The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1921-01-27

graZed a rib, but seemingly a not
broken II. With that encouraging feet
established. and the sting Of the
wound much allayed. the mind of the
man began reaching forward to the
night; the all-!mportant night-when
a certain suave Individual in q frock
coat would come TO feed a certain
horse. He said no word Of this to the
girl already binding the bandages
around the clean-washed wound. She
would have secuted the bare sugges-
ton of the things he was planning TO
do the moment the dark vas sufficient
ly dense to hide him.
She drew what vas left OF his tat
tered shirt and blouse over the ban
dage at last, laid his wounded arm
across his breast and slung il there by
a strip of cloth passed up around his
neck. and helped him to his feet.
1t shamed him that he was abso-
lutely compelled to cling fast To her,
to lean heavy upon her, or so back TO
the rock. His face was far too white
TO show the modification he felt. but
she saw 1t in his eyes. Lifting his
well arm and laying 1t across her
shoulders. she caught her left arm
about his blouse waist and steadied
him.
The Wild Rose seemed to have TAX
en- toll of every bit Of sunshine that
ever struck the Flatwoods. That was
the distinguishing feature of her per-
sonality. That and her good. sound
sense. Her face was beaming full of
both right now-the sunshine and the
sense. She was smiling up at him, he
knew. He was staring away above her
head-but he knew. The smile grad.
ually drew his eyes d&yn out of the
trees. He could no more help 1t than
he could help leaning upon her. She
laughed-a h%eartening little laugh
like the happy water curling against
the ledge. He laughed back. He
couldn't help it. The restraint was
broken; the smart gone.
He glanced down at the ledge before
leaving to see that no tell-tale blood
spots or bits of cloth were left. A
needless precaution-her woodcraft
was as fine as his own.
How she managed to lead him, half
carry him, out of the rocky and brok-
en- gulches Of Fox Den and down the
rough banks of Wolf Run to the cabin
of the three gables she never knew.
Neither did he. 1t always remained q
matter of wonder to him. Who does
know the source of power-that mys-
terious augmentation of strength-that
comes TO a woman in a crisis?
She led him into the house and to
the sofa in the main room; the queer
little leather-covered bed that had
stirred his curiosity the afternoon of
his first visit two days before.
The old man vas not in the room.
She must have caught his eyes search
ing for him.
Daddy" she answered to the eyes.
HE often spends hours away. Therell
be little pass in the woods today that
he won't see, though nobody will see
him. Poor Daddyw
"We1l send for that surgeon tomor-
row." he said.
She was back In a moment, carrying
a pan of water, fresh bandages, and a
formidable-looking brown bottle-cam-
phor, the universal first aid in the
Flatwoods. The b~lood-soaked ban
dages were deftly removed and the
wound re-washed. She picked up the
brown bottle.
81 am sorry to hurt you," she said.
'But it will keep the fever down."
you're the DOCTOR" a his slow
answer.
She uncorked the bottle and applied
some of it's contents to the wound with
a bit of cotton. Hurt! 1t hurt SO that
he laughed.
Anything to get ready for tonight"
he grinned, under the bite of the pow
erful a~ntiseptic.
Tonight - she repeated blankly.
"Why. you mustn't think"
81 must, though. Big things depend
gather In his eyes. Hell think I've
left the Flatwoods." he muttered on,
more to himself than to her. ITS
what he's been waiting for. His game
tonight !-and-T
The girl saw the fingers of his right
hand clench against his palm-doubt-
less quite unconsciously-while the
knotted ridges of his great forearm
punched and swelled; but the full
meaning of the muttered words hap
PLY missed her.