Adventure, August 1917 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

6 He did not know whether she was having fun at his expense or that she really meant that she would return as she had come. He realized that if it were the former he would only be aiding her by protesting further, so as he stopped beside her he said— “You told me that you have always gone across beneath the falls on the ledge. I didn’t think that you lived here.” There was nothing about the girl to indi- cate that she did live within many hundreds of miles of the place. Her skirt and waist were distinctly of the city, most recently of the city, Searles had noted. Her skin was fair, untanned. The palms of her hands were smooth and pink. One can not even idle in the wilderness and be thus. Moreover, there was no backwoods shy- ness, though he admitted that the stamp of the city was lacking almost to the same extent. There was just a naturalness, al- most a childish confidence, in her attitude toward him, and yet there was mingled with it the certainty and poise which he had believed existed only where the trails are paved. The girl had first struck him as being beautiful, too, but now, with more leisure to study her, he was a little mystified as to what had induced this first impression. He had seen more regular features, better noses, even mouths more nicely curved. But still the impression of beauty remained, and it was not until he had marked the quick, easy strides as she walked across the flat rock, the swing of her shoulders, the strong, straight, rounded body, the glint of the set- ting sun on the great masses of corn-colored hair, that he realized that health, perfect, abounding, bursting, laughing, joyous health alone, had given her a charm he had never known before. “T have lived near here all my life,” she replied to his last remark. ‘Only, the last three years I have been in Toronto, in school. It is two years since I have been back, and this is my last vacation. I came only yes- terday.”’ “In school?” he asked unthinkingly. Somehow, she had impressed him as being older. “The university,” have one more year.” She had seen his surprise and added in her former bantering tone: ‘“‘The preparatory schools around here are hardly up to the standard.” she answered. “I Adventure '“T don’t always bungle this way,” he de- fended himself. “I haven’t recovered from the fright you gave me, I guess.”’ 3 “T hope that’s it,” she laughed. ‘‘I was afraid you were one of those dry, scientific chaps after that lecture you gave me. You are not connected with the geological sur- vey, are you?” “No, i geology,” he answered quickly. “Then you are——”’ She stopped in confusion and. added hastily: “T beg your pardon.” Searles had been so startled by the sudden turn of the conversation to his own affairs he did not recover at once, and it was the girl who spoke again— “Tf you are going to be near here longer we will be glad to see you at the mission,” she said. “I am Joan Malloch. We are always glad to see people from the outside, and you'd like Stan.” “T would be glad to, Miss Malloch. My name is Wallace Searles. From Detroit. But I didn’t know there was a mission any- where near here.”’ “Tt’s only a small one. Stan runs it, just as his father did. It’s on that deep bay near the trading-post,’’ and she waved her hand toward the opposite side of the river and down the lake shore. “T’ll be glad to come some evening. And now we had better start down river if you are to get back before dark.” He led the way across the flat rock on which they had been standing, expecting she would follow. After a few steps he turned just in time to see her head disappear beneath the edge of the chasm. So quickly did it go he had the sensation that she was falling, and for an instant he could not move. When he did hurry to the gorge it was to see Miss Malloch already half-way down the narrow trail that led to the edge of the whirl- pool, running swiftly, with quick little leaps and twinkling feet, on a dipping ledge where a slip meant death. ‘““Come back!”’ he called so loudly that his voice must have been heard down in the gorge despite the roar of the falls, for the girl turned, smiled, waved her hand as she stopped at the edge of the whirlpool. Then she turned at once, seemed to walk straight into the falling water, and dis- appeared. CoMmicdook just happened to know a little CO 5}