The patriot. (Glenmora, La.) 1918-1955, 1919-04-18
HER ADVENTURE
BY AGNES G. BROGAN.
GopyrIght. I91a. by western Newspaper Union

| her afternoon. If only things haD-
pened in real life as they did in those
enchanting magazine stories!
In such setting as this, something
delightfully."- unexpected would be sure
to befall magazine heroine Yet here
was Cynthia, her fourth week at the
| Point, and each day following another
| in tiresOme Sameness. She had read
until interesting episodes merely pro-
voked by contrast to commonplace re-
| alities. She had not even triedsto be
companionable with the uninteresting
| young men who made the hotel their
headquarters while fishing or sailing
| the river. The woman guests also were
very ordinary with their constant plan
ming for dances and their endless ver-
anda conversations.
Her one pleasant relaxation was a
daily visit to the lighthouse, whose
white tower showed far away. There
was tiny garden at the back of the
lighthouse and room enough beyond
for Cynthia to moor her small boat.
The old keeper of the Point, who was
quite famous character with habi-
tues, was deaf, but he exacted little
conversation from his visitors, enter
tanning them instead, with true tales
worthy of the magazines to which
Cynthia subscribed
Old Charles life had been one of
adventure. There was a love story
woven through it too. story with a
sad ending, which had not embittered
the old mans CHEEKY spirit. Cynthia
loved to listen to his life story swing
ing in Charities hammock and speak
ing her admiration afterward-which
would bring a CLEAN of pleasure to
the seaman'S eyes-of his perfect
housekeeping. For the seaman's home
was the lighthouse. His bunk fitted
one end of the spotlesS kitchen.
On cloudless days Cynthia used to
climb up the narrow stair to the high
upper balcony. The view from here
was magnificent and the peaceful quiet
most inspiring. Old Charlie had many
visitors. but Cynthia was favorite of
them all.
Cynthia anchored her boat and
climbed the incline TO the lighthouse
door, Charlie was not in sight. He
had gone, no doubt, for his daily sup
plies and would soon return. Cynthia
decided to ascend to the high balcony
and to tlook the landscape DER"
She noticed as she came through the |
small iron door that clouds mo bigger |
than a mans hand" were scurrying |
across the sky. The swift breeze they |
occasioned came to her gratefully; the |
day had been exceedingly hot. Hyp- |
notically she watched the break of the |
waves as she crouched against the iron |
door. Then Cynthia fell asleep. 1t
was a rude beating blast which |
aroused her to consciousness and to |
the realization that the afternoon was
far spent and quick storm brewing.
She stood up clinging to the railing
as the wind tapped her skirts and
wondering whether it would be wise TO
venture now upon the homeward trip |
in her tiny craft or TO await in old
Charles comfortable kitchen the
cessation of the storm. AS heavy
drops fell upon her upturned face she
decided upon the latter course and
turned to open the towers iron door.
Then with gasp of disrnay Cynthia
found that she had thoughtlessiy
closed the door. which locked with a
spring and could only be opened from
the inner side.
Propping herself in a wise between
door and rail Cynthia sat, the wind
tearing at her, the rain FILLING upon
her unprotected head. In a last futile
effort she crept slowly around the high
tower. though she knew there was no
other means of descent save through |
the closed iron door. She could cry, of
course, but who could heed her sob
bling? No, she must hopelessiy cling.
a bit of human driftwood. buffeted by /
the elements.
BY and by the lights would CLEAN
out around her, showing across the
angry waters-still she would be alone
perhaps throughout the night. 1t
would not likely occur TO those at the
hotel that she had stopped at the light
house They would be more likely to
think her safely sheltered in the Yacht
club.
Peering through her wet hair, Gym
thia discerned at last another motor
boat making its troubled way through
the waves-it had touched shore-old
Charlie perhaps returned from his err
rand. Cynthia determined to scream:
a piercing scream might reach his dead
ear drums. But there was no response.
In her really critical position the girl
laughed TREMENDOUSLY. Well-here was
her adventure at last
Then, Just as he should've hero
came Sharply the iron door was flung
open. severe young man scowled
down upon the crouching girl.
Just as expected he said angrily.
"and your daring might have led you
to even more than this, Cynthia"
Masterfully the hero gathered the
crestfallen wet little figure up In his
arms; inside the door, he waited.
"When / arrived at the hotel this
afternoon and they told me that you
n H,.,G 4