Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1919-03-08


They would like her to be a nun. a
eloistered num-
At the opening OF the door. the
wind tore the pictures from the piano.
Gerty ran into her room, shutting
herself in against further argument.
She came back into the room, pow
dered and heavily yelled against the
wind. A heavy winter ulster covered
/ the new null gown which she had not
worn at supper, though Innes could
have helped her with the hooksl But
there was always so much talk about
eyerythiDgl
They had to face the gale as the
machine swept down the wind-crazed
street.
It was too bad to have a night like
thisI And all her work-Tom and
his sister would have il go for moth
ingl She was made Of stubbOrner
stuff than that. Life had been deal
ing out mean hands to her. but she
would not drop out OF the game. ac-
knowledge herself beaten--luck would
turn, she would get better cards.
In the hall Of the Desert hotel, the
party was assembling. Mrs. Hardln's
rowing eye secured the hall. Richard
was not there. Patton called her from
the desk. Some one wanted her at
the telephone. 1t was Rickard, Of
course, at the Office; to say he had
been detained. The fear which had
been chilling her passed by.
1t was not Rickard on the wire, but
Mrs. Hatfield, loquacious and coquet-
fish. She urged a frlghtful neuralgia,
and hoped that she was not putting
her hostess TO any Inconvenience at
this last moment. She wanted to
prolong the conyersation-had the
guests all come? We're they really
going? Then she must be getting old,
for a night like this dismayed her!
Gerty felt her goodnight was rudely
abrupt. But was she to stand there
gabbllng all night, her guests wait
ing?
She prayed that Richard would be
there when she returned. What a
travesty if the guest Of honor should
disappoint herl Though he was not
among the different groups, her con-
fidence In his punctiliousness reas-
sured her. She must hold them a lit
tie longer She fitted gaily from one
standing group to another. Her eyes
constantly questioned the clock.
"How long are you going to wait
for Mrs. HatfeldT Her husband
came up, protesting.
MRS. Hatfield" she explained dis
family, lis not coming. We are wait
ing for Mr.. Richard"
"Ee didn't come In on that train:
he's at the Heading" Hardin added
something about trouble at the intake,
but Gerty did not heed. Tom had
known and had not told her when
there was yet time TO call it off
"A pretty time to tell me-" Had
he been looking at her, he would have
been left no illusions. Her blue eyes
flashed hate.
Il did not know it until we got
here. There was message from Mac
Lean at the desk, waiting"
MacLean was not there, either!
"We are all ready" she cried.
'Mrs. Hatfield and Mr.. Richard cannot
come.' Not for worlds would she give
In to her desire to call the whole
grim affair off; let them think she
was disappointed, not she. Though
the world blew away. she would go,
She found herself distributing slips
of mangled quotations. The white
slips went to the women; the green
bits of pasteboard to the men. She
held certain green card in her
glove: Leads on to fortune" Rick
ard might come dashing in at the last
moment, the ideal mans way; spe-
cial, perhaps; it did not seem credible
that he would deliberately stay away
without sending her word.
In burst Of laughter, the COM
pany discovered then that the guest
Of honor was also absent. Mrs.
Hardin hurried them out to the wait
ing bugges.
DrearIy, they drove down the fly
ing street. The wind was at their
backs, but II tore at their hats, pulled
at their tempers. Their eyes were
full of street dust.
A flash Of light as they were leav-
Ing town frightened the thick dust
clouds. "What was that?" cried Gerty.
She was ready for any calamity now.
Not lightning?" Again, the queer
light flashed across the obscured sky.
Tom reused himself to growl that he
hadn't seen anything. And the dreary
farce went on.
lnnes partner was young Sutcliffe,
the English zanjero. lie was in the
quicksand Of comparison between
English and American women, Innes
mischlevously coaxing him into deeper
waters, when there wns blockade
Of buggies ahead Of them.
'srhe A B @ ranch" cried Innes,
peering through the veil Of dust at
the queer unreal outlines Of fences
and trees. "It's our first stop"
"oh, | say. that's too bad" began
Sutcliffe. Innes was already on the
road, her skirts whipped by the wind
into clinglng drapery.
Gerty's party found itself disorgan-