The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1921-03-24
HIS GIRL
BY LAURA MONTGOMERY.
"a % % % 90 @ % % % o,


81 cannot see, Leonard, what you
are waiting for. Why do you dawdle
so?"
Lens calm blue eyes placidly re-
turned his mothers piercing scrutiny.
swell, there is no use in being too
haSty; Rose is young yet"
Mrs. Ross moved so briskly that her
darning-egg rolled out of the sock and
dropped. "Youngl Do you know that
she was twenty-nine her last birth
day. You are three years older, and
yet you go about placidly as though
you were both eighteen years old.
Haven't you seen Tom Briggs going
into their yard every single day? Do
you know that he took her flowers yes
terday and candy the day before
He'll cut you out yet"
Len flushed. ''Why, l thought Rose
liked" he stopped and stared at the
dapper figure of Tom Briggs who
passed at that moment. There was a
confident smile on the dark, handsome
face of the young man who had re-
turned to his home town for a few
weeks on business.
Liked, yes-but do you suppose
she's going to pass up chance like
that in case you might, sometime, get
up enough spunk to propose? Tom is
a wealthy man, he has had advantages
that you've never had. He talks
French like a native and his suits
well, you just ought to hear the girls
rave about his clothes"
"No use of man being sissy
commented Len, rising and standing
over his mother. When he was stand
ing Len looked like a blond giant,
with his thick, fair hair, and large,
serene face.
mo use of man being afraid to
speak out" Mrs. Ross smiled down
into her mending as she heard his
half-suppressed ejaculation.
The whole village had been fluttered
since the coming of Tom Briggs. Al
though he owned the handsome brick
house on Main street, he had not both
cred to open it up for his brief stay.
At the hotel he had taken the best
room and his queer city ways were
the uDfailing topic under discussion
whenever he was not present.
After his early supper that night
Len gave his thick hair an extra
brush and changed his coat. Then he
went slowly down the street toward
Roses home.
Mother feller's calling on your
girl" tainted Sam, and lodged back
behind his faithful hedge.
Len began to think seriously. Tom
was a good-looking man.
Rose was working on piece of
crocheting, although the dusk was ap-
preaching swiftly. Tom, picturesque
figure in a white silk suit, was sit
ting well forward in his chair and
talking in low, earnest tones.
Len slowly pushed open the gate
and went up the walk. Rose greeted
him quietly, and nodded toward
another chair.
Don't you get pretty sick of this
small-town stuff, Len?" Toms dark
eyes studied the others face.
NO." said Len, replying to the un-
spoken, but implied taunt; "guess It's
just about my speed. They're all my
home folks and wouldn't feel salts
fed anywhere else"
"But," objected Tom, Ticking the
ashes of his cigarette with white
hand, 'there are no opportunities for
big deals here"
Len followed the flash Of the jewel
on the effeminate finger: Maybe
not. I'm making more every year, and
that satisfies me-"
Tom finally took his leave. He
knew Len of old, and did not try to
outstay him, as he would have done
with almost any other fellow.
'Think over what / said," he had
bent over Roses chair and the words
were mere whisper, but Len heard.
"Rose," Len had waited until the
click of the gate had sounded after
Toms departure, "are you going to
marry Tom?"
Rose failed to reply. "Are your"
A new note had crept into the quiet,
assured voice. Len had become
frightened.
Rose evidently was undecided. The
dapper Tom Briggs, with his bale Of
wealth, the owner Of the elegant brick
house with satin-covered furniture in
the big parlors, had dazzled her.
A stray moonbeam rested on the
girls dark head, turning it into a
misty silver, and Len, rising hastily,
thought fancifully that she would look
like that in 20 years time when they
were growing old. "But," he thought,
clenching his hands, "she shan't be
Toms wife,"
Len bent hastily over the silent girl.
'You don't answer, Rose. I'll put the
question differently: Are you going
to marry me?'
"Of course. Who else?" Roses
ingenious eyes met his own in the
light cast by the moon. The man was
sure that smile Of amusement lin
gered in the usually candid depths,
but he was too content to inquire fur
Their. She was his girl, and that was