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Show ? V; THE BINGHAM NEWS , the i BRANDING IM C7 Katharine ..-"- " 7)7 J? I COPTB1GHT BS KATHARINE KEWUN BIBT. boring ranch. They would make search, but winter would be against them with its teeth bared, a billiard was on Its way. By the time they found her, thought Prosper and he quoted one of Joan's quaint phrases to himself, smiling with radiance as he did so "she won't be carln' to leave me," In his gay, little, flrellt room, he sat, stretched out, lank and long, in the low, deep, etinlr, dosing through the long day, sipping stroug coffee, smoking, read-ing. He was singularly quiet and con-tent. The devil of disappointment and of thwarted desire that had wived him In this carefully appointed hiding-plac- e stood ewey a little from hhn and that wizard Imagination of his began to weave. By dusk, he was writing furiously and there was a glow of rapture on his face. CHAPTER XI The Whole Duty of Woman. Joan waited for Ilolllwell and, wait-ing, began Inevitably to regain her strength. One evening as Wen IIo was spreading the tsbl, Prosper looked up from his writing to see a tall, gaunt girl clinging to the door-jam- She was dressed Id the heavy clothes, which hung loose upon her long bones, her throat wos drawn up to support the sharpened and hollowed face In which her eyes had grown very large the change there began something like a struggle, lie was afflicted by a crossing of purposes and a stumbling of Intention. He did not care to risk a second look. He crept away and fled Into the windy dusk. He traveled with the wind like a blown rag. and, stopping only for a few bours' rest at the ranger station, mada t'ae journey home by morning of the second day. And on the Journey he definitely made up his mind concerning Joan. Prosper Gael was a man of dellber-t- e, though passionate, Imagination. SYNOPSIS John Lundls, eighteen rears old. wife of Pierre. Is the daugh- I ter of John Carver, who murdered her mother for adultery. Her . lonely life, with her father, tn a Wyoming; cabin, unbearable, Joan I leaves him to work In a hotel In I a nearby town. Joan meet 1 Pierre, and the two, mutually at- - ''." traoted, are married. Carver telle I Pierre atory of Joan's mother. 5 Pierre fora-e- s a cattle brand. I Frank HolllweU, young-- minister. 5 presents books to Joan. Pierre forblda her to read them. Mad- - ' dened by jaaJouay, Pierre ties If Joan and burns the Two-B- ar brand Into her shoulder. Hear-ing her screams, a stranger bursts Into the house and shoots Pierre. The atranger revives I Joan, telling her Pierre la dead, urges her to go with him. He did not often . upon Impulse, though his actions were often those attempted only by passlon-drlve- n or Impulsive folk. Prosper could never plead thoughtlessness. lie Justified carefully his every action to himself. These were cold, dark hours of delib-eration as he let the wind drive him across the desolate land. When the wind dropped and a splendid, still dawn swept up Into the clean sky, he was at peace with his own mind and climbed up the mountain trail with a half-smll- e on his face. e e e e e e In the dawn, awake on her pillows. Joan was listening for him, and at the sound of his webs she sat up, pale to her Hps. She did not know what she feared, but she was filled with dread. The restful stupor that had followed her storm of grief had spent Itself and she was suffering again waves of longing for Pierre, of hatred for him, alternately submerged her. All these bleak, gry hours of wind during which Wen Ho had pattered In and out with meals, with wood for her stove, with lttt'o questions as to her comfort, she had suffered as peo-ple suffer In a dream; a restless misery like the misery of the pine branches that leaped up and down be-fore her window. The stillness of the i ji CHAPTER X ! 7 i Prosper Comes to a Decision. Perhaps, In spite of his gruesome boast as to dead men, It was as much to satisfy his own spirit as to com-fort Joan's that Prosper actually did undertake a Journey to the cabin that had belonged to Pierre, It was true that Prosper had never been able to top thinking, not so much of the tali, slim youth lying so still across the floor, all his beauty and strength turned to an ashen slackness, as of brown hand that stirred. The motion pf those fingers groping for life had Continually disturbed him. He went tack stealthily at dusk, choosing a dusk of wind-drive- n snow so that his tracks vanished as soon as made. Tho roof of Pierre's cabin made a dark ridge above the snow, veiled In cloudy drift. He reached It with a cold heart and slid down to Its window, cautiously bending his face near to the pane. He Joan's Eyes Wandered Curlouely About the Brilliant Room. and wistful. She was a moving figure, piteous, lovely, rather like some grace-ful mountain beast, its spirit half-broke- n by wounds and Imprisonment and human tending, but ready to leap Into a savagery of flight or of attack. They were wild, those great eyes, as well as wistful. Prosper, looking sud-denly up at them, caught his breath. He put down his book as quietly as though she bad Indeed been a wild, easily startled thing, and, suppressing the Impulse to rise, stayed where he was, leaning a trifle forward, his hands on the arms of his chair. Joan's eyes wandered curiously about the brilliant room and came to him st last. Prosper met them, re-laxed, and smiled. "Come In and dine with me, Joan," expected an interior already durk from the snow piled round the win-dow, so he cupped Ms hands about his yes. At once he let himself down out "" " of sight below the sill. There was a living presence In the house. Prosper had seen a bright fire, the smoke of which had been hidden by the snow-spra- y, a cot was drawn up before the fire, and a big, fslr young man In tweeds whose face, rosy, sensitive, and quiet, was bent over the figure on the cot. A pair of large, white hands were carefully busy. Prosper, crouched below the win-dow, considered what he had seen. It was a week now since he had left Landls for a dying man. This big fel-low In tweeds must have come soon after the shooting. Evidently he was not caring for a dead man. The black head on the pillow had moved. Now there came the sound of speech, Just a bass murmur. This time the black head turned Itself slightly and Prosper saw Pierre's face. He had seen It only twice before; once when It had looked up, fierce and crazed, at his first entrance Into the house, once again when It lay with lifted chin and pale lips on the floor. But even after o scarce a memory, Prosper was dawn, with Its sound of nearlng steps, gave her a sickness of heart end brain, so that when Prosper came softly In at her door she saw him through a mist ne moved quickly to her side, knelt by her, took her hands. "He has been cared for, Joan," said Prosper. "Some friend of his came and did all that was left to he done." "Some friend T" In the pale, delicate-ly expanding light Joan's face gleamed between Its black colls of hair with eyes like enchanted tarns. Prosper could see In them reflections of those terrors that had been tormenting her. His touch pressed reassurance upon her. his eyes, his voice. "My poor child! My dear! I'm clad I am back to take care of you I Cry. Let me comfort you. He has been cared for. He Is not lying there alone, lie Is dead. Let's forgive him, Joan." He shook her hands a little, urgently, and a most painful memory of Pierre's beseeching grasp came upon Joan. She wrenched away and fell back, quivering, but she did not cry, only asked In her most moving voice, "Who took core of Pierre after I went away and left him dead?" Prosper got to his feet and stood with his arms folded, looking wearily he sold. "Tell me how you like It." She felt her way weakly to the sec-ond large chair and sat down facing him across the hearth. 'It's right beautiful," said Joan, "an' right strange to me. I never seen any-thing like it before. That" her eyes followed Wen Ho's depsrture y "that man and all." down at her. Ills mouth had fallen Into rather cynical lines and there were puckers at the corners of his eyes. "Oh. a big, fair young man a rosy boy-fac- serious-looking- , blue eyes." Joan was startled and turned round. "It was Mr. Ilolllwell," she said. In a wondering tone. "Did you talk with him? Did you tell him V "No. Hardly." Prosper shook his head. "I found out what he had done for your Tlerre without asking un-necessary questions. I saw him, but he did not see me." "He'll he comln' to get me," said Joan. It was an entirely unemotional statement of certainty. prosper pressed his lips Into a line and narrowed his eyes upon her. "Oh, he wllir "Yes. lj.e'11 be tnkln' after me. He must n' ben scalrt by somethln' Pierre said In the town durln' their quarrel an' have come up after him to look out what Pierre would be doln' to me ... I ,ie'd cnm' ln he be think-I- n' time ... What must of me now, to find Pierre there, dead, an' me gon?! He'll be takln' after me to bring me home." Trosper would almost have que, tioned her then, his sharp face was rortnlnlv at that moment the face of Trosper laughed delightedly, stretch-ing up his anus ln full enjoyment of her splendid lgnorsnce. 'The Chins-man- ? Does he look so strange to youf "Is that what ha Is? I I didn't know." She smiled rsther sadly and ashamedly. "I'm awful Ignorant, Mr. Gael. I Just can read an' I've only read two books." She flushed and her pupils grew large. Truly, thought Prosper, It was like talking to a grave, trustful, and roost Impressionable child, the way she sat there, rather on the edge of her chair, her hands folded, letting everything he said disturb and astonish the whole pool of her thought At dinner, Prosper, unlike Ilolll-well, made no attempt to draw Joan Into talk, but sipped his wine end watched her, enjoying her composed silence and her slow, graceful move-ments. Afterward he made a couch for her on the floor before the fire, two skins and a golden cushion, a rug of dull blue which he threw over her, hiding the ugly skirt and boots. He took a violin from the wall and tuned It, Joan watching him with all her eyes. "I don't like whnt you're playln' now." she told h!m, Impersonally atd gently. "I'm tuning up." "Well, sir, I'd be getttn' tired of that If I was you." "I'm almost done," snld Prosper houiMy. (TO UK CONTINt'KD.) nn Inquisitor, a set of keen and dell-rat- e Instruments ready for probing, and childlike did she but so weary nnd childlike was her lnoU .o wenrv What did it speech, thflt he forbore. matter, after nil. what there was In her rast? She hnd done whnt she bad done, been whnt she hnd I n. If the 'Hlow bad branded her for sin. why. he hnd suffered overmuch. Proper that, unhrnnded as to si;n. ;;;";.n, .,..,, nt to pt ,. under her clean nnd chlllzed K.,vCn foot. Was the Ills, rosy chnp her lover? She hnd spoken of a quar-,,Pfwen- n him and Pierre? They looking for Joan to come back to go to the town, to suti-- cy.gb- - There Wss a Living Pretence In the House. startled by the change. Ilefore, It hnd been the face of a nmti beside him-self with drink an the lust of animal power and cruelty; now It was the wistful face of Pierre, drawn Into a tragic musk like Joan's when she came to herself; a miserably haunted and harrowed face, Uopoics as though It, too, like the outside w orld, had lost or hud never had a memory of huh. Evidently ho submitted to the dress-ing of Vis wound, but with a shamed end pitiful look. Prosper's whole of the tnau was changed, and M0THER1 GIVE SICK BABY ! "CALIFORNIA FIG SYRUP" Harmless Laxative to Clean Liver and Bowels of Baby or Child. Even constipate w-f'- w ed, bilious, fever- - w v r lsh, or sick, colic V, X Babtes and Chll-- f i dren love to take v genuine "Callfor-nl- a Fig Syrup." No other laxative t- - y regulutes the ten-- V 'f& JT der little bowels A-- - ?s so nicely. It'ys$fV sweetens the .Aos7- - stomach and starts the liver and bowels acting without griping. Con-tains no narcotics or soothing drugs. 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"Say, pn, what's a floating debt?" "A motor boat, my son." Boston Transcript. It's not a woman's fault If a secret remains a secret. What He Wanted. He hud held stock In the company for a number of years. Once a year he hnd received a letter giving glow-ing accounts of the company's pros-pects, with the usuul proxy Inclosed for him to sign. The other day he replied to one of these letters as follows : "Gentlemen: I have grown weary of signing proxies. What I should like now Is the pleasure of Indorsing a divi-dend check." Sincerity. Jud Tunklns says It's Impossible to be absolutely sincere all the time, otn-erw-you'd often have to think up something besides "Dear Sir" In starl-ing a letter. Movie Pedagogy. One movie director cun get his ac-tors to follow him perfectly. His scheme is simple enough, too. "You're a tine actor, Wulter," he yells. "IteKlHter Joy." Walter registers Joy, "That Is, you used to be a fine ac-tor, but you're slipping. Now register distrust." And Walter dois. Telegraph Wires In Uganda. Telegraphs In Ugunda are not al-ways relluble, as the natives covet and often cut down the copper wlra for making Into bracelets uud neck-luce-s. Explained. Boston Lady How much are these string beuns? Boston Huckster Seventy-fiv- e cenu a quart. Lady Isn't that rather nltltudl-nous- ? Huckster Yes, modum; but these are very high-strun- g beuns. Yale Record. Insect and Reptile Stowaways. Spiders, tree frogs, lizards, and snukes are often found concealed In cargoes of pineapples, bananus, and other fruits from the tropics. Time Saver. Efficiency expert (to central)- - Would you mind If I gave you tha number all five times at once? Life. Here's the Impossible Task. It Is easy for a niun to live on his wife's money but he has no chance at all of getting to heaven on her re-ligion. New Orleuns States. Why He Stopped. "I thought McMIser had taken up golf. lie doesn't seem to be playing now." "Yes, he started, hut he has given It up. He lost his ball." Bos-ton Transcript. It's Impossible for greedy people ta be grateful. He who does no wrong has no fear Quiet. of the law. "Was It a quiet weddlngr "Very. They didn't even hnve tin cans tied to their automobile." The income tax Installment alwnys falls due when you can least afford tht money. i Many n mnn Is too lazy to marry) i rich widow. I How Times Change. Tho wild life used to consist of hurt-In- s th'' traine In tli Onyfline ninl sleep !ng nt night, but now It consists of sloopliig In the ilsiytltiii- - urn! hunting the -- nine nt Tilxlit. ('Kvlatvl I 'lain DenH'f Too ninny people ue their home. a tilling stations where they fill up, pa.1 up and rush on, |