Cleveland County herald., 1921-09-29

| uclu SNdlH dS SIlS DcIll IOl W dlN w catch the foreman's words
 Not guilty"
 A wild shout rose from the leathery throat of the happy By Heck. The Morelands and the Littlefords cheered until they were hoarse. Sheriff Tom Flowers had difficulty in quieting the tumult. Bill Dale shook hands until l his shoulders ached. The Balls and their relatives, bitter with resentment and hatred, stole out, were given their rifles, and went toward the big hills with the eye of the militia hard upon | them.
 Then the MoreIands and the Little | lords and the HeckS, with Dale and his mining man Hayes, came out, and they, too, started for the big hills.
 Dale had hired a horse and side saddle for Ben Littleford's daughter, and the two rode in each others com- pany on the journey home. When they were well into the mountains, Dale drew his horse over close to that of his companion.
 ''As soon as I can build and furnish -" he began, when Elizabeth inter- rupted:
 We're ridin' too fast We're too much ahead O the others. One O them Balls might try to pick you off with his rifle gun"
 Not much danger of that,f Dale re- piled "The Balls have already been i,Ni,, fafb fold them that their very name would be secured off the earth if there was any sniping. Besides, By Heck is acting as advance guard somewhere ahead of us."
 He continued, "As soon as I can near the mine, I want you to marry me, Babe. Will you?"
 Elizabeth Littleford seemed not to have heard.
 .'Will you, Babe?"
 She faced him sadly. He saw in her hazel eyes the same queer light of tragedy that he had seen there day or two before; and now, as then, he wondered what it could mean.
 ''Tell me, Babew
 Her head fell forward. The sunlight found glints of gold in her thick chest nut-brown hair. She was silent for a moment; then her voice came duly:
 "Fd better not marry you, Bill Dale"
 Dale sat up straight and rigid in his saddle and stared hard at her sol emnly beautiful profile. He could hardly believe that he had heard cor rectly He knew she loved him. She had told him that she loved him. Then why wouldn't she marry him? He tried to reason it out, and the attempt made his brain ache; he was unable to reason. He knew only that she was all of the future to him, all of the world to him, and-that she had re- fused to marry him.
 When they were within two miles of home, Dale went suddenly white and caught her almost rudely by a wrist.
 'Is it Jimmy Fayne?" he demanded hotly.
 She gave him a reproachful glance and said nothing. He flung her hand from him angrily.
 Dale did not speak again until they had entered the broad valley that was home to him. Somehow he felt limp now. The great wave of anger had passed.
 "I guess you are too good for me" he said. There was weakness in his voice, and it was the first weakness she had ever known in him.
 "Will you always think of me as the finest and most beautiful woman in the world?" she asked.
 Always"
 "It's the best I can hope for" mur- mured Elizabeth.
 "What do you mean?'
 "It's the best can hope for" Eliza beth repeated as though she were talk ing to herself.
 They rode on in silence.
 
 There was no sleep for Bill Dale that night. The sweetness of his liberty had all been taken away by Babe Lit ItluSdl lO tlill llC | became bitter toward her again. She had been exceedingly unfair to him :: while she really loved him, she was going to marry Jimmy Payne because he had so much money. She was un- grateful to him: it was through him | that she was being educated, being l lifted out of her uncouth and Hitter ate self and set on higher social and intellectual plane. All he had ever heard of the so-called unfathomable mystery of womankind he now be- lieved, and more. All this, of course, was unworthy. But Bill Dale was in- tensely human, and to be human is | to be unworthy.
 It turned cold that night. A little before noon of the next day, By Heck stepped into the Moreland Coal com pany's office.
 Dale looked wearily up from his lit tered desk.
 .I am very much obliged to you for shooting Adam Ball, By" | .srA,- pm ofnff