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Show THE SAUNA SUN. SAUNA, UTAH THE BRANDING IRON lANITHEI By Katharine Newlin Burt SYNOPSIS Copyright by Katharine N. Burt John Landis, eighteen years ter of John Carver, who murdered her mother for adultery. Her lonely life, with her father, In a old, wife of Pierre, Is the daugh- Wyoming cabin, unbearable, Joan leaves him to work In a hotel In a nearby town, Joan meets Pierre, and the two, mutually attracted, are married. Carver tells Pierre story of Joan's mother. Pierre forges a cattle brand. Frank Holllwell, young minister, presents books to Joan. Pierre forbids her to read them. Maddened by jealousy, Pierre ties Joan and burns the Two-Ba- r brand Into her shoulder. Hearing her screams, a stranger bursts Into the house and Bhoots Pierre. The stranger revives Joan, telling her Pierre Is dead, urges her to go with him. In-At the stranger's home Joans juries are attended to. CHAPTER XI Continued. He stood up near her feet at the corner of the hearth, tucked the Instrument under his chin and played. It was the Aubade Provencale, and he played It creditably, with fair skill and with some of the wizardry that his nervous vltnllty gave to everything he did. At the first note Joan started, her pupils enlarged, she lay still. At the end he saw that she was quivering and In tears. He knelt down beside her, drew the hands from her face. Why, Joan, whats the matter? Dont you like music? Joan drew a shaken breath. "It's as If It shook me In here, (something trembles in my heart, she said. I never heered music before, Jest whistlin." And again she wept. Prosper stayed there on his knee beside her, his chin in his hand. What an extraordinary being this was, what a magnificent wilderness. The thought of exploration, of discovery, of cultivation, filled him with excitement and delight. Such opportunities are rarely given to a man. Even that other most beautiful adventure yes, he could think this already! might have been tame beside this one. He looked long at Joan, long Into the fire, and she lay still, with the brooding beaud ty of that melody upon her face. It was the first music she had ever but there heard, except whistlin, had been a great deal of whistlin about the cabin up Lone river; whistling of robins In spring nothing tweeter the chordlike whistlings of thrush and vlreo after sunset, that with which bubbling the blackbirds woo, and the light diminuendo with which the bluebird caressed the air after an April flight. Perhaps Joans musical faculty was less untrained than any other. After was Just all, that "Aubade Provencale the melodious story of the woods in spring. Every note linked itself to an emotional, subconscious memory. It filled Joans heart with the freshness of childhood and pained her only because It struck a spear of delight Into her pain. She was eighteen, she had grown like a tree, drinking In sunshine and storm, but rooted to a solitude where very little else but could reach her mind. She had seen tragedies of animal life, lonely horrible flights and more horrible captures, she had seen Joyous woolngs, partings, She knew that the and bereavements. sun shone on the evil and on the good, but she knew also that frost fell upon the good as well as upon the evil, nor was the evil to be readily distinguished. Her father prated of only one offense, her mothers sin. Joan knew that It was a man's right to kill his woman for deallns with another man. This law was human ; It evidently did not hold good with animals. There was no bitterness, though some ferocity, In the traffic of their loves. While she pondered through the first sleepless nights In this strange shelter Of hers, and while the blizzard Prosper had counted on drove bayoneted battalions of snow across the plains and forced them, screaming like madmen, along the narrow eanyon, Joan came slowly and fully to a realization of the motive of Pierres deed. He had been Jealous. He had thought that she was having dealings with another man. She grew hot and shamed. It was her fathers sin, that branding on her shoulder, or, perhaps, going back farther, her mothers sin. Carvfer had warned Pierre of the hot and smothered heart to beware of Joans lookin an lookin at another man. Now, In piteous woman fashion, Joan went over and over her memories of Pierres love, altering them to fit her terrible She was still held b.v all experience. the strong mesh of her short married life. She had simply not got as far as Prosper Gael. She accepted his hospitality vaguely, himself even more When she would be done vaguely. with her passionate grief, her laboriof the past, her active ous going-ove- r and tormenting anger with the lover whom Prosper had told her was dead, then It would he. time to study this other man. As for her future, she had no plans at all. Joans life came to her as It comes to a child, unsullied by curiosity. At this time Prosper was Infinitely the more curious, the more excited of the two. which seemed to her to have filled this strange, gay house for an eternity. For the first time full awareness of the present cut a rift In the trouble! cloudiness of her Introspection. At once Prospers hand laid down its pencil and he turned about In his chulr and gave her a gleaming look and smile. Joan was fairly startled. It was as If 6he had touched some mysterious spring and turned on a dazzling, unexpected light. As a matter of fact, Prospers heart bad leapt at her wistful and beseeching voice. lie had been biding his time. He had absorbed himself in writing, content to leave In suspense the training of his enchanted leopardess.. Half-abseglimpses of her desolate beauty as she moved about his winter-boun- d house, contemplation of her as she companioned his meals, the pleasure he felt In her rapt listening to his music In the still, frost-hel- d evenings by the fire th,ese he had made enough. They quieted his restlessness, soothed the ache of his heart, filled him with a warm and patient desire, different from any feeling he had yet experienced. He was amused by her lack of Interest In him. She evidently accepted him as a superior being, a Providence ; he was not a man at all, not of the same clay as Pierre and herself. Prosper had waited understanding enough for her first move. When the personal question came, It made a sort of crash In the expectant silence of his heart. Before answering, except by that smile, he lit himself a cigarette; then, strolling to the fire, he sat on the rug below her, drawing his knees up Into his hands. Id like to tell you about my writing, Joan, After all, Its the great Interest of my life, and Ive been fairly seething with It ; only I didn't want to bother you, worry your poor, distracted head. Theres more In life than youve dreamed of experiencing. There's music, for one thing, and there are books and beauty of a thousand kinds, and big, wonderful thoughts, and theres first-hear- mar-guer-l- sense-experienc- e death-struggle- magic-making- s, love-plnlng- s, CHAPTER XII Matter cf Taste. you wrltln so hard for, Mr. Gael? Joan voiced the question wistfully on the height of a long breath, the drew it from a silence A What are stockings stuffed Into the shoes. Joan She bad eagerly arrayed herself. trouble with the vest, It was so filmy, so vaguely made It seemed to her, and to wear It at all she had to divest herself altogether of the upper part of her coarse underwear. Then It seemed to her startlingly Inadequate, even as an undergarment. However, the robe did go over It, and she drew thaf close and belted It In. It was provided with long sleeves and fell to her ankles. She thrilled at the delightful clinging softness of silk stockings and for the first time admired her long, round ankles and shapely The Chinese slippers amused feet. her, but they were beautiful, all embroidered with flowers and dragons. She felt she must look very queer, Indeed, and went to the mirror. What she saw there surprised her because It was so strange, so different. Pierre had not dealt In compliments. Ills woman was his woman and he loved her body. To praise this body, surrendered in love to him, would have been Impossible to the reverence and reserve of his passion. Now Joan brushed and colled her hair. Then, starting toward the door at Wen IIos announcement of Dinner, lady, she was quite suddenly overwhelmed by shyness. From head to foot for the first time In all her life she was acutely conscious of herself. On that evening Prosper began to talk. It was Joans amazing beauty as she stumbled wretchedly Into the circle of his firelight, her neck drawn up to Its full length, her head crowned high with soft, black masses, her lids dropped under the weight of shyness, vivid fright In her distended pupils, scarlet In her cheeks Joan's beauty of long, strong lines draped to advantage for the first time In soft and the clinging fabrics that touched spring of Prospers delighted egotism. He told anecdotes, strange adventures; he drew his own Inverted morals; he sketched his fantastic opinions; he was In truth fascinating, a speaking face, a lithe, brilliant presence, a voice of edged persuasion. She drew herself up straight In the big chair, sipped her coffee In dainty Imitation of him, gave him the full, deep tribute of her gaze, asked for no explanations and let the astounding statements he made, the amazing pictures he drew, cut their way Indelibly Into her most sensitive and preserving memory. Afterward, at night, for the first time, she did not weep for Pierre, the old lost Pierre who had so changed Into a torturer, but, wakeful, her brain was on fire, she pondered over and over the things she had Just heard, feeling after their meaning, laying aside for future enlightenment what was utterly Incomprehensible, arguing with herself as to the truth of speeches an Ignorant child wrestling with a modern philosophy, tricked out In motley by a ready wit. He gave her pretty things, whole quantities of them, fine linen to be made up into underwear, soft white and colored silks and crepes, which Joan, remembering the few lessons In dressmaking she had had from Maud Upper, and with some advice from Prosper, made up not too awkwardly, accepting the mystery of them as one of Prospers And, In the meantime, her education went on. Prosper read aloud to her, tutored her, scolded her so fiercely sometimes that Joan would mount scarlet cheeks and open angry eyes. On$ day she fairly flung her book from her and ran out of the room, stamping her feet and shedding tears. But back she came presently for more, thirsting for knowledge, eager to meet her trainer on more equal grounds, to be able to answer him to some purpose, to contradict him, to stagger ever so slightly of his superiority. the And Prosper enjoyed the training of his captive leopardess, though he sometimes all but melted over the pathos of her and had much ado to keep his hands from her unconscious young beauty. And, in the Meantime, Her Education Went On. companionship and talk. What larks we could have, you and I, If you would care I mean, If you would wake up and let me show you how. You do want to learn a womans work, dont' you, Joan? She shook her head slowly, smiling Pm so awful Ignorant, wistfully. you know so awful much. It scares me, plumb scares me, to think how much you know, more than Mr. Ilolli-weSuch books an books an books An wrltln, too. You see I'd be no help nor company fer you. Id like to listen to you. Id listen all day long, but Id not be understand. He laughed at her. Joans pride was stung. Youve no right to laugh at me," she said. Id not be carin what you And she left him, moving like think. an angry stag, head high, ll 1 light-steppin- Before dinner he rapped at her door. Joan, will you do me a favor? A pause, then In her sweet vibrant voice she answered Id be doin anything fer you, Mr. Gael. "Then put on these things for dinner Instead of your own clothes, will you? She opened the door and he piled Into her arms a mass of shining silk, on top of It a pair of gorgeous Chinese slippers. Do It to please me, even If you think It makes you look queer, will you, Joan?" "Of course," she smiled, looking up from the gleaming, sliding stuff Into his face. Id like to, anyway. Dressing up that's fun." And she shut the door. She spread the silk out on the bed and found It a loose robe cf dull blue, embroidered In silver dragons and lined with brilliant rose. There was d a skirt of this same stuff. In one weighted pocket she found a belt of silver coins and a little vest of creamy lace. There were rose silk NURSE vemawd PRAISES TANLAC Mrs, Leona Culpepper, 17 Luoile Ave-tuiwho was a trained nurse for fifteen years, Is another highly esteemed e, Atlanta woman whose gratitude and desire to help others prompts her to tell of the wonderful results she derived from the Tanlac treatment. I had suffered from nervous Indigestion and loss of appetite for four or five years," said Mrs. Culpepper, and was nearly always nauseated. I had heartburn so bad I could hardly stand It, and became so weak and nervous I could hardly do my housework. "Reading what Tanlac had done for others, I decided to try It, and hy the time I finished the first bottle I was feeling so much better that I bought two more. When I had finished the third bottle I was feeling fine and had actually gained sixteen pounds. Tanlac is all that Is claimed for It." Tanlac Is for sale by all good druggists. 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Advertisement. 254 AND 754 Children Cry for nel, freshly blocked with snow, and Joan, having finished the Life of Cellini, a writer she loathed, but whose gorgeous fabrications her master had forced her to read, now hurried to the bookshelves In search of something more to her taste. She had rethe gay air of a holiday-seeketurned Cellini with a smart push, and, kneeling, ran her finger along the volumes, pausing on a binding of It was the color bright that had pleased her and the fat, square shape, also the look of fair and type. She took the book and squatted on the rug happy as a child with a new toy of his own choosing. (TO BE CONTINUED.) r, blue-nnd-gol- well-space- d Jealous Spaniards Hid Wives. Venetian blinds flrRt The came to Venice from Spain, where The Jenlousles." they were called Jealous Spanish husband kept his wife in seclusion. She was not allowed to draw up her blinds, but she might peep out through the silts between the laths. 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It was a January night when Joan, her rough head almost In the ashes, had read Isabella and the Pot of Basil b.v. the light of flames. It was In March, a gray, still afternoon, when, looking through Prosper's bookcase, she came upon the tale again. Prosper was outdoors cutting a tun- 1 on our faces. full of gloss, gleams and life shortly follows a genuine toning up Falling Where Is Her Wisdom? My wifes not a fool, by any Jones Then why on earth did sh marry you? COLOR A harmless vegetable butter colot used by millions for 50 years. Drug stores and general stores sell bottles of Dandelion for 35 cents. Adv. Danderlne" So Improves Lifeless, Neglected Hair. of Rheumatism Accept only Bayer" package which contains proven directions.. Algebra Is said to train the IntelDuring courtship a man's word goes lect, but some wonderful successes seventeen times as far as It about never had It. dots after murrlnge. GIRLS! Lumbago orr. For Internal Cleanliness |