The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-08-21

"Tell me, Peter. There must have
been times when you wondered about
me-doubted me-questioned me. Did
you keep faith?'
He waited, but his answer was clear.
1t was not only an answer to her ques-
ton: in his voice there was more-an
understanding of the truth that right
and wrong are not readily divided
with high impossible wall between
them. There is lettering, and that
which counts is the spirit of the game
that leads one to put weight most
often on the right end. All this he
said to her in the one word: "Now
After a moment her hand came
through the dark into his.
II think we are all right, Peter" she
said. IF we can ever have each other,
forever think we could"
do what?
work out something pretty fine"
eve WILL" he said. SIN almost at
the point where / score, Brena. I've
brought high-powered car here. Two
hundred-odd miles into this hell of
desert, And tomorrow. 1 go tomor-
row."
He struck a match and relit the
lantern.
"Tell me, Peter" she said, brushing
the red-gold hair back from her fore
head
II did tell you. said had theory
"a theory about where they went
Hennepin first-and Parmalee. If am
not right, heaven help us! I've not
been afraid yet-nOt in my real self
If Pm right I'll laugh at myself for
toting a gun around and for lot of
fool ideas I've had. But if I'm wrong
now, I'd be afraid. I'm no coward, but
I'd squirm with fear!"
Her eyes were full of a troubled ex-
preston.
"But you don't tell me, Peter"
81 can't"
"Why not?"
Because if / was wrong it would al
ways appear to you that l had been
the inventor of injustice. Let me test
your faith in me, Brena. Give me
three days more"
"Yes, but when you ride off into the
desert-to danger, you said, provided
you were wrong-rm going too"
you can't"
''Yes, l am going with you, Peter"
ut might be too hideous."
II am going"
The strange authority with which
she sometimes spoke was now In her
voice and in her eyes; it was as if she
were speaking, not out of herself
alone, but were one who voiced a de-
cree of those who had willed an mex
orable end.
LET me show you then where we
are going" he said with his lips
pressed together. "Let me show you
map. Let me tell you how We shall
have to steer our way over a trailess
waste by compass as if we were at
sea! It's country of terrible dis
tances and heat and thirst. If the car
breaks down they'd never hear of u.s."
"We'd be out there for years." she
said in the voice of one who in great
happiness feels sleep pulling down
the eyelids, drawing its mists across
the mind "We'd have our hands
like this-together. But very bony,
| suppose. I'd rather-do that, Peter
-tIan-not have-each other"
He picked her up in his arms. He
felt her limp weight pulling at his
shoulders. He heard her whispering,
"Tm not ill, Peter. I'm just tired. And
| don't have to pretend with you, do
I?' He felt her warm breath.
He put her down at full length on
the cot and sitting on the floor beside
her he moved his fingertips across her
white forehead. Her profile of fea-
lures, of body, of drapery, made him
think of the queens and saints carved
in marble on the tops of sarcophagi in
ancient abbeys; lying in this sordid
little room, her face turned toward the
smoky ceiling, nevertheless she had
their calm, their suggestion of belong
ing to great emotions, season of
great deeds and to some grand con-
tinuity Brena had been carved by
great sculptor. and the limp hand that
still rested in sleep upon his bare neck
was warm with the promise of living
expectancies.