing a wise beast. withal kindly, he
took his young mistress safe home.
There she slept the clock round, with
Granny purring gently over her.
Granny had been lady of spirit in
her youth-it pleased her nightly to
find in her sons daughter all the old