Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1918-01-24

ting Away and evading the haunts of
men, at least until he could secure new
apparel. He e%njoyably drank in great
inspiring drafts of the sweet, balmy
air as he struck a deserted country
road. He must have gone as far as
twenty miles, before utter WEAKNESS
impelled him to enter a half-open barn
behind a small, di%lapidated cottage.
He climbed to it's loft and the newly
cut hay was to him a bed more inviting
than the downiest couch.
1t was bare daylight when Dale
awoke. The first objects that attract
ed his attention'w were some rough farm
working clothes hanging over a rafter,
doubtless belonging to the owner of
the place.
"What luckw he breathed. ooh, I
can face the world now" and rolling
his rejected convict garb in a bundle,
intent on sinking it out of evidence
IN the first pond he came to. Dale de-
scended to the ground floor OF the barn
and stepped into the sunlight.
"Who are you?"-clear and definite
the challenge halted him as would a
shot. A fair, earnest-faced girl, q rake
in her hand, confronted him. She
stared %askance, and, as he shrank back.
she added keenly:
"And what r you doing with my
fathers working clothes?"
Dale quivered. He was shamed, en-
barrassed. Then something in the
womanly eyes of the other impelled
him to a quick action.
"These are mine," he said brokenly,
spreading out the striped garb. "Lady,
on the verge of a new life, 1 ask you
to believe that I shall make it a wor-
thy one, unless you hinder"
She understood. For a moment she
reflected. Then she said:
"You are welcome to the clothes, and
as the early riser Of the house 1 shall
be the only keeper of your secret. We
are poor, but you can have the clothes
as a free gift and you shall share my
breakfast, and then God speed you on
a safe Journey"
One year later a new Richard Dale
approached the old cottage at dusk.
He was we'll dressed, erect, manly in
form and feature. All through q year
he had shared with a clay worker with
a large family, one hundred miles
away, work that was fairly remunera
tive and he had saved n All
that time, day and night, q single
thought, the memory Of one face, had
filled his mind-the girl who had be-
friended him.
Dale glided to an open window.
Within he saw the girl Of his dreams,
her aged father, a young man, whom
he soon knew to be the lover of the
girl he loved as no other being on
earth.
She was lost to him. He bowed his
head in pain. Then he listened, to
learn that the marriage of the loving
twain was hindered because Of a small
mortgage on the place. He reached
within his pocket, withdrew over three
hundred dollars, the savings of a
year, gave 1t a studied fling squarely
into the lap of the astounded girl,
and ran.
1t was a dreary place, the clay yards
to which Richard Dale returned. The
half-formed home Of love had been
crushed, yet his was the peacefullest
face, as, two days later, he resumed
his monotonous toll.
He had given happiness to the girl
who had been his friend, and was con-
tent. Only, for long after that a GER
tain sadness would come into his eyes
as, in handling a lump of clay, moor
sciously he would model the faultless
contour Of a comely face, suggesting
the cherished being he had loved and
lost.
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