The Yale expositor., 1919-12-18

Il
limb into place and 1t had been his
1t was different from branding calves
and he had slipped out of the room as
soon as possible. The morning sun
was now pouring through the window
and the distraught look on the boys
| face touched her even more than the
frankness of the words spoken in the
| darkness. She suddenly remembered
that he had been up all night-for her.
| She would not deceive herself with the
| thought that it was for her fathers
sake Dave had galloped to town, found
a doctor, secured a fresh team and
driven back along the little-used foot
hill trails. No doubt Dave would have
done it all for her father. had her IA
ther been there alone, but as things
were she had a deep conviction that
he had done 1t for her. And it was
with a greater effort than seemed rea-
sonable that she laid her fingers on his
arm and said:
"Thank you, Dave"
"What for" he asked, and she could
not doubt the genuineness of his ques-
ton.
"Why, for bringing the doctor, and
all that. 1 am sure 1 can't-father
won't be able to"
"Oh, shucks" he interrupted, with
manner which, on the previous after
noon, she would have called rudeness.
That's nothin'. But, say, brought
home some grub. The chuck here was
pretty tame. Guess you found that
out last night" He looked about the
room and she knew that he was taking
note of her housekeeping, but he
made no remark on the subject.
"Well, let's get breakfast" she said,
after moments pause and for lack
of other conversation. "You must be
hungry"
Dawes purchases had been liberal.
They included fresh meat and vegeta.
bles, canned goods, coffee, rice and
raisins. He laid the last three items
on the table with a great assembling
Of indifference, for he was immensely
proud of them. They were unwonted
items on the Eden bill of fare; he had
bought them especially for her. But
she busted herself at the breakfast
without a thought of the epoch-mark-
ing nature of these purchases.
The doctor. who had been resting in
the room with his patient, entered the
kitchen. During the setting Of the limb
he had gradually become aware of the
position of Irene in the household;
but had that not been so, one glance
at the boy and girl as they now stood
in the bright morning sunshine, he
with his big, wiry frame, his brown
face, his dark eyes, his black hair, she,
round and knit and smooth, with the
pink shining through her fair skin and
the light of youth dancing in her gray
eyes and the light Of day glancing on
her brown hair, must have told him
they had sprung from widely separat-
ed stock. For one perllous moment he
was about to apologize for the mistake
made in the darkness, but some wise
instinct closed his lips. But he Won
dered why she had not corrected him.
They were seated at breakfast when
the senior Eden made his appearance.
He had slept off his debauch and was
as sober as a man in the throes Of al
coholic appetite may be. Seeing the
strangers, he hesitated in his lurch to-
ward the water pail, steadied himself
on widespread feet, very fiat on the
floor, and waved his right hand slowly
In afr ,G. L.
derstood as q form of salutation or a
gesture of defiance was a matter of in
depreciation.
"Vishitors," said the old man, at
length. "Alwaysh welcome, IN sure.
Sh-scush me-" He made his uncertain
way to the water-bench, took a great
drink and set about washing his face
and hands, while the breakfast pro-
ceeded in silence. AS his preparations
neared completion Irene set place at
the table.
won't you sit down here, Mr.. FL
den?" she said.
There had been no introductions.
Dave ate on In silence.
"Thank you," said the old man, and
there was something in his voice which
may have been emotion or may have
been the huskiness of the heavy drink
er's throat. The girl gave it the for
mer explanation. AS he took the prof
fered chair she saw in this old man
shreds of dignity which the less refined
eye of his son had not distinguished.
To Dave his father was an affection to
be borne; an unfair load laid on boy
who had done nothing to deserve this
punishment. The miseries associated
with his parentage had gone far to
make him sour and moody. Irene at
first had thought him rude and gloomy;
flashes of humor had modified that
opinion, but she had not yet learned
that his disposition was naturally a
buoyant one, weighed down by an en-
vironment which had made It soggy
and unresponsive. In years to come
she was to know what unguessed
depths of character we're to be re-