Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 July 1906 — WHEN MYRA FORGAVE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WHEN MYRA FORGAVE

By ROSE RAWSON

The Ice was in splendid condition, and carefully avoiding the people she knew in the crowd about the boat landing Myra struck out with long, powerful strokes for up the river. She was In no mood for company. She wanted to be alone and think things over. It is a serious thing when a girl gives back her first engagement ring and Informs the donor that shv never wants to see him again. That experience had come to Myra that afternoon. It had all been ridiculously foolish. Tom had scoffed at her for having joined the Browning club, declaring Browning to be a prise pussier and not a poet. She had taken offense, and they had had their first quarrel. She

had given back, his ring and he. had gone off in dudgeon, leaving her with the afternoon on her hands. They had planned to skate to Riverdale, five miles up the river; have supper there and skate back by moonlight. Now it was all spoiled and she must skate alone. She was fond of the ice, and the swift motion and the bracing air soon put her in It more pleasant frame of uilud. Perhaps she had been hasty in giving back the ring, but then it is not every day that one is elected the president of the literary club, and lie might at least have congratulated her upon her victory over Nettie Doran. She had been so engrossed with her thoughts that it was with surprise that she found she had entered the “cut,’’ more than two miles from the landing. Here the river ran between steep bluffs for three-quarters of a mile, and she shuddered a little as she glanced at the cliffs on either side. She never had noticed It before, but now they seemed so black and forbidding. She was still glancing up as her skate struck a bit of wood frozen into the ice, and with a cry she san it to the glassy surface. She struggled to her feet, but with another little moan she sank to one knee: she bad sprained her left ankle.

Several times she essayed to rise, but each time her ankle hurt her r> >re, and finally she desisted and crept on hands and knees to the bank. Perb ips some of the others would take It into their heads to skate np and they would give her help. If no one came she would try to creep back after she had rested. But after an hour she gave up hope of help coining. She was so numb she could scarcely move. She began to cry softly. If she could not get to the lower end of the cut, where she might attract attention of some one on shore, she might freeze to death. With infinite labor she crawled a few feet, but she had to give up and sit down again. Perhaps they might miss her at the landing and remember that she had gone up the river. They would send out a searching party for her. It might be an hour or more before she could hope for help, but the idea brought her some comfort, though It did not check the flow of tears. Then her quick ear caught the welcome sound of the ring of steel on the bard ice and she tried to struggle to her feet.

Around the bond above Tom Runyon came with powerful strokes. He was looking straight ahead, and In the dusk he passed her. Before she could gain the courage to call to him he stopped suddenly and turned. In a flash he was at her side, kneeling before her. “What’s the matter, dear?” he asked. “Are you hurt?’’ “I’ve sprained my ankle,” she sobbed, “and I’m tired and cold and hungry, and It hurts an awful lot. I’m so miserable.”

“How long have you been here?” he asked. “Hours,” she moaned. “It seems like days, and It’s so black and lonesome.’.’ “Poor little girl!” he said tenderly. “I’ll soon have you out of it. I’ll skate down to the landing and borrow a sled.” She grasped his coat in terror. “Don’t leave me!” she pleaded. “I think I would go crazy!" ‘‘lt would take only ten minutes or so,** he argued, but she kept a convul-

sive hold upon his coat. Presently an idea struck him. “Can you stand on your other foot?” he asked. “Will it bear your weight?” For answer she put out her hands, and he helped her to rise. She winced as the lame foot struck the ice, but she smiled bravely. “I think I can,” she said. Tom dropped on one knee and started to unfasten the skate on the injured foot. The ankle was so swollen that he had to cut the strap through, but presently he rose and grasped her hands. “Now keep the foot up,” he commanded, “and let me tow you.” It was a little awkward at first They skated together nicely, but now she could not take a stroke, merely sliding along upon the single runner and leaning heavily against him for support. Under his coaching she soon caught the idea, and presently they were swinging along at a good pace. The injured foot ached with the motion and weight of the boot, but it was comforting to feel Toni’s strong hand clasp ami to lean against his shoulder as they sped along. Somehow she had never realized what a strong man he was until she felt herself being carried along almost without an effort. It was less than ten minutes before they came in sight of the town as they turned the last curve. “Looks kind of good, doesn’t it?” he laughed as she gave a cry of delight. “I thought I never should see it again,” she confessed. “I had almost given up hope.” “Lucky thing I had to go to Riverdale,” he commented. “I had given up the idea, but Johnson took me up in his rig to look at a hoi-se he wants to sell me, and I took my skates along.” “I’m glad .it was you.” she murmured. “Are you?” he asked in surprise. “I thought you would have had almost any one else rescue you.” “I did feel that way for a moment," she confessed, “when I first saw It was you. I wonder why you turned around.”

“Something seemed to stop me,” he explained. “It was a funny sort of feeling. I just seemed to see you behind me, and I had to turn around to m ike certain. It seemed almost as if a great hen 1 tnnde me step.” “I think it was fate,” she said softly. “Maybe I sort of half saw you and was not conscious of it until I had passed you." lie suggested. “I would rathei' believe it was fate,” she persisted. “So would I,” he said soberly. “Here’s the landing." The crowd had left the Ice and had gone home to supper. There were no sleds around, so he slipped off his skates and caught her up in his arms. “It’s only a couple of blocks,” he said. “We'll get home more quickly this way.” She did not make auy comment until he had carried her into the house and had bestowed her comfortably upon the sofa. As he turned to go she spoke bls name softly. He turned back. “Will you be over after tea?” she asked.

“Surely,” he answered. “I shall want to know how you are getting along.” “Will you bring the ring,” she whispered. “I have it right here!" he cried out eagerly., • For answer she stretched out her hand, and he slipped It on. “This makes me think of the only Browning I know,” he laughed. “Remember: “There’s a time In the lives of most women and men When all would go smooth and even If only the dead knew when To come back and be forgiven." “I forgave you long before that,” she whispered. “I care more for you than I do for Browning."

HE WAS LOOKING STRAIGHT AHEAD, AND IN THE DUSK HE PASSED HER.