Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 February 1913 — The Women's Candidate [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Women's Candidate

Br BYRON WILLIAMS

BYNOPBIB. In a spirit of fun Mayor Bedight, a Summer visitor. Is chased through the woods by ten laughing girls, one of whom he catches and kisses. The girls form themselves Into a court and sentence him to do the bidding of one of their number each day for ten days. A legislative measure opposing woman suffrage, which dropped from the mayor’s pocket, is used to compel him to obey the mandates of the girls. His first day of service is with May Andrews, who takes him fishing. They are threatened by the sheriff with arrest. Miss Vlning sees what she considers a clandestine meeting between one of the girls and the mayor. The next day he goes driving with Mabel Arney. They meet with an accident, are arrested and locked up. but escape. The mayor returns to the hotel, finds the sheriff waiting for him. and takes refuge in the room of Bess Winters. He plans to get possession of the Incriminating bill. With Harriet Brooks the mayor goes to investigate an Indian mound. They are caught In a thunder storm. Returning late, he has rather a stormy interview with "Judge** Vinmg, who seeks to find out who returned to the ‘ hotel with him. Thursday was Mayor Bedlght’s day of attendance upon Margaret Farnsworth. Bhe decoys him into a cabin in the woods, and he is made a prisoner by the game warden. He is later released by one of the girls. He turns the tables on the game warden and makes that gentleman and his party prisoners. After breakfast he goes on the lake with Molly McConnell. » *

CHAPTER X.—Continued. ‘ “Your diplomacy is admirable,” he congratulated, passing her the coffee pot. Lunch over, Bedight packed the cooking outfit and replaced it in the boat. The sky was smoky in the weßt, smoky with heat that generated a strange restlessness among the quivering trees, while the air was surcharged with T poinentous quietude that presaged a clash of elemental fury. A black cloud stood upon the rim of the lake and caused a look of concern in Bedight’s eyes. A glance In Miss McConnell's direction showed the girl absorbed in her work. The mayor picked up a. magazine and stretched himself upon the sward beneeth a huge yellow birch. He was attracted from his story a half hour later by a shadow across the sun. Hurriedly springing to his feet, he scanned the sky. A mass of black with livid green patches and scurrying forerunners of white froth lay like a monstrous curtain across the west, through which shot veins of gold like roots of mammoth trees. A deep rumble, bass in its intonation, rolled across the sky, warning the creatures of the earth that soon their master would be abroad in the land to wreck and destroy. The woman, too, aware of the danger, sat gazing apprehensively at the disturbed sky. “Oh, Mr. Bedight," she cried, with the veriest trifle of anxiety in her voice, “we must be going. The sky looks like a storm.” The mayor came over to Miss McConnell and, standing beside her, gazed analytically into the west. “I think we will be safer here,” he advised, quietly. "The storm will break before we can reach the Inn." “But we cannot stay in this ruined hut. It leaks and the doors are gone,” objected Miss McConnell. “Come on, let’s be off.” The man hesitated. “Don’t you think it wiser to remain here until the storm is over? We are a long ways from Squirrel Inn,” counseled the mayor. “But the wind will kick up the lakes until we can’t get across for hours,” cried the woman nervously. * “Sometimes," said Bedight, looking squarely at her, “a man is not as dangerous after dark as a wind storm by day.” "Nonsense!” exclaimed Miss McConnell. “Where’s your sporting blood. Let's make a try for it.” The mayor turned and walked down to the boat. The girl followed and got aboard. He rolled up the sleeves of his light shirt and took the oars. As he did so, a drop of rain fell into the boat. * "Really, Miss McConnell,” he protested, “this is unwise. You will not only get a good wetting but there is grave danger of •” “I am neither sdgar nor a coward." she said curtly. “Go ahead.” Bedight fell to his oars but his inspection of the sky over the girl’s bead as she faced him was far from reassuring. The clouds had taken more definite form and in their center, occupying the front of the great of the sky, clung a balloon-like pi ass of twisting matter. Bedight locked at the girl apprehensively, as si* sat In the stern of the boat, taking the splashing drops of rain like a Spartan. -f v - • f - r 1 —r “Miss McConnell, we are going to hPve a bad storm presently. Don't you She turned her head. An exclama.

tlon of surprise broke from her Ups. "If you think best. Mr. Bedight. I am afraid 1 have been foolhardy—-but I’m still satisfied to go on If you are,” proudly. - _ A terrific clap of thunder directly overhead, coupled with a roar In the west, caused Bedight to. hesitate. Instead of turning the boat, he headed for the shore. Behind them the storm was rushing with ten league wings and the waves leaped into an action that set the boat tossing like a speck upon a boiling pot. The day became as dark as night, save for the lights ning flashes. Ih a moment the storm broke. Amid the crash of rending trees, the demoniacal shriekings of the wind, the terror of the lightning, the boat sped onward along the shore, one oar gone, the other useless in such a sea, ■ \ In the main channel no craft could have lived, -but along the shore down which the two raced before the wind, the shell flew on the wings of the tempest. White but brave, frightened but ifi full control of her nerves, the girl clung to the boat. Straight toward the narrow neck of Goose lake, the craft bore like a wind-whipped iceboat under a gale. The mayor gritted his teeth. Once outside the smaller lake the course of the craft would be directly across the larger body of water.' Ho studied the girl opposite. Did she realize the danger? “Mr, Bedight,” she spoke regretfully, with an effort at bravery. “I—ls we go through Into Sylvan lake I—l’m sorry I didn’t take your advice. It won’t help much now to know that I’ve repented of my decision —but I —” The mayoi% Interrupted, shouting against the wind: - : " Tr think we’ll avoid It, and surely tills must pass quickly.” Her answer was lost In the musketry and deluge that followed. The boat, half filled with water, lurched perilously, rolled like a cedar log and turned turtle! Bedight felt himself carried forward with terrible speed and deposited upon the shore. He shook the water from his eyes. Beside him on the sand lay the girl, and a rod down the shore the boat hung upon the shingle. She opened her eyes to the sound of his voice and the pressure of his hand upon her heart. Coughing, she sat up on the beach and rubbed the sand from her fa“ce and hands. . Her clothes hung closely upon her, showing the outlines of her tody. The rain still fell In torrents and ran down their necks in tiny rivulets. “Oh!” she gasped, when her senses marshaled themselves from the bewilder ment.’T’velogt my sketch?”" The mayor laughed. “If you had been a trifle less fortunate, you might not be worrying about that now—although I’m willing to admit you’d make a swell mermaid.” The storm was raging off In the east, the wind where they stood had ceased cracking its lungs, but a heavy sea was running on the lake and both oars were gone. Bedight looked about for shelter. Mounting the shore’s bluff, he saw, off to the north, a hut still standing, evidently some fisherman’s shanty. He beckoned the girl, who came up laughing. “If I look as funny as you do with your clothes all stlckißg- to you, the little birds will be In paroxysms tomorrow!” laughed the bedraggled woman, saucily, gazing brazenly at the man. ’“Well,” replied Bedight, returning the stare, “your hair is down, your shirtwaist is out at the back, your skirt is showing your limbs and your shoes squaßh when you walk. Otherwise you are dressed for one of Mine Host’s summer feeds or evening hops —that is, dress appropriate for Squirrel Inn when there are no men to ensnare and all dancing parties are feminine.” “You’re horrid!” she scowled. “What are we going' to do?” "There’s a hut over there. If there’s

any part of It that will burn, we will preserve the remainder and use It as 'a Garden of Eden supplied by a kind providence." The woman hesitated. The Garden of Eden stuff in the morning was not then so pregnant with possibilities. Bedtght set off ahead, apparently oblivious to her doubt. Miss McConnell’s face was clouded. What else was there, to do? They were on the opposite side of the turbulent lake from the inn, with an oarless, shattered, boat. The country abput was rough and unsheltered?

The bight was'upon them and the way to the Inn around Sylvan lake was too far for her to attempt walking it in the night, along, the rough trails and through the mud-covered roads. Bedight met her at the door, * “Welcome, Eve,” he said, teasingly. “Eden Isn’t such a bad place, after all. There’s a stove and some flour aild salt here, also matches, a dishpan, three) chairs and a bunk. I’m going to see if the lake has yielded up our coffee pot and some coffee.” *TH go.” said Miss McConnell, soberly. "You start the fire and put the kettle on.” She went out abstractedly and walked down to the beach. What should she do? Was she sure of this man who seemed a gentleman, or would she need protection from her protector? If she had been more guarded In her bantering conversation of the morning, if she had not been quite so natural and unconventional. She looked up and down the beach hurriedly as * though she would run away, a sudden passion for flight coming over her. But where could she go? And there were snakes and bears in the Woods! What should she do? Bedight found her sitting upon the edge of the boat. She started as he drew near and took on a new reserve. He looked at her and dropped his joking mood. "Here is the coffee,” he said, producing a sodden mass, “but the pot must have followed the cyclone. Shall we go back?” She looked up like a frightened child with that pleading look we see in the eyes l of a cornered rabbit. "Come," he said, kindly, “the pot boils and you will be needed soon to pour the coffee.” She arose without a word and followed him into the shack. “And now,” he said, “I am going away for an hour. There is plenty of wood here Take off your wet clothes and dry them. When you have

finished, call from the door. I will be on the beach. Do not be afraid. I will not be out of hearing.” “Thank you,” she replied, and there waß a more cheerful intonation in her voice. Bedight sat upon a log and watched the white-caps whip themselves along the shore. The sky was clear and the moon came out from its nest behind the wood and glowed like a ball of crimson ochre. For an hour he sat thus, when he heard a step upon the gravel behind him. “The coffee is ready, Mr. Bedight. If you are as hungry as I, we shall do ample justice to saleratus biscuits and coffee.” ' . They sat down by the light of an oil lamp that contained two inches of kerosene. “Oh, If Pauline could only see us now,” laughed Miss McConnell —or Mine Host—“but it’s good, anyhow, if you’re hungry enough!” “Add to all your other charms,” said Bedight, lightly, “the quality of being a good cook!” The girl's face grew serious again. Bedight noted the varying shades, but paid no outward heed. The rough fare and the abominable coffee were palatable and both felt better after eating. They sat quietly after the meal, the oil burning lower and lower in the lamp. Outside 'a wolf barked and In the margin of the wood a night bird flew by with a raucous cry. “And now,” said the mayor, Jovially, “It Is the curfew hour in Eden. The last one in bed won’t have to blow out the light, for it is going out of its own accord.” He arose and, taking off his coat, rolled it into a pillow. “Lie down here and rest a while,” he said, gently. Bedight,” replied the girl, her flushed and her eyes turned away. \ The mayor arose and Xood before her. “Miss McConnell,” he spoke quietly, reassuringly, “I had a mother once. She was sweet and pure—and—and she died.” The mayor’s voice broke for the moment. “She—she taught me to respect womanhood. She taught me to be open and simple and sincere. The situation in which we find our selves U trying only as we make It so. Let us be sensible and direct. There is the bunk. Lie down and sleep, If you can. I shall stretch out upon the floor and try It myself. You need have no fear that ’’ “Forgive me," she cried, laying her hands upon his. “I have no fearnothing but explicit trust and confidence!” /‘Whkh Is the time, usually,” he said, with the old ring In his voice “that the apple gets bitten!** (TO BE CONTINUED.)

“Your Diplomacy is Admirable.”

Lucille Walters.