The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1918-08-08

ued Pardaloe.
Again there was a pause. "Ill tel
you about that, too, Pardaloe," DE-
Spain went on collectedly. Il lost my
rifle before that man opened fire 81
us. Nan happened to have her riil'
with her-if she hadn't, he'd 'vt
dropped one or both of us off FL Capt.
tan. We We're pinned against the wal
like a couple of targets. If there were
soft-nose bullets in her rifle it's be
cause she uses them on game-bobcats
and mountain lions. / never thought
Of it till this minute. That is it,"
what | came up 20 tell you has to
do with Dave Sassoon. From what
happened today in the gap | thought
you ought to know it now. Gale and
Duke quarreled yesterday over the way
things turned out; they We're pretty
bitter. This afternoon Gale took il UP
again with his uncle, and it ended in
Dukes driving him clean cut of the
gap"
where has he gomez"
"NOhOdy knows yet. Ed Wickwire
told me once that your father was shot
from ambush a good many years ago.
Ii was north Of Medicine Bend, on Il
ranch near the Peace river; that You
never found out who killed him, and
that one reason why you came up into
this country was to keep an eye out for
a clue
"lVhat about it," asked De Spain.
his one hardening.
II was riding home n night about
a month ago from Calabasas with Sas-
soon. He'd been drinking. | let him
do the talking. He began cusSing you
out, and talked pretty hard about what
you'd done, and what he'd done, and
what he was going to do" Nothing,
it seemed, would hurry the story.
Finally, Sassoon says: That hound
don't know yet who got his dad. 1t
was Duke Morgan that's who got him.
was with Duke when he turned the
trick. We rode down to De SPANS
ranch one night to look up a rustler.'
That" concluded Pardaloe, was all
Sassoon would say"
He stopped. He seemed to wait.
There was no word of answer, one Of
comment from the nan sitting near
him. But, for one, at least, who heard
the ~passionless, monotonous recital Of
a murder of the long ago, there fol-
lowed a silence as relentless as fate,
a silence Shrouded in tine mystery of
the darkness and striking despair into
two heartS-a silence more fearful
than any word.
Pardaloe shufled his feet. He
coughed, but he evoked no response. II
thought you vas entitled to know"
he said finally. "Now that Sassoon will
never talk any more"
De Spain moistened his lips. When
he spoke his voice was cracked and
harsh, as if with what he had heard he
had suddenly grown old.
You are right, Pardaloe. l thank
you. when lin the morning. Par
ialOe, for the present, go back to the
gap. l will talk with Wickwire-tO-
morrow"
Good night, Mr.. de Spain"
Good night, Pardaloe."
Bending forward, limp, in his chair,
supporting his head vacantly on his
hands, trying to think and fearing to
.hink, De Spain heard Pardaloe's meas
ured tread on the descending steps,
and listened mechanically to the re-
treating echoes Of his footsteps down
the shaded street. Minute after min
ute passed. De Spain made no move.
A step so light that it could only have
been the step of a delicate girlhOod, q
step free as the football of youth,
poised as the tread of womanhood and
beauty, came down the stairs. Slight
as she was, and silent as he was, she
walked straight to him in the dark
ness, and, sinking between his feet,
wound her hands through his two
arms. II heard everything, Henry"
she murmured. looking up. An invol-
uDtary start Of protest was his only
response. II was afraid Of q plot
against you. l stayed at the head Of
the stairs. Henry, l told you long ago
some dreadful thing would come be-
tween us-something not our fault.
And now 1t m to dash our cup Of
happiness when 1t Is filing"
She stopped, hoping perhaps he
would say some little word. that he
would even pat her head, or press her
hand. but he sat like n stunned. "If
1t could have been anything but this !"
she pleaded, low and sorrowfully. "Oh,
why did you not listen to me before
we were engulfed! My dear Henry!
You who've given me all the happiness
l have ever habitat the blood Of my
own should come against you and
y~ours!" The emotion she struggled
with. and fought back with all the
strength Of her nature. rose in a re-
s~istless tide that swept her on, in the
fnce of his ominOus silence, to despair.
Her breath, no longer controlled. came
brokenly, and her voice trembled.
"You have been very kind to me,
lHenry-you've been the only man I've
ever known that always. everywhere,
thought OF me first. | told YOU | didn't
deserve 1t, | wasn't worthy of it"
His hQnHS clinnoA Silortlx o,.o- -,