The Ordway new era., 1919-05-09
CHAPTER vII-contInued.


-5-
The windstorm the previous week
mad made a sickening devastation Of
1er labors. The morning-glories alone
were scatheless. A pink oleander
1rooped many broken branches from
which miracles of perfect flowers were
unfolding. The. prettiest blossom to
Hardin was the gardener herself. She
was vivid from eager toll. Hardin
,ooked at her'approbatively. He liked
aer khaki suit, simple as uniform.
with Its flowing black tie and leather
belt. She looked more like herself to-
lay. She had blenched out, in Tucson.
She had beca letting herself get too
5unburn paled the value of those
splendid eyes OF hers He could always
tease her by llkenins them to topazes.
His eyes ran over the pink and pur-
ole tines of cord-.rained vines which.
nads doral screDas for her tent. Free
" the stringp overhead, they rioted
over the ranada, the second roof, of
living bougts. he acknowledged their
. beauty. They gave grace to bare ne
cessity, they denied the painting,
thirsty desert just beyond.
He remembered his own ramada.
Gerty had hated 1t. had complained Of
1t 30 bitterly when she came home
from New York that he had had 1t
pulled down and replaced by v roof
Of pine boards, glaring and ugly. Gerty
was satisfied, for 1t was clean; she no
longer felt that she lived In a squaw
house. Let the Indians have ramadas !;
there was no earthly reason she should.
ae had urged that the desert dwellers
had valuable hints to give them. But
what was remada to him, or anything
else? Hardin turned to leave.
She did not want him to go SO soon.
She pointed out q new vine to him.
She had brought 1t from Tucson;
"Kudzu." they called 1t; a Japanese
vine. And there was another broken
-ose, quite beyond the help Of stripped
handkerchiefs and mesquit splints.
He followed her around the tent, her
prattis falling from his grim mood. He
was not thinking of her flowers except
as mocking parallel. The desert
storm had made havoc Of his garden
"a sorry botch of his life. He and
Snnes had been trying to make gar
den out OF a desert: the desert had
douted them. 1t was not his fault.
Something had happened; something
quite beyond his power. Luck was
turning against him.
Innes. why. she was playing as with
toy. 1t was the natural instinct of a
woman to make things pretty around
her. But he had sacrificed his youth,
his chances. His. domestic life, too
Ae khould never have carried a dainty
little woman like Gerty into the des-
ert. He had never reproached her for
.eavlhg him, even last time when he
thought 1t was for good. The word
ourned his wound. Whose good? His
1r Gerty's? Somehow. though they
wrangled, he always knew 1t would
turn out all right; life would run
, smoothly when they left the desert.
But things we're getting worse; his
mouth puckered over some recollec-
tions. Yet he loved Gerty he couldn't
plcture life without her. He decided
that It was because there had never
been anyone else. Most fellows had
had sweethearts before they married !;
ne had not, nor a mistress when she
left him, though God knows. 1t would
have been easy enough. bis mouth
sell into sardonic lines. Those half
Breed womenl No one, even when a
1ivorce had hung over him. oh. he
knew what their friends made of each
sf Gerty's heightened flights; he knew !
But that had been spared him, that
vulgar grisly spectacle of modern life
when two people who have been lovers
1rag the carcass of their love over the
srimy floor OF a curious gaping. court.
He shuddered. Gerty loved him. Else,
why had she come back to him? Why
had she not kept her threat when he
refused to- abandon his desert project
and turn his abilities into more
profitabls dedication? He could see
aer face as she stared flushing up into
Ais that nipping cold day when he had
run into her on Broadway. He remem-
sesed her coquetry when she suggest.
ID that there WINS plenty of room in
~ apartment His wife! She spoke
Z seeing his pictures In the papers
Ne had grown 20 be great mani"
nat Dasssat meeting. the week fol.