The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1936-01-04

Sne QaO pSeu away, puC ~ MISuL
have been years.
She went to Gladys Platt's, to
stay until Adolphus came back.
The Platts didn't know he had
been away, they hadn't the faint
est suspicion Of her eScapade.
But Christie knew. She KEEP; 60
ing over and over it, in her mind.
The Platts, who had turkeys,
and raised a few vegetables and
chickens on the side, lived in
ramshackle wooden house on the
flat between Spanish Pass and
Mok Hill.
Frank Plat was a better miner
than rancher. He spent far more
time mucking in the tunnel Q
quarter mile from the house, than
he did taking care Of his poultry
and corn.
Mrs. Plat hoed and weeded,
cooked in the hot kitchen on the
big range, dragged water in from
the pump under the only tree on
the place, and managed with the
hens and chicks as best she could.
She CONFERENCE.-The was a talk
alive, querulouS woman, with a
thin, whining voice-but she pre-
ferred it so. There was no money
in ranching. Some day Frank
would strike pay dirt, and sell out.
Then they'd be rich and Gladys
would have her chance, and so
would the twins. Their lives
would be different from her eld-
est, Ellie's. No marrying at 16
and three babies at 20 for them.
Mrs. Sheriff GrieveS would see.
There'd be q few changes in the
Ladies Aid.
Christie sensed an that. She
knew there was gold under the
ground. The Forty-niners hadn't
taken it all. They'd barely
scratched the surface, and then
gone on leaving deserted mines,
tumble-down shanties, sometimes
whole towns, behind.
The new people who had come
in the last years, people like the
Platts, who had reclaimed old
mining properties and lived in
cabins and shacks through the hot,
sweltering days Of summer when
flies chung like burrs to their
screen doors and butter melted
in the waterSprinkled burlap
coolers, and the clustering cold
days Of winter, when the wind
beloved under their little strips Of
carpet and linoleum-were just
camping" Everyone Of them
planned on a house with plumb
ing and electric lights like the
CooperS'. Everyone Of them had
a million-dollar mine in the back
yard.
She was at home at the Platt's.
She knew every inch Of the house.
The front room" with the horse.
hair chairs, and the folding bed.
and the hard old sofa with its two
rose silk pillows edged in gold lace.
The parlor table where Mr.. Plat
displayed specimens of gold
flecked quartz, and the old
fashioned photograph with a big
horn, fluted like a petunia bios
som.
The big kitchen, with the enor-
nous table made out of an old
square piano, where she ate so
often that the place opposite from
the twins and next to Gladys was
called "ChriStie'S place."
The loft upstairs, with the cur.
tainleSS windows, and the three
double beds, each separated with
its curtain" Of hanging, faded
patchwork quilt. Many the nights
that she had lain, whispering and
giggling with Gladys while Do and
Dot, the twins, strained their ears
to listen in the next bed.
But 1t was different now.
When Mrs. Plat, scarlet and
damp from the heat Of the stove,
passed the big platter of steaming
pork and beans she helped herself
as usual, but could not eat.
When they all sat in the front
room after supper, Frank Plat
meditatively sucking on his corn
cob pipe: Dot and Do, the 13-year-
old twins, on the floor in the
midst Of their inevitable litter of
paste, paper, and scissors, intent
On some mysterious, secret game
Of their own; Mrs. Plat looking
over Thursdays paper, Gladys
playing the new record on the
monograph, Christie wasn't really
there.
Ito Be COntinued)
Copyright, 1895, King Features