The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1923-09-14

before Stewart, whinnied eagerly.
81 want to talk to you," said Stew
art.
Madeline started, turned to him.
and now she saw the earlier Stewart,
the man who reminded her of their
first meeting at Ell Cajon, of that
memorable meeting at Chiricahua.
~ want to ask you something" he
went on. "Tve been wanting to know
something. That's why I've hung on
here. But now Pm going over-over
the border. And / want to know.
Why did you refuse TO listen to me?"
At his last words that hot shame
tenfold more sitting than when it had
before Inundated Madeline, rushed
over her, sending the scarlet in wave
TO her temples. Biting her lips To
hold back speech, she jerked on Maj
esty'S bride. struck him with her
whip, spurred him. Stewards iron arm
held the horse. Then Madeline, in a
! flash of passion, struck at Stewards
face, missed it, struck again, and hit.
With one pull, almost drawing her
from the saddle, he tore the whip from
her hands. 1t was not that action on
his part, or the sudden strong master
fulness Of his look, so much as the
livid mark on his face where the whip
had lashed that quieted, If it did not
| check, Der fury.
"Thar's nothing" he said, with some
thing of his old audacity. That's
nothing to how you've hurt me-"
Madeline battled with herself for
control. This man would not be de-
MED. About him now there was only
the ghost of that finer, gentler man
she had helped to bring into being.
| The piercing dark eyes he bent upon
her burned her, went through her as
if he were looking into her soul. Then
Madeine's quick sight caught fleet.
| ing doubt, usefulness, surprised
and saddened certainty in his eyes,
saw it shade and pass away. Her
woman's intuition, as keen as her
sight, told her Stewart in that moment
had sustained shock Of bitter, final
| truth.
| For the third time he repeated his
question to her. Madeline did not an
swer; she could not speak.
| "YOu don't know l love you, do
you?" he continued. passionately.
THAT ever since you stood before me
in that hole at Chiricahua I've loved
you? You can't see I've been another
man, loving you, working for you, Iiv-
ing for you? You won't believe I've
turned my back on the old wild life,
that I've been decent and honorable
and happy and useful-your kind Of
a cowboy? You couldRst tell, though
l loved you. that l never wanted you
to know it, that l never dared TO
think of you except as my angel, my
holy Virgin? What do you know of
a mans heart and soul? How could
you tell of the love, the salvation Of
man who's lived his life in the 81.
lence and loneliness? Who could teach
you the actual truth-that a wild cow
boy, faithless to mother and sister, eX-
cept in memory, riding a hard, drunk.
en- trail straight to hell, had looked
into the face, the eyes of a beautiful
woman infinitely beyond him, above
him, and had so loved her that he was
saved-that he became faithful again
that he saw her face In every flow
er and her eyes in the blue heavenT
Madeline was mute. She heard hel
heart laundering in her ears.
Stewart leaped at her. His power
full hand closed on her arm. She
trembled His action presaged the
old instructive violence.
"No; but you think l kept Bonita
up in the mountains, that l went se
cretly to meet her, that all the while
l served you l was Oh, / know
what you think! l know now.
never knew till l made you look al
me- Now, say it! Speak!''
White-hot, blinded, utterly in the
fiery grasp of passion, powerless te
stem the rush of word both shame
full and revealing and fatal, Madeline
cried:
"Yesw
He had wrenched that word from
her, but he was not subtle enough, mo-
versed in the mystery Of woman.
motive enough, to divine the deer
significance of her reply.
For him the word had only litera
meaning confirming the dishonor il
which she held him. Dropping hel
arm, he shrank back, a strange actor
for the savage and crude man she
judged him to be.
"But that day at Chiricahua yor
spoke of faith" he burst out. "Yol
said the greatest thing in the worlt
was faith in human nature. You sale
YOU had faith in me! You made me
have faith in myself!"
His reproach, without bitterness o.
scorn, was a lash to her old egoistit
belief in her fairness. She hat
preached a beautiful principle tha
she had failed to live up to.
you think l am vile," he said. "Yol
, think that about Bonita! And all tn,
time I've been l could MAXI
YOU ashamed could tell you"
His passionate utterance ceaset
, with snap of his teeth. His lips Sc
!, in thin, bitter line. The agitation
Of his face preceded a conclusiv,
f wrestling of his shoulders.
r "No, mol" he painted Was it hi
answer to some mighty temptation
, Then, like a bent sapling released. h,
sprang erect But I'll be the man
/ the dog-you think me!'
: He laid hold of her arm with rude
{ powerful clutch. One pull drew he
I sliding half out of the saddle into hi
: arms. She fell with ner breast agaIns
, his. not wholly free of stirrups o
horse, and there she hung. utterl.
powerless. Maddened. writing, sh