The Dillon herald. [volume] (Dillon, S.C.) 1894-????, 1919-03-27


sence cover for their rendezvous.
"Im looking for SamF' The effort
behind the words turned them into an
oratorical challenge.
$50 are we. ! want to send him
home with Mrs. Hardin. She's worn
out"
'.She can 20 home with me. am go
ing directly. As soon as I give mes
sage to SAM" She instantly regretted
her words, abruptly halting. 1t came
to her that Richard would insist upon
delivering her message. OF course, he
would oppose her going. Some petty
reason or other. She knew from the
men that he was oppositional. that he
liked to show his power. Not safe, he
would say, or the horse was needed,
or Sam too busy to walt on heri
: "You cannot 60 home alone, you
two. The town Is full Of strange In
dams. Give me your lantern. Miss
Hardin; I'll rout out that darky."
| .Rebelllously she gave him the Ian
tern. The light turned full on her
averted angry eyes.
A naughty ,Thusnelda followed him,
Sam was discovered asleep In tho
only room where the windows had not
yet been attacked. His head rested on
q bundle Of sacked trees which the
ladies of the Improvement club had
planned to plant the next day. Deep
snores betrayed his refuge.
"Here, Sam! I want you to take
these ladies home. Chase yourself.
They've been working while you've
slept. I thought you'd have all these
windows out by now"
Gerty had to supply the courtesy for
two. She told Mr.. Rickard In her ap-
pealing way that he had been very
kind; that she "would have been
frightened to death to go home alone"
Innes had to say something! "Good-
night!' The words had an insulting
ring. g.
The wind covered passionate 81
lence, as the two women, followed by
Sam, yawning and stretching, made
their way down the shrieking street.
'Tt was true" Innes was thinking. She
had at last stumbled on the rout, but
it was not matter of personal, but
moral untidiness; not carelessness
of pins or plates, of tapes or dishes. 1t
was far worse; a slackness Of ethics.
It meant more unhappiness for Tom.
Her aching muscles told her that
she could not have slept four hours
when the darky was back, knocking at
her door.
Innes' horse loped through the
silent streets. t<
'I'll run past the levee; perhaps
Tom has come back" 1t occurred to
her that there might be message at
the hotel. She pulled on her left rein,
and swept past the deserted adobe.
AS she reined in her horse, Rickard,
stepped out on the sidewalk. He, too,
was heavy-eyed from snatched nap.
"Were you looking for meT"
The scorn In the girls face told him
that his question was stupid. For
him!
"Has my brother come back"
He said he did not know. "You can
see have been dreaming" She would
not smile back at him. but rode OF
toward the levee.
Was this the river? West Of the
levee, sea Of muddy water spread
over the land. There was yet chance
TO save the towns, the town, she cor
rected herself, as her eye fell on the
Mexican village across the ditch. For
Mexicali was doomed. Some of the
mud huts had already fallen; the wa
ter was running close to the station
house.
She saw Wooster standing near, cal
culating the distance, the time, per-
haps, before the new station would 60.
She hailed Wooster. Ruin was pre-
saced in the lines Of his forehead.
"Pretty bad?" she cried.
He shook his head.
as Tom back?'
"He's over there, now. Fighting like
all possessed. He'll work till he
drops" Wooster WIS proud of that
method.
"We all know Tom" Her pride
sprang up. "But he's got to stop for
a while. Pm going up after him."
"Not If my names Wooster. I'll go.
He'll mind me-
She watched the flowing river, swol-
len with wreckage. She saw, with
comprehension, Il section OF a fence;
somebody's crop gone. There was
railway tie, another! The river was
eating up Estrada's new roadbed? A
cry broke from her as mesquit on
! the coffee -colored tide caught on n
buried snag. The current swirled dan
gerously around it. Instantly, the wa
ter rose toward the top Of the levee.
Men came running to pry away the