Jasper County Democrat, Volume 23, Number 68, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 November 1920 — COMRADES OF PERIL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

COMRADES OF PERIL

By PANDALL PARRISH

SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Tom Shelby, a rancher, rides in to the frontier town of Ponca looking for a good time after a long spell of hard work and loneliness on the ranch. Instead, he runs into a funeral — that of Dad Calkins, a retired army man of whom little is known. A girl, still In her teens, survives Calkins. CHAPTER IL—McCarthy, a saloonkeeper and Ponca's leading citizen,. decides that the girl, now alone In the world, should marry. Shelby starts a bunt for eligible husbands and the minister goes to confer with the girt “Well, then, this play has gone far enough,” she said shortly. “I’ve been square with you all, but I ain’t going to be made a fool of no longer. Now It is time for you gents to get out o’ here. I pointed out the fellow rd take an’ there ain’t another one o’ the bunch HI even look at. I ain’t so crazy ’bout gettin’ married; it’s only because hd said it was the will o’ God that I have. Now I’m done. I picked my man an’ there ain’t nuthin’ else here Td touch with a pair of tongs, so you might as well save your breath and get out. I don’t want to talk any more to any of you.” “But, my dear child —” “Stop that! I’m no dear child; Tm a woman; an’ this place is mine, even if it is a shack. You get right out o’ here, the whole kit an’ caboodle of you.” Shelby was the first to slide forth through the half-open door, glad enough to escape into the cool night air, his face burning as though on fire, his mind in a tumult of emotion. He had no sense of humor left, just an 111-defined feeling of mortification and regret. She had been justly indignant and he felt profoundly sorry for the part he had played. By heavens! She was some girl; no mere wishywashy creature to be laughed at and ignored. He’d like to tell her so. Perhaps he would; there would be reaction after awhile, when those fellows were all gone. Her burst of , anger , would die away and she would shed of mortification. It would be L twice thing then if he could go back r all alone and comfort her; exhow it happened and show her how Impossible it was for him to marry. He could the men plainly enough, outlined in the light, as they descended the steps one by one and then faded away In the darkness. They were a disconsolate, discomfited bunch, with downcast faces and silent lips. The preacher and McCarthy came last, the former still talking/ his voice imploring, but evidently to no purpose, for something behind kept impelling him forward and even while he clung to the step for one final effort the door slammed In his face and Shelby heard the sharp snap of a lock. “Well, ru be d d!” ejaculated Mac, his temper utterly giving way. “If she ain't a wildcat! Lord, but Pd sure pity the feller who did marry her. Come on, old buck, there is no use stayin’ here. I wonder where Shelby went?” “Straight ter h—l, I hope,” the Buffalo Gap J. P. burst out, forgetting his clerical role in a sudden expression of feeling. “Whatever caused the I fool to butt in?”

•‘Oh, he didn’t intend nuthin’. Tom ain’t that kind. He just drifted ’long Iter see the sum- Yer can’t blame him ([cause , the gurl took a shine his way.” I The two disappeared, their voices ■till grumbling, apd Shelby got to his Ket and moved along the edge of the ■nt to where he could view the shack W'tter. Through the window on that ■ie an unobstructed blaze of light ■ured forth, but even as he stood ■ ring at It the girl appeared fully Wealed in the glare and drew down ■ curtain. He saw her clearly, like ■ icture in a frame, one round arm ■ fted to grasp the shade. He drew J® uick breath, almost of astonishWbl conscious of the rapid beating ■ft, heart. By heaven, she was Wdly pretty! He had never thought IB before; but then, in that ruddy B the strange impression took pOs> Wn as something entirely new. 9k served to strengthen his pur■He would not play the part of ■ird; he would go in and ex■he would make her understand .J how matters were with him By he acted as he had. was accomplished hesitatBd in doubt. He was at the See before he found sufficient So knock lightly. There was Wise and he used his knuckles intensely conscious of Bo turn and run away. But ■no opportunity. The latch Btrply and the light streamed 1B O his face, fairly blinding B is you back again 7* she Wy. “What did you want?” Wit to have a. word with Bly,” he explained lamely,

Blinking his eyes. ‘T—I thought'maybe I could explain.” “Explain what?” “Why—why how this thing happened, Miss." His confusion rendered him almost incoherent. “You see, I —l don’t want you to think I’m that sort.” “Oh, you don’t? Well, I’m not that sort, either. Come along In, If you want to; I’ll hear what you have to say.” Shelby never felt quite so awkward and impotent before in all his life, as he did standing there, fiddling with the hat in his hand, while the girt carefully closed the door behind him. Her own appearance of ease, even of enjoyment, only added to his deep embarrassment. For the first time he really took notice of the room, hqw plainly it was furnished; a deal table, two chairs; the stove, a few books on a shelf, with a small clock between. Everything looked cheap, but Immaculately clean, and, as his eyes wandered back to the girl, that was what impressed him most about her—cleanliness. It evidenced ih face and hands, in the dark skirt and white waist, in the smooth strands of hair. “Well,” she said pleasantly, “I reckon you might as well sit down, as long as you are here." He found a chair and dropped into it, and she took the only other one, her hands clasped in her lap and her serious eyes watching him with undisguised curiosity. “I didn’t expect to see you again," she broke the silence which was becoming awkward. “What wds it that brought you back?” “Fact is I don’t know,” he explained, startled sound of his own voice. “You seel —I Sorter got an idea you might be lonesome and —and a bit mad at me, an’ so I thought maybe I better drop in an’ tell you how it all happened. But It don’t look like, you was mad.” “No, I’m not mad. I flared up for a minute, but that’s all over with. I ain’t botherin’ none about that outfit.” “So I see,” somewhat more at ease and crossing his legs. ‘T reckon that’s about the right way to look at it. Whatever made you pick me?” “Why, naturally, I took the bestlookin gone I saw, Mister —Mister —” “Shelby, Tom Shelby; so you didn’t even know my name?” “No idea of what it was; I picked you out because you didn’t live here —

that’s why, .if you really want to know.” “Then you did know me?” “No, I didn’t. I saw you at the funeral an’ I knew you wa’n’t no Ponca man. I didn’t care who you was ,or where you dame from, just so you gave me a chance to get out o* this hole. I would marry an Indian to get out.” “Then that whs why you took me — so as to get out o’ here?” She nodded. “That’s ’bout the size of it I didn’t take no stock in what'the preacher said, for I ain’t no weeping willow, Tom Shelby, an’ I don’t need nobody to take care of me." Shelby laughed. “You made a mighty poor guess, at that,” he said cheerfully, “when you picked me. I’d a took you to a worse place than Ponca.” “There ain’t none,” positively. “Where is It you live, anyhow?” “Over on the Cottonwood; ’bout sixty. miles north, up near the reserva-

tlon. H—l! But It’s lonely up there; not another white man tn thirty miles." “You are ranching?” “Just startin’, you might say; runnln* a few head on a free range.” “But you’ve got a house, a place to live in?" "Sorter shack —yes; a corral an’ a sod stable; that’s ’bout all. Td be a dandy, wouldn’t I, ter ask a girl out there an’ live? No, sir; that ain’t my style; It wouldn’t be decent.” She did not speak for some time, her eyes roving about the room and then returning to rest on his face. There was no smile on her Ups. yet somehow she did not look Sullen or Indifferent. j, / “And diat was why you said no? You came back to explain? It wasn’t because you disliked me, then? Because you despised me for doing such a thing?" “What, me? I should say . not. There wa’n’t nothing done that wa’n’t all right. I don’t blame you a mite. You ought to git married.’! “Do you really think so?” “Yes, I do; this ain’t no place for a single woman w’ho wants to be decent, to live in. Besides, you’re old enough.” “flow old am I?” “Seventeen, maybe; I ain’t much on guessing ages—specially women.” “I am nineteen,” she paused, her teeth gleaming as she smiled. “I wish you would tell me about yourself.” He glanced up at her surprised and twisting his hat about in his hands. “That won’t take long,” he said soberly. "I ain’t got much history, so to speak. I was born In Kentucky an’ run away when I was seventeen. Been out in this country ever since, soldiering most of the time, and then punching cattle for the Six Stars. Saved a little money and started In to go It alone. That’s about all the story.” “With a lot left out. Why did you leave home?” "Oh, they wanted me to go on in 'school and be a lawyer.” “You finished high school?” “Sure;- what made you think that?” She laughed.

“Oh, just a word or two; you’ve got into the habit of talking like these people out here. So have L for the matter of that. When you live with them for years, it’s bound to twist your tongue. I can speak good English when I try.” “An’ the thing yer want to do most is to get away from Ponca?” “Yes.” “Yer sure don’t hold no grudge against me for what happened tonight?” t Her lips and eyes smiled. •“Why, of course not. It was too ridiculous for anything. After you had filed out I put my head down on the table there and laughed until I had tears in my eyes. The expressions on those faces when I picked you out would have made a dog laugh.” Shelby wanted to say something, but his mind seemed to be utterly blank. He could just stare at her dumbly.. The silence became so embarrassing that he finally got awkwardly to his feet. “I’m—l’m awfully glad you took it that way," he stuttered. “You see, I don’t know much about girls and so I was afraid you might be mad. ril have to go now, I think, Miss.” “I’m very sorry, but I’m glad you came. Good-bye, Mr. Shelby.” He took the outstretched hand, conscious of the warm pressure even as he fumbled at the latch of the door. His eyes were ddwncast and his sac« flamed; nor did he breathe easily until he was again outside, alone in the darkness of the night. (TOBE CONTINUED.)

"I Picked You Out Because You Didn't Live Here.”