The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1930-02-28


er, Kinder Way"
been on the ranch with US less than
two months. Strangers never get
much deeper than surfaces In so short
time. There was nothing remark
able, ii seems to me, about her being
able. quite easily, to deceive all of
us. with the single. g'aring exception
Of John.
When John came Eome from Rat
tail, on the fourth OF July, he was
faced with the apparent fact that
Danny, In the course of few hours,
had changed essentially. That was
what had bothered him so; what had
made him jerk his head, and blink
his eyes, and complain Of touch of
sun. John had never recognized,
much less admitted to himself. that
there was the slightest similarity be-
tween the two girls. Consequently. in
spite of change, Danny must be
Danny: she looked like Danny, she
talked like Danny. and we all said
that she was Danny John believed
He at once set the fact of Danny's
change against the fact of Gaby's
murder-and there he stuck fast; too
loyal to go further; too dismayed to
retreat. He did not believe that Dan
ny had killed Gabrielle. He had
known Danny too well to harbor such
a belief He was forced TO believe
that she knew who had done it. Con
sequently, her accusation of Sam could
be nothing but wicked accusation
Only-Danny could not be wicked.
The mystery was torture which
Danny's presence intensified unbear-
ably; so he avoided her; and, unable
to blame her for anything, blamed
himself and hated himself for his sus-
picions and for his failing loyalty.
I'll venture. though II can be only a
venture, that the realization Of his in
terest in Miss Macdonald, and his
inability to be rid of it. was another
cause for Johns befuddlement.
That interest, of course, has all dis.
appeared for the present. Though he
despised himself for it, John might
have been untrue to changed, living
Danny; might, in the end. have Tilted
her meanly. John is male. But to q
Danny who is no longer living, John,
now, must always be true. John is
young. reckon he has fine honest
plans for being faithful to her men,
DRY for the remainder of his life.
Miss Macdonald is also young, and
lovely, and heart whole. She has
promised to come and visit us for q
month next June.
fifty below zero, and our chilblains
burning, and the coyotes piercing the
nights with their lank, long, frozen
screeches, and the cold old owls al
ways grieving forth their mOurnful
"chuck-a-loo, WHO'D, WHO'D. whoo's'
June looks mighty far away.
But, five fingers and thumb, and
she will be here, smelling of sunshine
and tasting like smiles; painting our
deserts with rainbow colors for US as
far as the eyes can see; spreading
sunsets that catch you right w into
IuelI NN"ho thhs
share their youth with you and that
make you believe all over again in
things which you had long ago
stopped believing. Now | don't know
shucks about romance; but | have
notion that June, in our northeast
ern Nevada. stirs up whole patches of
the stuff | am counting on her to
serve it, fresh and sweet, this year.
1t isn't June, though, and 1t isn't
romance that am trusting for the
final chore: it is something more last
ing than either, something sturdier,
something for which | cannot find q
name. But ] know that it is induced
by mixture of long years of right
living, and clean thinking, and sanity,
and courage; so l am expecting 1t to
clear away the shadows from the
Desert Moon and leave 1t, riding high
as 1t used to ride, high and proud. q
brave, shining thing in our valley.
1.-THE ENID