Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 March 1907 — The Upper Levels. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Upper Levels.

By HONORE WILLSIE.

On a Sunday afternoon Dick strolled across the meadows beyond the town. He had grown to love the swelling slope that stretched up from the river to the mining sheds. For the first time he was beginning to think that his father’s taunt at the “leader of cotillons” was to be productive of good; that, combined with Alice Upham’s refusal, the taunt had forced him to see life with a broader view. It was the mines that had worked the change, the mines and Marian! Considering that she was a miner’s orphan, Richard Houston gave a large amount of his thought to Marian. Considering that she “worked a bit for her board” with Mrs. Lisbon, the miner’s wife with whom Dick* boarded. Dick was having bad lapses of the Houston pride. Still,- as Dick said to himself, there was not much danger of a man s making a fool of himself over a girl of sixteen. On this particular Sunday, after a week when the miner’s pick had been particularly distasteful to him, Dick had asked Marian to walk with him. At first she had hesitated; then she had refused, looking up into his face with a little smile that, even though she was only a child, he had come to watch and work for—a smile that curled delicate, deep red lips back over perfect teeth, a smile that lightened up the wistful little face to dazzling loveliness. As she slipped from the room Dick watched the lithe figure and the wonderful braid of hair that swept her back. “If she w-ere five years older”— But the sentence remained unfinished as he filled his pipe and started on bis solitary tramp. He walked for hours.

and it was late twilight when he again crossed the meadows near the mines. It was a lonely spot, so Dick was surprised as he beard a voice: “Oh, Mr. Houston!” “Yes, Marian?’ “Oh, I am so glad! Mrs. Lisbon and I have been worrying about you.” Then, walking beside him with a dis tractingly confiding air: “Ever since you and Jim Lisbon took such a stand against the strike some of the toughs down at the end of the village have been making threats. Mrs. Lisbon w’ent to find Jim, and I got to worrying and came out to find you.” “Steady, now, steady,” said Dick to himself. “Remember that she is nothing but a miner’s little girl.” Then aloud: “Well, now, that is mighty good of you, but there isn’t a bit of danger. I—great heavens!” They were enveloped in an unbreathable cloud of dust. There was a dull, muffled rumble, a little scream from Martan, then silence. “Marfan!” called Dick as he struggled to rise. Marian rose to her knees, struggling and gasping for breath. “The ground caved into a gallery. I have heard of it often.” “Are you hurt?” asked Dick. “I—l think not.” Dick was now on his feet and pulled the girl up beside him. Then he took out his match safe and scratched three or four matches in rapid succession. They were in a pit formed by the sinking of the meadow into a mining level that had run too close to the surface. The pit was but half a dozen feet wide, but it was many times that to the field above. Dick dropped the match he held. “I won’t light any more for awhile. We may need them later.” “Let’s call,” said Marian. Dick a few lusty shouts, but silence seemed deeper than ever as he paused. A small hand crept into his, and his fingers closed warmly about it. “I think I am frightened,” half whispered Marian. He chafed the slender fingers. It’s useless to try to climb this soft clay.” A mass of debris slid to their feet. “We’ve got to get out of this. Ho scratched a match, then gave a quick exclamation. “Marian, there is a level •viening!” He paused. Through both minds flashed a picture of the 'angers that would attend any ato“ipt to escape through the mine. Yet

they knew that each moment in the pit might mean death. Then a quick plunge and they were in the darkness of the mine. They felt their way In silence for several minutes, then: “Are you frightened, Marian?” asked Dick. “Yes,” said Marian, “but that does not matter.” A new tone in the soft voice puzzled Dick. It was as if a woman and not a child had spoken. New thoughts were crossing Dick Houston’s mind. If this little girl were five years older. If she were educated, if she were not a miner’s daughter, if— The slender fingers lay very warmly and confidingly in his. A soft, thick braid of hair touched his face as Marian flung it back over her shoulder. Dick smiled tenderly as he pictured the familiar little gesture. “Keep up your courage,” he said. “There is no actual danger, you know, except of a bad cold for you.” Not daring to speak of his fear of fire damp, he added, “Let’s rest a moment.” “The darkness almost suffocates one,” half whispered Marian. Some strange madness was possessing Richard Houston. Family traditions, ideals, ambitions, were gone before a whirlwind that swept his brain. Still holding the soft hand, “Marian,” he said, “do you suppose that in a couple of years from now you could do more than just like me?” “How much more?” asked a demure little voice beside him. Dick paused. “Could you love me?” “But I don’t know you at all, and,” still more demurely, “somehow I never planned to love a miner.” Dick flushed in the darkness. "Perhaps by that time I shall be something more than a miner, for—for you have grown to be a great deal to me, little girl.” “Did you ever know,” went on the girlish voice, “that if a grownup girl were to wear her hair in a braid down her back and shortish skirts even a very grownup girl would look like a child?” Dick felt somewhat dazed. “But why should she do that?” “Oh, so the men wouldn’t bother her.”.

More and more bewildered was Dick, yet one clear purpose remained to him. “Marian,” he whispered, “do you love me?” ( Then the cold, the darkness and the fear of the fire damp were forgotten as Dick felt acquiescence in the yielding fingers. But only for a moment. “Please, please,” trembled the girlish voice, “let’s first get out of this awful place!” Head and heart in a turmoil, Dick started on. Almost immediately his outstretched hands found the gallery barred. They had followed a blind level! Back again, stumbling and weary, with the fire damp rendering them dazed and short of breath; then, along the left hand level, on and on, until almost discouraged. Suddenly Dick stumbled and fell on his hands and knees. Marian gave a cry of dismay, but Dick uttered a joyful shout. “The track, Marian! We are out of the old workings and we ll be at the surface in a few minutes!” It was indeed but a short time,more before the two stepped from the cage into the velvet dusk of the fall night. The stars gleamed softly overhead; the smell of dew wet meadows blew across their faces. The two stopped before beginning their walk up the street to the cottage. "Whew! That’s the hardest job I’ve had since football days,” said Dick unthinkingly. Marian looked up into his face. “Are you a college man?” “Yes,” said Dick. “Are you any relation to the Houston who owns these mines?” "His son. I came to learn the business from the pick up, as he did. But,” he took the soft face between his hands, “that need make no difference, need it?” Marian’s reply seemed at first irrelevant. “I wrote a story of a coal miner. The editor liked it so well that he asked me for another chapter. I wanted good material and—and so—l really live in Boston.” Dick looked about him hastily. Then the little figure was almost lifted into his arms, while the great braid tangled in his fingers. “But I thought—l loved you when you were a sixteen-year-old miner’s daughter!” he whispered. "But, sir, if you really must know, I am twenty-two!” “Then we will only wait for you to put up that braid.” And Dick laughed like a boy.

SUDDENLY JACK STUMBLED AND FELL ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES.