The Belding banner-news. (Belding, Mich.) 1918-1973, 1920-04-07
CHAPTER XIII.

When Dave sprang into his car he
gave the motor full head and drove
through the city streets In fury of
recklessness. His mind was numbed
II was incapable of asserting thoughts
and placing them in proper relation
ship to one another. He was soon out
of the city, roaring through the still
autumn night with undiminished
speed.
Over tortuOus country roads, across
sudden bridges, along slippery hill
sides, through black bluffs of scrub
land-in some strange way he tried
to drown the uproar In his soul In the
frenzy OF the steel that qulvered be-
meath him. On and on into the night.
Bright stars cleaned overhead; soft
breeze pressed against his face; IL
was such night as he had driven. a
year ago, with Bert Morrison. Was
that only year ago? And what had
happened? Where had he been? Oh,
TO bring the boy-Charlie, the boy.
When was that? Under the calm
heaven his mind was already attempt
ing to establish sequence. to set It's
outraged home again in order.
Suddenly the car skidded on a slip
perry hillside. turned from the road,
plowed through clump of scrub
ricochetted against a dark obstruction,
poised moment on two wheels. turn
ed around, and stopped. The shock
brought Dave TO his senses. He sat
on the running board and stared for
a long while into the darkness.
''No use being a ID fool, any
way. Dave" he said to himself at
length. 81 got it--where l didn't ex-
pect it-but i guess that's the way
with everyone" He tried TO phlloso-
phize; to get fresh grip on him
self. where are we, anywayT he
continued This country looks famiI-
lar" He got up again and walked
about, finding his way back to the
road. He went along II little way.
Vague impressions suggested that he
should know the spot. and yet he
could not identify H. Then. with a
sudden shock, II came to him. 1t was
the hillside on which Doctor Hardy
had come TO grief: the hillside on
face, her wonderful eyes. A
poignancy of grief engulfed him,
sweening away his cheap philosophers.
Here she stood. young and clean and
enhancing. thrust before him In an
instant out of the wonderful days of
the past. And would she always fol-
low him thus? With an unutterable
sinking he knew that was so-that
the world was not big enough to hide
him from Irene Hardy. There was no
way out.
He started his motor. and even In
his despair felt a thrill of pride as the
faithful gears engaged and the car
climbed back TO It's place on the trail.
Was all faithfulness, then, In things of
steel and iron, and none in flesh and
blood? He followed the trail. Why
stop now? The long-forgotten ranch
buildings lay across the stream and
behind the tongue of spruce trees. I'M
less some wandering foothill fire had
destroyed them. He forded the stream
without difficulty. That was where he
had carried her out He felt
his way slowly along the old fence.
That was where she had set mp bottles
for his craftsmanship. He
stopped where the struggling gate
should be and walked carefully into
the yard. That was where she had
first called him Dave. Then
he found the doorstep and sat down
TO walt.
When the sun was well up he arose
and walked about. His lips were
parched; he found himself nibbling
them with his teeth, so he went to the
stream. He was thirsty. but he drank
only a mouthful; the water was fiat
and insipid. The old cabin was
In better repair than he would have
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 sun
was not yet Mt the meridian when he
found himself at the little nook In the
rock where he and Irene had sat that
afternoon when they had first laid their
hearts open TO each other. Suddenly
one remark stood up IN his memory.
The day IL coming" she had said.
when our country VIII want men who