Evening star., 1921-08-07

confronted neT, IL IOOk On dH d0ueu
poignancy. clumsy symbolism which
more and more appealed to her. And
now she could prolong the parallel,
She could make the confidence COM
plete. The chance to do that would
come when she stood before young
Craswell. in his tin spurs and his
Mexican sash and his burnt lumber
makeup. with her six-shooter in her
hand. Into that six-shooter. before
every performance, Hunkie Hoppe,
who acted as props, duly thrust his
half-dozen blank cartridges. 1t would
be easy enough, at the last moment,
to substitute a ball cartridge for one
sufficiently simple. once she was sure
Of her cartridge being there. For the
shot, she remembered. was fired point
blank, with her sneering victim fall
ing close to her feet. The actor who
had preceded young Craswell, in fact.
ing a sheet of asbestos fixed by two
safety pins under his short Mexican
jacket edged with It's sequins of brass,
for once. through holding the pistol
too close to his body, she had set fire
to his clothing.
1t would, of course. be accepted as
an accident. But she would have to
pave the way for that consummation.
And that campaign of preparation be-
gan with less intolerant attitude
toward the youth who had so casually
pulled down her house of life about
her ears. She could even sense his
bewilderment at that open softening
toward him. but she was too old an
actress to fail in sustaining a role
once assumed. The task with regard
to her own daughter was both easier
and at the same time more difficult.
1t was harder to remain undisturbed
under the coldly appraising glance of
hn ha6 fr0r
her. But it was not hard to fall for
lornly back into a pretense at the
more intimate note of their earlier
years. For this girl with the barri-
cided eyes was. after all. her own
daughter, flesh of her flesh and bone
robbed her Of the equipment to ex-
press her love. this self-contained
young woman with the timorously
audacious will of youth was the only
thing she had ever loved.
It was no easy thing to break the
between them. But she could afford
to be patient; she was even compelled
to be patient. There were days dur
ing that quiet courtship for lost con-
fidences. when the older woman would
find the younger staring at her with
frown Of perplexaiy on her troubled
young face. Once. too. Katherine
Kinsella found herself changing color
before that cool and level stare of
curiosity. The girl, for some reason.
made her think of a marble cold
figure of Justice. with invisible scales
balanced in her hand.
But her greater difficulties were not
those of the spirit There were other
and more definite problems to be
faced. She felt the need, from the
first, Of foreshadowing the use of
her solid shot. Judgment demanded
some reasonable excuse for that mix
ing up of balls with blanks. For a
| week she brooded over this problem
| without arriving at any situation
which seemed to carry the stamp of
the authentic. But her chance came
with sudden unexpectedness when. in
making a long jump through coun-
| try of rolling plain and jack pine.
They emerged from their dusty day
coach. wandered about the rocky
slopes, and watched two campers
empty brand-new six-shooters at a
! ginger ale bottle which had been tied
| to the branch Of jackpine. Hun
kie Hoppe, having disinterred couple
of his shooting irons from the COM
pany's arsenal. bought box of cart
ridges from the campers and one by
| one they Joined in the contest and
| took pot-shots at the bottle. They
| were still peppering Intellectually at
| their swaying target when a repeated
| blast from the engine whistle warned
them that their train was about to
! move on. So they went scrambling
| back to the day coach.
| z + \
KATHERINE KINSELLA was the
Il last to go. = She pretended to be
| STOPPING down, to- tie a shoefaee. But
while in that position she was actu-
ally picking up from the ground a
precious ball cartridge which one of
the campers had tossed carelessly
aside. She pushed it hurriedly down