Jasper County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 65, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 November 1912 — A JOYOUS SUMMER BY THE SEASHORE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A JOYOUS SUMMER BY THE SEASHORE

By LOUISE MERRIFIELD.

Hanscombe Proved to Be a Good Captain in Rough Weather.

(Copyright, 1912, by Associated Literary Press.) For one moment Hanscombe lost bis bead. “It’a been a Joyous summer, girlie, and there's another one ahead of us. I’ll try to come back." He was lying full length at her feet on the shore. Nan hardly noticed him. Her face was turned down toward the point. Something of the sunset glory seemed to linger on its girlish contour, but her eyes were full of latent mischief. “It’s so nice of you even to promise that, Mr, Hanscombe," she murmured. “Mother’ll be glad.” “Won’t you?" “I won’t be here." Hanscombe sat up. “Not if I should ask you to be here?" . Nan laughed and bit her lip. “You always seem like a funny, overgrown bpy to me 'when you to be earnest." “I’m not trying, Nan. You’ve known all along just what I’ve meant.” “It’s a good thing for me that I have,” laughed Nan. “Oh, don’t protest, now, and try to make good at the last minute. You don’t have to with me. You came down her® with Hal—" “He told me about you before I came, and that’s why.” “He’s awfully prejudiced." Hanscombe kicked a bit of driftwood half burled in the sand, and frowned. Fate was leading him into a snare. He ,■ knew when he reached the danger point, and always moved along at the right moment. He didn’t want to marry any girl. He had come to Point of Pines purely out of curiosity to see Pan Phillips because Hal had said she was the “bulliest” girl In the world. Across the bay he could see the white spot of the tents even in the deepening twilight. To-morrow he would be on the train bound for the west. And Hal would be over there In the tent, with Nan in the cottage up In the pines, only a few hundred fards away. “Won’t you miss me a bit, Nan?” “Lots.” Nan’s tone waß perfectly matter of fact. “You’re a dandy bass catcher.” “I can’t seem to catch anything else,” said Hanscombe cheerlessly. "What’s the matter with me, Nan?” “Matter? How?" guilelessly. “Don’t you like me?” “Very much. So does mother.” “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

Bavagely as a last chance at stirring up emotion. “Which time?” “Have you got them all tabulated for future reference? Nan, didn’t you care at all?” “Yes, I almost think I did.” For the first time Nan’s voice was a little unsteady. She still watched the faroff point jutting out like a long Hose into the sea. "But I don’t care now. I suppose that’s the last test, isn’t It? When you know that everything* lg going to end, and you just don’t care?” “Would you go with me?” Hanscombe’s face was a study in conflicting Impressions. It was not ap invitation he gave, merely one of hi* speculative flyers In love, and Nan knew It. She laughed, and shook her head. 1 “It would be k pretty hard sentence, wouldn’t it? For both of us? No, thank you, kind sir, not today.” Hanscombe studied her for a minute In silence. He did not know this mood. Vaguely he realized that Nan was, as the boys would call it, “kiddin’ him.” It was not pleasant to be a 6-foot, 170-pound halfback and be “kidded,” especially by the girl he had been gracefully trying to depart from without breaking her heart. Watching the little reddish curls that snuggled against the tanned throat, he wondered what the next ten minutes hold for him. All at once he knew that Nan Phillips held his heart and future very neatly balanced on her strong little pink palm. And there was Hal. “You see. Bob, you’re nice to have around—”

“Like a hammock or cake of ice,” growled Hanscombe. "Go on.” j “But I don’t believe you’d make a good captain In rough weather, and | we get a lot of that sort through life, .don't you know It? You’re a good 1 pal to talk to, and all that, but—” She stopped suddenly and stood { up. He saw in a moment what had happened. Drifting rapidly out to the open sea was their motor boat ! A couple of miles across the bay | was the little summer camp on the point. And they were on an Island in midchannel, with no chance of a steamer passing before the city boat In the morning. Hanscombe kicked off his shoes. j “You’re not going to try and swi matter it?” Nan demanded ln- . credulously. ~ “I’m going to the point,” he retorted deliberately. “I’ll get Hal’s boat and come after you. Don’t get rattled now. I won’t be long.” ) “There are cross currents out there—” “So there are here,” he said, grimly. “Better take my matchbox and get some driftwood together for a fire in case I give out. Hal will see It, and know there’s trouble. Qoodby.” “Why don’t you wait and see If we aren’t missed?” “Just to show I can be a rough weather captain, I guess,” he laughed. “Rustle after the driftwood, mate. I have to get into swimming gear.” f' Slowly she turned and went back over the winding shore, through the little path of sword grass and white clover. Once, at the top of a hummock, she turned and looked out to sea. It was a shadowy violet haze. His head looked like brown seaweed floating with the tide, far off j from the shreo. Nan watched it with keen, half-closed eyes until it disappeared, the little silver matchbox pressed to her cheek unconsciously. All her life she had lived at the Point. She knew every swirling current out in midstream beyond the island. Night after night she had gone out with Hal while he hung a red lantern of warning on the piling that marked the steamer channel. And now Hanscombe, careless, indolent, city-bred Hanscombe, was out there fighting the sea just to make good In her eyes that he was no coward. She gathered the driftwood into a heap, and set Are to it, not to warn Hal, but to give some cheer to the man out in the water in the darkness, j She knew in her heart she had cared for him from his first few days qt the Point. Hal was dear, but he was just a big brother. The very faults |of Hanscombe made her indignant against him because she reasoned he was too idle to put up his own good fight with fate and fortune. And she had made up her mind to let him go.

Once she put her hands to her lips and called him to come back, but there was no answer, aud as the night closed in, she sat on one of the tall sand dunes, her face buried oil her arms and sobbing until suddenly she felt Hanßcombe’s arms close about her. “Dear, don’t do that,” he said with a new, masterful touch in hiß tone. “Hal started after us—saw the fire, I think. When I caught sight of his boat pulling out, I turned and came hack. What’s the matter?” Nan kept her face hidden against his cheek. “Why didn’t you come right away?” "I had to dress and put out the Are so it wouldn’t spread in this wind, Nan?” He forced her to face him there in the semi-darkness. "Nan, you didn’t care a rap, did you, on the level, whether I came back or not?” Nan hesitated, and whispered very softly, “I didn’t want the ship left without a captain.”

Once She Turned and Looked Out to Sea.