Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 278, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 November 1912 — RACE FOR A WIFE [ARTICLE]

RACE FOR A WIFE

The Best Man Won Despite the Great Odds Against Him.

By HARMONY WELLER.

Blossom looked down, suddenly very much abashed. The question lurking in the masculine eyes must bd answered and there were three sets of eyes, all adoring and likewise all impatient. Dick gazed fondly at the little brown hand that he longed to possess as his own; Harry’s eyes were riveted on the misty line of blue that showed beneath her lashes and Tom absorbed the whole perfect girl in his glance, but mostly he watched the crimson stain of her lips which curled now and again with a troubled smile. She looked up and her eyes lin-' gered on Tom, on Dick and on Harry. Each man watched with trepidation the dimple that played fitfully in the girl’s face. A half drawn breath escaped her lips. “You have all,” began in her Bweet voice, “honored me —by loving me.” The men glowered, each at the other two. She continued a trifle nervously, “And In return—l love you —each one of you—with the same amout of loyalty. I think that I am not a ‘one man woman.’ I think I could be happy with any one of you—very happy,” she added. This polygamous speech had not the soothing effect that the girl had hoped for. The masculine element glowered with greater force but made no attempt to break the line o£ thought that struggled behind the girl’s eyes. A touch of color fanned her cheeks; her eyes became darker. “I want to marry one of you. I long for the city! Life on this island has become irksome to me and I want to see the broader sphere of life. Living here, I have been denied so many pleasures. Until this summer I had not realized a half of what life holds. You have each, in your grand big way, made the last three months a Paradise to me. I had never seen an airship until the day Harry swept down through the air in his huge machine. I had never been in a motor until Dick came whizzing across that old bridge. Good old fleet-footed Bess, whom Tom has taught me *to ride, has filled-me with —well—Joy, and you have all three just spoiled me with your attentions." Negative shakes from three heads condemned her last words.

“Yes, you have,” she contradicted quickly. Blossom drew a deep, troubled sigh. “And now—l have to decide whether I would like to marry a birdman and fly with him, a motorist and joy-ride with him or an equestrian and gallop through life with him! It is a vexing question." She raised appealing eyeß to each man in turn. The look compelled an answer.

"The latter is of course the most enjoyable,” said Tom. “The former is more exhilarating,” said Harry. “The middle path is always the safest,” said Dick. Blossom laughed and jumped quickly to-her feet and motioned the men to remain.

"I am going to bring out a Jug of cider and some fresh doughnuts. While you three are making them disappear I shall walk once around the island. When I return it will be to tell you whether I motor, gallop or fly through life.” With another rippling laugh she was off. When she had gone a second time, leaving in her place a tray of fresh doughnuts and cider, Tom, Dick and Harry glowered darkly one upon the other. Then, because they were all of fine mold, an arm shot out from each brawny shoulder. ’To the best man—may he win!” they toasted in one breath. Blossom tripped along with light feet. She went flrßt along the level Btretch of sand upon which a great airship spread its wings in rest; Bhe looked tenderly at it. She passed the old bridge, the only connection between the island and the mainland; a gray racing motor lay silent. Blossom’s eyes caressed it. Still farther on, under the great spreading elm, Brown Bess grazed. The mare whim nied at sight of the slim figure in the pink sunbonnet and Blossom fondled the sleek neck and let fall a light kiss on the mare’s velvety nose. She walked on with knitted brow. Half way around the small island she stopped short. The idea had come. Excitement lent speed to her return. Blossom sank down in a little flutter of grace beside Tom, Dick and Harry. She began without preamble. “I will mai4*y—" she paused. “ —The man who first reaches me with a parson and a license!” The girl gasped. She was not prepared for the lightning effect of her words on her three admirer*. Had she shot them simultaneously out of a triple-barreled cannon they could not have started with such precision and speed. Her grip on her breath relaxed and she looked after the flying figures wondering at the hidden force of her words. A little unsteady laugh fluttered from her lips. She closed her eyes and tried to still the beating of her heart. In this position of expectancy Blossom remained until x>me time later, when a multitude of sou-da broke upon her ears. Her eyes traveled to the mainland -whence the noises came. First, a cloud of black dust like* the funnelshaped mass that precedes a summer cyclone and out of it arose the honk, honk and whirr of Dick's green racing

car. Second, her eye caught sight of the great winged thing hovering over the tree tops, and the sound of its engines floating down to her like the humming of a million bees. Blossom held her breath. A fearful sinking of the heart took possession of her when she discovered Brown Bess and her rider were nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, what if my foolish dare has brought them to grief!” She was scarcely able to stand as she scanned the horizon line. “Ah!” a sigh of relief escaped her. They were there, far in the rear, like a speck of black against,the blue, but dashing toward the inlet for dear life. Nearer and nearer the three men came. Inch by inch the birdman drew ahead! He was just over the Water’s edge! The motorist dashed to the bridge and good old Brown Bess leaped on at the same moment Blossom, no longer having control of herself, beat the ground with her foot and cried excitedly first to one and then the other.

Suddenly her blood seemed to stop in its oourse. There was a deafening crash, a splintering of wood and a fearful splash. The girl, terrorstricken, was afraid to look. But she summoned her courage. The unexpected had happened. The old bridge, unable to stand the strain of a motor courtship, had given way and a thin line of water separated it from the shore. A terrific jerk of the brake threw Dick and his aged member of the clergy sprawling on the bridge. Brown Bess, her master and a young curate, were thrown into panic. Suddenly a dull roar rent the air. Blossom screamed.

In the topmost branches of the old elm tree the airship had come to grief and Harry, a minister and the huge machine were struggling with Fate. She stole a glance into the elm tree. The reverend gentleman was safely wedged in a supporting branch while Harry was trying frantically to aid that dignified person into speedy descent from the tree. It looked to the girl as if she would one day be a birdman’s wife. She sighed. Hastily her glance swept in the scene on the bridge. Dick was storming violently both at his machine, which was half in and half out of the water, and in a milder but none the less urgent manner at the old curate, who was slowly collecting himself. “Can’t you swim?” Blossom blushed at Dick’s tone toward the whitehaired, minister.

Above the beating of her heart It was not possible to hear Tom’s voice, but his words had been effective. She saw the wiry young curate fling off his clerical coat and hat and make a neat dive into the water. After that Tom commanded Brown Bess, and she, too, with a tremendous splash went into the water. Tom followed suit Out on the bridge Dick raged Inwardly and outwardly. -Up in the tree top Harry fumed at the impotent moment.

Yet in the heart of each defeated man was a something that clamored for expression. And, as Brown Bess reached the shore and with steady muscles drew herself on to a level beach a cheer went out from each heart.

The mare stood for a moment dripping; then, as the slim figure in the pink sunbonnet made an involuntary movement toward her, she whinnied a glad welcome. It seemed almost as if the animal’s intelligence had told her that she had won a very dear prize for her master. Blossom found, when she reached the mare’s side, that she was trembling. The girl did not realize until her arms were about Brown Bess' neck that she could not have faced any other outcome from the race. Tom and the young curate splashed onto the beach then, and in the new shyness that had come over Blossom she could only hide her flushed cheek on dripping Bess.

The parson went hastily to Blossom. “Allow me to congratulate you," he said, smiling broadly and giving her a wet but genial handshake. “This is another case of the best man to win despite all odds against him.” “I consider my victory a good object lesson, parson,” put in Tom, bringing himself alongside his sweetheart. “You see my desire was so strong and my object so desirable," he sent a swift, tender glance into Blossom’s eyes, “that no new inventions of mankind could cope with the God-given power of good old Bess; nothing could take you from me,” he added, as he handed Blossom a soaked license. ' (Copyright, ISti2, by the McClure News- . ■ * paper Syndicate.)