Newspaper Page Text
BtKBWDAYfiGHTI
X, - W . ,A>dACK LpNDON^^'
Xif/k\ ni/rro/? or “the cm or r//rwLD*
‘ - ? u& u hw/rE rfi/fG:"'cfrpr^rorN:'rrc
_ —^6 (Copyright. 1910, by the New York Herald Company.)
(Copyright. 1910. by the MacMillan Company.
12
SYNOPSIS.
Elam Harnish, known all through Alas
ka as "Burning Daylight,” celebrates his
30th birthday with a crowd of miners at
the Circle City Tivoli. The dance leads
to heavy gambling, in which over SIOO,OOO
is staked. Harnish loses his money .and
his mine but wins the mall contract. He
starts on his mall trip with dogs and
sledge, telling bls friends that he will be
in the big Yukon gold strike at the start.
Burning Daylight makes a sensationally
rapid run across country with the mail,
appears at the Tivoli and Is now ready
to join his friends in a dash to the new
gold fields. Deciding that gold will be
found In the up-river district Harnish
buys two tons of flour, which he declares
will be worth its weight in gold, but
when he arrives W'ith his flour he finds
the big flat desolate. A comrade discov
ers-gold and Daylight reaps a rich har
vest. He goes to Dawson, becomes the
most prominent figure in the Klondike
and defeats a combination of capitalists
in a vast mining deal. He returns to
civilization, and. amid the bewildering
complications of high finance. Daylight
finds that he has been led to invest ids
eleven millions In a manipulated scheme.
He goes to New York, and confronting
bis disloyal partners witli a revolver, he
threatens to kill them if his money is not
returned. They are cowed, return their
stealings and Harnish goes back to San
Francisco where he meets his fate in
Dede Mason, a pretty stenographer. He
makes large investments and gets into ths
political ring, For a rest lie goes to the
country. Daylight gets deeper into high
finance in San Francisco, but often the
longing for the simple life nearly over
comes him. Dede Mason buys a horse and
Daylight meets her in her saddle trips.
One day he asks Dede to go with him
on one more ride, ills purpose being to
ask her to marry him.
CHAPTER XlV.—Continued.
• —
He hung almost gleefully upon her
actions in anticipation of what the
fractious Bob was going to get. And
Bob got it, on his next whirl, or at
tempt, rather, for he was no more than
half-way around when the quirt met
him smack on his tender nose. There
and then, in his bewilderment, sur
prise and pain, his fore feet, just skim
ming the road, dropped down.
“Great!" Daylight applauded. "A
couple more will fix him. “He's too
smart not td&now when he’s beaten.”
Again Bob tried. But this time he
was barely quarter around when the
doubled quirt on his nose compelled
him to drop his fore feet to the road.
Then, with neither rein nor spur, but
by the mere threat of the quirt, she
straightened him out.
Dede looked triumphantly at Day
light.
‘‘Let me give him a run?” she asked.
Daylight nodded, and she shot down
the road. He watched her out of
sight around the bend, and watched
till she came into sight returning. She
certainly could sit her horse, was his
thought, and she was a sure enough
hummer. God, she was the wife
for a man’ Made most 6f them
look pretty slim. And to think
of her hammering all week at
a typewriter. That was no place
for her. She should be a man’s
wife, taking it easy, with silks and
satins and diamonds (his frontier no
tion of what befitted a wife beloved),
and dogs and horses, arid such things.
But the quarry' was doomed to pass
out of his plans for a time, for on the
following Sunday he rode alone. No
Dede on a chestnut sorrel came across
the back-road from Berkeley that day,
nor the day a week later. As the
third week drew to a close and anoth
er desolate Sunday confronted him.
Daylight resolved to speak, office or
no office. And as was his nature, he
went simply and directly to the point
She had finished her work with him,
and was gathering her note pad
and pencils together to depart, when
he said:
“Oh, one more thing. Miss Mason,
and I hope you won’t mind my being
frank and straight out. You’ve struck
me right along as a sensible-minded
girl, and I don’t think you’ll take of
fense at what I’m going to say. Y»u
know how long you’ve been in the of
fice —it’s years, now, several of them,
anyway; and you know I’ve always
been straight and aboveboard with
you. I’ve never what you call —pre-
sumed. Because you were in my office
I’ve tried to be more careful than if
—if you wasn’t in my office —you un
derstand. But just the same, it don’t
make me any the less human. I'm
a lonely sort of a fellow —don't
take that as a bid for kindness. What
I mean by it is to try and tell you
just how much those two rides with
you have meant. And now I hope you
won’t mind my just asking why you
haven’t been out riding the last two
Sundays?”
< She played nervously with a pencil
’ for a time, as If debating her reply,
while he waited patiently.
“This riding,” she began; “it’s not
what they call the right thing. I
leave it to you. You know the world.
That’s the trouble. It’s what the
world would .have to say about me
and my employer meeting regularly
and riding in the hills on Sundays.
It's funny, but it’s so. I could ride
with one of the clerks without re
mark, but with you—no."
“Look here. Miss Mason,” said Day
light. “I know you don’t like this
talking over of things in the office.
Neither do T. It’s part of the whole
thing, I guess; a man ainU supposed
to talk anything but business with his
• stenographer. Will you ride with me
next Sunday, and we can talk it over
thoroughly then and reach some sort
of a conclusion. Out in the hills is
the place where you can talk some
thing besides business. 1 guess you’ve
1 seen enough of me to know I'm pretty
square. I—l do honor and respect
you, and. . v and all that, and 1
..." He was beginning to floun
der, and the hand that rested on the
desk blotter was visibly trembling.
He strove to pull himself together.
“I just want to harder than anything
ever in my life befpre. I—I —I can’t
explain myself, but I do, that’s all.
Will you—Just next Sunday? To
morrow?”
Nor did he dream that her low ac
quiescence was due. as much as any
thing else, td the beads of sweat on
his forehead, his trembling hand and
his all too-evident general distress.
“Os course, there’s no way of tell
ing what anybody wants from what
they say." Daylight rubbed Bob’s re
bellious ear with his quirt and pon
dered with dissatisfaction the words
he had just uttered. They did not
say what lie had meant them to say.
“What I’m driving at is that you say
flatfooted that you won’t meet me
again, and give your reasons, but how
am I to know they are your real rea
sons? Mebbe you just don’t want to
get acquainted with me, and won’t say
so for fear of hurting my feelings.
Don’t you see? I'm the last man in
the world to shove in where I'm not
wanted. And if I thought you didn’t
care a whoop to see anything more of
me, why I'd clear out so blamed quick
you couldn’t see me for smoke."
It had been a happy day. Daylight
had met her on the backroad from
Berkeley, and they had had hours to
gether. It was only now, with the
day drawing to a close and with them
approaching the gate of the road to
Jr '
KH I f \UU
If wL
“I Could Ride With One of the Clerks Without Remark, but With You—
No.”
Berkeley, that he had broached the
important subject.
She began her answer to his last
contention, and he listened gratefully.
“But suppose, just suppose, that the
reasons I have given are the only
ones?—that there is no question of
my not wanting to know you?”
“Then I’d go on urging like Sam
Scratch,” he said quickly. “Because,
you see, I've always noticed that folks
that incline to anything are much
more open to hearing the case stated.
But If you did have that other season
up your sleeve, if you didn’t want to
know me, if —if, well, if you thought
my feelings oughtn’t to be hurt just
because you had a good job with me.
. . Here, his calm consideration
of at possibility was swamped, by the
fear that it was an actuality, and be
lost the thread ot his reasoning.
“Well, anyway, all you have to do Is
to say the word and I’ll clear out.
And with no hard feelings; it would
be just a case of bad luck for me. So
be honest, Miss Mason, please^ and
tell me if that’s the reason—l' almost
got a hunch that It is.”
“Oh, but that isn’t fair,", she cried.
“You give me the choice of lying to
you and hurting you in order to pro
tect myself by getting rid of you, or
of throwing away my protection by
telling you the truth, for then you, as
you said yourself, would stay and
Urge.”
Daylight smiled grimly with satis
faction.
“I’m real glad, Miss Mason, real
glad for those words."
“But they won't serve you," she i
went on hastily. “They can’t serve
you. I refuse to let them. This is our i
last ride, and . . . here is the gate." ■
Ranging her mare alongside, she ■
bent, slid the catch, and followed the
opening gate.
“No; please, no,” she said, as Day
light started to follow.
Humbly acquiescent, he pulled Bob
back, and the gate swung shut be
tween them. But there was more to
say, and she did not ride on.
“Listen, Miss Mason," he said, in a
low voice that shook with sincerity;
“I want to assure you of one thing.
I'm not just trying to fool around with
you. I like you, I want you, and 1
was never more earnest in my life.
There’s nothing wrong in my inten
tions or anything like that. What I
mean is strictly honorable —”
But the expression of her face made
him stop. She was angry, and she
was laughing at the same time.
Dede Mason had quick, birdlike
ways, almost flitting from mood to
mood; and she was all contrition on
the instant.
“Forgive me for laughing.” she said
across the gate. “It wasn’t really
laughter. I was surprised off my
guard, and hurt, too. You see, Mr.
Harnish, I’ve not been . . .”
She paused, in sudden fear of com
pleting the thought into which her
birdlike precipitancy had betrayed
her.
“What you mean is that you’ve not
been used to such sort of proposing,”
Daylight said: “a sort of on-the-rnn,
‘Howdy, glad-to-make-your-acqualnt
ance, won’t-you-be-mine’ proposition.”
She nodded and broke into laughter,
in which he joined, and which served
to pass the awkwardness away. He
gathered heart at this, and went on
in greater confidence, with cooler
head and tongue.
“There, you see, you prove my case.
You’ve had experience in such mat
ters. I don’t doubt you've had slath
ers of proposals. Well, I haven't, and
I’m like a fish out of water. Besides,
rthls ain’t a proposal. It’s a peculiar
situation, that's all, and I’m in a cor
ner. I’ve got enough plain horse
sense to know a man ain’t supposed
to argue marriage with a girl as a rea
son for getting acquainted with her.
And right there was where I was in
the hole. Number one, I can't get ac
quainted with you in the office. Num
ber two, you any you won’t see me
eut of the office to give me a chance.
। Number three, your reason is that
folks will talk because you work for
me. Number four, I just got to get
acquainted with you, and I just got to
get you to see that I mean fair and
all right. Number five, there you are
on one side the gate getting ready to
go, and me here on the other side
the gate pretty desperate and bound
to say something to make you recon
sider. Number six, I said it. And
now and finally, I just do want you to
reconsider.”
He was such a boy, this big giant
of a millionaire who had half the rich
800
V mW
- WiWto '
\J®wß’-
ft
k
“I Like You, I Want You and I Never
. Was More Earnest in My Life.”
men of San Francisco afraid of him.
Such a boy! She had never imagined
this side of his nature.
“How do folks get married?" he
was saying. “Why, number one, they
meet; number two, like each other’s
looks; number three, get acquainted;
and number four, get married or not,
according to how they like each other
after getting acquainted. But how in
thunder we're to have a chance to find
out whether we like each other
enough is beyond my savvee. unless
we make that chance ourselves. I’d
come to see you, call on you, only I
know you’re just rooming or boarding,
and that won’t do.”
“It’s getting late now, anyway,"
Daylight hurried on, “and we’ve set
tled nothing at all. Just one more
Sunday, anyway—that’s not asking
much —to settle it in.”
She gathered the reins into her
hand preliminary to starting.
“Good night,” she said, “and —”
“Yes," he whispered, with just the
faintest touch of imperativeness.
“Yes,” she said, her voice low but
distinct.
At the same moment she put the
mare into a canter and went down the
road without a backward glance, in
tent on an analysis of her own feel
ings.
CHAPTER XV.
Life at the office went on much the
way it had always gone.
In spite of their high resolve, there
was a very measurable degree of the
furtive in their meetings. In essence,
these meetings were stolen. They did
not ride out brazenly together in the
face of the wqrld. On the contrary,
they met always unobserved, she rid
ing across the many-gated backroad
from Berkeley to meet him halfway.
Nor did they ride on any save unfre
quented roads, preferring to cross the
second range of hills and travel among
a church-going farmei* folk who would
scarcely have recognized even Day
light from his newspaper photographs.
He found Dede a good horsewoman
good not merely in riding, but in en
durance. There were days when they
covered sixty, seventy, and even
eighty miles; nor did Dede ever claim
any day too long, nor —another strong
recommendation to Daylight—did the
hardest day ever see the slightest
chafe of the chestnut sorrel’s back.
“A sure enough hummer,” was Day
light’s stereotyped but ever enthusias
tic verdict to himself.
His lifelong' fear of woman had orig
inated out of nonunderstanding and
had also prevented him from reaching
any understanding. Dede on horse
back, Dede gathering poppies on a
summer hillside, Dede taking down
dictation in her swift shorthand
strokes—all this was comprehensible
to him. Bqt he did not know the
Dede who so quickly changed from
mood to mood, the Dede who refused
steadfastly to ride tvith him and then
suddenly consented, the Dede In
whose eyes the golden glow forever
waxed and waned and whispered
hints and messages that were not for
his ears. In all such things he saw
the glimmering profundities of sex,
acknowledged their lure, and accept
ed them as Incomprehensible.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Chinese to Make History.
For the first time in the history of
athletes the Chinese are to compete
with other nations at the Olympic
games of 1912. In the track and field
sports the students of the University
of Shanghai for three years have been
coached by an Englishman.
SPRING
t Will Soon Be Here!
And you want to relieve your Horse or Mule of that old heave coat of
dirty hair. With a little experience you can clip a horse in 30 minutes
with a
Stewart Ball Bearing Clipping Machine
WHICH COSTS ONLY $7.50.
BALKCOM HARDWARE CO.
KEEP THEM IN STOCK AND HAVE ONE FOR YOU.
DR?niPREIWIST
First-cl ass Work
At Reasonable Prices.
Georgia Life Building, Macon, Ga.
Danger!
Danger!
NEIGHBOR, IS YOUR LIFE INSURED? YES.
IS YOUR HOUSE AND BARN INSURED# YES.
VERY WELL, THEN, YOU SEEM TO BE TAKING PRECAUTION
AS IF SOMETHING TERRIBLE WAS GOING TO OVERCOME YOU.
STILL THIS DOES NOT SHOW BAD JUDGMENT IN YOU, BUT
RATHER SHOWS THAT YOU ARE A PROGRESSIVE AND SAFE
BUSINESS MAN.
One More Question We
Would Ask You: Is Your
Money Insured?
HAD YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?
HOW ABOUT THAT MONEY THAT IS LYING BACK IN THE
TRUNK? IS IT INSURED? IF NOT, YOU ARE THE PERSON WE
ARE LOOKING FOR.
WE OFFER YOU A SAFE PLACE TO LEAVE YOUR MONEY
WHERE IT IS INSURED AGAINST LOSS. NOT SIMPLY FROM
FIRE, FROM ROBBERS AND THE LIKE, BUT INSURED AGAINST
LOSS.
THAT WORD, LOSS, COVERS THE WHOLE CATEGORY OF
LOSSES. A FELLOW DOES NOT HAVE TO GET HIS MONEY
BURNED UP TO LOSE, HE DOES NOT EVEN HAVE TO BE HELD
UP AND ROBBED TO LOSE IT, BT OCCASIONALLY HE MAKES A
BAD LOAN AND LOSES. WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE IF HE
LOSES IT?
IF YOU HAVE MONEY THAT IS IDLE AND YOU WANT
INTEREST ON IT, WE WILL TAKE IT AND KEEP IT FOR YOU
AND PAY WOU FIVE PER CENT. INTEREST ON IT.
YOURS FOR SERVICE AND SAFETY,
J. J. RAGAN, CASHIER.
J. W. LINDSEY, President. GEO. H. CARSWELL, Vice Pres.
IRA B. STINSON, J. R. HUDSON and
I. F. BILLUE, C. M. HITCHCOCK,
W. H. PARKER,
Directors.
IRWINTON BANK
IRWINTON, GEORGIA.
I “LOOICOuT
I FOR. THE
fl I — CART” j
■
DO YOU know of anyone
who is old enough to
m read, who has not seen that
sign at a railroad crossing?
H If everyone has seen it at some
time or other, then why doesn't
i!R the railroad let the sign rot
away ? Why does the railroad
|| company continue to keep
m those signs at every crossing ?
H Maybe you think, Mr. Merchant,
H “Most everybody knows my
lil store, I don't have to advertise.”
| Your store and your goods need
more advertising than the rail
roads need do to warn people
to “Look Out for the Cara.”
Nothing is ever completed in the
advertising world.
The Department Stores are a
very good example —l<ey are
continually advertising—and
they are continually doing a
| good business.
If it pays to run a few ads 'round
i about Christmas time, it cer-
|B tainiy will pay you to run ad-
3 vertisements about all the time.
JL . It's hut business, that’s all, to
ADVERTISE in
^WxTHIS PAPER
. -- .■ •*
z “i “V' •
I will be in Irwinton
on Monday and Tues
day, in Gordon on Wed
nesday and Thursday,
in Toomsboro on Friday
and Saturday of each
week, for the purpose
of doing Dental work.
First-class work at rea
sonable prices. All
work guaranteed.
DR. M. T. GODWIN,
Toomsboro, Ga.
_ ; I
Go '• ”
After
Business
•
In a business way —the
advertising way. An ad
in this paper offers the
maximum service at the
minimum cost. It
reaches the people of
the town and vicinity
you want to reach.
Try It—
