Williams news., 1917-04-12

so abounding in life. Mentally as we'll as physically, she seemed ever tireless, buoyant, animated.
 Day after day they worked and planned for the good of the tribe; day after day her graciousness toward him increased. And day after day his love for her deepened and strength ened until it could be seen in his every look and act, and heard in every in- fiection of his voice when he spoke to her. Though her manner toward him showed no trace of overt coquetry, she made no effort to repulse his silent devotion or to check the growth of his passion.
 A week after the departure of the delegation found him fully looking the part of a gallant Iover-ardent, youth full, almost handsome. He had lost much of his former look of pensiye severity. Even the silvery hairs over his temples seemed to be regaining their original ruddy brown.
 A few days later one of the lines of levels happened to bring him and the girl to the edge of the coulee, across from the butte. He suggested that they go down and across to the spring Till for a drink.
 As they turned back, Marie recog- nized the exact spot where he had been shot. Womanlike, she shud- dered and turned pale at the recol- lection, though at the time of the oc- currence she had been so brave.
 "Look!" she said in a half-whisper. "Here is where you fell. I thought you were killed!"
 while," he replied. His voice shook with the irresistible passion of his love. Dearest !-let me call you that here, this once! It was here I first looked into the depths of your heart, and learned how good and kind you are"
 The girl turned to hide her face from the reverent adoration of his gaze.
 'No, mo-" she murmured. Don't please!"
 q must speak, dear," he replied. "I ask nothing of you. It is only that I wish to tell you how you made me realize again that life is worth living. When I came from the Coast, I had lost one dearer to me than anyone else in all the world-my mother. She was little woman, very frail-her blue eyes were dim and faded, her hair white; but even when she-was at the very end-her dear eyes sought to ease my grief with the same look you gave me as you bent over me here and thought me fatally injured"
 "Please" begged the girl, choking back a sob. 'I do not deserve Your mother but am not kind nor good!"
 Hardy went on in the same voice of profound passion: You lifted me out of the shadow Of the Valley. You came to me in my blank darkness, a glorious light of divine goodness that compelled me to see that all was not wrong with the universe-that even so great loss as mine might be for the best"
 q am not what you think mel am not!' she reiterated.
 "You restored my faith and hope" he insisted. "It would be selfish of me to ask anything more of you now"
 'It would be useless-uselessI '" she cried.
 He was too little versed in feminine nature to realize that her vehemence might indicate an effort to suppress an inner doubt of the assertion. Had he been a few years younger, youth | full impetuoSity might have won him that which his reverent respect shrank from urging. He had taken her gloved hand. He pressed it to his lips, and freed her.
 "1 shall not annoy you, dear," he said. 'Yet cannot take that as final I shall wait until he returns. Then ] shall take my fighting chance"
 "You will?' she whispered.
 q shall not give up until ysu have pledged yourself to him. If I can. | will prevent that. He cannot pos sibly love you as I love you. If 1t is possible to win you for my wife, I will do it."
 Marie quivered, and shrank from him as if startled. "You say. when he comes back But until then you-you will not"
 Until then we shall continue to be the same good comrades that we have been."
 The girl drew in a deep breath '"Then-let us go back to work"
 Hardy accepted the suggestion with a self-control that was as remarkable as 1t was misplaced. i
 CHAPTER XVII.