{ title: 'The Freeman's journal and the Oneonta press. (Cooperstown, Otsego County, N.Y.) 1922-1924, March 26, 1924, Page 8, Image 8', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn91066400/1924-03-26/ed-1/seq-8/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn91066400/1924-03-26/ed-1/seq-8.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn91066400/1924-03-26/ed-1/seq-8/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn91066400/1924-03-26/ed-1/seq-8/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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PAGE EIGHT VIOLA e w N r (mm B t M S L McCtJTCtM^ WHAT' HAS GONH BBFOBB m s s m t ^ ould have died rather r 5 , ' He was sdll' somewhat stupefied. The discloeur* was so unexpected, go utterly at odds with all hts under- itandbig: that he could not wholly fraup its slgniflcance. Somewhat foot- ie»g) y he burst o u t: •^vit aurely you must have demand ed—,-1 mean, did you ne'ver a.sic him to —to marrj' you ?” Her eyebrows went up slightly. “How could I?” she inquired, as if surprised by theMuestion. “I h ad not sunk so low in my owm estimation as that, Kenneth Qwynne. My bed, was made the day I went away wltli liim. Some day you may realize that oven such as I may pos! than ask nun to marry me. I chose my course,with my eyes open. It \vas not for me to demand more than I gave, He was not, a free man when I went to hirp. He made no p r o m ls^ nor did I exact any.\ She spoke In the most matter-of-fact way. He regarded her in sheer won der. “But he sliould have made you his wife,” he excluiiued, his swrse of fair ness rising above the bitter antipatliy he felt toward her, “Tlmt was for him to decide.” said she, calmly. “l respected his feelliigs in the matter, and still do. He had no right to marry nit.wlien we went away together. He xlltl-not take me as a wlfOi Kenneth Gwyiine. He tool; me as a w'onmn, .He had a wife. Up to the day he died he looked Upon her as his wife. I. was ids wonmn. I could never take her place, is’ot even after she had been In her grave for twenty years. Ho never forgot her. I see the scorn in your pyes. lie tines not quite deserve It, Kenneth. After all Is said and done, he was ftiir to me. .Vot one man in a thousand would have done his part so well ns he. “You see I a m laying bare my Inner most soul to you. I t hurts me to say that through ail tliese years he loved and honored and revered his wife—ami tlie memory of her. He was never un- . kind to mo—he never spoke o f her. But I knew, and he knew that I knew. He loved you, his little boy. 1, too, loved you once, Kenneth. When you were a little shaver I adored you. B u t I cade to hate you ns the years went by. It is needless to tell you the reason why. When it came time for him to die he left you half of his fortune. The other half-^and a little over—he gave to me.\ H er voice faltered a little as she added: \For good and faithful seiwlce, I suppose,” During this long speech Kenneth had succeeded in collecting his thoughts. H e had been shocked by her (mnfes- ■Ion, and now he was mentally exam- , ^ a g the possibilities that might arise from the aspect it bared. F irst of all, Viola was-not even his itepilster. He experienced a thrill of joy over that, notwithstanding the ugly truth th a t gave her the new sttind- ing; to his simple, straightforw ard mind, Viola's mother was nothing more than a wanton; Still, Viola .was not to blame for that. That could never be held against her. “Why“Why haveave youou tohold h y t me all this?” he asked bluntly. \I had no moans, of learning that you were never married to my father. There was nevet a question about- it In my mind, nor~[n anybody else's, so f a r as I know. You hfave put a- very dangerous weapon In inj hand''In case I should choose to bse It against you.'* She was silent for a long time, strug gling with herself. He could alm o st feel the battle that was going on with in her. Somehow it appalled him. She stood before him, loolang down. “I have al last obeyed a Comniaiid Ira-' posed by ftobett Gwynne when h e was ph his deathbed. Almost ' his last ^w o rds to me were i n the nattfre oi- a threat, He told me that if I failed to carry,out his request-^he did not call i t a command—he would haunt me th my dying day. You may laugh a t me If you will, but he has been haunting me, Kenneth Gwynne. If 1 ever cher ished the notion that I could ignore his command and go on living In the se curity of my own secret, 1 must have known from the beginning that it ■would be impossible. Day and night, ever since you canie, some force that was not tny own has been driving at my resistances You will call it com- pUnctioh, or conscience or an hottest . sense of'duty, i do not call it b y :any of those names. Tour father command ed nle to tell you with my own lips-- not in Wfiting or through the mouth of an agent-^he comoianded me to say to you that ydtir ;rnother was the only Wife h e ever had. I have done this to- Aight. 1 have humbled myself-^but it Wes after a long, p r i ^ f i g h t . ” She s a t doW fi,jj>^it seemed to him. that her yeir soul weut otit in the deep, long sigh that caused her bosom to flatten and her shoulders to droop forvv afd. ‘‘lie was eiiht‘r'nn ingrate or a cow ard.’' said he har.slily,' after a .short' silence, \I t is nnt for you to pass judgment >aimy niastor.\ said she, simply. “May I hog you tfi velTiun friiui putting your own jiidgineni-of him into words? Will .you not spare m e that ?” - H e stared at her in astonisliiuent. He saw tliat she was in earnest, des- i)erately in ea-rne.st. Ghokirig hack the wowls tltat had ni.shed to his lips, he got up from hi.s chair and bent his head gnively. “Yes, if it is any .comfort to you. Uachol Carter,” he said, acute pity In his-.eycs. “I cannot resist saying, how ever, ihat you have, not spared your self. It cost you a great deal to pjiy one of the delils lie hjft for you to set tle I shall not forget it.\ .She arose and all the liumility fell away from her. Once more she wji.s the strong, indomitable—even forinlrta- bh’— figure - he hiid come to know so well. H er bosom swelled, her shoul ders straightenetl, and into the deep- s- !;, snmber eyes came the unflinching light- of determination. “Then we tire done with tliat,” she s-.ild ‘^Hiietly. \I Imve asked no favors save tlilsJnst one for myself—but it is a greater one tlmn yon may think. You know ovei-j tiling now, Kenneth. Tou^TiaTe . allml liie TliTcliel TiuTerr Was it divination or was It stubliorn memory? i wonder. So fur as I know, yon are tlie only person left in the wnrlci who knows that I was not his wife, the only one who knqws that I mn still Kacliel Carter. No m atter ■'vhnt this man Br.dey may know, or wimt he may tell, he— But we are wasting time, Viola must be wonder- ng, .Now IIS to this plan of Barry Ln- pelle'.s, I think I onn safely assure you tliat nothing will come of it.” \Tlim. you knew aliout It before I tolil you?” Ite excliitnicd. \.Yti You broitglit me word of Jas per Suggs this morning. Y'ou said he was Slaying at Martin Hawk’s cabin. Y'oii limy liavp forgotten vvhat I said to .ve»ii a t the time. Kow you bring ine word that B arry Lapelle’s plot was hiitelH'il a t M artin Hawk’s. ‘Well, this aftemnnn l vyenl to tfie coofthouse and swore out a wim’nnt charging Martin ’Hawk with sleullng some of my yeiirling cnlves and sheep. That wnrrsim is now in the hands of the sheriff. . It will lie served liefore an- otlier liny Is goite.\ \ThnCs pi-etty -<lmrp work,” he said, hut still a little piiv.zled. “Nnlurally It will upset Barry's p!an.s, hut Suggs is still to he acemimed for. Y’tm inen- lioptHl «i»niethiiig !il)out charging him with tnurder Imek i»t—” “I gties.s that can wait till another dn.T,” snici she, with a smile that he did ui'i qiilio iimlcrstimd. \It would be railier stuifltl of me. don't you tliiiik, lo hit-.<- lilm arrested?” ' “You v:ii>l ‘he nils rot the kind of fl. man i - to- lnk» n aliv ,\ lu- rt-iiiiirked, knlttin? his hrow--. \I iliiiil. 1 -aid -om.ilitfig of tlie klifii. Tio n-.-i,ii- riiie.ii Briiley is known fr,»m i-iic m-t of'flits state to the ull.cr. ii ‘s name to conjure fear vith. i ;,, iv, In ;ii;n uprising iti the past Im . m ' oi ; h. s ( hi >T Bralcy’s name roiu.ccic l ' .th it It a ns he who Icil the tmiid of t ’iiifipinvas-twelve yearn iig>» -Uoo, t ! , , ,i.is-sjurvd sutue fifteen o r eigiiieen women ami cliil- dren in a .eeitlcmi-iit on tVldte river while their iiieu- w. re nfT in Hie fields at w’Ork. Isffi it csPhcr signiftcarit that the renegaile tsimoii Braley should tnni tip in th,s,- p-arts :it u time wlieh Itiock Hawk is— But that is neither here ru>r H ere. My w arrant calls for tlie arres- of Mnvtin Hawk. For nmre thsm two years Hawk has been siispectfl t»f «toii!fng live stock down on the Wea. I>uf no one has ever been willing to ii.a'.c si specific charge against Idm... Hi* is very cunning and he has always cuyereil his tracks.” , “Do yop think la* will resist the sheriff? I iio'an. l.s there likely to be fightiag?” “It till dopond.s on whether Mafttn is caught napping'’ she replied in a most cnsbal mann. r. “By the way, has Isijhc Stai'i :oid ,\ou much about himself? His si.--'cr was one of the women mns«iacre(i by Hm Chippewas down Art White riv e r that time. She was the young'wife of a settler. Isaac will „I)e overjoyed when he finds out that .Jnspor Siiggs and Simon Braley are one and the .siime person.” He was sppcehle.ss for a inoment, compreheiisioji '-omiug slowly lo him. “By all that’s holy 1” he exclaimed, something like awe in his Voice. ,‘T am lieginhing to iinderslniid. .Stain will be one' o f the sheriff's party?” \We will .stop i;t his cahin on the way to Hawk's,” slie relilieil. “If he chooses to join u.s after I Imve told him who I think this ,mui.j Suggs really is, np one will oh.lect.” “Y pu say ‘we.’ -Do you mean to tell ine th a t you are going along with tlie posse? Good .<5- d, woman, there will he shooting I You nnist not think of*—” She cliecited Iilin With an iiiipeiiotis gesture. “I caitfiot send these men to face B perll^ thut 1 am not willing to face m y self,' That would he dastard ly.' I will take hay chances with the rest o f them. You seem to forgot that I spent a gTod jnatiy years of iny life -tu' the WiWemsbSK, This will not he THE FREPAM^>S JOURNAL Wednesday, March 4S, 1924 how to shoot. Not only to^ shoot birds and .beasts, hut men as well. Those wore hard iiny.s. 1 was not like the pien who cut notches in their rifle st-odc-s for every Indian, they slew.'aud - yel there iis .a.igun in my room upstairs that could liave two notches on it if 1 had cfired to put theiu theitp.” / “iVhat time do you start?” he' tli.e fire of , .- l i. I — ..yes. insist on being one of the-*-’’-- “You wjU not be neefled,\ she said suci'inctiy. “I thiiik^ you had better go novv. Thaiik you for coining here loiiightj Kpzineth,” CHAPTER XV Lapelle Shows His TCeth, Kmneih went to h(*d that night rii-uily resolved . to accompany the sheriff when lie set out to arrest Mar tin Hawk, He was astir at coeikerow. The first faint glow of red in the gra.vin.g east found him at breakfast, i\iih Zacharlah .sleepily serving him with hot (‘onucakes, lean sidemeat and coffee. . ■ “Take a peep out of the wihiiow and see if anyone is stiri-ing over at .Mi-.s. OwyrT.s,\ he said, “ 'Pears laic Ah c’u see a lad.v out in de front yard, siih.\ said Zacliariuh, at the window, “ilit’s .Mi.ss Violy. 'Feai'.s I.ok She coinin’ over here, suh, Lezistwise .slie comeout’n de gate kind o' lust-like—gotten a .shawl wrap arouii’— Kenneth waited for no more. He da.slied froin the house and down to the fenee—where stood Viola, pulling at tlie .swirllen, water-snaked gate peg. Slie was bareheaded, her brown hair hanging down her liack in; long, thick braids. It wa.s appsirent at a glance that slie liad dressed hastily and Init parilafiy at that. With one iiand she piiu-l.ed clo.se about her throat the voluminmi.s si-arlet shawl of embroi dered crepe in which the upper part of lier body was wrapped. Late: lie was jo nliserve that her siloes were unlaced and had been drnvMi on oYer lier tiare feet. Her eyes were filled uith alarm. “1 don’t know wliere mother is.” she .said, without otlier greeting. “Site is not in tile lunise. Kenny. I am worried aIino,st sick .” , He stared nt her in dismay. \Oh Idn.-st the luck! She must have— Say, -m-e~y«n -sim*-*!he’«,- - ......... ....... \1 can't find her anywliere,” cried she in <!istre^s. ‘Tve lieen out to the barn and— \Vliy, w h at a ils you, Ken neth?” “Slie got away without me knowing it. But inayhe it’s not too late. I can qttch up with them if I hurry. Hey. Zucliariah!” “Tlien, you know where she Is?” cried the girl, grasping his arm ns he turned to rush away. “For goodness’ satre, tell me! Where has she gone?\ “Why. d«in't you— But of course you ihn’t!” he exolalmeci. “You poor girl 1 You must be nlmo.st beside your self—and liere T go making matters Worse by—\ \Wliere I.*; .she?” she broke In, ail the color going front her face as she shook his arm iiupatigntly, \Onme in the house;-“*he said gently. c«nji<iUngIy.v,”r}| fedi you afl T know. Tliere’^ nothing to-be t^orrfed about. She win he home, safe and sound, al most before you know I t L,wUl e.x- plain wliBe ZAclinrlnb Is 'saddling Brnntly Boy.\ He laid his hand upon her shoulder. \Come along—dear.” She held hack. “If anything hap pens to her and you could have—\ she began, a lit rent In her dark, harassed 'T«hntl no Idea she would start at such an uneattlily hour. 1 had made up my miutl to go with her, whether or not. Didn’t she tell you she had made an aflldavit against Martin Hawk?” “No. The sheriff was pp here last night, just .after supper,.^^ b ut— Oh, Kenny, w h at is U all about?” HJs arni stole about her shoulders. She leaned heavily, wearily agnlpst him us they walked up tlie drenched “Have you any Idea a t all what time she left the house?” he Baked. “I heard her go down the stairs. It was pitch dark, but the clock struck one quite a Tong fTme affefward, -1 did not think anything about It then, because she often gets up in the mid dle of the night and goes down to sit in the kitchen. Kver since fnther died. I must have gone to sleep ag.nln be- ^ ’aiise I did not hear her come back upstairs. I awoke just at daybreak and got up to see If she needed me. She—she had not gone to bed at all, Kenny—and I couldn't find her any where. Then I thought that Martin Hawk and the oOiers had come and taken her away by mistake, thinking it was me in the darkness.” “Sit down, Viola. I'll light the fire. It’s quite chilly and you are shaking “I want to know where she has gone,” she insisted. Then he told her briedj‘ as much as be thought she ought to know. She was vastly relieved. She even smiled. “There’s no use of your trying to catch -up with her. Thank you for ■lighting the fire, Kenny. If you don’t mind, I will sit here a while, and I maj go to sleep in this comfortable chair of yours. Goodness, I must look awful, My hair-—” “ Don’t toneii it! It is beautiful as If l.s. I wish girls would always wear their ii.air in braids like that.” She yawned, stretched Her legs ont l A the fire, and then suddenly realiz ing that her ankles Were biu’e, drew them Imek again to tlie shelter of her petticoat with a quick, Shy glance to see i f he had observed, “ I wish j could cut it off—like a boy’s. It i's miles too long. You might .8 well head Znehnriah off. She has been gone slnee one o’clock. I am 'sure I heard the front door close be fore 1 dropped off to sleep. Don’t fid get, Kenny. They’ve probably got old Martin in the calaboose' by this time. Mother never fnihs when she .sets out to do a thing. That good-for-nothing sleepy'^head, Hattie, never heard a sound last night, a conscience .she must have !'” * He frowned at his big silver \watch. “It’S after fivd. See here, Viola, sup- couie along and catch me here “Shucks! You’re ^ y Sister, aren’t “I suppose it’s all right,” she said 'dubiously, sinking back into the chair ■agayi. “But sohiebow, Kenny, 1 don’t :believe 1 will ever he able to think of you as a brother; not if 1 jive a thou sand years. I’m sorry to hurl your feelings, but-—vieli, I just can’t help being a little bit afraid of you. I sUp- ' pose ■ it’s silly of iiie, iiut I’ni so ; ashamed to have you see me with i ; my hair down like this, and no stock ings on, and only halGclressed. I—I feel hot all over. I didn’t think of it at first, I was so worried, but now “It is veiy sidy of you,” he said,' rath^qr thickly. “You did right in coming over, and I’m, going to make you ■ comfortable now that you are he^e. tie down here' and get so'uie ’ sleep, like a good little girl, and when you w’ake'up~25Charlah will have a nice hot biTakfast for you.\' ■ “I’d rather not lie down,’’ she stam mered. “Let me ju.Sr sit here a while ■^-and don’t bother about’ breakfast for me. Hattie will—\ “But ■ he has to get breakfast any- , ho-w*,” he argued,” \ She looked; at him suspiciously. “Haven’t you had'your breakfast?” “No,” he lied. Then he hurried off to give guilty instruotions to Zacha- An hour later, Kenneth arose from his seat on the front doorstep and stole oyer to the sitting-room window. She was a.sleep in the big rocking- chair, her head twi.sted limply toward her left shoulder, presenting a three- quarters view of her face to him as he gazed long and ardently upon hen He could see tlie deep rise and fall of her bosom. The shawl, unclasped at the throat, had fallen away, reveal ing the white flannel nightgown over which she had hastily di-nwn a petti coat before sallying forth. He went to the kltclien door and found Zacharlah sitting grumpily on the step. “She’s still sound asleep,” he an nounced, “So’s dat lazy Hattie meiued Zachprlnh, wltL .. he;rd. “.■Un’ no smoke cornin’ lier ehimbley, lemme tell yo'.\ “Fill that washtiaii and get me a clean towel,” ordered his master. He looked at his watch. “I’m going to awaken her—In half an hour.” It was nearly seven o’clock when he stamped noisily Into Ute sluing room -with towel and basin. He !md thrice repeated his visit to the win dow, and with ouch succeeding visit hnd (tetnalned a little longer tlmn be fore, notwithstanding the no uncer tain sense of guilt that accused him of spying upon the lovely sleeper. She awoke with a start, looked my ?flrst experience with I'enegatle.*.- ‘’hi’l UP bti the sofa rections for Lapelle’s rascals, and flUitla-WS. Wllcii .1 first came to get some sleep. You iibok relievedTP find th'at the disci irhow tited. Til put a quilt over ypu' and— or apparently had ventured i Hiiir-Staneu up; rrom me cnair, tiiK e a rly uiaEnfng mission. 'eVtoaLdfitf he flushing In embarra-ssment. , .. i - :*T)h, I ongbt not to stay IVer^, . j t .jgnrtend? Filled with: sharp misgivings; he left' h a t « jier. T h a t's' Why he never any. ^ Suppose somebody were to ; his doorstep and; walked slowly down \to the gate; wdiere he hqlted. It oc- 'eurred to him that Barry. 'after a sietep-' less night, had cqHoe to rnake pea<«s with his teinpestuoua sweetheart. I f such was tile case, his own sense- ' fairness anil dignity would permit i interference op his part unless it w solicited by t h j girl herself. H e \ vm 8;; ready, hoW’cver, to take. Instant action if she made the slightest sign of jSs-' tress oil alarna. While he had no Lm- tention of sgyihg or eavesdroppirtg,; their voices reached him distinctly atid he .could not help heaHng what passed between them. “Have ,’Vou been up to the houE Barry?” were Viola:'s first words as si stopped in front of the man who b a r r ^ ; the way. , M pelie dl^ not change his positiOm.: His chin was lowered and he was looli- liig a t her through narrowed; unsmil ing eyes, “Yes, 1 have.” “Where was the dog?” she Inqulresd cuttingly. ‘•He came,and licked my hand. He’s the only friend I’ve , got up here, I reckon.” “I will have him shot today. Wliat do you want?” ‘T e.amei-fo see your mother. Wherm is she?” “She’s-a-way.” “Over n ight?” “It will dp you no good to see hea’, Barry. Yoai might as well realize i t first a s last,’.' Lapelie glanced past her a t the raam beyond and towered his voice. Kep- netlj could not hear what he said, \Weil I'ni going to see her, and she will be down on hei' knees before I'm hack anything to do with his dog of a father. And he probably knows you were bora ont of wedlock—that you’re CHAPTf R XVI The Rlow. He nevdr finished the sentehee. A whirlwind Was -upon hipp, Before he ;could raise a hand to defend hlmseif, Kenneth Qwynhe’s brawny fist smote him squarely between the eyes. He went down as though struck by a sledge^hainmer, crashing to the ground; fult Six fc«t from where'he'ftood. Be- ind that clumsy blow was the weight f a th|rteefi-stone body, hurled as from a, mighty catapult. He never knew how long afterward tliroiigli wltli her, let me tell you. Ota, I’m sobeiv Viola! I had my lesson yes terday. I’ra through with whisky foc-- ever. So she -was away all night, eli ? Out to the fiirni, eh? That nigger glt-l of youi-s says she must have gone omt to tlie farm last night, because her be«d wasn’t slept in. And you weren’t ojc- pecting visitors as early as this or yom would linve got |icune a little sooneai yourself, huh?” “Wliat are you talking about?” “Soon as she is out of the house yon scoot over to big bi'otlier Kenny’s, cli*? Afraid to sleep alone, I suppose. Well, iilV Tve got t u f ^ T s you ought to hav« taken a little more time to dress.” •uli! oil—,vou—you low-lived dogt*” ■ gasped, going white to the root* \How dare you sny—” ••'i’liPi's rig h t! Call me all the pret ty names ytni oan think of. And siiWi I didn’t i-ouie up liete to beg anytliing; fniiii you o r y«iur mother. I’m not Im .1 begging hiiiu«ir. I’m tlirougli licking >i.m-i.m.ts, Viola. MTiat time will the <d<t woman he hack?’’ “.Stand away from that gate!” slie mid in ii voice low and hoarse wltB jftim. “Don’t you dure speak to me I fvaln. And if you follow me to the i-usp I’ll—I'|l_ » blanldy about as If bewildered by her-1 „ strange surroundings, and then fixed ■, ) 5® Jeered. Call her aide, quegflonlng eves unon him i l^eniiy? Well, go aliead and eyes upon mm. .,, 111 ,;,,,, There he Is. I’ll kick him Kun here to the pond—and that won'4 OH liiilf ns iilensnui as rocking llnle -ister to sleep in her cradle while inainma is oqi for the 'night.\ the has|a of qpring-water on a chair !in«l draped tlie eoarae towel over the self a .bit Jitter your profound slunt- liers, you will find here some of the finest witter in Rie imlverse and a towel warranted to prodnci* n blush ujion the check of a graven iinnge.” “Has mother come home?” she in quired nn.vlini5ly, us she drew the showl close .about her throat again. “KtFsign of her. H urry along, and ns soon as we’ve had a bite to e.at I’ll ride down to the counhoiise .and see if she's there.” He toft lier, and presently slio came into tlie kitclien. lier skin glowing, wuriiily. her bmlds loosely coiled on Uie crown of her head, her eyes tike vloh>f slurs. Zacharlah marveled nt his master’s appetite. Recollection of an already devoureil meal o f no small proportions causeilhim to doubt his senses. From time to time he sliook his head in won der and finally took to chuckling. The next time Marse Kenneth coiiiplained sdunit having no aiviieilte he would kiiovv w’hat to say to him. “I must run home now,” s-aid Vlohi at tlje Close of tlie meal. \It’s been luv- fiitiy nic-e—and so exciting, Kenny. I 5 'f t l.■■/I h -cr h’ing SMinetbing 1 L ..-1 it q'leer?'leeri Hav- : q Inc h.-eakf.ist ivith a nntn sis \ c ’i.s n.!ro!” “It dees my !j-.irt -good to see yon bliwh so prctiiiy,^' said he warmly. Tlierl his fnee darkened. “And it turns mv hloo.i col,} to thfiik that if yon had supceyp-d in doii g somethin\ you n’lglit not to loive done sis wt-eks ago, j'hu might hmv he having breakfast witli somebfidy else instead of With wish you would not speak of that, Kenneth,” she said severely. “You will make ine hate you; if you bring it up again.” Then .she nilded,,with a plain tive little ■ smile: \The Ri}de says, ‘Love Uiy neighbor as th y s e lf 1 am doing my best to live up to that, but sometimes you make it awfully hard for me.” 1. He went to the dpor With her. She paused for a moment on the step to look searchingly up the road and thrmigh the frees. There was no sign of her mother. The anxious, worried expres.*:ion deejiened in her eyes. ^ “Don’t come any farther wltli me,\ ,8he siiid. “Go down to the courthouse as fast as you can.” lie Watched her till she passed through the gale. As he was on the, point of re-entering the house he saw her onihe to an abrupt stop and stare stritlght ahead, He shot a swift, ap prehensive .glance over his shouldef, Barry Lapelie had just emerged from Rachel’s yard, his gaze fixed on the girl w‘ho .stood mbtloiiless in front her, he slowly closed the gate and leaned ag.'iiil.st it, folding his artUs as he did so, Viola, after a mbment’S indecision and without a glance at Kenneth, lift ed h e r e i n and went forw'ard to the eacount^. Kenneth looked in all di rections for Lapelle’s rascals He was ?arded sutt- alpne unon was that he heard a voice speaking him. The words, jumbled and un intelligible, seenied to coine from a great distance. H e attempted to rise, gave it Up and fell back dizzily, His vision was'slow in clearing. What he . finally saw, through blurred, linceftalri* eyes, was tlie face of Kenneth Gwynne, far above Wfh-—and it was a long time before i t stopped whirling and became fixed in one place. Then he realized, that It was the voice of Gwynne that was speaking to him, and he made put the w'ords. Something warm and wet crept along the sides of his month, over his chin, «3own his neck. '‘ h I s throat was full of a hot nauseous fluid. He raised himself on one elbo-w and spat, , \Get up ! Get up, you filthy w help! ^ ’m not going to hit you again. Get up, 1 say!” He struggled to his knees and then to his feet, sagging limiily against cite fence, to which he clung for support. He felt for his nose, filled with a hor rid, sickening dread that It was no longer on his face. “i ought to -kill you,’’ he beard Qwynne saying. \You black-hearted, lying scoundrel. Get out of iiiy s iglit!” He succeeded In straightening •uid looked about him through of tear.s. Tie triqd to .speifk, but conld only wheeze ami s}mtler. He cleared his throat mueously and spat again. \Where—wliere is she?” he man aged to say at last. “Shut up! Y'ou’ve dealt her tlie foulest—-\ lie broke off abruptly, struck by tlie otlier's expre.sslon: - LapeUO- was staring past liiin in the direction of the liouse and there was the look of a frightened, trapped animal in his g!a.s.sy eyes. \My G—(1!” fall from his lips, and tboii suddenly he sprang forward, placing Kenneth’s body between him and the object of his terror, “Stop her! For God’s/gnke, Gwynne—stop For the first time since Barry went crashing to earth and lay ns one dead, Gwynne mlsed his eyds from the blood-smeateit Wee. Vaguely tie re membered the sw ift rush of Viola’s feet as she ^ped past him, but that was long ago and he had not looked to see whither she fled. She was now coming down the steps of tfie porch, a half-raised rifle In her hnncLs. He was neven to forget her white, set face, nor the menacing look In her eyes ns she advanced to th e killing of B arry Lapelle—for there was no mistaking her purpose. “Drop down!\ he shouted to Ln- pclle. As Barry sank cowering be hind him, lie cried out sharply to the g ir t: ‘‘Viola! Drop that you hear me? Good G—d. lost your sen.ses?” • Site came on slot^y, her head a lit tle to one side the better to see the partially obscured figure of the crouching man. .\It won’t do you any good to hide, Barry,” slie said, in a voice that neither of the men recognized. \Doni: be a fool, Viola!” cried Ken neth. ‘‘Leave him to me. Go back to the liouse. I will attend to him.\ She stopped and lifted her eyes to stare at the speaker in. sheer wonder and astonlslinienL \Why you heard w h n U ie said. You heard what tie Called my mother. •ontd spit tn your face, Barry Lit- peile. Will you let me pass?\ ••Certainly. But I'm going Into the honse with ,y6a, understand th a t r a Ja^it ns soon wait there for your mother ns anywhere else.\ \When my mother hears about tills she will have you horsewhipped witlilo an inch of your life,” cried Hie girl fa- riouslyi ThP.se words, rising o n a wave of an ger, came distinctly to Kenneth’s ears. He left his place at the gnte aiidl Walked swiftly along Inside his fence until he came to the corner of the yariL, wliere the bushes grew thickly. H ere he stopped lo await further develop ments. He lienrd Barry soy, with as harsh laugh: \Gh. .she will, will she?” . neara wnat ne caueu my mi •‘Yes, she will. She knows more stand away from him, Kenneth.” about you tlian you think she fioes^ j .q allow you to shoot him. Let me by I Do you hear me. Bar—” “fl'liat’s fanny,” he Isterrugted, low ering h!s voice to a half-whisper- “That’s just what I came up to see her 11 bout. I want to tell her tliat I know more about lifer than she thinkq I do_ And w hgn. 1 get tiirough telling her what I know slie'll change her miml about letting lis get married, Andyou'lE marry me, too, my girl, without so* much as a -whiinper. Oh, you needn't look around for big brother—0— d, E h p t you’d' b e happy If he wasn’t your brother, wouldn't you? V?ell, he has sneaked; Into the house just as I knew he would if it looked like a squall. He’s a Whitfrllwered coward. How do* you like that?” He was not only astonished but dis tinctly confouaffed by th e swift, Incoia- prehensible siaile that played about her disdainfal lips, “■What the hellfira ar® you laughing at?” he exploded. “Nothing mudi. I was only thinking about last night.” “H—I !” h.e exclaimed, the blood rushing to his face. “Why—why, you —” 'The words failed him. He could only stare a t her as If stunned by the most shbcklni confession. > “Please rehiember that you are speaking to;^'’ He broke in with a .snarling; laughr “By thunder, f i n b®|inniitg to believe you’re no bettor thsn she was. She wasn’t anything but a comliioii— and f m blessed If I ^ n k It’s sensible to m arry into the ftuniiy,. a fter all,” “O h !” she gaaped, closing, her eyes as she shrank away from hliUi Tbfe word he had used stood for. the foulest thing on earth to her. It h»d Uever passed her cleaxii pure lips. For the , moment she wa« petrifiedj speechleas. “It’s about time you , learned: the ., truth about that d-n-d old hypocrite^ Gwynne’s gate, a hundred feet if you don’t know it already,” he Con away. Without taking his eyes from tinued, ralsinghis voice at the urge of eckiess: him- He stood fury thfit GOti ler her shrink! ohsumed iking fig-. urej glaring ntercUessly down Into hfer horror-struck ^ e s . “You don’t :need to take my word for it. Ask Gwynne. He knows. He knows what happened hack there in Kentucky. Hfe knows she ran off with his father twenty years ago, taking him away from the Lapelle drew back, quailing before . ^ __ ________ ^ ___ ____ __ . , t^e look in Eenneth’s eyes. Bie saw woniah he wasjnaariied tq. That's tyfiy luiijcder ihi theui. My G—d, child—do you w ant to have a man’s j i f o-blooa on sour hands?” “He sa® sfi‘e‘''ran 'a w d ^ 'w lth your •father,\ sho cried, a spasm Of-»pain crossing her face. “He said I was born before they were married. I have a right to kill hlnir Do you hear? I have a right to—” “Don’t you know It would be\ mur der? Coldblooded murder? Noj You will have to Trill me first. Do you uu- derstand? I shall not move an inch. I am not going to let you do some-' thing you will regret to the end of your life, Put it down! Drop that gun, I say ! If there is to be any kill ing, I will do it—^notyou!” She closed her eyes. Her tense body relaxed. The two nieri, watch ing her with bated breath attd vastly different einotloiis, could almost vis* ualize {he, struggle that was going on within her... At:.last the long rifle bar rel was lo-wered; as - the muzzle touched the ground she opened her eyes. Slowly they went from Kenneth to the nxan who crouched behind him. :She gazed at the bloody face as i f see ing I t for the first time. The wonaan in her revolted a t the spectacle. After a irioiijent of Inde cision, she turned with a shudil'er and walked, toward th e house, dragging the rifle by the stock. As site was about to mount the steps she pjiiised to send a swift glance over her shoul der and then, obeying the appeal in Kenneth’s eyes, reluctantly, even care fully, leaned the gun against a post and disappeared through the dopr. “Stand lyp!*’ ordered GWynnej turn ing to Lapelle. “1 ought to klU' you myself It’s in my heart to do so. Do you know what you’ve doUe;. to her?\ Barry drew himself up, h is, fast swelling, bloodshot eyes fiiUed with i deadly hatred. His voice Was thlcl and unsteady, “You'd better kill me while you have the chance,” he said. “Because, so help me God, Tm going to kill you for this.” “Go!” thundered the other, his hands tWlticlilng. “If you don't. I’ll strangle the life out of you.” ■sou omn-t ®ye me a chance, fl-*-n ^' . you,\ he snarled, “You Hit me before • I b a d a chance . g * ”t wish to-God I had hit you .sooner, and that T bed killed you.” gi-ated | Kenmelh. ' — | \Yoii will wisli that w ith all your ' soul ,hefo!’e I am through with .Vou,!' j. . sniiried ihirfy. “Gli. I’m not Jiftaid 'of 'i yon,: 1 know the whole beasii.v story | ahoat your father and. that—” \S t o p r ’ cried Keuiiei.h, taking a step I'oiuvai'd, ills atm drawn bach. ‘‘Not anutlier word, LapeilC! You’ve said enough! 1 know \vhere yon got your inil'uruuitioif--*-an(i 1 can tell .you, here and now, llrat the man tied to you. I’m going to give you twentv-foiir, hours to get out of th48..tft>mX9,0o^. ' And: if 1 liear tliat you have repeated a vord of what you said' to her Til see to Ir tliat you are strung up by the neck and yniir miserable carcas,s filled with buljet.s; Oh, you needn’t sputter! It will h e yunr word against mine.|i I guess you know whioh of ns, the. tueu of tliis town wiii believe. And you needxt’t cxiu et to lie supported by yotit frleiid .thsper i|uggs or the gi>ntle Mr. Ijlawk-^Alia, that got under your pelt, didn’t it? If either of them is still glive at thi.s minute, it’.s because he surrendered wiihout a fight and not hecaiise God took care of him. Your beautiful game Is spoiled, La- pelie—and you’ll bg lucky to get off' ■with a whole skin. Tia giving you a chance. Get out of this town—and stay out 1” . Barry, recovering quickly from the shocK, made a fair show* of bravado. “What are you talking about? iVhat the devil have I got to do with-*-” ‘T h a t’s enough !. You know What I’m talking about. Take my advice. Get out of town before you are a day older. You 'Wdl save yourself a ride on a rail and a raw'hiding that you’ll not forget to yonr dying day.” \I will leave this town when I feel like It, G-vrynne,” said Lapelle, drawing hiiii&elf up, “ I don't take orders from you. You will h e a r from nae later. You'we got th e upper hand now—with^ __ _ that nigg:er of yours staadiizg~^over' ' there holding an ax in his hands, ready to kill tiie if I make a move. We'li .settle this- in the regular way,. Gwymne— ^wlth pistols. YOU may e.x- pect a friend of mine to call on you shortly.” '‘A3-y<3u ,tike,” —pproncH'Yhe othej-, bowing istifily. “You may name the time and place.’’ Lapelle bowed and then cast an eye nboirt in quest of his hat. It was lying In tlxe road, some distance away. He strnSe over and picked it up. Quite naturally, perhaps unconsciously, he resorted to the habit of years; gie cocked it slightly a t just the right nngle over bis eye. Then, without a fl.ance behind, he crossed the road iiiul plunged Into the thicket. Kenneth watched him till lie disap- penred fi'om view. Suddenly aware of a pain In Uls hand, he held It ont before him and was astonished to find that the knuckles were already begin ning to pulf. He winced when he tried to elcnch his fist. A luofuJ smile twltcliod at the corners of his mouth. \JDghty slim chance I’D have,\ he said to'him self. “Won't* be nble to pull a trigger to save my Hfe.” It suiddenly occhrrefi lo',lilin.'that he Dught tOj intercept Rachel Gaiter he^ fore she reached the house, not only to prepare her for the shock that await ed Iter but to devise between them some means of undoing the harm that nlrcady had been done. They would have to stand together In denouncing Barry, they would have fo swear to Viola that the story was false. He realized what this would mean to him: an nhaost profane espousal of his enemy's cause, involving not only the betrayal of Ills own conscience, hut tlie deliberate repudiation of the debt lie owed his mother and her peo ple. H e would have to go before Viola nnd proclnhtt the innocence of the ivoinan who h ad robbed aad murdered his own mother. The unthinkahie. the unbelievable confronted him. A cold sweat broke out a ll over JJni gs he stood down by the gate, torn be tweoa haCri'd for oue tvoman and love for nmother: Rachel and Minda Car ter. He could not spare one without sparing the otlier: lying to one them meant lying for the other. B u t^ Diere was no alternative. The mem ory o f the look in Viola’s eyes as she EhraoJe saway' from Lapelle, th o u ^ t o f th e cruel shock she must have suflrered, the picture of her as Bhe came down the path to bill-^no, there could be no altei-nfitlve 1 Aua so, .as h e leaned rigidly against the gnte, sick at heart but clear of bead, waiting for Rachel Carter, he came to think tliat, after all, a duel with H a rry Lapelle might prove to be the easiest and noblest way out of his iiflSctElties. CTo be continued) ELK C R j ^ Mr. and Mrs. Geylon i hoine Saturday. ^ airdi^Ts! Arthur™fvlu^y T u e s- Mrs. DeWitt Sperry and .Mrs.. -Mr. and^ Mi*s. E. W.- Paitoick .spent Saturday iii Oneonta. , . Clarence Morrison, .Si-., and son, vUIage of 'Wdri S u n S y 'i r S i \ ; iql dti Scheneyus^ attending school dh Schenevus^ .She IS recovering nicely and will be able tq attend school tliis weekT Schenevus being present, Tlie ptor daiiglitm*. arco-nipafiiea'by Miss Get-
