The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1920-07-08
realized that however stern her seeres

Inc CilulhX HHu Detn TeHCHtu-hHu
passed; and the result had been far
from the disaster he had painted 10
his minds eye ever since the knowl-
edge had come to him that he was
doomed to battle to a knockout with
Colonel Pennington, and that one OF
the earliest fruits of hostilities would
doubtless be the loss of Shirley Sum-
ner's priced friendship. Well, he hod
lost her friendship, but still small
voice whispered to him that the loss
was not rreparable-wherea he
swung his axe as a bandmaster swings
his baton; be was glad that he had
started the war and was now free to
fight II out unhampered.
Up hill and down dale he went.
Within two hours his long. tireless
stride brought him out into clearing
In the valley where his own logging
camp stood. He went directly to the
log-landing. where In listless and
Lalf-hearted manner the loading crew
were piling logs on PenaiB gtons log
ging trucks.
Bryce looked at his watch. II was
two o'clock; at two fifteen Penning-
tons locomotive would appear, to back
In and couple to the long line of
trucks. And the train was only half
loaded.
Where's McTavish?" Bryce de-
manded Of the donkey-driver.
The man mou.hed his qud. spat
copiously. wipcd his mouth with the
back of his baud, and pointed. up
at his shanty," he made answer, and
grinned at Bryce knowingly.
Up through the camps single short
street. flanked on each side with the
woodsmen's shanttes, Bryce went. At
the most pretentious shanty on the
street Bryce turned in. He had never
seen II before, but he knew IL to be
the woods-boss's home, for unlike its
neighbors the house was painted with
the coarse red paint that is used on
box-cars, while a fence, made OF fancy
pointed pickets painted white, inclosed
a tiny garden In front of the house.
AS Bryce came through the gate a
young girl rose from where she knelt
In bed of freshly transplanted
pansies.
Bryce lifted his hat. rs Mr.. Nc
lavish at homer" he asked.
She nodded. "He cannot see any
body" she hastened to add. Hes
sick"
Il think he'll see me. And wonder
If you're MORA McTavisn.-
i"Yes, Pm Moira,"
I'm Bryce Cardigan"
A look of fright crept into the girls
eyes. Are you-Bryce Cardigan?"
she faltered, and looked at him more
closely. "Yes, you're Mr.. Bryce. You've
changed-but then it's six years since
we saw you last Mr.. Bryce"
He came toward her with outstretch-
ed hand. ""And you were little girl
when / saw you last. Now-you're a
woman" She gynsped his hand with
the frank hearthless Of a man.
I'm twenty years DID," she Informed
him.
stand right where you are until /
have looked at you," he commanded,
and backed off few feet, the better
to contemplate her.
He saw girl slightly above medium
height, tanned, robust. simply gowned
In gingham dress. Her hands were
soiled from her recent labors in the
and her shoes were heavy
and coarse; yet neither hands nor feet
were large or ungraceful. Her head
was well formed; her hair, jet black |
and of unusual lustre and abundance.
was parted In the middle and held In |
IN old-fashioned coil at the nape OF |
4 neck the bpauty of which was re-
Tealed by the low cut of her simple |
rock. Her nose was patrician, her |
ACE oval; her lips. full and red, were
slightly parted In the adorable Cupid's
low which Is the inevitable heritage Of |
short upper lip; her teeth were
white as Parian marble; and her full
,reast was rising and falling swiftly.
rs IL she labored under suppressed ex-
,itement.
SO delightful picture did MORA
AcTavish make that Bryce forgot all
lis troubles in her sweet presence.
BY the gods, Moira." he declared
you're peachI When /
Jaw you last, you were awkward and
eggy, like colt. I'm sure you weren't
bit good-looking. And now you're
he most ravishing young lady in sew
'nteen counties. By lingo, Moira,
'ou're a sumner and no mistake. Are
'ou marriedT
She shook her head, blushing pleas
lrably at his unpublished but sincere
what? Not married. Why, what
he deuce can be the matter with the
Eligible young fellows hereaboutsY
There aren't any eligible young fel-
ows hereabouts, Mr.. Bryce. And I've
ived In these woods all my life."
Are you lonely. Moirar
She nodded.
Poor MORN ~ he murTuured nh !