Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 208, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 September 1913 — STRENUOUS WOOING [ARTICLE]

STRENUOUS WOOING

But With the Assistance of Capsized Boat He Won the Gilt By LOUIS OLNEY. When he called for, Patricia something in her face told her that her time of reckoning had come. Vane Harris was the sort that will be dangled just about so long, but no longer, and she knew that even for her she carried matters with a high hand. She carefully began by extolling the perfectly''worthy weather. Patricia had instincts. - “The lake is lovely, isn’t it?” she remarked as they strolled to the little dock, “smooth and clear, and it’s not too warm. A canoe is just -right today.” She looked at him sidewise — his dark Ace was a bit grim, but he smiled. He knew that Lawrence Patterson, the only rival he really feared, had Just returned from the west and was at this moment searching for Patricia. "Yes,” he conceded, the “canoe, the lake, the day—and you—seemed the right combination. That’s why I wickedly cut! commuting to the office and came for you. It’s luck tp have found you.” She also gave a little grin. She had come partly to suit herself, partly because she had lately tormented him as far as she dared, but mostly to discipline. Ted Barnard who was becoming too importunate and whom she had left on the veranda unconsoled by her younger sister. “We must be back early,” she Informed him, “I am due at Mrs. Forbes for luncheon. There Is a new man—she won’t say who. J am supposed to make things interesting for the newcomer." . ' Vane silently helped her to her Beatjand then knelt facing her, Indian fashion, with his one paddle. He was tall and well-knit, bareheaded with the wind blowing his heavy, dark hair. He looked fondly at Patricia, in her cream flannels, her. hair a glory in the morning sun. . * “I guess you know how to make things interesting for a man—when you choose," he answered, but without mhilice. “I should know that”

“What do you mean?” she queried, r “ ‘Experience teaches,’ ” he said, at length, “that Miss Patricia Carey somehow makes a man aware of her presence. When are you going to marry me?” He demanded abruptly. He had never before asked her outright. Now his tone didn’t suit her. "I don’t fancy the threat In your voice. I haven’t said that I would marry you at all.” She trailed one hand in the water, carefully looking aw&y from him. All at once he stopped paddling. / “The threat,” he spoke drily, “is intentional. Yon have trailed me, a more or less willing victim, for a year now. At first I was not sure that I—wanted you.” She gasped at his impudent frankness. "The reason why I thought I might not want you was that you have never lived, in a real home. When I marry I want a woman who will make a real home. I can givd her everything a man can give toward making one. I mean that your people died and left you and, you, poor little thing, you have been passed about from aunt to aunt and badly spoiled. Don’t be angry—just hear me Out. But I began to see that your instincts are true and fine and right, and that all you needed was a chance. You are very domestic, but you don’t know It yet.” “Thank you,’ she Interrupted, her eyes wide with angry astonishment, and an angrier consciousness that he was speaking truth. He went quietly ahead with his personal recording of fact. . “I decided that in San Francisco after I had known ybu three months. For the six, months thereafter, by (letter whdh not In person, I endeavored to make you love me. I came to my ..own conclusions, which were—that you either loved me or you didn’t, and that in either case you were a perfectly skilful coquette. So the last months I have rather restedon my oars t§ see how far'you would lead on Ted and a half dozen others none of whom you care a rap for!” ■ “In-deed!” She ejaculated, while he took the paddle again and turned the boat so that the sun would be out of his eyes and full In hers, not a gallant proceeding, but useful in his study of her eloquent little countenance. "You are quite- clairvoyant.” “Only—observant—and reflective, Patricia. No other man—except Lawrence Patterson —has really troubled me for a moment. Do you care for him?” She looked her scorn of the question. "When he asks me that, I shall do as I like about answering. As for you—l don’t think I care much about this trip with you. I didn’t come out to be bullied. You may take me back. Aunt Margaret'is quite right—l should be more careful and not go about unchaperoued. Bhe will be back in a few days now—" “She will be back tomorrow,” he said quietly. "I was talking with Miss Clayton this morning—you know the society editor on the Tribune? She gave me the glad news. Don’t know how she knew. Blit, to get down to business, when are ypp going to marry me? I withdraw the question about Patterson. It Is too late now for you to—consider him.” “Vane Ketterling Harris; you-can begin paddling hack for the #«f! You must be Insane! What \alls you?” "I’m not going to paddle back—and

I shall recite a little history for your benefit Far nine months, either la person, or by letter, I have kept after you, and you have encouraged me beautifully without in words commit* ting yourself. You have gone everywhere with me, I have carried you over rough places, literally as well figuratively. Yqu have, on rare occasions, let me kiss you. You have, with your sweetness and dearness, coaxed the heart out of me. It is in your keeping, and I demand an accounting. I don’t know any way but this to get a positive answer. We are a long way 'from shore, the water Is deep, and you can’t swim, a fact of Which you should be ashamed, Bince I have offered to teach you. - You shouldn’t aHow yourself to be afraid of water—you know that." He turned and scanned the lake. “Now,” he went on, “we will have to have things ont with each other. You have never let me openly ask you to marry me. You have interrupted, fled, joked, tormented, all because you feared that being engaged would cut abort some of your flirtations. Which is perfectly true. My fiancee can’t coquette with every man In sight, she will have to behave." He put on his cap and* went to work again With the paddle, talking as he did bo. "Briefly, yon mary me or you don’t, and you decide now. Uncle Martin offers me a partnership in his Denver business, a sure thing and a moneymaker, and I am to let him know tonight wbat I will do. If I take it I shall leave immediately for Colorado. If I don’t, I shall go on with rqy present work, whicfi I like best. But your preference would ? decide me. This Is why It is up to you. What are you going to do With me?” She gave him a look of utter scorn. “Do you think you can—bully me?” she inquired. “Did you think this could make me—love you?” He smiled. "No —If I didn’t happen to know that you love me, If i didn’t know how you love to dangle and torment a man I would never have tried it. But you do love me—only you hate to give In and admit It, and I shall not take you hack to shore until you do —I have lunch in this box, and we stay here until'midnight—or momlnjA unless you—” Her blue eyes widened and flashed and" without a second’s,hesitation she gave a vicious little leap and overturned the qanoe In mid-lake.

Just as Vane Harris went over he had the presence of mind to give a mighty shout for help. Two men not far behind them came at their best speed. Vane had gone down and come up coolly, made a grab for Patricia and with her was holding to the overturned canoe, Lawrence Patterson and another man paddled alongside, but just as they began righting the overturned craft and had a safe hold on the girl, Vane gave a convulsel gasp, struggled, and suddenly sank like lead. He did not come up again. At first Patricia did not realize the truth, then she gave a little cry, and they pulled her to safety. There was some shouting for help and in a minute a half dozen boats, some swimmers, boys and men, were on the scene. There were directions, divings, fears —and finally the young mans’ limp body was fished up,hauled into a boat and hurried to the nearest shore. He was rubbed, water was emptied out of him, air was forced into him, he was blanketwrapped, manipulated. Patricia could not be coaxed or forced away. She stood by, ash-white hugging / about hefr dripping figure a big blue cloak. Finally Vane gavfc a deep, gasping breath, choked, breathed again—and opened his eyes. Patricia put her hands to her face and wept. Mrs. -Forbes led her away, bundled her Into her car, and took her home. She put her to bed and began mlnittering to her. The luncheon was forgotten. “You poor dear,” she comforted. "And on the very day your engagement Is announced. You naughty girl, to let your friends see It first In the Tribune! Of course we all knew yon would marry him —but I couldn’t believe my eyes thla morning, so I called up Miss Clayton. She said Vane himself had asked her to print the announcement. How lovely of your Aunt Margaret to be your sponsor." Patrlqia hid her face on the pillow.' So that was what he had done! He had heralded her consent before she had given it! Well—hadn’t she tormented, trailed—and finally nearly killed him? Suppose he had drowned? She shuddered. He should have things his own way. She kpew now what life might have been without him. She turned a tear-wet but happy face to her friend. “Mrs. Forbes, will you go and see bow—Vane Is? Tell him as soon as he is able—I —want him—to come. I want to see him.” The older woman bent over her a moment, and then tiptoed away to do her bidding. (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)