Thursday, January 5, 1922
N °RRlS^^^^®
(Chapter XVII Continued)
in your old house, eh?" he
asked, resentfully, as he flipped the
aages of his program with a big thumb
and stared at it with unseeing eyes.
What does she want to live there
for?" tt
"The fact remains that she does,'
Ui.x persisted.
"Ye s, and have just as good a time
if she never had been married at
ill!" he said.
"You know —"
Ailx was beginning the nial that
*he had given him so confidently last
Qlght, but she Interrupted herself, and
•topped short. The conviction rushed
upon her in an overwhelming wave
list she had no right to repeat that
leaial now that the last dreadful twen
-T.four hours had changed the whole
situation, and that she herself had
tttte" reason to suspect Cherry than
either Martin or his gossiping aunt
She sat sick and silent.
Meanwhile, Cherry and Peter had
first opportunity to speak to
each other alone. To both the thirst
for speech was a burning necessity,
and it was with an almost dizzy sense
of relief that Cherry turned to him
wltb her first words.
'Peter, I don't dare say much! Can
yau hear ine?"
"Perfectly!" he answered, looking
*t his folded program.
"Peter, I've been thinking—about
)ur plan, I mean !» Martin plans to go
on MoDday. But something has hap
pened since I saw you this morning,
something that makes a difference! I
had a letter, a letter from some wom
an connecting his name with another
woman, a Hatty Woods —she's notori
ous in lied Creek—and this Joe King
icrowd that he went with —I don't know
*vho wrote the letter, or why she
wrote," she said, hastily, as Peter In
terpolated a question. "And I don't
care! As far as Martin goes, I am
free now; what is justice to Martin,
and kindness to Martin, will never
-count with me any more!"
Peter wasted no words.
"He goes Monday," he said. "We
;an go Sunday. This is Thursday
aight. Your suitcase I checked again
yesterday? Was it only yesterday?"
"That's all!"
"We would have been on the train
tonight. Cherry, flying toward New
Orleans!"
Her small hand gripped his in the
darkness.
"If we only were!" he heard her
breathe.
He turned to her, so exquisite in her
distress. Her breast was rising and
falling quickly.
'Patience, sweetheart!" he said.
"Patience for only a few days more!
Tomorrow I'll make the arrangements.
Sunday is only two days off."
Their eyes met in a wild rush of
triumph and hope.
"This time we shall do it!" Peter
said.
"Oh, Peter—you'll never be sorry?"
she whispered.
"Sorry! My dearest child, when you
five your beauty and your youth to
* wan almost twice your age, who lias
!over! you all your life—do you think
there is much chance of it?"
"Why shouldn't it be one of the hap
py marriages?" said Cherry after a
3ilence.
"It will," he answered, confidently.
'As the weeks become months, and the
months become years, and the beauty
sofi miracle of it go on and on, we
think that what we feel for each
stnor now is only the shadow —the
ireain
"Shall I just let Martin think I am
quietly going away with him on Mon
day.' she asked, after a silence in
which she was deeply thinking.
"Does he know you bad tiat let
ter ; Peter said.
* vo ; Alix is going to speak to him
about it." Cherry outlined the talk
that she and her sister had had at
breakfast.
•i hi'n I shouldn't bring up the ques
tion at all," Peter decided, quickly.
would only mean an ugly and un
|ieo.'sary scene. It's much wiser to
f- . hhll continue to think that you
L r know anything about it, and to
1 -V'x think that you are Ignoring
ihe whole thing!"
1 ntii Sunday!" she whispered.
Uiuil Sunday." Peter glanced at
ami Alix. who were talking to-
Settu-r ahsorbedly, in low tones. "My
-ttle sweetheart, I'll make all this
misery up to you!" he whispered. Her
liiiii i was locked in his for the
01 the evening.
♦ * • * ♦
horning came, a crystal autumn
Earning, and life went on. If there
*. as an >" change at the cabin it was a
* .or the better. Alix, who bad
cen silent and troubled for a little
* "• Was more serene now, as usual
concerned for the comfort of her
household, and as usual busy all day
long with he poultry and pigeons, her
bee-keeping, stable, and dogs. Peter
was his courteous, gentle, interested
self, more like the old Peter, who had
always been occupied with his music
and his books, than like the passion
ately metamorphosed Peter who had
been so changed by love for Cherry.
Martin, satisfied with the general re
spects and consideration with which
he found himself surrounded, accept
ed life placidly enough; perhaps he
had been disturbed by the advent of
the letter, perhaps he was willing to
let the question of an adjustment be
tween Cherry and himself rest. It
amused him to help get the house
ready for a tenant, and from the fact
that Cherry talked no more of living
there, and made no comment upon his
frequent reference to their departure
on Monday, he deduced that she had
come to her senses.
Cherry, too, was. less unhappy than
she had been. 'By avoiding Peter, by
refraining even in words and looks
from the companionship for which she
so hungered, by devoting herself to
Allx, she managed to hold her feelings
in leash. Even though Allx found
that the knowledge of the secret they
shared without ever mentioning stood
between them like a screen, the sis
ters, busy about the house, had won
derful hours together.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Saturday came, a perfect day that
filled the little valley to the brim with
golden sunshine. AJlx, driving alone
to the mountain cabin, stared in the
morning freshness at the blue over
head and said aloud, "Oh, what a day
of gold!"
The dog, sitting beside her on the
front seat, flapped his tall in answer
to her voice, and she laughed at him.
But the laugh was quickly followed
by a sharp sigh.
"Saturday," she mused, "and Mar
tin expects Cherry to go with him on
Monday! Expects her to go back with
him to a life of misery for her, exist
ence with a man she hates! Oh, Cher-,
ry—my little sister!—there can be no
happiness for you there! And Peter!
Peter is left behind to me, who can
not comfort hint or still the ache that
Is fearing h!s heart! My two loved
ones, and what can I do to help them!"
She had come up to the cabin to do
the usual last little daily fussing
among the ducks and chickens and to
bring Peter, if Peter had not gone into
town, back with her to Cherry's house.
They had all dined in the old Strick
land house the night before, and be
cause of a sudden rainfall had decided
to spend the night there, too. The
Chinese boy who had been helping the
sisters with their housecleanirig had
been persuaded to cook the dinner and
get breakfast, and the evening about
the old fireplace had been almost too
poignantly sw T eet.
But suddenly. at about ten o'clock.
Peter had surprised them all by get
ting to his feet. He was going up to
the cabin, he said—must go, in fact.
He would rather wnik, please, be told
Alix, when she offered to drive him
up in the car. Bewildered and a little
apprehensive, she let him go. To Cher
ry, who seemed to feel suddenly sad
and uneasy, Alix laughed about it, but
she was secretly worried herself, and
immediately after breakfast the next
morning decided to run up to the cabin
in the car and assure herself that
everything was right there.
Cherry, who had not slept and who
"Where Mr. Peter £• N«wr 6*
Asked.
was pale, had come out to the car,
her distracted manner increasing Alix's
sense that something was gravely
amiss. She started on her trip with
a heavy heart, but the half-hour's run
soothed her in spite of herseJf, .and
now she reached the cabin in a much
more cheerful mood.
Peter was nowhere about, and as
she plunged into "the work of house
and farmyard she supposed, without
giving the matter a conscious thought
that lie had gone to the city.
"Mis' Peter not go train," Kow an
nounced presently.
All Alix's vague suspicious
awakened.
"Not go train?" she-asked with a
premonitory pang.
Kow made a large gesture, as indi
cating affairs disorganized.
"Him no go to bed," he further
stated. "Boss come late. Efe walkin'
on por^.."
"He came in late and walked on the
porch 1" Alix echoed in a low tone, &?
If to herself. "Where Mr. fV.er go
cow?" she asked. "He havh soma
coffee?"
"No eat," the boy answered. He
indicated the direction of the creek,
and after a while Alix, with an icy
heart, went to the bridge and the pool
where Peter had first found Cherry
only a few weeks ago.
He was standing, staring vaguely at
the low and lisping stream, and Alix
felt a great pang of pity when she
saw him. He came to her smiling,
but as Cherry had smiled, with a wan
and ghastly face.
"Peter, you're not well?" Alix said.
"I think—l am a little upset," he
answered. They walked back to the
house together. Alix ordered him to
take a hot bath, and made him drink
some coffee, when, refreshed and
grateful, he came out to the porch
half an hour later. They shared the
little meal that was her luncheon and
his breakfast.
He followed her to the car and got
In the front seat beside her.
"You're awfully good to me," he
said, briefly, when they were going
down the long grade.
Alix did not answer immediately and
he thought that she had not heard.
She ran the big machine through the
valley, stopped at the postoffice, and
still in silence began the climb toward
the old house. The roads were all
narrow here, but she could have fol
lowed them in the dark, he knew, and
he understood that it was not her driv
ing that made her face so thoughtful
and kept her eyes from meeting hijs.
"You say I'm good to you, Pete,"
she surprised him by saying suddenJy.
"I hope I am. For you've been very
good to me, my dear. There's only
one thing in life that I haven't got. and
want. And that you can't, unfor
tunately, get for me."
He had flushed darkly, and he spoke
with a little effort. "I'd like to try I"
She ignored the Invitation for a few
minutes, and for an instant of panic
he thought he saw her lip tremble.
But when she turned to him, it was
with her usual smile.
"It's only that I would like to have
you—and—and Martin —and Cherry as
happy as I am!" she said quickly. And
a second later the mood was gone as
she turned the car in at the home gate
and exclaimed, "There's Cherry now!"
"Martin's somewhere about," Cherry
said as Peter joined her, and Allx
stopped the car within conversational
range.
AJix remarking that she would turn
the car so that she might later start
on the grade, disappeared, and the
two were together again, after what a
night—and what a day!—and that was
all that mattered. They spoke con
fusedly, In brief monosyllables, and
were silent, their eyes meeting only
furtively and briefly.
"Can you walk tip to the cabin wJth
me?" Peter asked. "I want so much
to speak to you. Everything's all ar
ranged for tomorrow. All you have
to think of is yourself. Now, in case
of missing the boat again—which Isn't
conceivable, but we must be ready for
anything!—l shall go straight to the
club. You must telephone me there.
Just go off tonight quietly, get as
much sleep as you can, and keep your
wits about you."
"Tell me our plans again," Cherry
faltered.
"It's perfectly simple," he said, giv
ing her anxious face a concerned
glance. "You are going to the Olivers'.
I go in, in the morning, to get your
suitcase and my own and get to the
boat. I shall be there at half-past ten.
You get there before eleven —you
won't see me. But go straight on
hoard and ask for Mrs. Joyce's cabin.
Wait for me there!"
"But —but suppose you don't c«rne!"
"I'll be there before you. It is bet
ter for us twt to meet upstairs. But
to be sure, I'll telepiTone you at Minna
Oliver's at about nine o'clock tomor
row morning. I'll just tell you that
| I'm on my way and that everything is
i all right! Do you realize that by this
j time tomorrow we shall ' out at sea,"
I he added, "leaning on ■]■■■ .ail —watch-
! ing the Pacific race !>:. —and belonging
I to each other forever and ever?"
The picture flooded her face with
happy color. "It's tomorrow at last!"
she said wonderingly as they walked
! slowly toward the house. "I thought
it would never be. It's only a few
hours more now."
"How will you feel when it's today?"
lie asked.
"Oh. Peter, I shall be so giad when
1 it's all over, and when the letters are
written, and when we've been together
for a year," she answered fervently.
"I know it will be all as we have
planned, but —but if it were over!"
They reached the side door now and
THE FOREST CITY COURIER
were mounting the three steps to
gether.
"Be patient until tomorrow," he
whispered.
"Oh," she said softly, "I shan't
breathe untiJ tomorrow."
Leaning across her to push back the
light screen door, he found himself
face to face with Alix. In the dark
entryway Peter and Cherry had not
seen her, had not heard her move. Pe
ter cursed his carelessness; he could
not remember, In the utter confusion
of the moment,, just what he and Cher
ry had said, but if It was of a betray
ing nature, they had betrayed them
selves. One chance in a hundred that
she had not heard !
Yet, if she was acting, she was act
ing superbly. Cherry had turned scar
let and had given him an open glance
of consternation, but Alix did not seem
to see it. She addressed Peter, but
when he found himself physically un
able to answer, she continued the con
versation with no apparent conscious
ness ">f t.ls stumbling effort to appear
natural.
"There you are! Are we going to
have any tennis? It's aftei two
now."
"I had no idea it was so late," Peter
said.
"I knew it was getting on," Cherry
added, utterly at random.
"Go in and tell the boy we won't be
back until tomorrow," Martin sug
gested to his wife.
"You could all come down here to
sleep," Cherry said, "and have break
fast herel"
"I have to go into town rather early
tomorrow," Peter remarked. "Porter's
giving a breakfast at the Bohemian
club."
"Why not walk up to the cabin?"
Cherry suggested in a shaking voice.
"I have to take the car up. You
three walk! Come on, anybody who
wants to ride!" Alix said.
"They can walk," Martin said, get
ting into the front seat. "Me for the
little old bus!"
Cherry came out of the house with
her hat on, and Buck leaped before
her into the back seat. Alix watched
her as she stepped up on the running
board, and saw the color flicker in her
beautiful lace.
"I thought you wore going to walk?"
Peter said nervousJy. He had saun
tered up to them with an air of in
difference.
"Shall I?" faltered Cherry. She
looked at Alix, who had not yet
climbed into the car and was pulling
on her driving gloves. Alix, toward
whose face the dog was making eager
•prings, did not appear interested, so
Cherry turned to Martin. "Walk with
us, Mart?" she said.
"Nix." Martin said comfortably, not
stirring.
"I'll he home before you, Pete, and
wait for you," Alix said. She looked
at him irresolutely, as if she would
have added more, but evidently de
cided against it and spoke again only
in reference to the dog. "Keep Buck
with you, will you, Pete?" she said.
"He's getting too lazy. No, sir!" she
reproached the animal affectionately.
"You shall not ride! Well, the dear
old Bucky-boy, does he want to come
along?"
And she knelt down and put her
arras about the animal, and laid her
brown cheek against his head.
"You old fool!" she said, shaking
him gently to and fro. "You've got
t.o stay with Peter. Old Buck —!"
SuddenJy she was on her feet and
had sprung into her place.
"Hold him, Pete!" she said. "Good
by. Sis dear! All right. Martin?"
The engine raced; the car slipped
smoothly into gear and vanished. Pe
ter and Cherry stood looking at each
other.
"Give them a good start, or Buck
will ratch them," Peter said, his body
swaying with the frantic jumping of
the straining dog. But to himself he
said, with a sense of shock: "Alix
knows!"
Buck was off like a rocket when he
finally set him free; his feathery tail
disappeared between the columns of
the redwoods. Without speaking,
Cherry and Peter started after him.
"And now that we are alone togeth
er." Cherry said, after a few minutes,
"there seems to be nothing to say!
We've said it all."
"Nothing to say!" Peter echoed.
"AJix knows." he said in his heart.
"Whatever we do, it all seems so—
wrong!" Cherry said with watering
eyes.
"Whatever we do is wrong," he
agreed soberly.
"But we go?" she said on a flutter
ing breath.
"We must go!" Peter answered.
And again, like the ominous fall of a
heavy bell-tongue, the words formed
in his hvvut: "Alix knows. Alix
knows."
He thought of the afternoon, only a
few weeks ago, when Cherry's beauty
had made so sudden and so irresist
ible an appeal to him, and of the in
nocent delight of their luncheons to
gether, when she had first confided in
him, and of the days of secret and
intense joy. that her mere nearness
and the knowledge that he would see
her had afforded him. It had all
seemed so fresh, so natural, so entire
ly their own affair, until the tragic
day of Martin's reappearance and the
hour of agonized waiting at the boat
for the Cherry who did not come.
There had been no joyous self-confi
dence in that hour, none in the dis
tressed hour at the Orpheum, and the
hour just past, when Cherry's rarely
displayed passion had wrenched from
him his last vestige of doubt.
But this wms the culminating unhap
piness that he should know, from
Alix's brave and gentle and generous
look as they parted, that Alix knew
He had, in the wild rush and hurry
of his thoughts, no time now to analyze
what their love must mean to her, but
it hurt him to see on her happy fare
those lines of sternness and gravity,
to see her bright and honest eyes
shadowed with that new look of pcln.
It was too late now to undo it; he
and Cherry must carry their desperate
plan to a conclusion now. must dis
appear and forget. .They had tried, all
this last dreadful week, they had both
tried, to extinguish the flames, and
they had failed. But to Peter there
was no comforting thought anywhere.
Wrong would be done to Martin, to
Alix, to Cherry—and more than even
these, wrong to himself, te the Ivie&l
of himself that had been his for so
many years, to the real Peter Joyce.
"Listen, that's Buck!" said Cherry,
as the dog's loud and violent barking
reached them from beyond a turn In
the twisting road. "He didn't catch
them, then."
The next instant a woman came up
the road, running and making a queer,
**himpMrfng noise that Cherry never
forgot. She was a stranger to them,
but she ran toward them, making the
(To Be Continued)
LEGAL NOTICE
NOTICE OF SALE OF VALUA
BLE REAL ESTATE
Under and by virtue of the
power of sale contained in a deed
of trust executed by W. F. Wig
gins to R. R. Blanton, Trustee,
the undersigned, and default hav
ing been made in the payment of
the indebtedness secured by said
deed of trust, and the holder of
the indebtedness, S. A. Summey,
having directed me to foreclose
said deed of trust, I, R. R. Blan
ton, the undersigned trustee, will
on the
Monday the 16ih day ol' January,
1922, at 12:00 M;
in front of the court house door
in Rutherfordton, Nt C., offer for
sale at public auction, for cash,
the following piece, parcel or
tract of land lying and being in
Colfax Township, Rutherford >
County, State ?f North Carolina,,
being a part of the Martha L. j
Park's place, lying on the East,
side of the public road, adjoining I
the lands of William Walker and J
others and described by courses j
and distances fes follows: BE- i
GINNING at pointers on the road, j
Elija Martin corner and runs j
thence with his line South 85 % !
East 141 poles to a stone; his I
corner; thence with the old line]
South 1 West 36 poles to a stone; j
the old corner; thence with the j
old line North West 113 poles j
to a post oak, old corner; thence (
North 12 poles to a stake or
stone, William Walker's corner;
thence with his line North 89
West 30 Vz poles to a stone on the ,
road; thence North 8 West 22
poles, to the place of the BEGIN-!
NING, containing 26% acres more 1
or less.
#
\
A good year! A very good year —
and you helped us make it so! We
thank you, and. extend to you and
yours the compliments of the season
Forest City Motor Company
Expert Battery Service FOREST CITY, N. C.
WHEN BETTER AUTOMOBILES ARE BUI!
BUICK WILL BUILD THE.V
Ihis th'e 16th day of December
1921.
R. K. BLANTON,
Trustee.
LAND SALE
Under and by virtue of a Deed
of Trust and five notes given C.
E. Huntley by T. S. Atkins and
wife, and assigned to me, wherein
one note for $2lB 40 is past due,
I will sell to the highest bidder at
the court house door in Ruther
fordton, N. C.,
on Monday, January 16, 1922
at 12 o clock m., or within the
legal hours ot sale, one house and
lot in the town of Forest City,
C., near the graded school
building, adjoining lands of Rein
hardt's, Weathers', Huntley and
others; bounded as follows: Be
ginning on a stake in Reinhardt's
line, thence with said line north
13 east 555 feet to a pine knot on
bank of branch; thence south 64
west up the branch as it meanders
with Weathers' line 213 feet more
or less to a stake in Weathers'
line, thence south 12% west 420
feet to a stake; south 7S
east 158 feet to the beginning
containing 1 83-100 acres more or
less.
Terms of Sale: $218.40 cash oa
day of sale; $218.40 July 14, 1922;
$218.40 July 14, 1923; $218.40 July
14, 1924; balance due and payable
July 14, 1925, at 6 per cent inter
est on all deferred payments from
January 16, 1922, with notes and
approved security or Deed ofi
Trust on said property, title with
held and bond given double
amount until the purchase prices
and interest is paid, then Deed
will be given.
Interest payable annually.
T. C. McBRAYER,
Assignee*
*ftft»ftftftftftft,ftftftftftftftftftftftftftftft«
I PROFESSIONAL CARDS |[
* *
3t-#ft%ftftftftftftftftftftftft'ftftftftftftftft&il
R. R. BLANTON
Attorney
Forest City, N. C.
Office in Bank Building
____________________________________
J. A. WILKIK
Insurance of All Kinds
Real Estate Bought and Sold
Forest City, N. C.
______
DR. FRANK R. WILKINS
Dentist
Over Moss-Reinhardt Furn. Sloro
Next to P. 0., Forest City, N. C.
Office Phone 179 Home Phone 21
DR. J. S. DORTON
Veterinarian
Shelby, North Carolina
Page Seven