Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 157, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 July 1912 — Caxton, Life Guard [ARTICLE]

Caxton, Life Guard

By June Gahan

"Why don’t you call her If you want her?” Wally asked, digging a fresh tunnel in the wet sand where the life guard’s heel had smashed through. “Don’t call Miss Ashton. Call her first name.”* Caxton smiled'moodily down at the little chubby figure lying flat on the sand. “I don’t know her first name, Wally.” - “First name’s Dorothy. That’s what mother calls her. Kenneth does, too, when she isn’t around.” “Who’s Kenneth?” “My big brother. Maybe she’s gone with him some place. This was an afterthought. Wally sat up to consider it, and swept the curving shore line with his calm glance. Back of the pine fringe above the beach the great hotel nestled between tall bluffs. Stretching from it like arms were shore front cottages a mile ineach direction. It was late afternoon. The air' seemed heavy and tense. The sea lay with hardly a ripple, dull gray, with long saffron high lights from the low storm clouds. “You had better run up to the cottage, - kiddie,” Caxton advised. “There’s a thunder storm on its way.” —fT-doa’t want to yet," coaxed Wally, “I’ve got to finish this roller coaster. If there’s a storm will you have to swim after any people?” “If there are any foolish enough to stay out,” Caxton returned. Wally stared up at the tell, tanned figure in the red and gray swimming suit. There was no one else at the beach that summer he admired so intensely as the life guard. Miss Ashton liked him, too. They had talked it over between them often, and agreed that he was a real hero, and every morning Wally would watch for him to come along the long stretch of beautiful firm silvery -sand on his coast patrol duty. One morning he had waded in too far after stray shells and strands of sea weed. Caxton came on a run and gripped the drenched little figure securely and bore it back to its governess. A white faced, girlish governess she was, too. Glad in white from toe to throat, she had run down into the water after her charge. Mid Wally had sobbed so, there had been no chance then to talk, put he had remembered her, and watched every morning for the two. She was Miss Ashton, governess to Walter Devereux’s boy. That much he found oat easily. The Devereux cottage was most Imposing. Wally was the youngest hope, and tail Kenneth, fresh home from his last college year, was the eldest And the cottage was to be closed in two days, Wally had told them, when the family left for a Canadian trip. That meant she would go out of his life forever.

He bad tried to get a chance to ■peak to her alone for the past three days, but young Devereux was her shadow. And now, suddenly, while he was giving up his last hope, she came hurrying down the path from the bluff. “We forgot the camera, and left It way up on the hllL I had to go hack after it,” she told him. "We thought you had run away with Kenneth," Wally informed her gravely. “Kenneth is out on the hay, dear, in his knockabout” “He’d better come in then,” Carton checked himself. If the cub was idiotic enough to venture out under such a gale what was it to him? 'He bent over her and spoke half roughly. “Can’t you send the boy in and give me half a chance?” “For whatr “To tell you what I want to. It’s my last chance. Here, Wally, listen. If you’ll run up to the cottage, and stay there on the veranda until Miss Ashton comes. I’ll make you a life boat” • “With life savers all sitting in it, rowing?” “Run along, dear, I won't be long,” Dorothy whispered. She watched the little figure stalk slowly up the broadwalk to the cottage, and turned her fact up to Caxton. “Now, what is it?” - • Caxton’s eyes were half closed. He saw thi knockabout half way down the little bay, its two sails sagging in the hot calm. The squall might cose beating up any minute. He turned to the girL “Nothing much after all,” he said bitterly. “I thought I had a great deal to tell you, but I hardly think it is worth while. Not if Devereux's after you.” . { Her clear, gray eyes met his, that fairly, defiantly. / : “Ton have .a splendid opinion of my Judgment, haven’t you?” v He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Life’s life* Fm the volunteer coast guard here this year. Devereux's the best batch in the summer crowd. There isn’t much choice, is The color rose hotly is her face. ”1 wonder if you imaging you are snaking love to me?” she said very

slowly. “You may be an excellent ate guard, Mr. Caxton, but you do not-know the vsrj first rules of this other game. When one truly loves, be first places all trust and honor In the keeping of the one he loves. I think you ate a terrible coward at this.” ~ v- * —“Dorothy''V”"* —) —r-~—-'-—t-“How did you know that was my name?” haughtily. -f - “Wally told me so. It is a darling name, too. Dorothy, will you——” >..£ The words were drowned In the rush of wind and swirl of sand that swept about them In a wild midsummer fury. He held her close fit his arms, as the first patter of rain fell, and the lightning gashed great glittering rente in the low-hanging sulphurous clouds. “I must go to Wally!" claimed. “Let me go. I can make my way alone. Please —please let me go!’V “I won’t I’ll carry you up to the cottage.” . f ‘Oh, but look there!” He swung about as she pointed. Through the darkening gloom, he sufr the knockabout had turned turtle. Devereux was a good swimmer, he knew, would be play to him to beat it In on those waves, hut there was no sign of 'him. Dorothy’s hand had clasped his shoulder in a quick grip of dread. The wind whipped her fair hair about her face, and she shrank close to him.

“Kenneth has gone down,” she cried. “Why don’t you do something? Why on earth do you wait here with me?” He smiled down at her grimly. *lll get him, dear,” he promised. The next instant she stood there alone*, barely able to keep her footing against the full fury of the gale that beat down at her from the sea. Caxton was racing full tilt down the landing pier, she saw. The knockabout was drifting In with every wave, nearer and nearer. There was no sign of Devereux. Somehow, she made her way up to the cottage. Mil mother was there, kneeling by the veranda railing, her arms around, Wally, her face hidden on his curls. Already the alarm had spread, and people Were running down from the hotel and the cottages. She heard some one say they were putting the lifeboat out after both of them. It seemed a lifetime to Dorothy, standing beside the sobbing, halffainting mother, soothing her, and quieting Wally. It was too dark to see a hundred yards from the cottage. The air seemed filled with hurtling limbs of trees, and leaves. Above the roar of the wind she could catch the shoutß of the men, and finally she knew they were bringing back the two, Devereux and Caxton, the life guard. One was unconscious, they said. “And I sent him,” she told herself over and over. Then, suddenly, leading the line of men, there tramped up the broad steps Devereux, drenched to the skin in his white yachting suit, and thinking only of his mother. “I’d have gone under if Caxton hadn’t gripped me," he told them. “When she turned turtle I was caught in the rigging and couldn't free myself. He dived under and set me free, and was struck on the head in rising. Then I brought him in until the boat met ns.” Dorothy’s eyes were closed as she listened. And she had called him a coward!

That evening after Wally had slipped away to dreamland, she stole down the stairs and out into the stillness of the night It was beautifully peaceful and fresh after the storm, The full moon rode high above scattered shreds of clouds, and the sea broke in long, low waves on the beach below. Caxton and Devereux smoked together in the low steamer chairs in one comer of the veranda. Devereux rose at her approach. “Bob’s been telling me a lot of things, Miss Ashton,” he said simply, extending his hand to her. “Fm sorry I’ve been such a cub as to even hope I stood any show. He’s a great old boy. We two were mates at college. He was the greatest captain New London ever saw at the races, the finest chap that ever bossed a crew. lam just going up to mother. JQood night" He leaned over Caxton’s shoulder and added: “And good luck.”

Dorothy was silent His hand reached toward her and she slipped her own into Its grasp. “But I called you a coward.” He kissed her more than once before he answered. -■ ~ “Yon called me a coward —at this,” he corrected. “As I was about to say when the Infernal storm broke, will you marry me, Dorothy T’ / < - V* 4