The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1923-07-06
Bv Randall Parrish
Copsrisht by A. c. MeClurs s Co.

-InC III you say WIN w Hou
think am, anyhow? Some kid afraid
| of woman? Say, listen, that's no
way for wife to welcome her hus-
band. / got right here, and you bet
I'm going to stay. Got an idea you
can bluff me- / reckon. Well, / amt
that kind, an you might as well learn
it now as lateH This is our wedding
night. Here's where ought to be,
amt it? Say, why don't you say some
thing? What you going to dO?"
81 am going to kill you, Bob Mea-
GER" she said coldly, unless you leave
this ROOM"
kill met Why, you blame little
fool. I could crush the life out o. you
with one hand-see, just like that.
And by Cd, l got the right If you
get too gay. I'm your husband, amt
I? That's what the law says, and I'm
going to be your husband, you can bet
your life on that. Think you'll scare
me, do you?" he burst into an ugly
laugh. "Not this time, you won't" He
turned and closed the door; then
crossed the room toward her, Keeling
drunkenly, yet quite able to retain
his feet. The starlight rendered his
features visible. Her motionless 81
lence caused him to pause.
"Pretty d-n still, amt your" he ex-
claimed, peering at her suspiciously ;
''why don't you talk? When I speak
to woman / want her to say some
thing"
"There is nothing more for me to
say"
"Only that you're going to kill me
if l touch you, hey? All right, then;
here's your chance"
He took two steps toward her, his
hands reaching out eagerly, his face
thrust forward. Then he stopped sud-
denly, with startled eyes staring into
the leveled muzzle of the "A, his lips
giving suppressed utterance to swift
| ejaculation.
'Ill be d-dw
"Put your hands up, Bob Meager!"
the words were icy cold. up, say
Don't fool with me now Turn around
and go out that door. am not play
| ing; this means your life or mine. Coz
He cringed back, cowardly, yet with
drunken cunning. Desperate as she
was, there was hesitation in the girls
action. Dimly he grasped the truth
| that she shrank from the necessity of
shooting; that she would actually pull
the trigger only as a last resort. He
| took the chance.
"Sure." he muttered, "you got the
drop and cave. So long, honey"
He half turned away, Keeling drunk
emily, then suddenly, Unexpectedly,
flung his body directly at her, crush
ing her back against the wall, both
falling together, the weapon undis-
| charged beneath her body. It, sur
prising as the assault was. she had yet
escaped the grip of his hands, and was
on her knees again before he could
| move. The revolver was. her only
weapon, but in the fall she had lost
grip Of the stock. 1t lay there glitter
ing in the starlight, and, desperate,
maddened by the danger, obeying the
| first wild instinct of the instant, she
snatched it up by the barrel and
struck with all her force at the mans
| head. The fellow gave utterance to
no moan, his limbs twitched, and then
| he lay motionless, his face against the
| floor.
Deborah slowly lifted her body,
| shrinking back from the darkly out
lined form, beginning to comprehend
with horror what she had done, She
still held tight to the weapon with
which She had dealt the blow, although
realizing that she no longer required
| its protection. The silence was terri
flying; her nerves tingled painfully,
she found difficulty in breathing. Was
the man dead? Had she actually killed
him with that one hasty blow? She
| could scarcely realize the possibility,
and yet she had struck with all her
force, driven to it by terror uncontrol-
| liable. She shrank now from even
touching him; nurse as she was, hav-
| ing witnessed death in every form of
horror, and ministered to wounds of
every degree, she would not place hand
on this man. whether he lived or died.
He represented to her mind all that
was base and evil; she was glad she
had struck him down.
But what now? This question over
Swallowed all else. The thing she had
been imagining for so long had at last
come to pass. He had come to her.
come claiming her with insult and out
rage, and she had actually dealt the
blow of which she had dreamed. Her
courage had not failed her, and he was
lying there now in the darkness at her
feet, sorely wounded, perhaps dead.
1t was her act she had done it-what
now? She had never faced this stu
alton before, the aftermath. Whether
Meager was dead or alive, she must
get away. Better to face any danger
of the great desert than remain where
she was, with not friend to counsel
or protect her, not white man to
whom she could appeal.
The girl thrust the revolver back
1 -