Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1917-06-08

wouldn't be young folks enough left
to milk the cows"
"Henry, what is this report about the
Calabasas barns burning?"
"The old Number One barn is gone
and some of the old stages. We didn't
lose any horses, and the other barns
are all right Some of our Calabasas
or gap friends, probably. No matter
Wen get them all rounded up after a
while, Nan. Then, some fine day,
we're going to get married"
De Spain rode that night to Gala
basas to look into the story of the fire.
McAlpin, swathed in bandages, made
ne bones about accusing the common
enemy. No witnesses could be found
to throw any more light on the inquiry
than the barn boss himself. And De
Spain made only a pretense of a formal
investigation. If he had had any
doubts about the origin of the fire they
would have been resolved by an anOny-
nous Scrawl, sent through the mail,
promising more if he didn't get out of
the country.
But instead of getting out of the
country, De Spain continued as mat
ter of energetic policy to get into it.
He rode the deserts stripped, so to say,
for action and walked the streets of
Sleepy Cat welcoming every chance to
meet men from Music mountain or the
sinks. 1t was on Nan that the real
hardships of the situation fell, and
Nan who had to bear them alone and
almost unaided.
Duke came home a day or two later
without a word for Nan concerning his
encounter with De Spain. He was
shorter in the grain than ever, crustier
to everyone than she had ever known
him-and toward Nan herself fiercely
resentful. SassoOn was in his COM
pany a great deal, and Nan knew of
old that SassOon was a bad symptom.
Gale, too, came often, and the three
were much together. In some way,
Nan felt that she herself was in part
the subject of their talks, but no infOr-
nation concerning them could she ever
get.
One morning she sat on the porch
sewing when Gale rode up. He asked
for her uncle. Bonita told him Duke
had gone to CalabasaS. Gale an,
| nOunced he was bound for CalabaSas
himself, and dismounted near Nan
professedly to cinch his saddle. He
fused with the straps for minute
trying to engage Nan in the interval
without success, in conversation. Look
here, Man," he said at length, studious.
ly miable, don't you think you're
pretty hard on me, latelyT
mo, l don't" she answered. "It
Uncle Duke didn't make me, I'd never
look at you, or speak to you-or live
in the same mountains with you"
II don't think when fellow cares
| for you as much as l do, and gets out
of patience once in a while, just be.
cause he loves girl the way red
blooded man can't help loving her, she
ought to hold it against him forever
Think she ought to, Nan?" he demand
ed after a pause. She was sewing and
kept silence.
Il think" she responded, showing
her aversion in every syllable, "befort
a man begins to talk red-bloOd rot, he
ought to find out whether the girl cares
for him, or just loathes the sight OF
him."
He regarded her fixedly. Paying ne
attention to him, but bending in the
sunshine over her sewing, her hand fly
ing with the needle, her masses OF
brown hair sweeping back around hel
pink ears and curling in stray ringlets
that the wind danced with while she
worked, she inhamed her brawny cous
ms ardor afresh. you used to care
for me, Nan. You can't deny that
Her silence was irritating. Can your
he demanded. Come, put up YOU
work and talk it out. 1 didn't use tC
have to coax you for q word and 6
smile. What's come over your"
Nothing has come over me, Gale.
did use to like you-when I first came
back from school. You seemed so biz
and fine then, and were so nice to me
did like you"
"Why didn't you keep on liking me p
Nan made no answer. Her cousin
persisted. "You used to talk about
thinking the world of me-" she said al
last; then saw you one Frontier day
riding around Sleepy Cat with a car
riage full of women"
Gale burst into huge laugh. Mans
face flushed. She bent over her work
"Oh, that's what's the matter with you
is it?" he demanded jocularly. "You
| nnunr rnnntinnnd lint hnfnrnN