The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1920-02-26
BY
Robert C. Stead
Author Of
- Kitchener and
Other Poems
Illustrations by
IRWIN MYERS

~ w " " W ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ -
! thought. He sprung the door open
1t was musty and strung with cob
webs. He did not go in but sat down
and tried to think.
Later he walked up the canyon. He
must have walked swiftly. for the sur
was not yet at the meridian when he
| found himself at the little nook in the
rock where he and Irene had sat thai
| afternoon when they had first laid theiI
hearts open to each other. Suddenly
one remark stood up in his memory
''The day is coming" she had said
when our country will want men who
can shoot and ride" And he had said
We'll, when it does it can call on me-
And today the country did want men
who could shoot and ride, and he had
flown into the foothills to nurse q
broken heart. Broken hearts
can fight as well as whole ones. He
could be of some use yet At any rate
there was a way out.
Some whim led him through the
grove of spruce trees on his way back
to the ranch. Here, in an open space,
he looked about, kicking in the dry
grass. At length his toe disturbed a
few bleached bones. and he stood and
looked with unseeing eyes far across
the shinmering valley.
Brownie" he said at length.
Brownie The whole scene came
back upon him-the moonlight. and
Irene's distress. and the little bleed
ing body. And he had said he didn't
know anything about the justice of
God; all he knew was the critter that
couldn't run was the one that got
caught And he had said that
was life. He had said il was
only nature.
And then they had stood among the
trees and beneath the white moon and
pledged their faith.
Again his head went up and the old
light flashed in his eyes. 1.-The first
thing is to kill the WOLF he said
aloud. NO other innocent shall fall
to his fangs. Then-my country"
Darkness had again fallen before
Dave found his car threading the
streets of the city, still feverish with
its newborn excitement of war. He
returned his car to the garage; an
attendant looked up curiously-it was
evident from his glance that Dave had
already been missed-but no words
were exchanged. He stood for mo-
ment in the street, collecting his
thoughts and rehearsing his resolves.
He was amazed to find that, even
in his bitterness, the city reached
thousand hands 10 him-hands of
habit and association and customs OF
mind-all urging him back into the
old groove; all saying: 1.-The routine
is the thing. Be a spoke in the wheel !;
go round with the rest of u.s.
NO" he reminded himself. 'eNo, [
can't do that. 1 have business on
hand. First-to kill the wolf
He remembered that ne had given
his revolver to Irene. And suddenly
she sat with him again at the tea
table. Where was he? Yes,
he had given his revolver 70 Irene.
Well, there was another i'll his rooms
In the hallway of the block In
which he had his bachelor apartments
Dave almost collided with a waman.
He drew back, and the light fell on
his face, but hers was in the shadow
And then he heard her voice
'Oh, Dave, I'm so glad Why,
what has happened?" The last words
ran into n little treble of pain as she
noted his haggard face.
''YOu-Edith? he managed to say.
'Whatever-''
She came toward him and placed
her hands on his 1--WE heen here q
hundred times-ever since morning
ever since Bert Morrison called up TO
say you had disappeared-that there
was some mystery. There isn't, is
there, Dave? You're all right, Dave.
aren't you, Dave?'
CTO BE CONTINUED