The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 20, 1903, Page 5

TUp there, where men are plenty and women few and far between, the sight of Michele's daughter came as a surprise. One held his breath, for she was a flower, was Michele's daughter—a wood flower f the trail. She was worth while. And ere were many who understood that to wear this Most of them did not Good and 1 who hopelessly desired flower some day. bother Maria. She sent them off men, they were, too—a bit rough wild, good as men of the forest go. But there were three who were very ose admirers. Each of these had sworn have Maria for his own. One was a nuck, ¥ and ple. Francois he a good sort of chap, but with a tem- The next was an American, a man French name, too. This was Boutlllier, younger than ighter in complexion. The rd admirer was the greatest of th His name was Michele Goulet faria's father 1f that already Boutillier told her he was his. And old M shook his fist and that didn't belong to a all—that is, except to him. He . t she could marry anyb e must rema Can was, with a Le s and He Francols whispered was was his. out and ou ted—sacre! body at 1formed iy she al- is, bah! too! were were o8 8l she she Maria smiled—and & yet time,” marry she informed M Did not my mother marry apped old M e, facts in order to d young wo e her old added she said not? Marry nothing,” s the of her? And ough making even if did marr f er—sh nobody but me. So we ed. e had a mother,” insisted Marla ot ¥ What has that to do wi it?” retort- | B WILLIAN HAMILTON been well, THE SUNDAY CALL O/ BORNF ¢ Johnny, Johnny, who had treasured a few things up in his heart, was able, in the language of his pugilistic friend, to “hand it to Francols in the most approved manner. Francols went down, mot once, but eight, nine times. Then it was John- ny’'s turn to stroll around. Assuredly. But when Francols came around, after some days, Marja did nét touch his bruises with her finger. She laughed, and Francois stormed. But this could not go on forever. Fran- cols' said so. Johnny Le Boutllifer ac- quiesced. Michele Goulet feit In his bones that a crisis was impendin, It was a cool night in the fall that all three met, without deslgn, in the hut Each had designed to be there. Yes, but none had designed that the other should be there aiso. Francols Insinuated, he muttered; his jealousy would out. Johnny frowned. Old Goulet stormed. Every- body reasored that nobody else had any Lusiness there—except Maria. Everybody reasoned thst the room was big erough for two; that two was company, but thres 8 crowd; and four—it was outrageous, Francols and Maria, that would have reasoned Francols with him- self. But that idiot Le Boutilller! John- ny Le Boutillier amused himself by try- ing to stare Francols out of countenance. Michele Goulet—he would have cleared them all out; they had no business there. At length Maria spoke: “1 shall be fair,” she said; “fair to all. I will favor no ome. I shall favor not Francols, who wants to magry me; nor Johnny Le Boutilller, who would make me his wife,” Here she kept her face slight.y averted from ‘the ardent glance of Johnny. “Nor will I favor Michele Gou- let.” “You don't have to favor me.” growled Goulet, “only don’t marry. That is obe- dlence, not to mar Where would we all be if everybody married? 1 tell you he world would be in a great pickle. Den't favor me, my daughter. I don't ask anyth at all at your hands. Only dow't m y You sald you would be fair. Be fair. That is the way to be fair. Do not therefore, marry. Then all wiil be satls- fied. “Satisfied!” will retorted Francois. “How 1 be tisfled if she does not marry?"” tisfied nodded the old man, *“sat- that yau will not get her. « had waited patiently for the re- marks to end. *I shall be fair. Franco's has fought for me. He has won. Johnny has fought for me won, _too. Pere Gou'et has grow’ It is wor than fighting—we may say that he has won. Well and good. Now there € 1 be no e fight'ng. There shall Father Goulet sniffed the air. be ro more growling. 1 shall marry Fran- cubs think you knocw, but I cols: ¥ 1, Goulet, the great dice thrower, I Francols leaped to his feet. “My angel!” sm ctory. 1 am the winner at onge. he cried. Maria waved her hard. Le¢t me shuw you how, youngsters.' “Or—I shall marry Johnny Le Boutil He rcached forth and grasped an old r.” Johnny shufficd his feet with in- dice hox from a shelf. ‘lhere were t—o tercst and, recogniz ng that he had at there and one upon the shelf above. The least a fighting chance, began to whistie last box wes the newcst. softly Oid Goulet had one box. Asother-one “Or—1 shall not ma Th Mar a handed to Fianco's. The last she “Ha!" criea Father Goulet: “she shall gave to Johnny. 7 =% not marry. THere!” 3 ‘A brx fgb e cht she said, "lhn each “There shall be no more fighting and may shake we!l to make well." proceeded Goulet's ohuny shook his Lux remiscently. Il be chance and ‘*“The last time I played.” he remarked, E OF “TTHE NoerrH [ ZAIL For he had done well—as well as man could do. Maria, her face set to her task, was cutting notches thick and fast ce “This time," shall throw twic avolds delas He threw but better on the 'second exuitant. It was not the had thrown, and his skill was great. “Papa Gou'e saild he, “beat that if you can. Give it your best twist if you ZEAT — —~ turedly caught at him and, lifting him in the alr, dropped him upon the floor. “You must be polite,” said Johnny. Old Goulet swore and kicked at the dog. In the excitement Maria gathered up the dice and replaced the boxes upon the shel?. Then she turned to Johnny. “You—you have won, monsieur,” she said, looking him in the face; “you have won and I am yours.” “My forest flower,” said Johnny, with & bit of a catch in his voice, “come—come with me, my little bride.” In the Great North Trail when they marry, they marry. Through the night went Goulet's daughter with the arm of Johnny Le Boutlilier abou her. The priest’s eye brightened when he saw them. “Bless you, .my children,” sald he In benediction. As they wandered back toward Johnny's forest mansion at one point they crossed a stream of swiftly running water. Goulet's daughter suddenly held out her hand. It was closed tight upon some- thing. “See!” she exc “watch.™ He looked. Then w ove- ment a few white part.cles darted through the air and splashed into the stream be- neath. Johnny made a though he would had dawned upon h:m wi “They are dice,”” he ex with which I won you. as It sudden movement her action. at they were. almed dice 1 would have kept prevent them. But now they have sunk—I shall never see them e."” The girl laughed ed, “of a surety they have sunk. could they help 1t?" She drew d to him “Sunk,” she exclaim- How They were load- of course they ed—they were 1 Why n sank. t * exclaimed Johnny. vered she. “The bull-bear to him, when you and gave them ed!"* exclal that's not— “Why He stopped, for a ed Michele. “A mother, bah! Yes, but wager. ay for me. There.” with the bull bear from the States— can.” Goulet thre d' groaned. He, at sudden light had broken in upon him. . e what is a mother? She had no old father. They waited “ou three shall ‘threw ster with the neck. I lost to him any was a loser. “HnoBoll a - Teh Satl SRl os E erefore, and only therefore, she mar- dice.” she added, “and this shall end it. st a bit, 1 tell you." He thought of i g8 ol Nk S e e B ent g s ried. And therefore yon shouw:d not. It {s the game. It is gaming. 1 am the the nuglistc trick he had learned. ““He Francois. He smiled on Maria, and she “Yes,” she answered breathlessly. % & s er marey. T do not sxpect to marry. stake. 1 all go to l:;o;fld;zla\\'hgisw( 5 wasa \ui:d_or.x;ullfgf:»c 31“?\ r‘fl'é_::O:f‘u-‘ “ghe is mine—she is mine!” cried returned the smile. So entranced was he Johnny kissed her with vehemence. . Come now hat's good enough for hether,” she added, “it be Francois—' v son, oulet, was. s by it that he did hot first “Then " fianed: ot g is good enough for you L‘w k at me. 4 “'Y_\hf'r This from Franco's. That man with his two hands could m‘r_ow Francois. ““:““ oSt not : ,;“\.- MI: n [A.;d.x ;ljf‘va;’: 1;:3;,: . e . Maria drove her other two admire She turned her back upon Johnny Le a buck—perhaps @ Lul wmoose WA .gnare velled Francols with excite- had come to a he fore to- Misheiv's nzy point as well. Francols, the Boutillier. “Or Johnny Le Boutillier, }l‘.:‘:; b s el i ST ment, as he rolled his dice. He made a frowned She nodded. “Months, yea, years be- browed, w. e continued, “or Per F i <« fair. thraw=8 ¥ bad at this myself,” sald fore she answered posa e \Gotlet growied; bY is leap- Franco's shook his box. “You first i o Mg ¢ s FeraGond wn wied, but Francols 1eap- i @ Goulet's daughter. “Each shall have uiet followed. " he ex-J never tell her toward him. “My little toc the light of tor €0 0 s o ous with the dice” he ex- three throws, and I shall keep—what do claimed in guttural tones. For Lis score Yad s Soks men und claimed. “It is good. 1 agree. they say?—I shall keep tab. Your llm.;e. was low. 5 R0, i shout Boutilller, my husband,” 4 i aimed. Goulet~ laughed Johnny Le Francois.” He tas : e : - s IMas BOtES S game sport. I held it, ready to notch the table as they Johnny and 1 by side they plunged into the Great next fight between Francols and go you.” played. b A, “— - s : e —— = - : AN 4 ’ o dedinr - CARRINGTON’S MYSTIC M ELIZABETH’S FIRST PROPOSAL | arion Fieree'owns up 0 a A B | Beth Garrett—dear, homely | p 3 s s % | knowledges six! I asked her be By Henry Tholens % — * ; By Heith Gordon rngwIcaRA S M ! T Sk ; T was the softest of 2 5 S Al R vou can imagine how ma R — < Dot know Mrs. Bloomer Billings: but he ooetni A ek . SRR T e = had not been idle during the autumn prin = 3 B TR A R R S ! 7R t, 1903, by . McClure. {ght have been. Carrington knew that months, and without being a Sherlock Mowbray and Miss .-novh' now ““fi rpx’: t soften h{: m:xh‘ loved yor J‘F murmured in a thoug upon h g e Y Jove, Jack, n;» human b had been in that expanse Holmes he decided that he must get an Farrar strolled She interrupted quickly m after facts 8 2 B ray, watehir must walt until I get Of Sea while he was on the beach. invitation, and he did. Mrs. Billingy was gh i iktae- "= a0 ROk Siex S0 der il iting pou RS SR A e 3 r b, gking e camera for that With almost feverish haste he made a 2 literary lady whose assemblages were ¢ the park with . o~ 2 . fromha dis / i . Drint from the fil re was no dc diverse and often astonishing. Artists B E. “I haven't the least idea what it is was a f uspicion of a blush my.re was g palpabie pause before M's afterncon sun over the UL from ihe flm. fT e B doubt writers attended them, musicians and traction gpout, but I am glad that there is going iss Fairar's smooth cheeks, but er yp, 101 replied. But at last her straight- Water, . Aven's: thows " i thcei Which Ne hat sicver dden k, with a leavening of accepted the first o be no animosity,” Mowbray observed Elance met Mowbray's w.th its usual un- ¢, qapancse prevalled. Sinds . MASMNCOTT botore. seemied to SSoUR” nivk Bt mareic They were truls erogene- ather a\:d 3 politly. Then he settied himself to SWerving honesty that they loved me _'‘Sometimes 1 shake my head and look The rocks on the Ciad in a dainty bathing suit, she fitted °o° 52 s w: staniing. Hstho. It Was one ok hi vicsuss: thist he | Meq hive 016 mEshat Shey oven 108 rusher; shochgdi e (Ben hey. thinkss kil beach, the woods over into the. picture as if an artist hand had , Lo8erl¥ Carrington scanned the rooms. the beauty of never missed his cue. —several ¢ k.x ny more than it's a Osapprove of such conversatio think yonder, the waves almost too lazy to Posed her there, a dainty bit of indis- > J0NS-haired violinist had just finished e great stretches Her Lcxt words came out rather ab- POofal, vou know, any mor = ® I'm nchle, you know! At other times L | - o8 3 AR Nalbhte B Iy Taadas Is- 5 Beethoven sonata, and there was much 3 purchase when I say that I adore a string | ™ ; : kg '+ break as they come rolling up—T can see P an i Pllindod ot the o, ISR Seqats, end hes that T o m lavgh and I have never had onme! : scene and perfected it. Fate had tossed genpod arriigton was yee- 1 not especially plan,. do- iyou O DERTI At THEMAYH i n tone which implies just the reverse.” the picturs now, printed deep brown on 5'soc and perfested it Fate had & sented to Mra. Billings. who was sur- think 27 iz pibes A-a-h! She finished this confession and looked Sepla paper, fast to a prize at the ama- g ooy (0 oo i3 Nd 2 .undrd{b,’ a bevy of pretty girls. A mo- jaculatio: s full of enlight a e corne: s tel N " e ed e € s f the ay. ment of gallant conversation, and then N b b, . 2 e ejaculation was full of enligh at Mowbray out of the corner of her eyes teur cxhibition. P dh o : e ¢ ; 3 g e e eprecating, but she ment, Mowbray was beginning at last to iy a way that drove the last vestige of Jack laughed good-naturedly. Grayson and he had reached the inn just his face lit up with a sudden joy that rn 2 : n @ gen- it thiagh tHEE HARINBTE TUE e o o o e 1y. re noon, tired by a tramp of a half eaused his hostess to look up in politely mell of grow- epringtimes when life autiful possibility of Mowbray was thinking of her f by any chance it would e to tell her. r in spite attractiveness he € that he would it hard into those calm, clear eyes and talk of love. Yet he was peither cowardly nor inexperienced. He simply bad & natural shrinking from be- ing regarded with suppressed amusement by the woman he loved. And in her ap- parent immunity from such emotions that wes what he feared. She would, in all laugh her light, frank “Nonsense, Clark, don’t a speculative glance toward s she walked beside him looking the distance with the preoccupied whose whole mind was ossing .and persistent t sit for & while,” she proposed ey reached the top of a knoll, where, y tree, a bench invited re- £ the action to the word, mfortably with her tly on the back of the . to her aggres- ne which Mowbray had s premonitory of an ge out to a finish. it would be this time, nce dropped into his role patiently with eyes that relessly over the mansions on the t Fif venue, which in turn red stare, knowing that d soon reach the point last she broke the silence. u like a person selected . guished among wo- isagreeably distinguished, I mean?” e 1ded, turning toward him with rectness which challenged a truthful He regarded her in a manner intended to convey that he was making expert ex tion. N he admitted, can’t say that is—" He stopped rather swer. ner as impersonal as if she were calling his attention to the landscape. Then she continued impartially: “That is, I suppose I would be classed as ‘fair to middling? He nodded assent with a gleam of mis- chief in his eye. “To tell you the truth”—her tone had dropped into the personal, confidential key—“I'm not at all conceited about my looks, but I've alwa flattered myselt that I am rather interesting? Rather interesting, I think we " he agreed suavely. “And I'm sure I'm affectionate and fairly good tempered and—and—" Mowbray encouraged her by & nod. “And domestic.” “1 shall have to take your word for that.” “Well, T am domestic. I know I am! 8o I want you to explain to me”—her voice was growing tumultuous—*‘but first promise on your honor that you'll never tell how It is that I've reached the age of 33 without ever haying had a pro- posal?” Mowbray threw himself back and roar- ed, while her arms came down off the bench and she dropped her face upon her hands and sat looking at him with the puzzled air of a pupll at the feet of a master. “When you've done laughing,” she be- gan with dignity, “Pardon dear, a thousand pardon: He had never called her that before and there was something in his voice which bespoke & new hope and confidence, but she was too engrossed in her pursuit of self-knowledge to notice. “I forgot to say that I'm sensible. Men always like that, you know. Anyway, they pretend to. She finished in a way that suggested that she had her doubt of their sincerity. With a mighty effort her compmnion swallowed his mirth and prepared to face the situation with her. ““Is it because you haven't wanted any on'eI to ask you?” he inquired diplomati- cally. ‘No, indeed “And no man has ever told you that he may zled him, as his next question showed. the person whose dignity and coldness he “Would it be impertinent to ask how had stocd aloof from in absolute embar- you have received these declaration: rassment for so long. He could have “Why, 1 just listened! You see, It'S jsughed at the absurdity of it. Why had embarrassing. It makes one feel so ter- ribly conscious.” she never shown him her real self before? “1 think I shall propose to you,” he re- “What about the man?’ Mowbray marked deliberately. asked quietly. *“Doesn’t it occur to you For a second she looked surprised and that perhaps he might need a little en- then her eves danced. couragement—that perhaps he might be .yt it be in your best style,” she plead- & trifis consclous;: topT ed. “Remember, it's my first and I fear For a moment there was silence be- it may be my last, too!” tween them. The point of view was ut- g, jeaned toward hc: Chviouaty tmbpenget PRt T AU Mon yalehishebd e arte : B t und 1 “I never thought of that,” she admitted _ Tt Will be your 18t unoublediy ™ His slowly. “I thought that sort of thfi_r:g was o ment he looked at her—looked in a so in a man's line—his metler.” She g.y tha¢ first made her small ears burn laughed a bit ruefully. her cle A squirrel darted swiftly across the S1J then troubled her clear gaze, which grass and turning its head jauntlly to o iy one side fixed a bright inquiring eys UPOn 1 ¢1iox you knaw the res them. Then with a saucy wave Of Its you'dott beautiful tall it scurried away. Her cheeks were hot and her lips trem- “I have it,” said Mowbray, “I have it! hied. A strong hand reached out and Learn from the squirrel! Lightuess, airi- tool hers in a masterful way, and she ness, coquettishness! Don’t you see what gygdenly knew that something which she and he looked at her teasingly. haq never dreamed—was true. was not to be diverted. “I am Byt I asked you,” she moaned, when she assured him. ‘‘There's al- g¢ last she recovered her wonted serenity, ways a reason for everything and there «I positively asked you!" must be a reason for this. There's Alice “You encouraged me,” he corrected, Nixon! She’'s not so awfully pretty. I “anq that's what they usually do, only heard her say that she had had nineteen your method was brutally direct!” proposals!” Miss Farrar's volce was It was when she began to flush again touched with awe. Then a skeptical that he added: *“1 shall always have thought seized her. “Still—she’s from the something to tease you about, dearest! South!” she added, and her tone implied . And the squirrel, which had been watch- that an allowance should be made for the ing them in the lingering hope that they fact. might possibly have brought him nuts, Mowbray bit his lip. like sensible people, gave up in disgust “Then there’s her sister—just an or- and scurried away. and looked id simply, “and Tell me that THE SUNDAY CALL’S Two Full Pages of the Latest Fascinating Craze in Literature HALF-HOUR STORIETTES b SRR SIS S R Oula . SSChPT IR e o PR TR T VR RO e S RS “All right, old man; sail in, but hurry up,” he sald. Five minutes later George Carrington had snatched his camera from the broad hallway of the Berkeley Inn, snapped it at the waterscape, and he and Jack Grayson were off on a fishing trip. It was the last day of their vacation, spent wandering down the const at random, seldom two nights in tho same place. The final day's sport over, Carrington sped back to the city in a train, camera, fishing kit and grip beside him, tanned and tired, but happy. He reached his apartments and thought of the last pic- ture of clouds and rocks and sea. ke must develop it forthwith, and he did. “A vacation of jolly good fun witlteut a romance,” he mused. ‘‘Nature, sun- shine, fresh air, & good chum and good fishing. Nothing more to be desired.” The film sank in the developing fluid, and In a few seconds the outlines of a coast scene appeared. First came the blotches of black, representing the high lights, clouds and the crests of waves. By an alchemy, which never ceases to be marvelous, all the delicate gradations of light and shade filled in until the perfect picture appeared. Then occurred something which caused Carrington to gasp In astonishment and almost drop the developing tray. For in the center of the picture, head and shoulders visible above the crest of a breaker, appeared the form of a young woman, like a mermaid arising out of the sea. There was a saucy tilt to the laugh- ing face, and the bare arms were out- stretched as a beckoning mermaid's dozen miles from a ing station farther dowh the coast. Dinner, then a test; the snap shot, and the final two hours’ fish- ing that closed the fortnight's holiday, leaving the camera in the hotel office be- side his grip while he was gone; then sup- per and the train back to the city. All this was clear enough.” But how did the mermaid creep into his camera? Car- rington stared at the laughing face in blank perplexity. Only one point was certain. It was the prettiest face he had ever seen In his life. A paper he had recently read in a scien- tific journal flashed across his mind. It dealt with the photographic discovery of a new light ray, inv'sible to the eye, but duly recorded on the pecullarly scnsitized photographic plate. “Nonsense!” ne promptly sald. “That's a flesh and blood girl. She has the face of an angel, but angels don’t wear bath- ing suits with all those frills Next day he jumped on a train and was whisked to Berkeley Inn. He sought the manager and showed him the plcture. “You recognize her, of course?’ Car- rington asked with a careless afr. “I should say I did,” said the manager with a smile. “That's the handsonfe one of the Langford girls who werz here a month with their aunt. Went back to town only a couple of days ago. Splen- did picture. Taken right here on the beach, too,” he added in a quizzical tone. “I didn't know you were acquainted.” Carrington rejeeted the conversational tender. “Yes, I think it's pretty good was all he sald. But just before train time he sought the porter and casually asked him the destination of the Lang- ford baggage two days before. “New York, sah,” came the ready re- sponse. “Thank you, sah.” The journey had not been altogether in vain. And while other passengers on that train chatted gayly together, or read their newspapers, or watched the panorama of forest and farmland and the twinkling lights of villages, there was one young man whose eyes and attention did not wander from a photograph he held before him. Three months later he was at one of Mrs. Bloomer Billings’ receptions. He daid suppressed wonder. In that group. now in a setting of pink and white, but with the same laughing face of the glistening beach and wave, stood his Lady of the Sea. An hour later they sat together on m window seat listening to a prima donna’s song. “I have a picture I would like you te see, Miss Langford,” he said diffidently. He took the photograph from his pocket- book and showed it to her. She gave a little startled cry, and the unmounted print fell from her hand. “Why—why—you ~were at Berkeley Inn?" she exclalmed. “I took a picture of the beach, but not that one,” he sald slowly. “And yet that is the one I found in my camera.” “Their eves met for an instant, and the girl flushed crimson. Silent and be- ‘wildered she studied the photograph. Sud denly she broke into the laugh of the waterwitch again. “No less surprising was the picture my sister took of me,” she exclalmed ex- citedly. “The water and rocks were love- ly, but T was nowhere to be seen!” “Now the mystery is no longer myste- rious!” laughed Carrington. “It's plain enough. I saw another camera in the ho- tel office, but never thought until this in- stant that I might have picked up the wrong one. Your sister teok a picturs with mv camera and I took one with hers.” Suddenly he became silent, and, after a moment or two stammered. “I—I suppose this is your sister’s property, but may I not keep 117 The girl tossed her head and smiled in mock hesitation. She had been turning the picture around and around in her hand. Then the smile and the warm blood left her face in company and there was an almost imperceptible tremor of the long dark eyelashes. On the back of the photograph she had read: “My mermaid.” Again their eves met, but hers were quickly withdrawn. Her hesitation was real now. Both were silent another moment. He sat eagerly, expectantly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, and as she slowly ex- tended her hand and placed the plcture in his he felt the warm touch of her fin- gertips.