Bellefonte, Pa., July 2, 1909.
[Continued from Inet week. ]
“] guess he ain't gone far,” sneered
Strong. “He come over to this lot to
see her, and he ain't goin’ to give up
till he does it. You wait here. I'l
take a look round.” He went quickly
in the direction of the wagons.
Blverson needed no second invitation
to wait. He was congratulating bhim-
self upon his good fortune when he all
but collided with a flying apparition,
vanishing in the direction of the main
tent. Sophisticated eyes would have
seen only a rather stout acrobat clad
fn pink tights, but Elverson was not
sophisticated, and he teetered after the
flitting angel, even unto the forbidden
portals of the big top.
He was peeping through the curtains
which had fallen behind her and was
getting his first glimpse of the great
sawdust world beyond when one of
the .clowns dashed from the dressing
tent on his way te the ring.
The clown was late. He saw the
limp coattails of the deacon, who was
three-quarters in the tent. Here was
a chance to make a funny entrance
He grabbed the unsuspecting little man
from the rear. The terrified deacon
struck out blindly in all directions, his
black arms and legs moving like a cen-
tiped's, but the clown held him firmly
by the back and thrust him headfore-
most into the tent.
Strong returned almost immediately |
from his unsuccessful search for the
pastor. He looked about the lot for
Elverson
“Hey, there, Elverson!” he called |
lustily. There was no response. i
“Now, where's he got to?" grumbled |
Strong. He disappeared quickly around |
the corner of the dressing tent, re-|
solved to keep a sharp lookout for
Douglas.
Elverson was thrust from the tent
soon after, spitting sawdust and much
discomfited, by the laughing perforin.
ers who followed him. His knees al-
most gave way beneath him when Bar-
ker came out of the ring, snapping his
long black whip.
“Get out of here, you bloke!" roared
Barker, and Elverson “got.”
No one had remembered to tell the
groom that Polly was not to ride to-
night, so Bingo was brought out as
usual when their “turn” approached.
“Take him back, Tom,” Polly called
from the entrance when she learned
Bingo was waiting, “and bring Barba-
rian. “I'm not going on tonight. Eloise
is going to ride in my place.”
This was the second time today that
Bingo had been led away without go-
ing Into the ring. Something In his
big, wondering eyes made Polly follow
him and apologize. He was very
proud, was Bingo, and very consclen-
tious. He felt uneasy when he saw
the other horses going to their work
without him.
“Never mind, Bingo,” she said, pat-
ting his great, arched neck; “we'll
show 'em tomorrow.” He rubbed his
satiny nose against her cheek. “We'll
make them sit up again. Barker says
our act's no good—that I've let down.
But It's not.your fault, Bingo. I've
not been fair to you. I'll give you a
chance tomorrow. You wait. He'll
never say it again, Bingo, never
again!”
.Polly had nothing more to do to-
night except to get into her street
clothes. The wagons would soon be
moving away. For a moment she
glanced at the dark church steeple;
then she turned to go inside the tent.
‘A deep, familiar voice stopped her.
“polly!
She turned qui¢kly. She could not
answer. Douglas came toward her.
He gazed at her in amazement, She
drew her cape about her slightly clad
figure. She seemed older to him, more
unapproachable with her hair heaped
high and sparkling with jewels.
She found strength at last to open
her lips, but still no sound came from
them. She and the pastor locked at
each other strangely, like spirits new-
ly met from far apart worlds. She,
too, thought her companion changed.
He was older; the circles beneath his
eyes were deeper, the look in thelr
depths more grave.
“We were such close neighbors to-
day I—I rather thought you'd call”
he stammered. He was uncertain
what he was saying. It did not matter
—he was there with her.
“When you're in a circus there isn’t
much time for calling.”
“That's why I've come to call on
you.” They might have been shep-
herd and shepherdess on a May day
wooing for the halting way in which
their words came.
“You're all right?”
“You're happy?
“Yes, very,” she sald. Her eyes
were downcast.
He did not believe her. The effort in
her volce, her drawn, white face, belied
her words. How could he get the
truth from her?
“Jim said you might not want to sec
me.”
She started.
“Has Jim been talking to you?”
he went on.
“Yes, but I didn't let him stop me,
for you told me the day you left that
you'd never change—toward me. Have
you, Polly?" He studied her anxiously
“Why, no, of course not,” she sald
evasively.
“And you'll be quite frank when 1
ask you something?’
“Yes, of course.” She was growing
more and more uneasy. She glanced
about for a way of escape.
“Why did you leave me as you did?”
“I told you then.” She tried to cross
toward the dressing tent.
He seized her small wrists and forced
her to look at him.
“And I am not happy without you,
and I never, never can be.” The flood:
gates were open. His eyes were aglow.
He bent toward her eagerly.
“Oh, you mustn't!” she begged.
“You've grown so close,” he cried.
“go close!” She struggled to be free
He did not heed her. “You know, you
must know, what I mean.” He drew
her toward him and forced her into
his arms. “You're more precious to
me than all else on this earth.”
treme pallor on her face. He felt her
growing limp and lifeless in his
A doubt crossed his mind. “If I am
as 1
if you honestly care for all this,” he
glanced about at the tents, “more than
for any life that I 1
“Never mind, Bingo.”
shan't interfere. You'll be going on
your way in an hour. I'll say good-
by and God bless you, but if you do
care for me, Polly,” he was pleading
now, “if you're not happy here, won't
you come back toc me? Won't you.
Polly?”
She dared not meet his eyes nor yet
to send him away. She stood irreso-
lute. The volce of Deacon Strong an-
swered for her.
“S80 you're here, are you?"
“Yes, Deacon Strong, I'm here,” an-
swered the pastor as he turned to
meet the accusing eyes of the deacon.
“As for you, miss,” continued Strong.
with an insolent nod toward Polly, “I
might have known how you'd keer
your part of the bargain.”
“Bargain!” echoed Douglas. “What
bargain?”
“Oh, please, Deacon Strong, please. 1
didn't mean to see him—I didn’t, tru-
ly.” She hardly knew what she was
saying.
“What bargain?’ demanded Douglas.
“She told me that you and her
wasn't ever goin’ to see earh other
ag'in!” roared Strong. “If I'd knowed
she was goin’ to keep on with this
kind of thing you wouldn't have got
off so easy.”
“So that's it!” cried Douglas. It
was all clear to him now. He recalled
everything — her hysterical behavior
her laughter, her tears. “It was you
who drove that child back to this.” He
glanced at Polly. The narrow shoul-
ders were bent forward. The nervous
little fingers were clasping and unclasp-
ing each other. Never before had she
seemed so small and helpless.
“Oh, please, Mr. John, please don't
make him any worse!”
“Why didn't you tell me?’ he de
manded.
“It would have done no good,” she
sobbed. “Oh, why—why won't you
leave me alone?”
“It would have done all the good in
the world. What right had he to send
you back to this?”
“1 had every right,”
stubbornly.
“What?” cried Douglas.
“It was my duty.”
“Your duty? Your narrow minded
bigotry!”
“I ‘don’t allow no man to talk to me
like that, not even my parson.”
“I'm not your parson any longer,"
declared Douglas. He faced Strong
squarely. - He was master of his’ own
affairs at last. Polly clung to him,
begging and beseeching.
“Oh, Mr. John, Mr. John!”
“What do you mean by that?” shout-
ed Strong.
“I mean that I stayed with you and
your narrow minded congregation be
fore because I believed you needed me,
But now this girl needs me more. She
needs me to protect her from just such
injustice as yours.”
“You'd better be protectin’ yourself
That's my advice to you.”
“I ean do that without your advice.”
“Maybe you can find another church
with that circus ridin’ girl a-hangin’
round your neck.”
“He's right,” cried Polly. “You
couldn't.” She clung to the pastor in
terrified entreaty. “You couldn't get
another church. They'd never, never
forgive you. It's no use. You've got tc
let me go! You've got to!”
“Listen, Polly.” He drew her toward
"(Children Cry for
Fletcher's Castoria.
sald Strong
him. “God is greater than any « hurch
or creed. There's work to Le dune
everywhere—his work.”
“You'll soon find out about that"
thundered Strong.
“80 1 will,” answered Douglas, with
his head thrown high. “This child has
opened a new world to me. She has
shown me a broader, deeper humanity
@he and 1 will find the way together.”
“It won't be an easy one, }'ll promise
you that” Strong turned to go.
“I'm not looking for the easy way,”
Douglas called after him; then he turn
ed to draw Polly's arm within his, but
Polly had slipped from his side to fol-
low the deacon.
“0h, please, Deacon Strong, please!”
she pleaded. “You won't go away like
that. He'll be all right if you'll only
wait. I'm not coming back. I'm not—
honestly. I'm going on with the show
tonight, and I'm going this time for-
ever.”
“You are going to stay here with
me!” cried Douglas.
“No, no, Mr. John! I've made up my
mind, and I won't be to blame for your
unha » She faced him firmly
now. “I den't belong to your world.
and I don't want to try any more. I'm
what he called me—1'm a circus riding
girl. I was born in the circus, and I'l
never change. That's my work—riding
—and it's yours to preach. You mus
do your work, and I'll do mine.”
She started toward the ring. Eloise
and Barbarian were already waiting at
the entrance,
“Eloise!” She took one step toward
her, then stopped at the sound of Bar-
ker's voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he called.
“although we are obliged to announce
that our star rider, Miss Polly, will not
appear tonight, we offer you in her
place an able substitute, Mlle. Eloise,
on her black, untamed horse Barba-
rian.”
Eloise put her hands on the horse's
back to mount.
“No, no!” cried Polly.
The other girl turned in astonish-
ment at the agony in her voice.
“Polly!”
“Wait, Eloise! I'm going to ride!”
“You can't, not Barbarian! He don't
know your turn.”
“80 much the better!” She seized the
bridle from the frightened girl's hand.
“Polly!” shouted Douglas. He had
followed her to the entrance.
“1 must! I will!”
[To be Continued.]
I ——————————————————————
ee Advertise in the WATCHMAN.
Important to Mothers.
Esamine carefully every bottle of CASTORIA,
a safe and sure remedy for infants aad children,
Bellefonte Shoe Emporium.
LADIES’
CANVAS
OXFORDS
98 Cents a Pair
Worth from $1.50 to
$3.50 a pair. On sale
this week at
98 cents a Pair.
YEAGER'S SHOE STORE,
successor to Yeager & Davis.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Bush Arcade Building,
ISI
WHITE
Claster’s Clothing Store.
AVAIL YOURSELF OF
The Opportunity
Prevailing in our Readjustment Sale.
Men who intend paying for a Suit $24 to $28, in this sale all you need pay is $16.98
Men who intend paying for a Suit $18 to $20, all it will cost you here is $13,95
Men who intend paying $12 to $16 for a Suit, all you need to pay here is $ 0.95
If you have in mind to pay $8 to $11 for a Suit, you can get it here for $ 5.75
It is important to the public in Bellefonte and neighboring towns to know that this
sale is intenc ed for bettering our store and paving a way to building a business here
that will be of interest and a pride to Centre county. Hence when we say $24 to $28
Suits for $16.98 you get them—DMichals, Stern and Collegian Brands included.
When we say $1.00 Dress Shirts for 73 cents you get them. When we say 50 cent
Underwear for 35 cents you get them. When we say $2.00 Pants for $1.19 you get
them. When we say $3.00 and $3.50 Douglas Shoes for $2.59 and $2.85
They are Here for You to Take Along
And so on through our line you will find many more bargains that will save you
money and substantiate our claims.
Watch for our Great
Clearance :-: Sale
which we begin in July.
Everything in
SUMMER STUFFS
must go at Great Reductions
If you come in our store we
can save you big money.
Watch our advertisement
for this big Clearance Sale of
all Hot Weather Stuffs.
LYON & COMPANY,
47-12 Allegheny St., Bellefonte, Pa.