The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-11-17
NEXT DOOR TO ROMANCE
 RYIESIIE BURTON BLADES

his speed increased. At last he broke into a run forced to go on and an through sheer demand for action.
 In his mind chaos reigned, whose demon heart kept throbbing.
 "Gone, and I don't even know her name! How can I ever find her?''
 Ear down the canon he stopped, at tracted by a bit of white. It was her handkerchief. Snatching it up, he found a note inside. The discovery blanched his cheeks. With nervous fingers he opened the folded piece of wrapping paper, on which was hastily penciled:
 Dear Jerry:
 know you will follow me. Such is the force of the immediate in us all Later, when you are separated by few bright days from last nights rare memory, you will be angry at yourself and amused, too for having done so-
 would not have stolen away. dear boy, had it not been best. l cannot say am sorry, for now we both have this untarnished jewel of memory. It was delightful, Jerry, and you are such a boy.
 God bless you. dear, and send you that big romance you demandeo so vehemently of me.
  that case. 1t will lie among the leaves of these protecting ferns till time and nature blot it from the visible history of our canon. Not even they can ever erase the beauty of our love. written so splendid1y here in the canon's heart, so long as hills still stand against the level of my Jerry. and be- lieve me your best-loving and most wise, EDITH.
 l,Fz dimmed. Worn out with the exertion and the storm of feeling, he sat down weakly on a bank. The morning sun poured it's 1angurous gold over him in a warm bath of light. His eyes dropped, and siging heavily he fell asleep.
 The rattle of a blackboard over stump and root in the uneven trail awoke him. The sun was high above the trees. The drowsy peace of mid day cloaked the canon in its placid warmth.
 "Howdy." The sun-browned farmer drew up his horse beside Jerry.
 Good morning." Jerry waited ex- pectantly.
 Beside the man a griu1ning lad chewed at a twig while eyeing this young man in hunting clothes.
 "Get in and ride?''
 Thank you.'' Jerry stepped from the hub over the wheel into the wagon.
 E'I guess your name is Carson?"
 "Yes, sir.'
 ''I got a note for you.''
 The man handed it to him smiling quizzically.
 Again Jerry's hand shook as he read:
 Did you find my handkerchief? Look beside the big log at the third bend below the second falls for it.
 I am riding the farmer lads pony back. He will get my things.
 Again goodbye and Jerry, I kissed you before left. EDITH
 "So you are to take her things out?" Jerry resolved to betray notn- ing of his feelings to the man.
 That's the idea"
 ''Who is she % He could not re- press the question.
 'Don't believe she told her name Did she, Bill?"
 The boy twisted uncomfortab1y and shook his head negatively.
 What are you to do with her things? Will she wait for them?"
 Nope, she said to keep 'er1 tfrr sne wrote. She had to hurry SO Bill let her have his pony to go on and catch a train.''
 "I see." Jerry gulped. then de- fiant1y:
 ''Fine day"
 'Sure it is. Fishin' good ?"
 Never better, to my knowledge"
 Conservation ended abruptly Back toward camp the wagon carried him while his mind ran out toward the train anad darted here and there like a frenzied thing asking: (Which way?"
 While Jerry cooked fish and made coffee for them the farmer and his son packed Edith's things. At last 1t was over With a hearty "Good-byr the rattling blackboard and it's occu- pants turned homeward.
 Jerry watched them out of sight feeling a rebellious anger against the boy who turned to stare backward, his freck1ed face expanded in a grin.
 "Alone!" His voice was taut with the weight Of the word.
 "Alone!" He repeated it, deriving somber satisfaction from it's very des- olation; then too poignantly hurt to remain where memories thronged like demon beauties to destroy his peace. he moved camp eagerly. Fishing was bad Disguised with the entire att mosphere of the silent pines and rip bling stream he resolved to return home