Roanoke Rapids herald. [volume] (Roanoke Rapids, N.C.) 1914-192?, 1920-04-23

III RoinS W SlhN UP mere COUPE VI
weeks and break him In myself. But
how do you manage to get money to
clothe Yourself? Sinclair tells me
Mae needs every cent of his two hun
dred and fifty dollars II month to enjoy
himself"
u used to steal from him." the girl
admitted. "Then | grew ashamed Of
that, and for the past six months I've
been earning my own living. Mr.. SIN
clair was very kind He gave me a
job waiting on table In the camp din
Ing room You see, had to have
something here. | couldn't leave my
father. He hGd TO have somebody to
take care of him. Don't you see, Mr.
Brycew
sinclair Is fuzzy old fool" Bryce
declared with emphasis "'rhe idea Of
our woodsboss's daughter singing
hash TO lunlberjacks. Poor MORA !"
He took one Of her hands In his,
noting the callous spots on the plump
palm, the thick finger joints that hint
ed so of toll the nails that had never
been mancured save by Moiru herself,
'Do you remember when | was a boy,
Mora, how | used to come up 10 the
lCgging-camps to hunt and fish? | al
ways lived with the McTaviShes then
And In September, when the buckle
berries were ripe. we used TO 20 out
and pick them together. Poor MORA
Why, we're old pals, and III be shot
if I'm going to see you suffer. Listen,
MORN. I'm going to fire your father,
aS I've said because he's working for
old j. Il. now. not the Cardigan Red
wood Lumber company, | really ought
to pension him after his long years IN
the Cardigan service, hut I'll be
hanged II wr can afford pensions any
more-pnwirularly 70 keep Il man In
booze; So the hesl onr old woods-hoSs
gets from me Is this >hauty, or another
like il when we move To new cuttings,
and Il perpetual mea-ticket for our
camp dining room while the Cardi-
canS remain in business. I'd finance
him for a "trip to some state inStitu-
tion where they sometimes reclaim
such wreckage If didn't think he's
too old dog to be taught new tricks
"Perhaps," she suggested sadly
you had better talk the matter over
with him.
mo, I'd rather not. I'm fond of your
father, Mora. He was a man when
| saw him last-such a man as these
woods will never see again-and |
don't want 10 see him again until he's
cold sober. I'll write him a letter. As
for you, Mora, you're fired. TOO. I'll
not have you waiting on table in my
logging-camp-not by joyful You're
TO come down to Sequ0ia and go to
work in our office. We can use you on
the books, helping Sinclair, and re-
lieye him Of the task of billing, check
ing mllieS, and looking after the Ray
roll. I'll pay you hundred dollars
IA month, MORA. Can you get along
on thatG'
Her hard hand closed over his
tightly, but She did not speak.
"Al right MORA. It's a 20, then.
There. there, girl, don't cry. We
Carligans lad twenty-five years Ct
faithful service from Donald McTay-
ish before he commenced slipping;
after all, we owe him something,
think"
She drew his hand suddenly to her
lips and kissed it; her hot tears OF
10y fell on 1t, but her heart was too
full for mere words.
''Fiddle.de-dee, MORA Buck up"
he protested, hugely pleased, but EN-
barrassed withal. THE way you take
this. one would think you had expect |
ed me to 90 back on an old pal and |.
had been pleasantly surprised when
didn't Cheer up, MORA! I'll tell you
what I'll do. I'll advance you two
salary for-well, you'll need
n lot of clothes and things In Sequoia I
that you don't need here. And Tn
glad I'VE managed to settle the Nc
lavish hash without kicking up row
and hurting your feelings. Poor old |
Mac! I'm sorry can't hear with him I
but we simply have to have the logs
you know
He rose stopped, and pinched her
ear: for had he not known her since
and had they not gathered
huckleherrieS together in the long I
ago? She was sister to him-just an |
other one of his problems-and moth /
ing more Report on the job as soon /
ms possible, Molra," he called to her
from the gate.
Presently. when MORA lifted her /
Madonna glance TO the frieze of tim
her on the skyline, there was new
glory in her eyes; and 10. ii was au-
tumn In the woods, for over that hill |
Prince Charming had come to her, and
life was all crimson and gold!
! When the train loaded with Cardl- |
gan logs crawled in on the main track |
and stopped at the log-landing In Pen
nlngton's camp, the locomotive I'M
coupled and backed In on the siding
for the purpose Of kicking the caboose,
In which Shirley and Colonel Penning-
ton had ridden to the woods, out onto
the main line again-where, owing to
a slight downhill grade, the caboose
controlled by the brakeman could
coast gently forward and be hooked
onto the end of the log train for the
return journey to Sequoia.
Throughout the afternoon Shirley,
following the battle royal between
Bryce and the Pennington retainers,
had sat disrnally In the caboose. She