The Seattle Star Newspaper, September 10, 1921, Page 11

| ut AY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1921 WINDS OF 1 All Right (Continued From Yesterday) “I'm going to send you away and 9 to bed,” Jill told him, trying to Uehtly, “Perhaps I have had many late nights—perhape I—" stopped, as the telephone d shrilly ffom the table. dew took a step forward. something of a shock. . ts that you, Ralpht x CHAPTER 7 AY x he house, Jili thought, shrinkingty, ‘she stood moment in the bi; your advertise t in the | i ! i i L 5 é | tr i Fatt & | | E is J Visit the SAN JUAN ISLANDS Last Steamer Excursion of the season to this island wonderiand. SEPT. 11 2.50 alf Fare Phone Main 2992, or inquire at_ ticket office, Colman ‘Dock, for information. GHT SOUND NAVIGATION CO. LIFE’S DARN FUNNY OLA DANA T Sel We Was a dreadful silence over THE WORLD” | M. AYRES » Reserved hall at Ratph Hillyard'’s. She had been afraid to ask any | questions of the servant who ad: | mitted her: it seemed to require an actual physical effort te move on into the drawing room. Here, to her excited imagination, everything looked changed too; there were rosea érooping in their vaseo—e pile of magazines strewn anyhow on one of the couches; the whole room had &@ sort of neglected appearance as if to indicate that there were other matters of far greater tmportance to be seen to. Jill went ever to the window and |@rew back the curtains; she felt stifling: she flung the window wide |to the night and the street outside; even the rumbling of distant traffic seemed muffied, as tf one heard it thru the enveloping folds of s funeral pall. Jin ehivered and turned away; tf only someone would come to her; if only she knew the worst—knew what waa happening upstairs. It spoke eloquently of the strained re lationship between herself and Fiill- yard that she felt forced to wait there formalty, instead of being al- lowed to rush up at onos to Kathy. But a moment later the door opened, and Hillyard himself walked into the room; he looked very white and drawn, and for the firet time since she had known oe pathy filled Jill's heart as she Pushed anrens the room towards him. “How are they? Kathy — Ralph, tet! me.” ‘ In her eagerness she caught his hand, holding him fast. He looked away from ber: when he spoke she hardly knew bie voice, it was eo strained and altered. “She's il--very il; the—the doctor told me to send for you—it’s. you she wants—you she keeps asking for— | not me—she has never once asked for me." ‘There was something heartbroken fore he anewered her. “A boy—it only lived an hour.” He dropped suddenty into a chair, hiding his face in shaking hands, wasn't that I didn't love her—she must know—it wasn't that I didn’t ; | | f x! id 3 if i E j ? - Hi j 3 : : | ky I if il ' H i Hi i . i A ae i it Hs i 3.92 f gt i il i z £ $ 7 hE rh i Ngee fg a8 ait ga3e | i i “Kathy? said Jill again softly. ‘The nurse came forward. “She won't know you, I think,” she said gently. “But she has been asking for you incessantly.” “I came as soon ag I could,” said Jill, sobbing. % She looked at Kathy, and the tragedy of it all swept over her in an overwhelming flood. A_ strange of incongruous memories passed thro her brain—their life in the dull little street where children quarreled all day—the Sunday when she had first seen Tallentyre—the fervent Salvationist who had seemed to hurl his words directly at her. “Come from the troublesome eea of the world into the harbor of safety.” Tho it was all those months ago, she could hear his high- pitched, raucous voice as if it had been but yesterday; she remembered the smile which she and Tallentyre had exchanged—the queer little feel ing of disappointment that touched ber heart when he turned and walked away. She had hated her life then—she had never been like Kathy—Kathy who had only asked to be allowed to stay in the calm and peace of the harbor, and whose wish had been re- fused. She had been taken out to battle with the winds of the world | and the buffeting waves of greatness, |and they had been too much for her weakness, And now—was It to end like this? Had the frail, delicate | boat been washed up into still waters fat last by the guiding hand of | Death?” | Jill dropped to her knees and hid her face, | Poor Kathy! Tho she had married the man she loved, perhaps only Jill knew what a disappointment to her that marriage had been; even the happiness of look: ing forward to the coming of her child had been overshadowed by the {knowledge that she would have to Kathy—poor, poor little OH,1 DON’T WELL, THE LITTRE SWEETIE] pony IS SITTING IN THERE sont ev BAKE IT! We’LL Give ALL DOLLED UP AND WITH | Wiipur A LITTLE A BOX OF CANDY AND A MAGAZINE, AND HER BED | LIFE WHEN HE ISN'T EVEN MIND IT! care of a nurse of whom she was already afraid. She had dreaded ft 20 “I shan't even be allowed/to have) my own baby.” So she had once said to sm, And now there would be no baby— she had been robbed of that joy. She looked at the white face on ‘the pMow with its cloud of golden! hair; oh, it could not be true that she | let her die? | Ralph Hiltyarf’s remorse had touched her, too. She told herself | nights aft: that heart-broken + {t seemed to haunt her with its! “Darting” JM canght the one breathless word—and the last look of | ineftable love that filled her eyes aa! they rested on her husband—and/| then a great wave from the ocean wf | life caught Kathy high on Its crest | and carried“her away, away, eafo| into harbor. | — CHAPTER XII The rain beat itself snddenty| Against the window with a sharp! rattle, and Jill looked up*from the book she had vainly been trying to read. Outside, the street looked wet and cheerless—summer had gone— October winds had torn the leaves from the treem, and left branches bare and shivering before the coming of winter, Two endless months since Kathy @ied!—two endlege months since Jil heard the sharp whirr of the tele phone in this very room, asummoning her to her sister. The world had seemed a queer place since then—she wondered how it had seemed to Ralph. She could not bear to think of him —to look back on those first agonized days of his grief. “Hillyard has aged 20 years,” young Merredew said once to Jin. “Poor fellow—poor dear old fellow.” | It was quite true—the lons of his wife had struck at the very root of his life. Tallentyre and he were always to gether, Jill knew; Tallentyre had stood by his friend loyally and saved Ralph from utter despair. He had stayed with him night and day, till the first awful shock had passed. She fierself had seen him once or twice since, but neither of them had gfven a thought to their own affairs, she was sure—life had completely changed since Kathy died. Since Kathy died! She heard the words #0 often, and they still seemed | #0 empty—to convey so little. ‘Tho two months had passed, ehe still found hereelf thinking, “I must tell Kathy this—this will amuse Kathy.” But Kathy was dead}— “Jil rose to her feet and wandered restlessly about the room; there was | an odd sort of feverish excitement in her veins, as if she had been told that something of great importance | was about to happen, But what could happen now that would matter at all? What could happen now to give her either joy or happiness again? \ “Af'er the sudden loss of that whole wagonload of people,” Mra. B. continued, “we grew more cautious, We lacked the feeling of mafety and were afraid to be Meve in the entire friendliness of the bands of Indians we met from time to time. “One day we came to a river which was too deep to ford, acrom which the settlers who had gone before us or the English or some body had laid a pontoon bridge.” “What is a ‘pontoon’ bridge?” Pegry interrupted, and David hastened to explain: “Why, Peexy, you know what that is. Don't you remember tn the war they all the time had pic- tures of thone bridges built across little boata, instead of on pillars?” And Pegry remembered. “Well,” Mra 3B. continued, “when we got to this bridge there were many Indians about it. “Their chief stood majestically wrapped fn his bright blanket from neck to heel, his long hair tn a plait down the back and the business end of a gun sticking up from his folded arma, “He stood guard while his men tore away the bridge, and having “TASTE OF DOMESTIC Chapter 2 broken and thrown away their guna, the settlers had no weapons to fight with and no power to stop them “"You no can pass thjs way,’ the big chief said. ‘No can cross. ‘Too much white man is come. ‘This Indian country.’ “It was morning when we reached the river and by noon it seemed as if we must get on. So, risking his own life, father took his stand beside the ohief and directed the men to try to cross the river. “They found that, tho pretty deep, the;river could be crossed, and, slowly, team by team, the wagons were taken over. “When the last one was across, the chief, who had almost stopped the tratn, finally handed father his syp—which Proved to be an old musket without lead, powder or bullets.” crhkkh thought of them as one thinks of characters in a book-—characters whom one has never met in real life. Rigden had tried many times to see her, but she had always refused. Kathy had not liked him—Kathy bad asked her to give him up-— JiM thought of the night when she and Rigdep and Tallentyre had al) dined atthe Hillyards’—of the song Rigden had sung then, to please Kathy. A copy of it stood now on the wive him up for half bis life to the] Rigden and the Despards—she plano, and Jill went across the room and turned its pages absently: “last night I was thee, love, was dreaming !—- I dreamed thou wert living, my dar- ling, my darling. I dreamed that I held thee once more to my breast!" dreaming—of ‘The tears rushed to Jill's eyes, and blotted out the words. To have her back again—for just a day: just an hourt She stood quite still in the silent room and pressed her hands hard over her eyes. (Continued Tomorrow) WANTS TO STAY AROUND HERE SHE'LL HAVE TO MAKE HER Own BED, AND DO A FEW OTHER LITTLE THINGS! INSTEAD OF STRIKING BLOWS EXHIBITION, THE OPPONENTS WILBUR | WANT To TIP You OFF OM sbmemint- IF YOUR NEW LITTLE WIFEY FOR A WHILE, 81 A BOXING TICKLE ONE ANOTHER UNTIL ONE TAKES THE LAUGH COUNT “Do you think you ought to be here, Mr. Ames?” I asked at length —and Philip Ames made no move to nd his intrusion into my bedroom “Why the ‘Mr. Ames’ and what @ifference does it make if I ought not to be here? Who knows I'm here but you and J, and im't that what counts? It isn’t what you do, but who knows what you do—imn’t | that right?” his voice was a shade impatient. “No, you're wrong thera. It seems |to me that you're-—upset; you have been drinking too much"—tI ven- | tured. “Again, my dear, you may be right —I'm alvays willing to agree with lovely ladies!” I hated the leer in his voice. . “You're—you're going too fart Please leave” “Don't treat me that way-—don’t —" he was coming toward me “Are you going to get out of here? suddenly I was angry. “Don’t give the thing away—tf you talk loudly and Li hears you she'll think that you tricked me into coming into your room, instead of he n—" I started to speak. ‘ou needn't talk—just listen a while! I'm getting tired of the game you're playing. You're no different from the rest of them—frivolous, foolish things with a price on your heads!" He was maudlin. “Mr. Ames, you're not yourself,” I tried to persuade him; “won't you Please go home and rest?” He was between me and the door. “No—I'm mot going—I'm here and I'm going to stay until I get ready to leave!” ° “Let's go out tn the alr; you'll fee) better.” 1 started toward him, thinking to lead him toward the door and get him out. % “I tell you I'm going to sfay here and—" he started toward me. In a second he was gripping me and had kissed me. With the hand that was free I struck him squarely in the eyes. “You little wildeat? he flung out. Rubbing his eyes, he backed out into the hall. I wanted to ery—but not altogether because I had been so insulted. I was sorry thht a man who had so many fine things about him had cul- tivated only the wrong side of him- self, Surely, T thought, there must have been something very fine about @ WHEN A WOMAN TELLS » By RUTH AGNES ABELING (Ceprright, 1931, vy Geattle Star.) CHAPTER XXXII.—PHILIP AMES KISSES ME . ja man who thought so'often of flowers lana arranged them as carefully and as beautifully as Philip,Ames did. Bo when I looked at beautiful violets, which so recently Philip Ames had arranged on my |felt like crying? MAK: WOMAN TO HAVE MY WIFE | DOW’ T CARE best? HELEN PAGE 11 BY ALLMAN E A BED AS GOOD AS 0 1M NOT GOING BE A DRutcE., A131 Uy “0,” said Nick, “that reminds me. A letter came from the Fairy Queen.” Nancy and Nick did not go upto the sky again with Mr. Sprinkle Blow, What was the use? The fairy. map told them that after one big celebration tn the fall, Howly Thunder and Jumpy Lightning and Old Man Flood usually crawled back into their house and went to sleep until spring. He also said that Sizzly Dry Weather never stuck his nose {out of doors until late the next sym- psa |them that Jack was of more help |than they could imagine after a cer- tain time in the fall, and that altho he had escaped and was hiding some- where in the woods, there was no need to worry about him any more. “But,” wondered Nick, “don't you have to make snowstorms?" “Yes, sig,” nodded Sprinkle-Blow. “But that's the only job I have, Just enough to keep my mind off my troubles. Once every two or three days I whistle for Old North Wind to roll some heavy snow clouds over the world for me and give them a good shake. The Snow Fairies fy down and make the world beautiful. Then I turn in and go to sleep un- til it’s time for more snow. Jack Frost looks after the rest of it. He's a heard worker all winter long. Busiest person you ever knew! “Oh! said Nick. “That reminds me. A letter came for you from the Fairy Queen. Here it is.” SprinkleBlow unfolded it and As for Jack Frost, he assuted | read: “Dear Mr, Sprinkle-Blow— “Please send Jack Frost at once. He is needed on the earth to sweeten the grapes and pumpkins, to crack open nut-burrs and to paint the leaves on the trees different colors. , Scramble Squirrel and Chick aree can't wait till he comes. the Twins, please, that I wish'to see them, “Gratefully yours, “THE FAIRY QUEEN.” — (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Stax)