The spectator., 1922-04-21
CHAPTER xxx
The End of It All,


 The sun Shone very brightly that day, and the snow began to melt on ! the places that were not shaded. When he returned with Elizabeth from the crest of David Moreland's noun | tain, John K. Dale took rocker be- | fore the fire and sat there thinking, thinking, until the midday meal was announced. When the midday meal was over, he resumed his chair and sat there thinking, thinking, until the afternoon was half gone. Then he called Elizabeth to him. Will you go to my son and tell him I wish to see him?" he said. And he | added under his breath: "I think 1t is best that they should know" Elizabeth heard that which he had said to himself as we'll as she heard that which he had said to her Should / know! Know what? She had sud- ] den wild fear that Mrs. Dale had broken her promise never to breathe | word of the truth concerning the Adam Ball affair. Nevertheless, she put on her hat and her gloves and went to Bill Dale's office. Dale sat with his elbows on his desk and with his head in his hands To all appearances. he was unaware of the presence of the girl in the door way.
 She spoke. Bill "
 He sat up straight and faced her. | He seemed surprised.
 "Wen, Babe?"
 Your father wants you" In low voice. Hes got something to tell you that-that will make you think almost nothing of mel'
 Young Dale drowned. What is it?"
 I'd rather he'd tell you about it. Bill Dale, don't think I could bear to tell you myself"
 She turned and was about to hasten away, when he called to her: "Wait ,"-and she waited.
 Has it." he asked, anything to do with your marriage to Jimmy Fayne?"
 "No!"
 He arose and put on his broad trimmed hat. "I'll admit" he smiled, that I'm worse than granny woman for poking my nose into other peoples affairs-when are you going to marry Jimmy, Babe?"
 The answer came quickly: Never"
 "Neveri'
 Never" repeated Elizabeth, very quietly.
 "NeyerT pursued Dale.
 "Neverw cried Elizabeth, exasper- ated.
 "Goodnessw laughed Dale. You're dramatic or vehement, or both May I walk home with you, Babe?"
 "Yes, sir promptly If you want to-"
 They set out across the snow-cov- cred meadows and neither spoke an other word until they had reached Ben Litteford's log house The girl looked at him Queerly as they en- tered. After he knew
 Old Dale still sat before the fire, and near him sat silent John More land. Old Dale motioned toward an inside deer.
 "Please close 1t, Elizabeth" he re- quested, and she obeyed, Now sit down. I've got something to tell the three of you. And l fancy It will in- terest all of you"
 The two who had just come in took chairs at the freside. After mo- ment, John K. Dale began
 You've often wondered. Bill, about that savage streak--as you choose to call it-that is in you. You inherited it. Much of that which we are, it is claimed, is inherited, and it must be correct: like begets like. 0. ccurse. But there is no savage streak l. you, Bill. You are hot-headed. that's all. Your virtues overbalance that, ty far. have never seen another rnan who had a greater love for honesty and fair play, or . greater hatresl for all that Is hollow and false. or E.osc cour. age 10 stick up for that which seems to be right. than you. Now I'll tell you how you came by those fine Quai. ities and the hot ot-headedness--" , Elizabeth Littleford sat wide-eyed. tense, half breathless. If he meant te tell it. why didn't he tell it! Why did he beat abput the bush like that? } Bill. thls is hard for me. It brings { back terrible thing. You know abost David Moreland. .. When ! awoke } that morning and found him tying lead as Iy cra-gA U S4-Asa. A.aA..>,