The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1918-11-13
CHAPTER v.

When at last he alighted at the
door, and was shown into the recep-
ton room, he felt that he was almost
trembling with eagerness.
He looked uncertainty about him, at
the group Of young officers, the ladies,
at Mrs. Howard, and then at the styl-
ishly dressed young woman at her side.
And, forgetting his manners, he ap-
preached her in stupefaction, ignoring
his hostess for the moment.
"Eleanorr'
"Uncle Marki It's never you, Uncle
Mark y cried the girl. "Why, I should
never, never have known yOu!"
But would he have known her, had
he not looked closely into the clear
eyes to discern the face Of the little
waif beneath the beauty of the woman?
He had often and often imagined her,
grown to wOmanhoOd, and dressed as
he would have dressed her, but some
how she had always had the look and
aspect Of the child, blended with the
schoolgirl. A sudden chill went through
his heart at her self-mastery, the we'll
bred welcome that had in it little Of
real eagerness. And he realized that,
though he had always looked on her as
lost, at the bottom Of his heart he
must have hoped to find her again.
He stood, graying-haired. uncom-
Portable, almost middle-aged man, try.
ing to feel at home. He saw Keller
man looking at him across the room. as
If there was some message in his eyes
II hope I haven't changed SO much
as all that" said Mark, trying to
smile.
mo" she answered. looking at him
with searching, direct gaze. "NOt
really-only at first appearance. Why
Uncle Mark. your hair is turning gray
What have you been doing with your
selfr'
He felt that the unconscious shaft
had gone well home. He only answer
ed vaguely. There was q little in
formal dancing, and, as he felt beflttei
his age. he waltzed few turns witt
Eleanor and sat back with Mrs. How
ard, surveying the gay crowd, and re
calling memories-about the most dis
heartening thing that he could hav'
done.
"What do you think Of Eleanor?'
asked Mrs. Howard. "You didn't ex
pect to find the little schoolgirl grow
up like this. did your"
"Nor she me-like this" answers
Mark humbly. But the Colonel's wifi
missed the allusion.
"She has been crazy to see you,
Mrs. Howard continued. "She CAV
the Colonel no rest after he told u
that he was trying to get you for tn
avar Office. I believe she had Away
had a sort Of romantic recollection Q
you. and looked upon you as sort q
guardian. although, of course, it was
fortunate thing for her and us-an
you, too-that Colonel Howard di
succeed in inducing you to let us TAX
her. She has been everything to us
"Of course" said Mark mechanic
ally.
ut would have been terrible Iii
, for her out in the desert" sighed Mr.
Howard. II think that you were ver
wise. Captain Wallace. And what
, dreadful burden and responsibility 70
, you would have had"
81 This time Mark did not attempt
answer.
"She has been daughter to both
: u.s." pursued his hostess. "And no
z I'm afraid-we're both afraid. CAPITA
Wallace, that we cannot hope to ha'
1 her for long. She was quite the RAJ
8 In New York last season."
l. Wallace followed the girl with b
!. eyes. She had just been dancing wi
/ young officer; 1t had been q tw
|, step, and as the band Of three piec
It broke into the widest and merrie
p part Of the piece he saw her, wi
I, flushed face and laughing eyes, acce
It Kellerman's arm and surrender hers,
It to the dance.
Kellerman caught Marks eyes aero
y the room. He looked straight ba
1t with a meaning challenge which W
ID unmistakable. Mark knew at th
le moment that his antpathy to Kell'
i man had returned. although he was
Df clined to believe the other was q
n aware It had ever existed.
he Kellerman was q splendid flgu
Id even In his civilian evening cloth
Id Fully six feet tall, with the chest a
o. limbs Of IN athlete. horid, with crI
* black hair and sense of the poss
be sion Of power. he looked at least
". years Marks junior. though they b
er been born In the same year. "Hal
b. some Kellerman" had been his col