Adventure, August 1917 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

10 wish to take part again with her boy play- mate in the old wilderness adventures. But healthful youth is never constantly sacrificial in its spirit and there were times when, stepping from his canoe weary and discouraged, he longed ardently for Joan’s presence, when his determination to be only Joan’s dutiful guardian weakened. It was so this evening. Tired by his long paddle, discouraged by his inability to find the source of the Indians’ whisky, he suddenly found himself regretting that he had urged Joan to stay in Toronto during her third Summer. He knew that she would have arrived at the mission by then had he asked her to come. Instead of the empty beach at the head of the bay there would have been a place of lightness and laughter. Instead of the empty evening before him with its futile conjectures there would have been the glad recital of wonder- ful events in that other world to which he had sent her. But as Stanton pulled up his canoe the last thought brought back his natural self. Joan was where he wished she would be, in the place where she could meet the man she should meet, in a position to gain the things she deserved of life. It was for the best after all, and he still had his Indians, had only to make their problems more completely his. And then with a rush from the top of the * bank, Joan was upon him, Joan with her laughter, with that magnetic force which lifted all in her presence to the gay, bouyant heights in which she seemed always to soar. “Stan!” she cried. ‘Stan!’ and her arms were around his neck and she had kissed him once, twice, a dozen times. Bewildered, almost unbelieving, he stood staring. Even the last kiss had failed to rouse him completely. “But I thought,” he stammered. “You thought I was going to stay in that horrid city another Summer. I intended to, Stan. I had accepted two invitations, but when June came, and when I knew the poplars were beginning to show green, and the days were long and the black flies biting, why I just couldn’t stay, Stan. I had to come.” “But your friends,” he protested, still fighting the thought that she was back in the wilderness with him, ‘“‘what did they think?” “T don’t care what they thought. Any- Adventure how it was better. I would have been a- grumpy guest, wishing all the time that I was back here, and I came.” Together they started up the bank and for the first time Bancroft saw some one standing there, dim in the shadows. He stopped, gripped by a sudden fear. What if... Had she brought. His knees trembled from something besides the cramped position of the canoe. He had never thought of that. He had urged her to go to college with the secret plan that she would meet other men. But the in- evitable result, her before his eyes, her to torture him, that part of it he had never considered, had never prepared himself to meet. “This is Stan, Mr. Searles,’”? Joan was saying. ‘The Reverend Mister Stanton Dowell Bancroft. You’d never think it to look at him in those old clothes, would you? Stan, this is Mr. Searles, of Detroit, United States of America.” Bancroft stood miotionless, speechless. Joan looked quickly from one to the other. “‘Have you two met?” she asked. “T don’t believe I have had the pleasure,” said Searles easily as he stepped forward and extended his hand. “I am very glad to know you, Mr. Bancroft.” With an effort Stanton roused himself and shook hands. “T’m glad to welcome you, Mr. Searles,” he answered as formally as possible that he might hide the resentment that hecould not down. “Won’t you come up to the house?” He turned and led the way, walking ahead, trying to grip his ‘senses, his emotions, to appear natural. in this chaos suddenly burst upon him. CHAPTER III SEARLES FINDS OPPOSITION OAN realized before they entered the house that a strained situation existed between the two men, though she was un- able to account for it in any way. She was quick to see, also, that only Stanton gave evidence of its influence. The young missionary had so far recov- ered himself, however, that by the time they were seated in the living-room of the low, rambling cabin he made an effort to be agreeable. cComiclbook (© S|