Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 February 1913 — MRS. SIMMS' GUEST [ARTICLE]

MRS. SIMMS' GUEST

Romance in City Girl’s Visit to Wild and Woolly Cowboys’ Camp. By LOUISE MERRIFIELD. “What’s her name again, Mis’ Simms?" . “Jessamine.” Mrs. Simms went on kneading dough placidly, just as if she didn’t know six separate and distinct male heads were looking into her two windows. Curly coughed and took a fresh start, urged to action by sundry surreptitious attacks oh his anatomy from the rear. Time was fieeting.and Jager’B Junction demanded ‘an explanation. “Why didn’t you tell us she was coming?” This merely as a mild reproof. “Didn’t want to stir you all up, boys,” smiled back Ma Simms. ‘‘Anyhow, she’s jußt here on a little visit to me.” “Relative?” \ “By marriage.” “Say, now, look here, Ma Simms,” Cimpy Lane tried arbitration. “We’ve always treated' you square, ain’t we? Here we are located on the raw edge of nothing, so to speak, and you the sple female within sixty miles. Ain’t we treated you like so many adoring and respectful sons for ten months?” “I’d like to see you try any other methods, Gimpy.” Ma Simms beamed at him pleasantly. “There’s no Credit at all to you f6r the way the place has settled down. I’ve labored over you, boys, like a mother, and I’ve fed you on wholesome food, but I'll not bring out Jessamine and introduce her to one of you, so you can .go your ways. She don't care to meet you, she says herself. She came out for rest and study.” I Curly suddenly vanished from sight, drawn backwards by the jealous and hasty actions of the two Dolans, whose view he obstructed. Immediately there rose a chorus of yells and shots such as only Jager’s Junction could produce on short notice in this enlightened hour of progress and prequent trains. Ma Simms tucked the edges of her last loaf under deftly, picked up the rolling pin, and sauntered forth. In the dust of the road lay one Dolan. Curly was perched astride th? younger one, his hair towsled like a frightened terrier, handing punches with short and swift exactitude. The We“er' MS tooX iif the tableau, and she pursed her lips. Overhead, in the one little window above the restaurant, Jessamine looked forth for diversion. Chin propped on her palms, she stared down at the boys, serene and amused. She was cool and sweet and clean. Her fair hair was braided and wound in close, soft bands about her head. Her eyes were long and Bleepy.most provocative eyes, and her nose was a bit tiptilted like the corners of her mouth. “Go right inside, Jessamine,” said Mrs. Simms, firmly. Jessamine met Curly’s upturned glance with interest. "They didn’t hit me, Aunt Roxy," she said Bweetly. Hit her? Curly sprang up, and plucked his hat off the earth where the Dolans had danced on it. He bowed like a courtier to the Juliet at the upper window. He begged her pardon brilliantly for the idiotic and lawless practices which such coyotes as the Dolans forced upon a peaceful and progressive community. “That's all right,” said Jessamine. “I’m coming right down.” "You’d better stay there, Jessamine,” Ma Simms insisted, seeing the mounting intention in Curly’s eyes. “The boys are harmless and don’t mean a. thing. I’ve told them you wanted to be quiet and study.” “It had lots of effect,” laughed Jessamine. And then she did a rash and feminine trick. She deliberately dropped her handkerchief from the windone a crumpled square of linen, with an embroidered “J” in one corner. Gimpy got it, being nearest, and defended his possession with a new short range automatic that even Curly thought well of. Gimpy’s pony stood near, bridle hanging while It munched the clover around Ma Simm’s dooryard. And war started in camp at that Identical moment. Gimpy was in the saddle and racing for the foothills before the rest knew his intent. The rest followed —all save Curly, whose pony was grazing in the creek pasture below the blacksmith shop, waiting his turn to be shod. When the rest of the crowd returned, perspiring and dusty from a ninemile chase, but with, the handkerchief preserved, and Glmpy’s apology forthcoming, they found Curly and Jessamine hunting pink and white lady slippers down where Curly swore he’d seen some growlog. Ma Simms received the handkerchief and the apology with a sniff and sent them ail on their way, but Curly lingered until moon rtifti, and he carried back with him the memory of her voice, and the trick of those sleepy long lashed eyes that had a way of opening suddenly very wide, like an interested child. After that he rode down to the junction every night while the rest of the K-T outfit stayed out at the ranch. Some nights Gimpy rode in too, and brought his violin. Jessamine said she loved music. Curly sat on the doorstep to the lean-to, listening to the two of them, Gimpy playing, and Jessamine singing. He hated Gimpy those nights, and before Jessamine (had arrived the two had been close

pals. Sometimes qow as he rode, knowing Gimpy’s pony followed, he almost Wished he ha<} the nerve to face about, and dare him to a straight fight the way men used to settle snch things. Then he would wonder whether she loved Gimpy, and how he could face her supposing he were to put a, billet through him. £o he took the straight path and rode down one night early. Gimpy was there before-him. He saw him sitting beside her on'the rough wooden bench under the eucalyptus tree. He saw that Gimpy was agitated. He leaned forward and tried to take her bauds, but she pulled them away, and then Gimpy made a quick dash for her, and she laughed. Curly heard her laugh. He felt’ sbrry for Gimpy. Even if she didn’t want him, it wasn’t kind tcT laugh. He knew a fellow like Gimpy was too good to laugh at. He turned and rode the other way a couple of miles, to make sure the game was an open one. When he came back Gimpy was gone. And she looked so pretty and tender In the moonlight that Curly forgot the other man. “I don’t suppose you’d care for a fellow like me, Jess,” he told her, standing with his back to the wall, head up, eyes pleading. “But I thought maybe von dld T from the way you looked at me, and the way we’d talked, don’t you know? It Isn’t much of a life out here for a girl, but my (Jad’s Bheriff down in Colorado, and he’s made good, and going to run for county treasurer, and I can go back there any time, and step into the heir apparent’s shoes. And mother’d love you like forty.” “But, you silly boy,” said Jessamine, laughing. “I’m not a bit in love with anybody here. I just enjoyed having you boys come down and sing and play for me. I’m going back home next week, back to Chicago, and I’m going to be married. I hope you won’t mind. I’m so sorry, you know.” “Mind?” Curly stared at her fixedly, at her lovely eyes and soft satinsmooth hair, and all the rare girl grace of her, and his heart hardened. “I didn’t know you were In earnest, Curly—” she began. “Yes, you did. too," said Curly, firmly. “And you knew Gimpy was, too. You just led us on, and made fools of the two of us. ’ And we used to be pals, too. Why, say, I’d almost have killed Gimpy for you. And you say you didn’t know I was In earnest.” He stopped suddenly. Ma Simms stood in the doorway, arms akimbo, eyes keen and bright. “Now, what’s this nonsense, Jessamine?” she demanded. “Which one did you take?” , ■ jessaintorcoveferße'rfaeewithtef arms, and cried silently. Curly was fumbling with his saddly straps. “She’s engaged to somebody in Chicago,” he said, bitterly. ' “She threw both of us boys down.” “She ain’t engaged to anybody, Curly,” retorted Ma Simms flatly. “She's ju,st told you that because she’s afraid you and Gimpy will get into a shooting scrape over her. Jessamine, you look Curly* in the face and tell him the truth, or I shall myself.” You’ll fight and get hurt,” faltered Jessamine, and in her voice Curly caught a new tremulous note that sent the blood leaping in his veins. He swung around on her, and pulled her arms down. “Jess, say you wouldn’t care, would you?” And somehow her arms went close around his neck, and Ma Simms went back Into the house and shut the door. (Copyright, 1913,, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)