Okolona messenger. (Okolona, Miss.) 1900-current, 1922-06-29
Storm Country Polly
by Grace Miller White
cOpydsht by BrOvnG s.
by Grace Miller White

Keep settin'," breathed PoIlyop.
they'll be StOppin' here fast enOughP
OF sudden the door burst open, and
Marcus Mackenzie, covered with
snow, entered. With him were two Of
his neighbors and several sQuatterA
Polly enjoyed a glimpse Of Old
Mares agOniSed face then she grinned
at him.
whats the matter, mister7" she
asked, showing an expanse Of even
white teeth. "What do you mean by
Dustin into my house like this, slr7"
Mackenzie threw a glance from the
girl to the sQuatter In the chair.
"My wife's gonet' he cried in des-
peratlon. IL
"SoR Now Is sheF' broke In Polly,
smiling wider. "YOu don't sayl Well,
golly mel That's too bad. Some other
Teller run of with 'er-mebber
And when she saw him trying to
master his emotion, forcing back the
heavy groans that interfered with his
efforts to answer, she laughed. Never
before had she been reckless in his
presence. She knew this was one time
Marcus Mackenzie did not want to
fight. He needed the help Of the squat
tiers to search the Storm country for
his wife-hls bride, the very apple OF
his eye.
He did not look at all like the fash
ing-eyed enemy Of her people. All at
once he had changed from cynical,
handsome man Of the world to a plead
ing, pale-faced husband.
Just then the wind shook the shanty
violentlyI and over his big frame
passed shudder after shudder.
"Ehe's been gone, oh God, / don't
know how long" he groaned aloud, the
haggard expression deepening In the
lines about his mouth as he spoke. "Fu
give-1'll give more money than any
Of you ever saw" He flung around on
Bishop and thrust out an impOrtunats
hand.
Larry had been watching him COW
ertly, In moody silence. When Marcus
addressed him directly, he threw back
his head and let out loud malevOlent
sounds more like the bowls Of hyenas
than the laugh Of human being; and
Polly Hopkins Joined In again, too,
dreadful sounds that made her thin,
lovely face look old.
"ThIs is queer place to come for
your woman" she taunted Mackenzie.
ITO a sQuatter'B shack, huh7 I didn't
know before that rich women came to
the Silent City, least Of all, yOurn."
| Mackenzie took step toward her.
"Oh, was sure she wasn't here" he
thrust In eagerly. "But / want help
the aid of every one of you. Money"
he cried again, convulsively. Money,
do you hear2 Money, said"
Polly was witnessing just the picture
that she had been holding In her minds
eye for many days.
Money can't buy everything, mis-
ter" she jeered at him. "Mebbe your
woman's In the snow. Tomorrow's
Thanksgivin' day. Mebbe you'll miss
'er II she amt home with you. ScOot
out Of here. Don't be laggin', Old
Marc, or she might freeze to death
somewheres. It's a bad night"
The last statement, true to every
word, brought deep sob from Mac
Kenzie's throat. 1t was Immediately
followed by more Of the bitter laugh
ter.
So changed was Polly Of the Silent
City that the gaping sQuatters who did
not know what was going to happen
wondered at her. They knew her no
longer as Polly, the Iove-lass, or as
Polly Of the Sun.
A low rumble sounded In the girls
throat. She coughed, then flung out
II said, It's bad nightr ScOot
out, mister, an look for your On lily
lIvered woman somewheres else"
Uttering an oath. Mackenzie fled,
followed by his companions, leaving
Larry Bishop staring at the pale squat
ter girl
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