The Kadoka press and Kadoka reporter. [volume] (Kadoka, S.D.) 1910-1923, 1918-05-03

| lSS struggle una SlaEe unGer tcITIOle
conditions Und il iss largely because
off ignorance. We know not vot We can
do-und We shrink yron der unknown.
Here iss acres by der douSand vree
to der man vot can off ii make use
und dOusands vot lifts und dies und
neffer hass IA home. Here iss goOt,
CLEAN air-und in der Shmoke und
shmells und dirty streets iss a ravage
of tuberculosis. Der balance iss not
true. Und in der own way der rich
iss full off drOuble-drunk NIT eggcite-
ment, weary nit pleasures. Ach, der
woods und mountains und streams.
blenty Off food, und n kindly ncighbor
-iss not dot enough? Only der alb
normal wants more as dot. Und | dink
der drouble iSs largely dot der modern,
high h-breSsure Civilization makes for der
abnormal, veddCr n man iSS million
aire or works in der brewery, content
ment iss state off der mind-und if
der mind works nit logic it will content
find in der simple dings."
1t sounded like a pronouncement Of
Bills. But Lauer did not often grow
serious. Mostly he was jovially cheer
full, and his wife likewise. The North
had emancipated them, and they were
loyal to the source of their deliver
ance And Hazel understood, because
she herself had found the wild land a
benefactOr, kindly in its silence. rest
full in its foreSted peace, cure for
sickness Of soul. Twice now it had
rescued her from herself.
| November and December went their
appointed way-and still no word OF
Bill. If now and then her pillow was
wet she struggled nightly against de-
preston. She was not lonely in the
dire significance of the word-but she
longed passionately for him. And
she held fast to her faith that he
would come.
The last of the old year she went
little abroad, ventured seldom beyond
the clearing. And on New Years eve
Jake Lauer's wife came TO the cabin
to stay.
Hazel sat up, wide awake, on the in
stant. There was not the slightest
sound She had been deep in sleep.
Nevertheless she felt, rather than
knew. that some one was in the living
room Perhaps the sound of the door
opening had filtered through her slum-
ber. She hesitated an instant, not
through fear, because in the months of
living alone fear had utterly forsaken
her; but hope had leaped so often.
only to fall sickeningly, that she was
half persuaded 1t must be dream.
Still the impression strengthened. She
slipped out of bed. The door of the
bedroom stood slightly ajar.
Bill stood before the fireplace, his
shaggy fur cap pushed far back on his
head, his gauntlets swinging from the
cord about his neck. She had left a
great bed of Goals on the hearth, and
the glow shone redly on his frost-scab-
bed face. But the marks of bitter trail
bucking, the marks of frostbite, the
stubby beard, the tiny icicles that still
clustered on his eyebrows; while these
traces of hardship tugged at her heart
they were forgotten when she saw the
expression that OverShadowed his face.
Wonder and unbelief and longing were
all mirrored there. She took a shy
7 step forward to see what riveted his
, gaze. And despite the choking SEN
sation in her throat she smiled-fOr
she had taken off her little, beaded
moccasins and left them lying on the
r bearskin before the fire, and he was
= staring down at them like man fresh
. wakened from dream, unbelieving
! and bewildered.
With that she opened the door and
ran to him. He started, as if she had
5 been a ghost. Then he opened his arms
e and drew her close to him.
e "Bill, Bill, what made you so longT
, she whispered. ~ guess it served me
= right, but it seemed never-endine
] time"
: "What made me so longY' he
echoed, bending his rough cheek dowr
e against the warm smOOthness Of hers
I Lord, l didn't know you wanted me
Y | amt no telepathist, hon. You never
: peeped one little word since / left
! How long you been hereT
!. "Sjnce last September" She smiled
b up at him. Didn't Courvoiseur's mar
d deliver a message from me to the
4 mihe? Didn't you come in answer t.
u my note?"
"Grent Caesars ghost-since Sep
g tember-alOne You poor little girl !
n he murmured. mo. If you sent wore
d to me through Courvoiseur never go
$ It. Maybe something happened to hi
n man. / left the Klappan with the frs
d snow. Went poking aimlessly owe
r around the Finlay river with coupl
d of trappers. Couldn't settle down
& Never heard a word from you. II
. given you up. just blew in this wa,
by sheer accident. Girl, girl, you dom
+ know how good 1t is to see you again
Y to have this warm body of yours cud
d died up to me again. And you cam
& right here and planted yourself to wal
e till turned up?"
'Sure!" She laughed happily. "Bu
st sent you word. even II you never SO
ID Il. Oh. well, It doesn't matter. Moth
Is ing matters now. You're here, an
e. I'm here, and Oh, Billy-boy. wa
II IN awful pig-headed idiot. Do yo
l. think you can take another chanc
" with meT