The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1919-08-22

"She all time makee trouble. She
clazy. She think woman vellee fine
cook. She show Ling cookee plunes.
Teachee Ling cookee plunes! I no
stay that woman" Unutterable final
ity in the leathern face. Richard and
MacLean, Jr., exchanged glances
which deepened from concern into
perplexity. They could not afford to
lose Ling. And offend Mrs. Hardin.
the camp already Hardinesque?
Richard grew placating. He spent
half hour wheedling. They met at
the starting place. Ling go tamale."
"Oh, Lord" groaned the manager,
captivating. Gall right, Ling"
With the dignity of an oriental
prince, Ling battered out of the tent,
Richard was pickering his lips at his
secretary. I'D rather take castor
OIL"
A half hour later, MacLean saw his
chief leave his tent. He was in fresh
linens.
81 wouldn't swap places with him
this minute! She'll be as mad as q
wet hen!"
Mrs. Hardin, from her bed by her
screen window, saw him coming. She
slipped into seminegligee of. alter
nate rows of lace and swiss construct
ed for such possible emergencies. She
did not make the mistake of smooth
ing her hair; her instinct told her
that the fluffy disorder bore out the
use Of the negligee. She was sew
ing in her ramada when Richards
knock sounded on the screen door.
Despite his protests she started wa
ter boiling in her chatting dish. He.
had not time for tea, he declared, but
she insisted on making this call Of
social nature. She opened a box of
sugar waters, her zeal that Of child
with toy kitchen; she was playing
dolls house.
Richard made several openings for
his errand, but her wits sped like
gopher from his labored digging.
She met his mood with wOmanly dig
nifty; she tutored her coquetries, with
held her archness.
AAC 1ouhu hC nave ~ OASSuko
diplomacy, blurt out his message; use
.bludgeons for this scampering agility.
"My mission is little awkward,
Mrs. Hardin. I hope you will take it
all right, that you will not be Of
Tended"
"Offended?" Her face showed
alarm.
TITS about Ling. He's a queer fell
low; they all are, you know" He
was laundering like schoolboy I'M
der the growing shadow in Gerty's
blue eyes. 'They resent authority
that is, from women. He is a tyrant,
Ling is"
"Yes?" All, she would not help him.
Let him founder!
"He wants to be let alone; he
doesn't appreciate your kind help,
Mrs. Hardin" rs s.
"Oh!" Her eyes were hot with
tears-angry tears. She could not
speak or would not. She sat In her
spoiled dolls house, all her pleasure
in her toy dishes, her pretty finery,
ruined. He could not care If he could
humiliate her so. It was the most
vivid moment Of her life. Not even
when Richard had left her, with his
kisses still warm on her lips, had she
felt so outraged. He was treating her
as though she were q servant-dis-
charging her-because she was the
wife of Hardin. Her eyes grew black
with anger; she hated them both; be-
tween them, their jealousy, their RI
valry, what had they made of her life?
She remembered the woman she had
seen in his ramada; she had heard
that the Mexican was In camp, en-
ployed by Richard. Her thoughts were
like swarming hornets.
He's an ungrateful beast, Mrs.
Hardin. told him I would not let
you waste your kindness one instant
longer"
Oh. she understood! A bitter pleas
ure to see him so confused. Richard,
before whose superior appraisement
she had so often wilted! She would
not help him out, never! She rose
when he paused. He thanked her for
meeting him half way, and her smile
was inscrutable.
$50 I'm discharged?"
"You can't be discharged If you've
never been employed, can you? Thank
you once again, and for your tea. 1t
was delicious. wish Ling would give
us tea like that"
Boorish, all of it, and laundering!
Why wouldn't he go? When he had
hurt her SOL had hurt her so!
Her hand met his, but not her eyes.
If he did not go quickly something
would happen; he would see her cry
ing. The angels that guard blunderers
got Richard out of the tent without
suspicion of threatening tears. She
threw off her negligee and the pale
blue slip; the tears must wait for
that. Then she flung herself on her
bed and shook it with the grief of
wounded vanity.
That evening the chief had a visi-
tor The wife of Maldonado, some of
the fear pressed out of her eyes,
brought in his Numbered khakis,
socks, darned and matched; all the
missing buttons replaced.
81 haven't worn q matched SOCK"
he told her, ''for months. That's great,
sonora"
He wanted to get to bed, but she lin
gered. She wanted to talk to him
about her troubles; he had cautioned
her against talking about them in