Cheyenne record., 1919-07-31
CHAPTER VII-Continued.

-
The windStorm the previous week
mad made a sicBening devastation Of
Ter labors. The morning -glories alone
we're scatheless. A pink oleander
1rooped many broken branches from
which miracles of perfect flowers were
unfolding. The. prettiest blossom to
Hardin was the gardener herself. She
was vivid from eager toll. Hardin
ooked at her'approbatively. He liked
aer khaki suit, simple as uniform.
with Its flowing black tie and leather
oelt. She looked more like herself to-
day. She had bleached out, in Tucson.
She had been letting herself get too
tanned, running around without hats.
Sunburn paled the value of those
splendid eyes of hers He could always
,ease her by likeninx them to oopazes.
His eyes ran over the pink and pur-
pie tines of cord-.rained vines which
nade floral screnas for her tent. Free
4 the strings overhead, they rioted
over the raHada. the second roof. of
living bough1. lie acknowledged their
beauty. They gave grace to bare ne
ressityI they denied the painting
thirsty desert just beyond.
He remembered his own ramada.
9erty had hated 1t, had complained Of
It 70 bitterly when she came home
from New York that he had had it
pulled down and replaced by V roof
Of pine boards. glaring and ugly. Gerty
was satisfied. for it was clean; she no
longer felt that she lived In a squaw
house. Let the Indians have ramadas /;
there was no earthly reason she should.
He had urged that the desert dwellers
had valuable hints to give them. But
what was remain to him, or anything
alse2 HardiD turned to leave.
She did not want him to go SO soon.
She pOtnted out q new vine to him.
She had brought 1t from Tucson;
"Kudzu," they called it; q japanese
vine. And there was another broken
rose, quite beyond the help Of stripped
handkerchiefs and mesquit splints.
He followed her around the tent. her
prnttie falling from his grim mood. He
was not thinking Of her flowers except
as mocking parallel. The desert
storm had made havoc Of his garden
"a sorry botch Of his life. He and
tnnes had been trying to make n gar
Sen out OF desert: the desert had
1outcd them. 1t was not his fault.
Something had happened; something
quite beyond his power. Luck was
turning against him.
Innes. why. she was playing as with
/ toy. 1t was the natural instinct Of n
woman to make things pretty around
her. But he had sacrificed his youth.
his chances. His domestic life, too
4e should never have carried a dainty
little woman like Gerty into the des-
ert He had never rcproached her for
leaving him, even last time when he
thought 1t was for good. The word
burned his wound Whose good? His
Or Gertys2 Somehow. though they
wrangled. he always knew 1t would
turn out all right; life would run
But things were getting worse; his
mouth puckered over some recollec-
ions. Yet he loved Gerty; he couldn't
picture life without her He decided
mat II was because there had never
been anyone else. Most fellows had
lad sweethearts before they married;
Ne had not, nor mistress when she
feft him. though God knows. it would
have been easy enough. His mouth
.ell into sardOnic lines. Those half
breed women! No one. even when a
aivorce had hung over him. oh. he
knew what their friends made Of each
" Gerty's heightened flights he knew
But thnt had been spared him. that
vulgar grisly spectacle of modern life
when two people who have been lovers
1rag the carcass of their love over the
Erimy floor OF Il curious gaping court.
He shuddered. Gcrty loved him. Else,
Why had she come back to him? Why
had she not kept her threat when he
."fused to abandon his desert project
md turn his abilities into more
profitable dedication? He could see
aer face as she stared flushing up into
bis that nippiug cold day when he had
-uu into her on Broadway. He remem-
3ered her Coquetry when she suggest
I'd that there was plenty of room in
rec apartment! His wife! She spoke
= seeing his pictures in the papers
80 had grown 20 be a great mani"
IA. ftsasnt sseeting. the week fol-