The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1919-11-13

1t scarcely seemed probable that enc
man alone. or even two men, had com
mitted this crime, and the sole sur
vivor disappear so completely with the
prisoners. I had turned each detail
over and Yer in my thought, while
| worked, yet to but little purpose.
The only present solution of the prob
lem seemed 10 be our return TO that
hidden basin where our boat lay, and
then remaining there in concealment
until the darkness Of another night
rendered ii safe TO once more venture
the river.
| spoke Of this to her, as I finally
approached where she rested on the
stump, eager aud glad 70 escape from
all memories of that somber cabin l
had just left.
"You-you are no longer so conf
dent" she said; "your plan has
failed?"
81 am afraid it has," I admitted,
for it was based altogether on the
assistance Of Amos Shrunk. He is no
longer alive. and I do not know where
to turn for guidance. There would
seem to be DANCE. in every direction
the only question is-in which way lies
the least?"
"You begin to Iegret your attempt
20 aid me?"
mo" impulsiyely. $50 far as that
goes l would do il all over again. Your
safety means more to me now than
ever before-you must believe that"
"Why should 1? All 1 have brought
you is trouble. / can read in your
face how discouraged you are. You
must not think / do not understand.
/ do understand-perfectly. What you
have done has been only a response
to impulse: merely undertaken
through "A spirit of adventure. Then
then why not let it end here, and
Sam ami / can 90 on TOTO whatever
is before us? II is nothing to You"
you actually believe l would con-
sent TO that?' l asked in startled sur
prise at the vehemence of her words.
'"That / could prove such a cur?"
but why not? 1t would not be
n cowardly act at all. l could not
7 blullit .Ou, Iva A ldNc hO CldlII VII
your service-never have had. You
have done a thousand times too much
already you have risked honor, repu-
tation. and neglected duty to aid my
escape; and-and / am nothing to you
can be nothing"
Nothing to me?"
Certainly not. Why speak like
fhoto JI,,a Foctta, .rayp +hat
/ am a slave-a negress? Think,
Lieutenant Knox. what Ii would mean
To YOU o be caught in my company I;
to be ,overtaken while attempting to
assist me in escaping from my master.
Now no one dreams Of such a thing,
and nc n ever need dream. You
have had your adventure; let ii end
here. j shal be grateful to you al
ways, but-bnt l cannot bear to drag
you deeper into this mire."
you order me to leave you?"
~ cannot order; l am a slave. My
only privilege is to request. urge, i'm
plore. | can merely insist that it will
be best-best for us both-for you to
90. Surely you also must realize that
this is true?"
You have been brooding over all
this" / said geHtly. Sitting here alone,
and thinking while we worked. l am
not going to answer you now There
is no need. Nothing can be lone until
night. whatever we decide upon. You
will go back with us to the boatg"
YES; l simply cannot stay here
her eyes wandering toward the cabin.
/ took the lead on the return, find
ing the path easy enough TO follow in
the full light Of day. The sincere hon
esty of her plea-the knowledge that
she actually mean it-only served to
draw me closer, to strengthen my de-
termination not to desert. Her face
was ever before me as l advanced-a
bravely pathetic face, wonderfully
wamaniy in its girlish contour-ap-
peahag to every Impulse OF my man
hood. i admitted the truth of what
she said--it had been largely love Of
adventure, the rash recklessness of
youth. which had brought me here.
But this was my inspiration no longer.
/ had begun to realize that something
deeper, more worthy. 10Y held me to
the task. What this was l made no
attempt TO analyze-possibly l did not
d~are-but. nevertheless, the mere con-
ception of deserving her in the midst
OF this wilderness was toe utterly re-
pugnant for expression. No. not that:
whatever happened it would never be
that.
The last few rods Of our journey
lay through thick underbrush. and be-
meath the spreading branches OF inter-
laciEg trees Suddenly l emerged
upon the bank of the creek, with the
rude log wharf directly before me. L
stopped transfxed, staring at the wa
ter-nothing else greeted my eyes I;
both the boats were gone.
This unexpected discovery came TO
me like a blow; the very breath
seemed to desert my lungs. as I
stared down at the vacant stream. We
had been ou~tgeneralcd. tricked, and all
our theories as 10 what had occurred
.x-cro wrcrg Tho ssrtr VIC hal naru