The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1940-12-06
By FRANK n. spEARMAN

AA(A k0&G AkAtO AACA kAeAAAS&0s SAAtA~A~~~~
ing.
Don't say. don't try to say, Sc
noritai"
From worse than death. For
months we two lay i'll, our lives
were given up. Terecita died from
brain fever. !, poor l, could not
die. My aunt, Dona Maria, took me
for her own. She and dear Don
Ramon adopted me. For years aft
erward, senior, / would start out OF
a sound sleep screaming and sob
bing. At other times horrible dreams
assailed me.
''It was DR.. Doane and, most of
all, the help of my religion and the
ministrations of blessed Padre Mar
tinez that brought me through those
terrible years. Dear Padre Marti-
neil When everybody else despaired
of my recovery he, almost alone,
supported me and told me ! must
and should get well.
"For that reason-all my illness
when / became the foster daughter
of Guadalupe it was strictly forbid
den for anyone ever to mention the
tragedy or the fact that / was not
their very own child This is a
very long story"
Il can't tell you how deeply !
feel it, senorita."
"You asked me why I was afraid
of being carried away. I have told
you. And / had a reason much more
grave for recounting all this, Senior
Bowie. And a confession to make.
Monica, my Indian nurse, is still liv-
ing. She lives with my brother near
San Diego. Once in a long, long
time Monica comes away up here to
see me.
''Do you remember, Senior Bowie,
that among the portraits at Guada-
lupe there is one of you?"
Il remember"
Monica, the instant she saw your
picture, screamed. When I quieted
her these were the words she spoke !:
That is the man who brought you
back to me at Los Alamos!'"
Her voice broke. She hid her face
in her hands.
He spoke quietly. Don't let that
upset you. 1t might easily be a
mistake. She could hardly remem-
Der after so many years, senorita. %
81 argued with her. You told
me those men were heavily beard
ed said. This man is smooth
faced She only shook her head.
That she said over and over, lis
the man who laid you in my arms
at Los Alamosl'
81 was shaken almost to death
by her story, senior. Shouldn't you
be-? Senior Bowie, were you that
man? Try to recollect."
He stared at the grass by his
side. At length he shook his head
slowly. 'sShe must have been mis-
taken" Plucking at the grass, he
added with slight tremor, II wish
it were true"
But Carmen had not done: she
only pressed her victim more close
". knowing you as well as I now
do, senior, perhaps better than you
think" she continued, II felt il
would be well to talk first to Senior
Pardaloe, because I knew he came
with you to California and might ex-
plain it. / did talk with him. He
confirmed the story absolutely, even
to the beard. Senior Bowie, you are
the man"
Struggling no longer with pent-up
emotion, she burst into tears.
why, why, should this upset you
so senorita?" he pleaded. 1T may
only possibly be true. And If it
were
Her eyes, as she raised them to
his, flashed through the tears. Sand
if it were?" she echoed slowly and
gravely. ''It has been the dream Of
my life sometime, somewhere, to
meet that man. In my heart have
said, If / can ever find that man !
will wipe his feet with my hair. I
will serve him at table. / will be
his handmaiden for life.
Henry" she exclaimed, holding
out her hand for him to help her
up, ''how do you think / have stood
it since Monica told me it was your"
could it indeed have been /?
Could that sobbing little brown-eyed
girl ! carried that day on my Shout
der be this magnificent woman who
stands before me now? Garment"
His voice threw more into the words
than she had ever heard from hui
man lips. 81 love you. ! have
loved you from the first moment I
ever saw you, Carmen. That is the
reason / had to leave Guadalupe.
That is the reason I never could
stand it to come back to Guada-
lupe and yet stay apart from you.
Now you know everything!"
Her composure, as she stood.
astounded him. It was now he who
must work to control his voice and
words.
Henry" she said. His name on
her lips maddened him. He caught
her hands. do you know every
thing?" she asked. mot quite-not
how shamefully silly / once was. !
don't know whether You can ever
forgive me. But since you have told
Al