The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1922-07-13

I've got the same kind of heart
| beating in me that you make so much
fuss about beating in you, only, being
! a woman, | don't soak it in alcohol
when trouble comes. I'd sooner stick
a knife in me right here before you.
Steve Kineady, than live through
them first two years with you again. l
told you last night, Steve Kineady.
what would happen if you came home
without having the pledge signed in
your hands and your eyes clear, and
before God l mean it. l mean it,"
He held up a hand so lax at the
wrist that it Topped
annie" he said, leaning beyond the
chair arm and with the wateriness
| Overlooking his eyes, "Ill be all right
in minute, Annie girl. Little sick,
that's all. Weather. Get supper, girl.
/ I'm all right. Dadee's all right, girl.
'Giddy-app,' he said that night to me
out of clear sky when he lay fever
ing, 'Giddyapp.' Beat that! 'Giddee-
app"
Withholding herself there against
the wall she yearned toward him,
pressing back with tight lips the sobs
against them.
Steve, amt 1 your wife? Don't
count for nothing? Is all the man in
you layin out there in-in the little
grave? Amt you got nothing for me
that's left? Amt we got each other,
Steve; amt"
It's germ, the doctor said, a germ,
that's what meningitis is, a foreign
germ that got him."
But, Steve"
THAT night in Liddy's bed the little
fellow so used to his own little bed.
took"
For Gods sake, Steve, don't begin
that. | can't stand il. It'll kill me
Drive me out! l tell you that was
way back eighteen months ago, and
you yourself wanted me to go when
Beasley died"
1T was the foreign germ, that's all
know. How'd he get them foreign
germs, I'm asking, if he didn't get it
outside home? What's foreign but
outside home? How'd he get EN-? Not
in his own little bed, by God, because
that's where l tucked him in myself
every night. 1t was that d-n trip to
st. Louis killed. my"
"Steven-the stove!"
He had risen now. steadying the
great bulk of him against the table
and moving toward her between it and
the range.
"Steven."
He veered sharply away from the
stove and toward her.
Get my boy, dye hear? BY God,
you get him! 1t was your foreign
germs. Get him, by God, Or"
steve"
He did not even complete the ges-
ture, but instead fell sobbing, with his
face buried in the back of the rocker
she had vacated; and even as she re-
coiled, with her great bronze head
flung back from him and quivering
with outrage, rs if the very withes of
her were unwrung, in spite of her, she
yearned toward him, her compassion
flowing over her like warm waters.
STEVEN" she cried, reaching out.
Get my boy, by God; you get him"
"Steycn, you're crazy with"
"Shut up he shouted, raising his
head from his arms and regarding her
through inllamed eyes. "By God, shut
up or get out. Shut up! My boy! Get
my boy, dye hear?" He rose and came
crafty toward her, with his head for
ward like a bull lunging.
With cry that rose somewhere
from the primordial depths of her, An
ME Kineady leaped backward from
him, laid hold by a rage that sent the
blood darkly up into her face. overlay-
ing her heavy white skin, cream-likc in
It's thickness, and on up into her hair,
where it poured back from her brow.
"You now! You nowI" Springing
back, she held herself well away from
him. mo, you don't! No-you don't ~
Her hat and a wool coat dangled
from a peg, and, with a challenging
gaze which she did not once remove