The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1922-08-10

COHle anu come again Tor DldchIidn,
and Coryet had paid him. Corvet grew
rich those connected with him pros
pered but with Corvet lived always
the ghosts of those he had watched
die with the Miwaka-of those who
would have prospered with Stafford ex-
cept for what had been done. Cor
vet had secretly sought and followed
the fate of the kin Of those people
who had been murdered to benefit
him he found some Of their families
destroyed; he found almost all poor
and struggling. And though C0rvet
paid Luke TO keep the crime from dis
closure, yet Corvet swore TO himself
to confess it all and make such resti-
tuition as he could. But each time hat
the day he had appointed with him.
self arrived. he put it off and off and
paid Luke again and again. Spear
man knew of his intention and some
times kept him from it. But Corvet
had made one close friend and when
that friends daughter, for whom Cor
vet cared now most of all in the world,
had been about to marry Spearman,
Corvet defied the cost to himself, and
he gained strength to oppose Spear
man. SO he had written to Stafford's
son TO come; he had prepared for con-
fession and restitution: but, after he
had done this and while he waited,
something had seemed to break in
lis brain; too long preyed upon by
terrible memories, and the ghosts Of
those who had gone, and by the echo
of their voices crying to him from the
water. COrvet had wandered away
he had come back, under the name
Of one of those whom he had wronged,
10 the lake life from which he had
sprung. Only now and then, for a
few hours, he had intervals when he
remembered all; in one of these he
hSd dug up the watch and the ring
and other things which he had taken
frCm Captain Stafford's pockets and
written to himself directions of what
to 10 with them, when his mind again
failed.
Ard for Spearman, strong against
all teht assailed Corvet, there had been
always the terror Of the Indian Drum
the Drum which had beat short for
the Miwaka, the Drum which had
known that n was saved That story
came from some hint which Luke had
spread, Corvet thought; but Spear
man, born near by the Drum, believed
that the Drum had known and that the
Drum had tried to tell; all through
the years Spearman had dreaded the
Drum which had tried to betray him.
So ii was by the Drum that, in the
end, Spearman was broken.
The priests voice had stopped, as
Alan slowly realized; he heard Sher-
rill's voice speaking to him.
1T was a trust that he left you,
Alan; l thought 1t must be that
a trust for those who suffered by the
loss of your fathers ship. l don't
know yet how 1t can be fulfilled; and
we must think of that"
That's how l understand It," Alan
| said. .
Through the tumult in his soul he
became aware Of physical feelings
again, and of Sherril's hand put upon
his shoulder In a cordial, friendly
grasp. Then another hand, small and
firm, touched his. and he felt it's warm
tightening grasp upon his fingers; he
looked up. and his eyes filled and hers,
be saw, were Drumming too.
They walked together, later in the
| day, up the hin to the small, white
house which had been Caleb Stafford's.
The who had come to the door
was willing to show them through the
house; it had only five ooms. One
of those upon the second floor was
so mich larger and pl~easanter thar
the rest that they became quite sure
tina. II was the one In which Alan
had heen born, and where his young
mother soon afterward had died.
The woman who had showed them
about, had zone to another room and
left them alone.
There seems to have been no pic1
ture Of her and nothing of hers left
here that any one can tell me about;
able to think Of her as l can now.
Il mean-no one can say anything
against her nowr'
Alan drew nearer her, trembling.
II can never thank you'll can never
tell you what you did for me. eliev
ing in-her and In me, no matter how
things looked. And then. coming up
here as you did-for me y
"Yes. it was for you, Alan!"
Constance !" He caught her. She
let him hold her.
The woman was returning to them
now and, perhaps, II was as well;
for mo- yet, he knew, could he ask
her all that he wished what had hap
| pened was too recent yet for that. But
to him, Spearman-half mad and fee
ing from the haunts of men-was be-
ginning to be like m who had never
been; and he knew she shared this
feeling. The light in her deep eyes
was telling him already what her an
swer to him would be; and life
stretched forth before him full Of love
| and happiness and hope.