The Yale expositor., 1918-04-18
CHAPTER lV-continued

"Roarin' Bills goin' to get himself
killed one uh these days"
Hazel started. but it was only Jim
Briggs in the doorway beside her.
81 guess you amt much used to see
In that sort of exhibition where you
come from, Miss Weir" Briggs wife
put in over his shoulder. my land,
It's disgustln'-men fghtin' in the
street where everybody can see 'em.
Thank goodness, 1t don't happen very
often. Specially when Bill Wagstaff
amt around. You amt shocked, are
you, honeyf"
"Why, i didn't have time to be
shocked" Hazel laughed. at was
Zone so quickly.
eff them fellers would leave Bill
alone" Briggs remarked, there
wouldn't be no fight. But he goes off
like a hair-trigger gun, n he'd scrap
a dozen quick as M I'm lookin' to
see his finish one uh these days"
"What a namel" Hazel observed.
caught by the appellation Briggs had
first used. els that Roaring Bill over
there?"
that's him-Roarln' Bill Wagstaff."
Briggs answered. "If he takes a few
drinks, you'll find out tonight how he
got the name. Sings-just like a bull
moose-hear him all over town. Prob
ably whip two or three men before
mornin'."
His spouse calling him at that mo-
ment, Briggs detailed no more infor-
nation about Roaring Bill. And Hazel
sat looking across the way with con-
siderable interest at the specimen of
a type which hitherto she had encoun-
tered in the pages of fiction-a fight
ing man, what the West called a bad
actor" She had, however, no wish
for closer study of that particular
type. The men of her world had been
altogether different, and the few from
tier specimens she had met ut the
Briggs dinner table had not i'm
pressed her with anything except their
shyness and manifest awkwardness In
her presence. The West itself APP
pealed to her, its bigness, its nearness
to the absolutely primeval, but not the
people she had so far met. And so
she looked at Roaring Bill Wagstaff.
over the way, with a quite impersonal
interest.
He came into Briggs place for sup
per. Mrs. Briggs was her own wait
ress. Briggs himself sat beside Hazel.
She heard him grunt, and saw a mild
look Of surprise fit over his counte-
nance when Roaring Bill walked in
and coolly took a seat. But not until
Hazel glanced at the newcomer did she
recognize him as the man who had
fought in the street. He was looking
straight at her when she did glance
up, and the mingled establishment and
frank admiration in his clear gray
eyes made Hazel drop hers quickly to
her plate. Since Mr.. Andrew Bush,
she was beginning TO hate men who
looked at her that way. And she could
not help seeing that many did so look.
The next Saturday Hazel went for
n tramp in the afternoon. The few
walks she had taken had dulled all
sense Of uneasiness in venturing into
the Unfolding forest. She felt that those
shadowy woods were less sinister han
man. And since she had always kept
her sense of direction and come
straight to the Meadows whenever she
went abroad, she had no fear or
thought Of losing her way.
To reach her objective point, she
crossed a long stretch of rolling land.
well timbered, dense In parts with
thickets of berry bushes. Midway in
this she came upon a little brook, purr-
Ing a monotone as IL crawled over
pebbled reaches and bathed the tangled
roots OF trees along its brink. BY this
she sat a while. Then she idled along.
coming after considerable difficulty to
abruptly rising ground. She could not
see the town, but she could mark the
low hills behind II. At any rate, she
knew where 1t lay, and the way back.
SO she thought. But the short after
noon fed. and, warned by the low dip
of the sun. she left her nook on the
hillside to make her way home.
Though Il was near SHUTDOWN. she felt
no particular concern. The long
northern twilight gave her ample time
TO cover the distance.
But once down on the rolling land,
among the close-ranked trees, she be-
gan to experience n difficulty that had
not hitherto troubled her. With the