Evening public ledger. (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, January 22, 1916, Night Extra, Page 5, Image 5

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EVENING LEDGER PHILADELPHIA, SATURDAY, JANJTARY 22, 191G.
j&m 'W jfjW1;ra. iu'Miniia. igiiiiiiigi
" 1
PRELUDE
rrznoi
iN AX Indlnn summer
tfternoon of not very
line ngo tin! tlltl diowsecl
through tho fleeting hours
is though not only tlmo
nut mills, machinery nnd
inllroads were made for
slaves. Hemmed In by
the hi entiling Rllcnccs of
scattered woods, open
fields nml tho .'nr reaches
f misty space. It ssenied to forget that
.If. ...t.ler. stutlvliiff New Kimlnml at
l,S oicnlns of the twentieth century
lErmich the windows of n hurrying train,
' w- " . , ,niilnlinjl lil nri 1 nhil rtnrt
mkht sign iur v.i. ...,.-.. .-v -
tede tho universal triumph of a commer
cial age.
Tor such a one Hctl Hill held locked a
message, and the key to tho lock was
Jr. ... itself: " urn your hack
Jf" it,., nnrallcled rivers nnd railroads
rind plunge Into tho byw-ys that lead
Into the eternal hills, nml you will llnd
;,!, world that was ami ptu is.
; I, sueh a traveler but follow a lane
ihit leads up through willow nnd cldcr
Ifcerrr, sassafras, laurel, wild cherry mid
! wining clematis; a lane aligned with
lender Wood-mnplrs. hickory and tnoiin-iiiln-ash,
and nnked where It Bains the
" nt, arnttercd Juniper and oak, and
he will come out at last on tho Hccncs
Cf a country's chlldhoo...
U right ancles to tho I11..0, n broad
my cutting the length of the hill, and
lasln's Itself In a clip at each end toward
L t.lievs nr.d the now world. Tho
broad way Is shaded by one or two trees
fc.k. Hnme.1 m.inlo or tho stately olm. At
Itlic summit of Its rise stands an old
KfSurch. whoso green shutters blend with
ilk. caressing foliage of primeval trees.
B,.i,io Hi,, orene. White, too. nro tho
cam from bc-
bind the verdure of unbroken lawns nnd
FihruDbcry. w,,lle a11 lmt onc w,108 llmo
fitilncil brick Blows nioou-rcci against.
the blacK-srcrn 01 cmmmK
Kot nil these homes uro nllvc. Here n
tharred beam tells the story or n lire.
.V. , mminil of trailing "Incs tenderly
(hides from vlow tho hame of a ruin, and
.'.. . i- Rtn.i,ld n iHlmtr. In tbn unwer
. the new as -a house whoso shutters
ire closed anil barred; white now only In
rilches, Its scaling walln havo taken
en the dull gray of ..cglccted pine.
For generations these houses have sent
ent men. for generations they havo ttl.cn
.v.- nn-k Their cupboards guard
viht.. fmm tho heven sens, pilcl for
Sh C a .. -lllnH.lH (111 ttl t
ttththe yaiiKce nuuncH, nuiu ..,..,,.,,. .
r'" . , ...! nl.rluUniil Will i
from piowaiuuun .................
the blood of the oppressor, t long lino
of collegiate sheepskins, nnd last, but by
o means least, recipes whoso faded Ink
ind brittle paper sum the essence of ages
el culinary wisdom.
' Borne of theso rlustcrcd homes ilvc tho
ar round at full swing, but tho life of
wine l cut down In tho winter to a
minimum, onlv to spring up nfrcsh In
fltmmer llko the new stalk from a treas
ured bulb. Of such was tho little king
dom of Red Hill.
& hJi.tiiu vim verv still on this Indian
; isriifcr afternoon as though It were In
B ' Wflns rfrom the railroads, mills nnd hlnh-
Mfsof an age or liurry. upon in .
Ifref crest It bore but three centres of
llfeaml a symbol: Maple House, The FIih
nd Elm House, half hidden from tho
toad byi their distinctive trees, but ns
lllve ns the warm eyes 'of a veiled
toman: and the church.
The church was but a symuoi a mere
ihfll. within It presented tho appear
ance' of a lumber room in disuse, a play
rround for rats and n haven for dust.
But without, all was n It had ever been;
for the old church was still beloved. Its
fresh white walls and green shutters and
the aspiring htccple, towering Into tho
blue," denied neglect and robbed abandon
ment of its sting.
In the shadow of Its walls lay an om
'traveyard whoso overgrown soli had
lonj been undisturbed. Along tne single
toad fthlch cut the crest of tho Hill from
north to South were ruins of houses that
wee had sheltered tho scattered congrc-
lauon. ijui me ruins were naru iu mm
for they too were overgrown by juniper,
clematis and a crowding thicket of
Dountaln-ush.
On these evidences of death and en
croachment tho old church seemed to
turn Its back ns If by right of Its fresh
walls and unbroken steeple It wcro still
linked; to life. Through its small-paned
Wdois It seemed to gaze contentedly
icron the road at the three houses,
ldely seDaratetl lh.it linlf faced It in a
Jtralnlshlng perspective. Tho three houses
looked towards the sunrlte; tho church
lowarai its decline.
"The supper call had sounded and the
tuumiB answering crios nan ceaseu.
Along the ilbbon of tho single load
curried an overladen donkey. Three
leostha of legs bobbed at varying angles
"oni her fat sides. Behind her hurried
J nurBe, aghast Tor the hundredth time
the donkey's agility, never demon-
I'rated II,,tt n, 1,. Kiranlnn l.nl.c
rilalrway between Maple HcTuso unci The
iv f a two hart-legged boys working
J"T toeg Into the Impalpable dust of
M roadway and rubbing the grit into
"Mr ankles in a tlnal orsy of dirt before
' evening wash. They called derisively
rj dnkey load of children, bound to
M with the settlni? nn
,?3ithe fanda of Elm House an old
"Mln Bhlrt sleeves sat whittling on to a
ST ."Penally laid at his feet. Ueside
Bttted pillars of the high portico ha
iM-Vi ry smill. The bis. still house
rL'. ta 1 elms that crowded the lawn
J"ed to brood over him as though they
that ho was not only email but
not only email but
Eon i ' ,, ' "'" oi l"e many genern
Wn..,f. V""3 they lai .mothered and
Z'7'.ey one of the many genera-
ttowi .iuns ine 'iaa niot1'
eakl iii i rUBn tne i0"B years
lhVnJ?uE?..Ahe . ?
hamVil tt single me.
Bi iiii arn beh'"rt the house came
ckim. i " lne oatDln and a sudden
r -tax or eairr wliinniaD mw ...klnl.a
E&rh
ilKlls1W,re, from the roadway,' The
llciiirS. 'P01 UP. A wagonette appeared
S5ly tfl t. row of Ued "" t was Jrawn
la- auiev if .,"cona,"oneu Ba'8 wnosa
STll uits Tne waonette was crowded.
lai?:1'' '"I1" answered cries and waving
4is ivf his eyea followed the bays
tte s, ro.aa ana twinkled as they saw
m tn tte "Werve and julow through
fethVa'ur,''enae,'lnS the right of way
At Th "'
Wii !.,r!hnie at the Lansings even
IlKoui ,ll tUona had come t Elm
I)1 oai7 Veranda was vacant; but a
n? '"air was sttn inwi ,i,i t.
BDd yi plla of SIowy sewln. hastily
HrSl . . overturoed work basket dls
Mtdlca . tangled medley of skeins,
k dMAHK Jana scraps. A fugitive thlm-
te.iV.. a WWe urcle and brought
tmmli, ne ol the veranda posts.
WWrt?i?l,tant ktohen came the smell
F.metbias: bu"L.
fife . uoue and '
"oue and The Firs there was
IPtDle uS': Dut down, the road at
fHe House
home of the Waynes, life
-CMCnA..
wm lh .:, . ""' iran evening.
m k.d .f,rrval ot the wagonette and
4 ran,T. ,vas commotion. A stable
'.3 ch?M10 take cbarse ot the bay.
ifciktBd o drn ,ett their supper and
i.!!"1? kla all around by
TJ- "- UUH , tLt. i
R JJ2he7i V ,xou,n CBl'etl to age and
Pfctn 5J.d Welcoaie, playfully affec
f' '"Upturn no- m.n.K .... nm
THE
-ihr
BY GEORGE A.GHAMBERMIN
fly. Rcrlotisly cordial to the stranger with
in tho gales. Then she slipped away to
speak a word to the kitchen nnd to glanco
over the great table In the dining room,
for tonight ICItons, Lansings and Waynes
were to dine nt a single board.
They gathered 20 strong, a sturdy lot.
Itoiii old Captain Wayne to little Cle
matis McAlpIn, promoted for a night
from tho children's table, they bore the
stamp of fighters, veterans and votcrnns
to be. I.lfo had marked tho faces of the
men and time had mellowed the faces of
the women. In the cheeks of the young
color glowed and In their eyes a fire
burned. I.lfo challenged them. Their
spirits were eager to take up tho gage.
On Tied Hill the mountnln.nsh thicket
that gave the place Its name was In Its
full glory, lot carmine flnmo called de-
uuui-H in mo disappearing sun. rne om
white church caught tho fiery light of tho
sun iu tho small panes of Its windows
nnd sent back a message, too, across tho
valleys and over the hills, but thcro wns
no defiance in It only a cry to tho world
that tho old church still stood.
Night fell on the Hill. The stars came
out and with them a glow of light nnd
warmth lit up tho windows of Maple
House, Kim House and The Firs. A
smell of hot biscuit lingered In the still
air. The soft voices of women hushing
children to sleep camo like tho breath of
llfo from tho ciulet houses.
Here a souir. slftlnir snfll thrmiffl. It,
rustle of many trees, tnero the crying,
nuicKiy uusneci, or a rrlghtened, wakened
baby, and far up the road the trailing
whlntle of a boy, signaling good-night,
passed Into tho silence. Iintly tho moon
burst over the ridge of Kast Mountain,
nnd In the path of Its soft light the old
church stole back Into the picture.
CHAPTER I
Exiled
AUTUMN passed nnd
. winter, then on a
day In early spring Alan
Wayne wns summoned to
lied Hill. Snow still
hung In the crevices of
Kast Mountain. On tho
Hill the ashes, after the
total eclipse of winter,
were meekly donning pale
green. The elms of Kim
House too wcro but faintly outlined In
verdure and stood llko empty sherry '
glns.ies waiting for warm wine. Further
rlnwn Itm rnml ttiA mnnl.i atrMrliAft ,,,.
bare, black limbs whoso budding tufts
of leaves served only to emphasize tho
nakedness of the trees. Only the llrs. in a I
phalanx, scoffed nt the general spring
cleaning nnd looked old nnd sullen In
consequence.
Tho colts, driven by Alan Wayne,
Hashed over the brim of Hed Hill on to
tho level top. Coachman Joe's paw wns
hanging In nwe nnd so had hung since
Mr. Alan had taken the reins. For tho
first time In their flvo years of equal llfo
the colts hail felt the cut of a whip, not
in nngor but as n reproof for breaking.
Coachman Joe had braced himself for
the bolt, his hands Itching to snatch the
reins. Hut there had been no bolting,
only a sudden settling down to business.
For the first time In their lives the
colts were being pushed, stendlly, evenly,
almost but never quite to tho breaking
point. Twlco In tho long' drive Joe
gnthered up his Jaw and turned his head,
preparing spoken tribute to a master
hand. Hut there was no speaking to Mr.
Alan's fncc. At that momont Joe wns a
part of the seat to Mr. Alan and, being a
coachman of long standing In the family,
ho knew It.
"Couldn't of got here quicker If he'd
let 'em bolt," said he, In subsequent de
scription to the stable-hand and tho cook.
Ho snatched up a pall of water nnd
poured It steadily on tho ground. "Jest
like that. He knew what was In the colts
the minute he laid hands on 'em nnd
when ho pulls 'em up at the barn door
there wasn't a drop left In their buckets,
wob there, Arthur?"
"Nary a drop," said Arthur, stable
hand.
"And his face." continued the coach
man. "Most times Mr. Alan has n.0 eyes
to speak of, but today and that time Miss
Nanco stuck hltn' with tho hatpin
'member, cook? his eyes sprend like a
fire and eat up his face. This Is a black
day for the Mill. Somethln' going to
happen. You mark me."
In truth Mr. Alan Wayne had been
summoned In no equivocal terms and.
for all his haste. It was with nervous
step, he approached the house.
There was no den, no sanctuary beyond
a bedroom for any one at Maple Mouse.
No one brought work to lied Mill save
such as fitted Into swinging hammocks
and leafy bowers. Library opened Into
living room and hall, hall Into drawing
room and drawing room Into the cool
shadows and high lights of half-hldden
mahogany and china closets. And here
and there and everywhere doors opened
out on to the Hill.
A place where summer breezes entered
freely nnd played, sure of a way out.
Hence It was that Maple House as a
whole became a tomb on that memorable
soring mornlns when the colts first felt
a master nanu-o iu,u mra " -
tory was to be made and burled i.a It had
. l.na 1
I...,, t,AfnPfl.
Maple House sheltered a mixed brood.
J Y Wayne, seconded by Mrs. J, Y., was
the head of the family. Their daughter,
Nance Sterling, and her babies repre
sented the direct line, but the orphans.
Alan Wayne and Clematis McAlpIn, were
on an equal footing as children of the
hSuse" Alan was the only child, of J. Y.'s
dead brother. Clematis was also of
Wayne blood, but so Intricately removed
that her exact relation to tho rest of he
tribe wa. never figured out twice to the
same conclusion. Old Captain McAlpIn.
retired from the regular army, was an
uncle In a different degree to every gen
eration of Waynes. He was the only man
on Red HUI who dared call for a whisky
and soda when he wanted It
When Alan reached the house Mrs.
j y" was In her garden across the road,
surveying winter's ruin, and Nance with
her children had borne the Captain oft to
fhl farm to see that oft-repeated wonder
and always welcome forerunner of plenty,
thaemanMcACiapin: .hy and Ions-limbed,
lust at "he awkward ae when woman
just '."'. i.w.r. hov or efrl. had 'dls-
?ll'"TU,vi: nobody knew.
She
s-i5Sa r'a-ssR s
mlgn
cryln
fS tain loftV Certainly aha was not la
S: ho"."..' " Y, Wni had seen to that.
the house. J- VJrcT he sat in the
flberanry aloneand waited for Alan. He
library aw' screen-dqor open and
W Itew echoed through the lonely
alara. Stew " d tqod beforo bJnu
b0S ww . S3. Wfthout beln tall
k looked tall. HI houlder were not
lS till you noticed the sllmness of his
mZL H n"ck looked top Jh(. JIB yML
JS? tbe',So t of to aU he
NOVEL
THE YEAR.
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'zmirtwmKMi&SFa&LiirwKi:iKiwi(ustidj; ii&rxxi-iaiSMMXPiT7x&wjiMmmm. 'v iHy4v,utrt4rHt?hMrttiinHfiiioee r.m
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tammmmmmimimiMmmimm 'wmmmmmsmsi&immmmmmmmm
In a word ho had tho perfect proportion
thnt looks frail and Is strong. As ho
stood bofoie his uncle, his eyes grow
dull. They wcro slightly blood-shot In
tho corners nnd with their dulncss tho
clear-cut lines of his face seemed to take
on a perccptlblo blur.
J. Y. began to speak. He spoke for a
long quarter of an hour nnd then summed
up nil he had said In a few words. "I've
been no undo to you, Alan. I've been a
father. I've tried to win you, but you
were not to be won. I'vo tried to hold
you, but It takes moro than a Wayne to
hold a Wayne. You have taken tho bit
with n vengeance. You havo left sucn
a wreckage behind you that wo can trace
your life back to the cradto by your
failures, all tho greator for your many
successes. You're the first Wayne that
ever missed his collegti degree. I never
asked what thoy expelled you for and I
don't want to know. It must have been
bad, bad, for tho old school Is lenient, and
proud of men that stund ns high a3 you
Btood iu your classes and on tho field.
Money I won't talk of money, for you
thought It was your own." '
For the first tlmo Alan spoke. "What
do you mean, sir?"
Willi the words his slight form straight
ened, his eyes blazed, there was a slight
quivering of the thin nostrils nnd his
features camo out clear and strong.
J. Y. dropped his eyes. "I may havo
been wrong, Alan." he said slowly, "but
I'vo been your banker without telling
you. Your father didn't leave much. It
saw you through Junior year."
Alan nlaced his hands on the desk
between them and leaned forward. "How
much have I spent since then In the
last three years?"
J. Y. kept his eyes down. "You know,
moro or less, Alan. We won't talk
about that. I was trying to hold you.
Hut today I give It up. I'vo got one
more thing to tell you, though, and
there are mighty few people that know
It. The Hill's battles havo never entered
the field of gossip. Seven years before
you were born, my father your grand
fatherturned mo out. It was from this
room, tie saiu i una Bianeu me name
0f Wayne on the road to shame and
l.. Y nn.il.l rrn will. I. I?A f-TIVA tTIR
that I could go with It. He gave me
live hundred dollars. I took It and went.
I sank low with the name, but In the
end I brought It back and today It
stands high on both sides of the water.
I'm not a happy man, as you know, for
all that. You see, though I brought the
name back In the end, I never saw
your grandfather again and he never
knew,
"Here are five hundred dollars. It's
the last money you'll ever have from
me, but whatever you do, whatever hap
pens, remember this; Ited Hill does not
belong to a Lansing nor to a Wayne nor
to an Elton. It Is tho eternal mother
of us all. Broken or mended, Lansings
and Waynes have .come back to the Hill
through generations. City of refuge or
harbor of peace. It's all one to the Mill.
Itemember that." I
He laid tho .crisp notes on the desk.
Alan half turned toward tho door but
stepped back again. Ills eyes and, face
were dull once moro. Ho picked up the
bills and slowly counted them. "I shall
return the money, sir," he said and
walked out.
Me went to the stables and ordered
the pony and cart for the afternoon
train. As he carue out, he saw Nance,
the children and the Captain coming;
slowly up Lons 'Lane from the farm.
Mo dodged back Into the barn through
the orchard and across the lawn. Mrs.
J. Y. stood In the garden directing' the
relaying of flower-beds. Alan made a
circuit. As he stepped Into the road,
swift steps came towards him. Me
wheeled and faced Clem coming at full
run. Me turned bis back on bee and
tatted, away. The .swift ateps t,ppped
o suddenly that he looked around. Clem
OF
tymo
Gcrry had deliberately slapped her ncross tho mouth, "Put
wns standing stock-still, ono awkward
lanky Ipr half crooked as though It
wero still running. Her skirts wcro ab
suiclly short. Her little fists, brown nnd
scratched, picssed her sides. Her dark
hnlr hung In n tangled mat over a thin,
pointed face. Her eyes were large anil
shadowy. Two tears had started from
them and wero crawling down soiled
cheeks. She was quivering nil over llko
n woman struck.
Alan swung around nnd strode up to
her. He put ono arm around her thin
form and drew her to him. "Don't cry.
Clem," ho said, "don't cry. I didn't mean
to hurt you."
For one moment sho clung to him nnd
hurled her face against his coat. Then
Bhe looked up anil smiled through wet
eyes. "Alan, I'm so glad you've comol"
Alnn caught her hand nnd together they
walked down tho road to tho old church.
Tho great door was locked. Alan loosened
tho fastening- of a shutter, sprang In
through the window and drew Clem nfter
him. They climbed to the belfry. From
the belfry ono saw the whole world, with
Ited HUI as Its centre. Alan wns disap
pointed. The Mill wns still half naked
almost bleak. Maple House nnd Kim
House shone brazenly whlto through bud
ding tiees. They looked as If they had
crawled closer to the road during tho win
ter. Tho Firs, with Its black border of
last year's foliage, looked funereal. Alan
turned from the scene, but Clem's little
hand drew him back.
Clematis McAlpIn had happened between
generations. Alan, Nance, Gerry Lansing
and their friends had been too old for
her and Nance's children were too young.
There wero KIton children of about her
age, but for years they had been abroad.
Consequently Clem had grown to 15 In a
sort of loneliness not uncommon with
single children who can Just remember
tho good times the half generation before
them used to have by reason of their num- I
oers. -mis loncunoss nan given ner in
certain ways a precocious development,
while It eft her subdued and shy oven
when among her familiars. Hut she was
shy without feur, and her shynciss Itself
had a flower-like sweetness that made a
bold appeal,
"Isn't it wonderful, Alan?" she said.
"Yesterday it was cold and it rained and
the Hill was black, black, like The Firs.
Today all the trees are fuzzy with green
and It's warm. Yesterday was so lonely
and today you are here."
Alan looked down at the child with
glowing eyes.
"And. do you know, this summer Gerry
Lansing and Mrs. Gerry are coming. I've
never seen her since that day they were
married, Lo you think Ifs ail right for
me to call r.er 'Mrs. Gerry, like everybody
does?"
Alan considered the point gravely. "Yes.
I think that's the best thing you could
call her,"
"Perhaps when I'm really grown up I
can call her Allx. I think Alix Is such a
pretty name,, don't you?"
Clem flashed a look at Alan and he
nodded; then, with an Impulsive move
ment she drew close to him In the half
wheedling way of women abojt to ask a
favor. "Alan, they let me ride old Dubbs
when he Isn't plowing. The old donkey
she's so fat now she can hardly carry the
babies. Some day, when you're not In a
great hurry, will you let me ride with
you?"
Alan turned away briskly and started
dowr the ladder, "Some day, perhaps,
Clem," he- muttered. "Not this summer.
Come on." When they had left the
church he drew out his watch and started.
"Kun along- and play, Clem." He left
her and hurried to the barn.
Joe was waiting. "Have we time for
the long road, Joe?" asked Alan, as he
climbed into the cart.
"Oh. yes, air. especially If ycu drl a,
Mr Alan."
"I don't want to drive. Let him go and
Jump lo."
. ...,: '.:".' ."..,.. .: ..:,' .?)',,
one hand on my shoulder, I'll tow
Tho coachmnn gave the pony his head,
climbed In nnd took tho reins. The cart
swung out and down tho lane.
"Alan! Alan!"
Alan recognized Clem's voice and
turned. She was racing across, a corner
of tho pasture. Her short skirts flounced
madly nliovo her ungainly legs. Sho
tried to take tho low stono wall In her
btrlde. Her foot cnught In u vino and
she pitched headlong Into the weeds and
grass at the roadside.
Alan leaped from the cart and picked
her up, quivering, sobbing and breath
less. "Alan," Bho gaBpcd, "you'ro not
going away?"
Alan half shook her as he drew her
thin body close to him. "Clem," he enld,
"you mustn't. Do you hear? You
mustn't. Do you think I want to go
away?"
Clem stilled her sobs and looked up at
him with a sudden gravity in her elfish
face. She threw her bare arms around
his neck. "fJood-by, Alan."
He stooped and kissed her.
CHAPTER II
Accidental
r
F ALIX DEEUINQ had
not barked her pretty
thins against the centre
board In Gerry Lansing's
bailing boat on West
Lake, It Is possible that
she would In th- end have
married Alan Wayne In
stead of Uerry Lansing.
When two years before
Alan's dismissal Nance
had brought .Mix, an old school friend,
to lied J 1 111 for a fortnight, everybody
hod thouuht what a snlenillil match Alix
and Alan would make, nut It happened
tnat Alan was very much taken up at tho
time with memory and anticipation of a
certain soubrette, and before he awoke
to Allx's wealth of charms the Incident
of the shins robbed him of opportunity
Gerry, dressed only In a bathing suit,
his boat running free before a brisk
breeze, had swerved to graze The Point,
where half of ited Hill was encamped,
when he caught sight of a figure lying
prone on the outermost flat rock. He
took it to be Nance. "Jump!" he yelled
as the boat neared the rock.
The figure started, scrambled to Its
feet and sprang. It was Allx, still half
asleep, that landed on the slightly canted
floor of the boat. Her shins brought up
with a thwack against the centreboard
and she fell In a heap at Gerry's feet.
Her face went white and strained, for a
second she bit her Up and then, "I must
cry," she gasped and cried.
Gerry was big, strong and placid. Ac
tion came slowly to him, but when It
came It was sure. He threw one knee
over the tiller and gathered Allx Into
his arms. She lay like a hurt child, sob
blng against his shoulder. "Poor little
girl," he said, "I know how it hurts.
Cry now, because In a minute It will be
all over. It will, dear. Shins are like
that." And then, before she could master
her sobs and take In the unconscious
humor of his comfort, the boat struck,
with a crash on Hidden Rock.
The nearest Gerry had ever come to
drowning was when he had fallen asleep
lying- on his back In the middle of West
Lake. Even with a frightened girl
clinging- to him it gave him no shock to
find himself in the water a quarter of a
mile from shore- But with Allx It was
different. She gasped and In Consequence
gulped down a large mouthful of the
lake. Then she broke Into hysterical
laughter and swallowed somo more. Gerry
held her up and deliberately slapped her
across the mouth. Iu a flash anger
sobered her. Her eyes blazed. "You cow
ard," she whispered.
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you to shore," ho said.
Gerry's face wns white and stern. "Put
ono hand on my shoulder nnd kick -with
your feet," he said. "I'll tow you to
Bhoro."
"Put me on Hidden Rock," said Allx.
"I prefer to wait for n boat."
"It will tako an hour for a boat to get
here," answered Gerry. "I'm going to
tow you In. If you say nnother word 1
shall slap you again."
In a dead silence they plowed slowly
to shore and when Gerry found bottom
he stood up, took Allx Into his arms and
strode well up tho bank before ho set her
down.
During the long swim sho had had time
to think, but not to forgive. She stamped
her sodden feet, shook out her skirts nnd
then looked Gerry up nnd clown. Gerry
with his crisp light hair; blue eyes, wide
apart and well open, and six feet of well
proportioned bulk was good to look at,
but Allx's angry eyes did not admit It.
They measured him scornfully, but It
wns not the look that hurt him so much
as the way she turned from him with a
little shrug of dismissal and started along
the short) for camp.
Gerry reached out and caught hold of
her arm. She swung nround, her face
quite white. "I sec," she said In a low
voice. "You want It now."
Gerry held her with his eyes. "Yes,"
he nnswered. "I want it now."
"Why did you yell at ine to Jump Into
your horrible boat?"
"I took you for Nance." '
"You took me for Nance," repeated
Allx with a mimicry and In a tone that
left no doubt as to tho fact that she was
In n nasty temper.
"And why," she went on, her eyes
blazing and her slight figure trembling,
"did you Btrlke me slap me across the
face,"
"Recause I love you," replied Gerry
steadily.
"Oh!" gasped Allx. Her gray-slate eyes
went wide open In unfeigned amazement
and suddenly the tenseness that Is the
essenco of attack went out of her body.
Instead of a self-possessed nnd very
angry young woman she became her
natural self a girl fluttering befqre her
nrsi reauy mrming iiiuaumi.
There was something so childlike In her
sudden transition that Gerry was moved
out of himself, For once he was not slow.
He caught hold of her and drew her to
wards him.
But Allx was not to be plucked like a
ripe plum. She freed herself gently but
firmly and stood facing him. Then she
smiled and with the smile she gained the
upper hand. Oerry suddenly became
awkward and painfully conscious of his
bare arms and leg's. He felt exceptionally
naked.
"When did It begin?" murmured Allx.
"What?" said Gerry.
"It." said Allx. "When-how long have
you loved me?"
Gerry's face turned a deep red, but he
raised his eyes steadily -to hers. "Il be
gan," he said simply, "when I took you
In my arms and you laid your face
against my shoulder and cried lke like
a little kid."
"Oh!" said Allx again and blushed in
her turn. Bhe had lost the upper hand
and knew It Gerry's arms went around
her and this time sho raised her face and
let him klid tier,
"Now." she said as they started for the
camp, "I suppose X must call you Gerry."
"Yes," said Gerry solemnly, "And I
shall call you Little Miss Oht"
So casual an engagement might easily
have come to a. casual end. but Gerry
Lansing was quietly tenacious. Once
moved he stayed moved. No woman had
ever stirred him before, he did not
imagine that any 'Other woman would
ever stir him again.
To All, once the shock of finding her
self engaged was passed, came fyU
realization and a certain a-nount of level
headed calculcUoo. She kt-ew htrselt to
bo high-strung, nervous nnd Impulsive a
combination that led people to consider
her flighty. On tho day of the wreck
Gerry had shown himself to be a man
full grown. Ho had mastered her; she
thought he could hold her.
Then came calculation, Allx was out
of the West. All that money could do
for her In the way of cducntlon and
culture had been clone, but no one knew
hotter than she that her culture was a
mere venesr In comparison with the In
grained flower of tho Lansings' family
oak. Here wbb a man sho could love nnd
with him ho brought her tho old home
stead on Red Hill and an older brown
stono front In N'ew York whose position
wns na awkward as It was socially un
nssatlnhlc. Allx rellccted that If there
wns n fool to the bargain It was not she.
All Red Hilt and a few Deerlhgs
gathered for the wedding and many were
tho remnrks passed on Gerry's handsome
bulk nnd Allx's scintillating benuty, but
tho only saying that went down In history
camo from Alan Wayne when Nnncc, Just
n little troubled over tho combination of
Gerry nnd Allx, asked him what he
thought of It.
Alan's oyes narrowed nnd his thin lips
curved Into u smile as he gave his ver
dict: "Andromeda, consenting, chained
to the rock."
CHAPTER III
Warning
TO THE surprise of his
friends Alnn Wayne
gave up debauch and
found himself employ
ment by tho time the
spring that saw his dis
missal from Maple House
had ripened Into summer.
Ho wns full of prepara
tion fur his departure for
Africa when a summons
from old Captain Wayne reached him.
With equal horror of putting up at
hotels or relatives' houses, tho Captain
upon his arrival in town had rone
' straight to his club nnd forthwith be
come tho sensation of tho club's windows.
Old members felt young when they
cnught sight of him as though thoy had
como suddenly on a vanished landmark
restored.
"How do you do, sir?"
"Huh!" grunted tho Captain. "Sit
down." He ordered a drink for his guest
and nnother for himself. Ho glared nt
the waiter. Ho glared at a callow youth
who had como up and was looking with
BpcculatlVo eye nt a neighboring chair,
Tho wnltor retired almost precipitously,
Tho youth followed.
"In my time," remarked the Captain,
"a club wns for privacy. Now It's a
haven for bell-boys and a playground for
whlppersnappers."
"They've made mo a member, sir."
"Have, eh!" growled the Captain and
glared at his nephew, Alnn took Inspec
tion coolly, a faint Bmllo on his thin
face. Tho Captain turned away his bulg
ing eyes, crossed and uncrossed his legs
nnd finally spoke. "I wns Just going to
say when you Interrupted," ho began,
"that engineering is n dirty Job. Not.
however," ho continued, nfter a pause,
"dirtier than most. It's a profession, but
not a career."
"Oh, I don't know," said Alan.
"They've got a few In tho Army and
thoy seem to be doing pretty well,"
"Huh, tho Army!" snld the Captain.
Ho subsided, and made n new start
"What's your appointment?"
"It doesn't amount to an appointment
Just n Job ns assistant to Walton, th
engineer the contractors are sending out.
We're going to put up a brldgo some
where in Africa.
"That's It. I know It," said tho Cap
tain. "Going away. Want nny money?"
The question came like solid shot out of
n four-pounder. Alan started, colored and
smiled, nil nt the same time.
"No thanks, sir," ho replied, "I've got
all I need."
The Captain hitched his chair forward,
placed his hands on his knees, leaned
forward and glared out on the avenue.
"The Lansings," ho began, llko a boy
reciting a piece, "are devils for drink,
tho Waynes for women. Don't vnn nvti
let em worry you nbout drink. Now.
nclays, tho doctors call us non-alcoholic.
In my time it was Just plain strong heads
for wine. I say, don't worry about drink.
There's a safety valvo in every Wayne's
gullet."
"Hut women. Alan!" The captain
slued around his bulging eyes. "You look
out for them. As your great grandfather
used to say: 'To women, only perishable
goods sweets, flowers and kisses.' And
you tako It from me, kisses aren't al
ways the cheapest. They say God made
everythlng-down to tho llttlo apples and
Jersey lightning. But when he mado
women the devil helped." The captain's
nervousness dropped from him as hg de
liberately drew out his watch and fob.
"Good thing he did, too," he. added, as
a pleasing afterthought. He leaned back;
In his chair. A complacent look cant
over his face,
Alan got up to say good-by. The cap
tain rose, too, and clasped the hand Alan
held out. "One more thing," he' said.
"Don't forget there's always a Wayne Jo
back a Wayne for good or bad.'
Back In his rooms Alan found letters
awaiting him. He read them arid tore
them up all but one. It was front "Clem.
"Dear Alan," she wrote, "Na,pce' says
you are going very fnr away, J am
sorry. It has been raining here, yery
much. In the hollows all the bridges' are
under water. I have invented a new
game. It Is called 'steamboat.' I play
It on old Dubbs. We go down Into the
valley and I make him go through the
water around the bridges. Me puffs Just
Ilk a steamboat and when he gets out
he smokes all over. He Is too fat; I hope
you will come back very soon, 'CUro.'
Gerry and Allx were spending tba
summer at The Firs where Mrs. Lansing,
Gerry's widowed mother, was still nfini
nally the hostess. They had been married
two years, but people still spoke of AJix
as Gerry's bride, and In so doing stamped
her with her own seal. To strangers they
carried the air of a couple about to be
married at the rational close of a, long
engagement. No children or thought of
children had come to turn the channel
of life for Allx. On Gerry, marriage sat
as an added habit.
Where duller minds would have dubbed
Gerry the Ox. Alan had named him tho
Itock, and Alan was right, tlorry' had
a dignity beyond mere tiuik7?H' had
all the 'powers of resistance, ttohevbf ar.
tlculatlon. Where a, pin-prick would start
an ox It took an upheaval to move; Gcrry,
An upheaval -was on the way, but Oerry
did not know It. It was yet afar pft
Hed Mill bored -Allx and she showed It.
The first summer after the rnarrlaKe
they had spent abroad. Now Allx's
thoughts and talk turned constantly
toward Europe. She even suggested a
fllng trip for the fall, but Gerry realised
to be dragged so tar from golf jlajila
club. Me stuck doggedly ta'Ri4.iWls$ till
the. leaves began to turn anft-.MSTtpJ,
sealed to move hick, to toia. J ' i
, -
(CONTINUED IN MONDAY'S
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