The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1924-02-28
THE RED LOCK
CHAPTER xiI-contlnued.

astf ID
The sitting-room door opened, an,
the portly form of the housekeepe
appeared on the porch.
There's MIS- Curry the girl cried
selling her fathers arm and invitin,
the preacher with her eyes. Break
fast's ready, and our bouquet not hal
finished
She vas the life OF the little grouI
that assembled a few minutes later IN
the gloomy old dining room, with the
candles pickering over It's bare walls
and waging a losing battle with the
shadows lurking In the corners Only
for her, the scene and setting might
have been somber enough--the stark
walls, stiff old furniture, decorations
n ornamentatlon severely In keep
Ing with the taste of a day long gone
the grim gray figure that presided ut
the head OF the table.
Banker Colin was a man out of
whom life had squeezed most Of the
fine sensibilities and coined them into
gold. The dreams of b~oyhood, the ro-
nance of youth. the glory of manhood
-gone--bargained away for a price.
Sitting there at his gloomy breakfast
table, a disappointed, weary old man.
his soul cried out to rue the bargain /;
to trade back with fate. But none
had learned the lesson better than he
that fate trades net back that there
he was doomed to sit, a hopeless
mourner over the dead ashes of the
might-haye-been.
The forenoon he spent in the small
room, busy with his papers, or in
meeting people who came to pay him
money--or borrow II.
In the afternoon he tried to take a
nap, but so long had his mind been set
10 It's daily grind that II now ran on
In spite Of nina sort OF mental en-
CINE whose clutch could no longer be
released.
Rest a quiet ~nap--they were no
longer his. He had sold them-part
of the price he had paid for-what?-
the privilege to pocket interest money
to collect rents; to write his check.
Cheated again. The devil never loses
In a trade.
Ii would be a hopeless task TO trace
his thoughts as he thrashed about over
the bed and idgeted the hours away.
His business; the farms; his squan-
dered years all passed In review. And
what was lefti TO sit by a musty win
dow and pile up w~ealth-for somebody
else TO spend. He couldn't spend II
himself. He didn't know how. He had
toued so hard TO make II that heAhad
never learned how to spend tan In
hnitely finer thing to know.
Sieep-he was never wider awake
In his life. He ioundered of the bed
AT last, less rested than when he lay
down, and stormed out to the porch
only to stand drumming a restless
tattoo upon a post with his long bony
fingers.
The voices OF Texie and the preach
er were borne to him from the rustic
seat under the giant maple at Whis-
pering spring. He mildly wondered at
1t; reflected that. the genial day had
probably for once lured the young
man from his studies. and sauntered
back to his easy chair In the sitting
room.
AS he sat there, with the pulse and
purr Of the wonderful May day borne
In through the open door, his mind
cropping back over the distant past. a
memory held him In far-fung retro
spection. Minutes long II held him
until II smoothed the lines on his face
and softened his hard old eyes.
He rose from the chair at last !:
paced back and forth across the
floor a time or two; went into the
small west room to his safe. unlocked
~; with a noticeable effort swung the
heavy door open; fumbled inside and
drew out a large envelope Of stout
manila paper; ~unsealed; fumbled
deeper and brought out a small locket
OF gold closed the safe. without lock-
ing It, and went back to his easy chair.
"A long time he sat, with his elbow
propped up on the chair-arm. his chin
in his palm finally with fingers that
trembled, he pressed in the catch of
the locket 1t sprang open. There
were two pictures inside-a woman
and a a But the face OF the wom-
an was not the face over the mantel
IN the sitting room 1t was the face
OF the woman beneath the draped
flag In the cabin under the crimson
rambler-what II had been In her girl
hood. And the face OF the man In the
locket was not the outstanding soldier
above the sword and spurs. In the uni
form Of a colonel of Mounted Rangers
II was the face OF simon Coiin-wnat |
II had been In the days Of his young
manhood.
The old "a gazed at the beautiful. |
highborn face Of the woman In the
locket again and again laid Il to his
old lips, held II close against his
breast-suddenly. with a gasp.
mapped the locket shut.
a mighSy spasm OF pain had grIpped
HE side. He clutched II with his
fought for breath. When II
vas over and he was able to breathe
gain, his lips were blue. and cIammy
|weat stood heavy or HIS craggy brow,
Still eiutchIng Ills side. he opened
he locket, with its secret trying moi
b see the beautiful face. lest II turn
I'm from bis purpose took out both