The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1934-11-30


L MOrraine had always held.
They have to be shown"
Accordingly, he had spared Frances
his wisdom and advice, but he had not
stinted her on experience.
Not that he, too, deliberately pushed
men at her: but he did not criticize
them. nor shut the door in their faces
nor rush Frances off TO Europe to for
get Quite the contrary.
Frances was vitality in an elegant
blond container.
By her glamour and loneliness many
were called; but, assayed by her severe
standards, all had been found wanting.
Until Jonathan Craig.
THAT rustic has me worried" Mr..
Morraine confessed to his wife, who
never worried about anything.
Frances was out in the twilight
somewhere with Jonathan now.
They had left early in the morning
TO climb Underline peak; had prom
ised to return before dark.
II had been Mr.. Morraines idea TO
bring Frances to Estes park.
She had been firing of Morgan Les
ter. a young securities salesman.
Hes as SNUG as turkey dinner"
she had complained.
She had yearned for a man OF
different sort
Come to think Of it." she had
mourned, 1--WE never known an engi-
neer, or a field scientist, or rancher-
or any man really dealing with the
elemental"
That was quite true.
And so Mr.. MOrraine had tactfully
suggested the Rocky mountain vaca-
ton.
But then Jonathan had had to show
up. The barbarian! Good looking.
yes. No denying that. The physique
OF a classic god.
Frances had picked him up at a
lodge dance.
For three weeks now she had seen
Jonathan every day.
Mr.. MOrraine turned from the lodge
window and tried to interest himself
in his afternoon paper.
IT'S getting black dark" he ex-
claimed so loudly that other people In
LuG lODUN iOOhcu dl uilIl.
They've been out after dark be-
fore" his wife whispered.
81 know. but they've been away since
dawn and they promised to get back.
/ don't trust these mountains after
dark"
You're not talking like Frances IA
Their. You're being very conventional"
The man peered out into the night.
I'm tired of being Indulgent. It's
expensive and the devil on the nerves"
Mrs. Morraine sighed and walked to
the dining room where she danced ev-
cry night like a coed.
With a match to grind between his
teeth, Mr.. MOrraine sat down.
BE couldn't entirely understand his
being a fidgety. He even got to i'm
agining accidents.
This Jonathan Craig claimed to be
a hOrticulturist and landscape garden
er, working just now at the adaptation
OF timberline flowers TO rock gordens.
Absurd! man fussing around with
clumps of fOrget-me-nots and Kings
crown. His people lived in George
town, some rundown mining camp in
the mountains. He was said to have a
sister there as peculiar as himself.
By eleven o'clock Mr.. Morraine bun
died into a top coat and went out for
a walk in the village. He met a ranger
he knew and cOnfided in him.
Il wouldn't worry, Mr.. Morraine."
the ranger said. "Whatever's wrong
in these hills, johnny Craig is the right
man to have around"
Very little Modified Mr.. Morraine re-
turned to the lodge. He looked in at
the dining room where dancing was In
progress and found his wife in the arms
OF Morgan Lester! Sane, sound, depend.
able Morgan! The kind of son-in-law
any man would covet. Mr.. Morraine
cut across the floor and clapped.
Surprise Morgan laughed, taking
his hand. Rolled up on the owl bus
from Denver"
It was after midnight.
Mr.. MOrraine and Morgan still had
their heads together before the fire.
place. Morgan was tempOrizing.
in a way" he said thoughtfully, 81
don't blame Fran. Pm of the general
breed she's always Noncompliance
school eastern college, swank home
It's been the same thing with the girls
I've known. Cut out pretty muchIy
with the same biscuit cutter. One -ea-
son I've liked Fran is for her streak
Of madness. Remember what a COM
edy she made of the coming-out party
you staged for herr"
DO I have to remember that!"
But it illustrates my point"
Perhaps" Mr.. MOrraine said. But
after all, you're familiar to each other.
You're understandable"
But none too exciting, I'm afraid.
Really, there are times when I'd like
TO have a kind Of comic opera, Ty-
rOlean romance myself :"
Mr.. Morraine was certain be would