Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1919-04-12
CHAPTER XXI.
The White Night.

Lord, I'm tired, grOaned Richard,
stumbling into camp, wet to the skin.
eDon't you say letters to me, Mac.
I'm going to bed. Tell Ling l don't
want any dinner. He'll want to fuss
up something. l don't want to see
food"
The day, confused and jumbled,
burned across his eyeballs; a turmoil
Of hustle and hurry of instruction. He
had made q swift stand against that.
He was to be minded to the last man
Jack of them, or anyone would 60, his
threat including the engineers, Silent,
Irish, Wooster, Hardin himself. This
was no time for factions, for leader
feeling.
In bed, the day with its ~irritatlons
fell away. He could see now. the step
ahead that had been taken; the last
trestle was done; the rock-pOuring
well on; he called that going some!
He felt pleasantly languid, but not yet
sleepy. His thought wandered over the
resting camp. And then lines Hardin
came to him.
Not herself, but as q soft little
thought which came creeping around
the corner of his dreams. She had,
been there, of course, all day, tucked
away In his mind, as though in his
home waiting for him to come back to
her, weary from the pricks of the day.
The way he would come home to her,
please God, some day. Not bearing
his burdens to her, he did not believe
n that, but asking her diversions. Con-
tentment spread her soft wings over
MIN. He fell asleep.
Richard Weakened as to a call. What
had startled him? He listened, rails
Ing himself by his elbow. From a dis
lance, a sweet high voice, unreal in its
pitch and thrilling quality, came to
him. 1t was Godfrey, somewhere on
the levee, singing by the river. 1t
brought him again to lines Hardin.
He pulled aside his curtain which
hung over the screening of his tent
and looked out into a moon.fooded
world. Richards eyes fell on q little
tent ove yonder, n white shrine
white as that fine sweet soul OF
hers!"
Wandering into the night, Godfrey
passed down the river, singing. His
voice, the footlights, the listening
great audiences were calling to him
To him, the moon-fiOoded levee, the
gllstening water, made a star-set
scene. He was treadlng the boards
the rushing waters by the bank gave
the orchestration for his melody-"La
Donna e Mobile" He began it to Gerty
Hardin she would hear It in her tent
she would take 1t as the tender re,
proach he had tcased here with that
afternoon In the ramada.
He gave for encore a ballad long
forgotten; he had pulled It back from
the cobwebs OF two decades; he had
made 1t his own.
"But, my darling, you will be,
Ever young and fair to me-"
It came, the soaring voice, to Tom
Hardin. outside Gerty's tent on his
lonely cot. he knew that song. Dis
dalned by his wife, a pretty figure 0
man cutsl II his wife can't stand
him, who CAM BE wasn't good enough
for her. He was rough. His life had
kept him from fitting himself to her
taste. She needed people who could
talk like Richard, sing like Godfrey
People, other people, might miscon.
strue her preferences. lie knew they
were not filrtations; she needed hel
kind. She would always keep straight
she was straight as a whip. Life was
rs hard for her as II was for him; he
could feel sorry for her; his pity was
divided between the two Of them, the
husband. the wife, both lonely In their
own way.
On the other side Of the canvas
walls, Gerry Hardin lay listening tc
the message meant for her. The tickle
sex, he had called hers; no constaney
In woman, he had declared, fondllng
her hair, he had tried to coax hei
into pledges, pledges which were also
d%isavowals to the man outside.
Silver threadsl Age shuddered al
her threshold. She hated that song.
Cruel, life had been to her; none Of Its
promises had been kept. To be happy,
why, that was a humans blrthright
grab 1t, that was her creedl There
was a chance yet; youth had not gone.
he was singing II to her, her escape
Darling. you viii be,
Ever young and fair to me"
Godfrey, singing to Gerty Hardin,
had awakened the camp. lines, In
her tent, too, was listening.
"Darllng, you viii be.
Ever young and fair to mel"
So that Is the miracle, that Wild
rush Of certain feellngi Yesterday,