The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1922-10-13

ne stopped abruptly Ut the uOoT. Inc
lady of his dreams was setting the
| table in the dining-room and chatting
gayly with an invisible Kitty in the
kitchen.
The delicate fragrance of the girls
personality went TO CIay's head like
wine as he stepped forward and shook
hands. To see her engaged in this
intimate household task at his own
table quickened his pulse and sent a
glow through him.
"You didn't know you had invited
me to dinner, did you?" she said, little
flags a-flutter in her cheeks.
They had a gay dinner, and after
ward pleasant hour before Clay took
her home.
Neither of them was in a hurry.
They walked through Central park in
the kindly darkness, each acutely SEN
sitiye to the others presence.
Her gayety and piquancy had given
place to a gentle shyness. Clay let
the burden of conversation fall upon
| her. He knew that he had come to his
hour of hours and his soul was
wrapped In gravity.
She too sensed what was coming,
and the sex instinct In her was on
tiptoe in flight. She was throbbing
| with excitement Her whole being
longed to hear what he had to tell her.
| Yet she lodged for a way of escape.
Silences were too significant, too full
| hn taI
did not much matter about what.
why didn't you tell US that it was
Mr.. Bromfield who struck down that
man Collins? Why did you let US
think you did it?" she queried.
"Well, folks in New York don't
know me. What was the use of gettin'
him in bad?"
you know that wasn't the reason.
You did it because" She stopped in
the midst of the sentence. 1t had oc-
| Cured to her that this subject was
more dangerous even than silence.
81 did it because he was the man
| you were goin' to marry" he said.
They moved side by side through
| the shadows. In the faint light he
could make out the fine line of her
exquisite throat. After a moment she
spoke. you're a good friend, Clay.
1t was a big thing to do. l don't know
anybody else except Dad that would
J have done it for me-"
"You don't know anybody else that
! loves you as much as / do"
1t was out at last, quietly and with
out any dramatics. A flash of soft
| eyes darted at him, then yelled the
shining tenderness beneath long lashes.
I've had an attack of common
sense" he went on, and in his voice
| was a strength both audacious and
patient. Il thought at first l couldn't
| hope to win you because of your for
| tune and what it had done for you.
Even when l knew you liked me
felt it wouldn't be fair for me TO ask
you. l couldn't offer you the adj
vantages you'd had. But I've changed
my mind. I've been watching what
money does to yore friends. 1t makes
| them soft. They fiutter around like
butterflies. They're paupers-a good
many of them-because they don't pay
their way. A mans a tramp if he
doesn't saw wood for his breakfast.
l don't want you to get like that, and
if you stay here long enough you sure
WILL It's in my heart that if you'll
come with me we'll live"
In the darkness she made a rustIing
movement toward him. A little sob
welled up in her throat as her hands
lifted to him. "oh, Clay! I've fought
against it. / didn't want to, but
love you. Oh, 1 do love your
He took her lissom young body in
his arms. Her lips lifted to his.
Presently they walked forward slow
ly. Clay had never seen her more love.
" and radiant, though tears still chung
to the outskirts of her joy.
| Were going to live-oh, every
hour!" she cried to the stars, her
lovers hand in hers.
Johnnie felt that Kitty's farewell
dinner had gone very well. 1t was her
first essay as a hostess, and all OF
them had enjoyed themselves. But
so far as he could see, it had not
achieved the results for which they
had been hoping.
! Clay came home late and next morn
ing was full Of plans about leaving
1.-Two more days and Wen hit the
trail for good old Tucson" he said
cheerfully.
"Ybetcha, by jollies." agreed his
bandy-legged shadow.
None the less Johnnie was dis
tressed. He believed that his friend
was concealing an aching heart be
meath all this attention to impending
details. As a Benedict he considered
/ it his duty to help the rest of the
world get married too. A bachelor
was boob. He didn't know what was
best for him. Same way with a girl
I Clay was fond of Miss Beatrice, and
she thought heap of him. You
/ couldn't fool Johnnie. No, Stree
Well. then?
incoming on the sad plight of these
j two friends who were too coy or too
perverSe TO know what was best for
them, Johnnie suddenly slapped him
self a whack on the thigh. A bril-
liant idea had flashed into his crani-
um. 1t proceeded to grow until he
was like to burst with it.
When Lindsay rose from breakfast
he was mysteriously beckoned into
another room. Johnnie outlined
! e h.-.