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About The Democratic times. (Jacksonville, Or.) 1871-1907 | View Entire Issue (May 8, 1902)
nuil Hull eepuraieu i.ieui, ua it seemed, forever. He was older now, but ns be neared the final act that should set him apart from the world and close up for always the springs of youth and desire the old feeling had leaped up, had filled him; he had somehow got a few days of respite, and this was the result, this mud escapade, this dangerous play time! The night wore on. At last he was aide to catch Marie’s eyes. She could not resist that pleading, tlie inexpress ible hunger In that look. She camo nnd sat down beside him, and agaiu [Concluded From Our Last Issue.] Medallion called off the figures of the dance. was u little woman, grown, oh. so bit They spoke in very low tones, trying terly wise! And when a woman grows with what desperate anxiety to pre Utter und wise the bravest should be rent their hearts showing in their humble, for she needs neither tlie help faces. of gods nor of men to aid her tongue. “What do you want to say?" she “When do you become a priest?" she inked. her br *ath catching. asked, witli slow inquisition. “I waut to know, Marie, if you still "A fortnight,” be said, “is the time love me?” hit volee whispered through fixed.” the music. “Then, as I said, why do you come?” “What does it matter?” she said. she asked sharply. ‘And is it right to ask?” "Can't you understand?” be replied, “I’ve come all tlie way from Quebec with a strong rush of feeling. hi ask it.” lie said. “A priest should be about his Fa “You came to ask that? What did ther's business, not at a dance,” she you come to say?" she flashed out. her replied scornfully. lips quivering a little. “Marie, Marie, aren’t you glad to see He understood. “Forgive me. 1 me,” lie said, “running all tills risk as thought you knew I couldn't ask you I do?” He had bls eyes on the little if you eared uuless I”— cross at her throat. He had once giv He paused, for if lie spoke the words en it to her. the die would be east forever; lie would “I have my own confessor,” she re never return to those quiet walls plied—“tin' good Father Fabre. I don’t where incense and not tlie breath of need another." Her fingers felt for the woman—a breath like this, soft, sweet. cross, then suddenly dropped it. Instinct witli youth and delight would She got to her feet. touch bis senses. Yet what liad he •'Marie, Marie,” he whispered. But come for? To rack a girl’s heart and witli a laugh she sprang down from soul aud then return to his masses tlie little platform among the dancers mil prayers, leaving an injured life be and caught Medallion's arm. hind him? When he started from Que With rollicking laughter Medallion bec he scarcely knew what he was go swung both her and Babette through ing to do, save that be must see this the flirting changes of a cotillon. girl's face once—once again. He bud An hour went by. Meanwhile Matte liad no thought beyond that. That de was gay, but Medallion noticed that her sire was hot within him. He did not hand was now hot, now cold as they know—she might be uiarried or dead or tlie betrothed of another, but he would see lier, then return to his sa cred duties and forget. In coming at nil he bad committed a sin for which he would liave to atone bitterly when lie returned, if he returnedl but the lat ter thought had not presented itself to him definitely, though it had flashed in and out of the vapors of emotion like a flying flame. But now here was Marie, and here was he in tlie garb of the workaday world, and frivolity and irresponsible gayety around them, and he, all on a sudden, with his faraway boyish reck lessness agahi alive in him, tlie master of the revels. “Unless?” Marie asked. “Yes, ‘un less?’ ” There were two little lines at the corners of her mouth—lines which never come to a girl’s face unless she lias suffered and lost. Marie bad not only a heart, but a sense of honor, too, for the man. Having come to her thus, whatever chanced be should justify himself in so far as might be by say ing what any honest man would say. She had a right to know if he still loved her, and be bad no right to know if she still loved him until that was Jone. He must lie justified in her sight. "Marie, Varie,” he u/itspcrcd. If lie loved her and said so. then let swung through the changes, and that the Angel jiolnt what way it would; lier eyes had a hard kind of brilliance. she would submit. It was not given him to read the heart She flushed with a kind of indigna of this romance. He would uot try to tion. Must she always be the sufferer? probe the thing. He merely watched He, a man. bad a work of life to inter and waited. He had known Marie est him; she had nothing—nothing save since she was only big enough to lean herself and tlie solitary path of mea her chin oti his knee, and many a time ger parish life. She would have her Since she had grown up he and old moment of triumph in spite of all. She Garon, the avocat, bad talked of her would hear him say lie loved her; she and wondered what her life would lie, would make him give all up for her. for it seemed to them both that there She was no longer the wistful, shrink . was no man in the parish who could ing girl who had been hurried back to make her happy, that year In Quebec her home from Quebec and handed Lad changed her so. had given her lar over to the tender watchfulness of M. ger ideas of life and men. Fabre, whose heart liad ached for her. He had talked much with her from yet who felt that wliat was was best time to time, and she had always She was very much a woman now, Beemed glad of that. She thought him and if only for an Lour she would have wise, and be Lad wondered at some her way. . deep, searching things she had said, “Unless what—Camille?” she asked. lie would Lave gone far to serve her, Her voice dwelt softly on the "Ca for the gossip, now alm st legend, mille.” It was the first sound of ten that lie Lad cared for Marie's mother derness that be had heard from her before she married Marie's father bad since lie carne, und it thrilled him. It foundation. The cure bad stepped in, wns three years since he had heard a for Medallion wus a Protestant, and voice with that sound in It. Life was that euded it, but Medailion had never grave and far from sentimental in the married, und, strange to say, the cure seminary. His youth—the old Adám and himself and Marie’s father were enme to swelling life in him. He put the best of friends. Medallion was also It all in the words, “I wouldn’t have busy watching M. Camille, for be felt asked you If you loved me yet, Marie, that herb was something wherein a unless I was sure you knew thnt I friend might serve Marie, though bow loved you”—be drew his bow caress be did not know. He liked tlie young ingly along the I) string, so tliat a man’s face, for It hid that touch of sweet, aching joyfulness seemed in loneliness and native s dltary thought fused into Hie dunce—“and that I’ve which the present gayety of eye, voice risked everything to come and tell you and manner made almost pat!. tie. Ho so.” even saw something more—a . .ckless- A low sound, half delight, half pain, ness, not natural to the youth’s charac came from her. But she turned lier ter. which sat on him like a touch of bead away. There was silence for a doom—and us lie thought Marie's al moment. legory — her “wonderful, beautiful, “Won't you spenk? What arc you dreadful” (those were 1 er words) tale thinking? Don’t turn your head away,” of love—kept showing in vivid pictures he continued. In bls eye. Slowly her face came toward him, But if lie could-have read the young her eyes shining, her cheeks pale, her man's mind, could have seen tlie strug lips slow and moving gently, but the gle going on there, the despair, the words dropping like metal. wild hope, tlie daring, Hie revolt, the “You are true to nothing.” she said; breaking up of ail tbo settled courses “neither to the church—nor to me” of a life, he would have Been as star “Marie, haven’t you any pity?” He tled as apprehensive, for while Camillo did not know what or how he was Debnrres was urging on this mirth and playing tiow. His fingers wandered, revel with n nervous eagerness be kept tlie bow came and went, but be was saying to himself over and over again: not thinking of tlie music. “I can’t give lier up! God forgive me! "Why are you so selfish, then?” she Marie! Marie!” said. “Why didn't you leave me here Tlie words beat In and out of the alone? A woman is always at a man's music. Youth, humanity, energies of mercy!” the active world, were crying out, fight Something scorched him from head ing for mastery in the breast of one s on t i be g! > en to the h paratencss of to foot. He now felt, as he bad never tlie church, wherein the love of man felt before, what that incident three nhd maid must be viewed with a dis years ago meant, wliat this girl's life tant paternal eye. A hundred f rces j had been since, what was the real na had been at work to put him and keep I ture of that renunciation. Tlie eight him in the church, and when, as a hand reel was near its end. He got Btudent, Marie came into his life these to bis feet in bis excitement, played | forces, with loving yet severe appre faster and faster, and then with a call I hension. closed on him and on the girl to the dancers and Medallion brought the dance to a close. In the subse- ’THE ANGEL ’ OF THE , vJR BCORNERS Jt $t # $t tt # ipient jostling, us me revelers mime tno gin because' she loved Philippe. their way to another room for supper, It seemed to Philippe that ho himself he offered Ills arm to Marie. nodded had killed her; that If he laid been ns gayly as he could to the frequent with her It wouldn't have happened. "Merci, merci, monsieur!" and they Since then the room has been us II wus walked together to the end of tlie the day he died.” Outside the trees were snapping In room, saying nothing. At that moment Alphonse entered, tlie frost, and now and again a dull followed by Antoine, who grasped tils Ixs-tn told that the Ice was cracking linn and held him buck. “Don't be a on the river a night of deep wrench fool!" Antoine said. "A row won't get ing frost, tlie snow three fiet deep, the cold steely sky brooding above. Pres you the girl.” But Antoine had had two seasons as ently as the two stood there the bells a lumberman mid river driver, and be of the purist. church rang out. It was had Just been drinking, lie held the midnight, the morning of the new code of the river—that where two men year. There were voices, too. of men md one woman were In the triangle of singing as they drove past the house, sleigh bells Joining with the song mid love war must be tlie end thereof. “I'll give lilm the grand bounce!” the church bells. They could not hear said Alphonse In wild English Idiom. the words, but they knew the air, and “l!e don't belting here- some lawyer's they knew what the song was. clerk or loafer.” I t’liree men went forth to woo u msI<1— ll> igho, those lovers three! "l:i< >1," said Antoine, still holding the first one was u roving binds, him back, "suppose Marie stand up for , tint And tie s eond came from cloister'« him?" di.nP, “I’shaw! He don’t belong here, nnd . And the third from the gallows tree. Cist cu! Ito. ho! Vest cs! she said some tilings to me about him— Try as Camille would, the second I knew. I’m going to ask her to sup .else of the song kept beating In his per with me." The two were standing silent nt tlie .'ltrs. It did not leave him all that (•ml of the room, watching this scene, night, and it followed him for many but not bearing the words. Marie, i day witli a kind of savage irony. however. guessed what was meant. Three men kne'.t down with u lover's plan - Presently Alphonse with disjointed Ho. ho, for such a maid! glances came nnd said to tier. "Have | Xml she choir* not him of the gallows tree, tupper with me. mu'tii'selle?’’ He turn And the roving blade hud an eye too free. Hot «w«e* *• tr*. tongue from Ibe clois ed his shoulder on Camille. ter s snsdo! Marie did not hesitate. "Not now, C'esl cal Ho, ho! Cent cal Alphonse. I have a guest"—she reach | The song died away, but the bells ed out her hand toward Camille—"and ti pt on ringing, and there came to he’s been working Lard for us all the them distantly laughing voices. There rvenlng.” was a strange look In Camille's eyes Alphonse looked nt her with an at i md swimming In his face. He stood tempt to be disdainful, then, snapping st 111 and did not off< r to touch the girl, bis fingers under Camille's nose con though he stood very near and her temptuously. said "I’ali!” and walked land rested so near his, she leaning away, with a shrug of the shouhlerB. tgalnst the bureau as though to stoutly "It wnsn’t so easy getting used to herself, but standing as he spoke. that ngnln after I came back from "Perhaps you will never understand,” Quebec three years ago,” she said. lie said, "how It all was. No oue can Singular how the priest in the youth »ver quite know. I wus younger. They was being so swiftly lost in the man. told me it was better for you, better Camille's fingers opened and shut, und ; "or mo. better for th* church, that we I tliould part. I thought you would for- I jet. I thought that perhaps I should lever see you again. I used to prny ' for us l>oth. I -never heard from you jr about you, but I could not forget. • • * Thia week it till came back to me —to shut myself out from you always, forever, by tlie sacred office! I sat up In my boil, choking. I could have shrieked. I could not rest till I laid seen yot! again. I thought perhaps she Is married, perhaps she no longer tares, jierhaps she—Is dead. Ho I came here. Somehow I seemed to break oose when I put off my student clothes. Mid you see me us I am tonight. You think I am wicked, that I am untrue to the church and to you. Ab. Marie, you no longer care ns you once did, mil I. God help me—I cannot go back now to the other. And I cannot live without you. I am punished, punish '<!!” He dropped his head, nnd a sob •aught him in tlie throat. He was so boyish, so honest. There was a si lence. “Camille.” The voice was low nnd sweet and >< r.v mar. It drew bis head up like a ■all. Their eyes swam in one burning itingry look: then there wasa little cry from her. nnd In an instant lie was • kluve ttifji cr with me, tna’m’scllef” Kissing away two tears that slowly his brow knotted. He smarted, too, fathered and ns slowly fell down her from Marie’s last remark. He did not ! not cheek. The woman hud conquered know that witli ail these bitter ■ it last, in spite pf the “great men of spee<'hes she wus ready to fall upon I the kingdom!" For the man there was his breast and cry till she had emptied .no going buck now. He had cast the her heart out. But she had been hu j lie forever. But she was a woman. miliated once, nnd she would rather Lind, having conquered, having Justi die than be humbled again, whether lie fied herself, she was ready for saerl* [fice. Now, when the man had wiped meant it so or not. The room was empty, but It could Hut nil liis past to begin life witli her, not be ho long, for sentimental groups '•lie was ready to immolate herself would wander buck from tlie supper She loved him so well that she thought inly of bls good. room. “Camille,” she said, gently disengag- As Alphonse disappeared Camille said: “Marie, I m seeing things as 1 ng herself, “I am paid for those three never saw them before. I want to talk years. But now now It must go no witli you alone, just ten minutes; that's further. The others parted us before all I ask. but alone, where no one can I ind made you appear unmanly—'twas [tliat which hurt me so. Now It 1 h I that Interrupt us.” “Would it be right?" she asked. He part us, dear. You must go back. You could not tell whether she was Iron [mustn’t ruin your life. Think of It all— wlmt would be ngainst you. Go back. ical or not. Bo a priest, nnd I”— "It shnll be right.” he said stoutly. He wns very pale nnd quiet. "And “You won't miud if it's cold?” she you—wliat would you do?" he said. questioned. “There is alwnyH tlie nunnery left,” “I won’t mind anything if you’ll only give me thnt ten minutes,” be answer ehr* answered wearily, yet bravely. “Yon think that I ought to go?” he ed. “But if it’s going to be cold wrap questioned. "You wish me to go, yourself up well." He took a mun’s coat from the wall. Marie?” “For yottr own good. Think of the “Come.” she said and opened a nar row door that led into a little hallway. trouble thnt would come unlesH. You As she did so lie threw the cout over will go, Camille?" Ills reply came with n low force: her shoulders. “Never, never! Remember how your “Give me your hand.” she added nnd, tnking it. led the wny for half a brother blamed himself, and she waa dozen steps In the dark. Thon she took an actress, you said. To lea.ve you n key from tlie wall and turned it in a now, how I would hate myself! Nev er!” Ills voice wns strong und de lock, which clicked back rustily. “It's my brother Philippe's room,” cisive; there was no wavering. "There site said ns she stepped inside, he fol are a hundred men. better men, to tnke my place there, Marie, but Is lowing. The moonlight on the frosted pane there any to tnke my place here?" Iln gave a ghostly kind of light to the 1 ran his arm around her waist. “Thorn chamber. Marie felt along the wall for Is no one,” lie added. “No one. Cnmllle," she said faintly. a matchbox. The man hnd In a vague yet direct "Oh, there’s not a match here,” she way, too, realized thut to save a bruis- added. ' ed life at your feet is better than to "I-'eel in thnt overcoat pocket,” be suggested. “Its owner is a smoker go a-bunting for souls with the king's mon. He bad wandered out to the smell It.” Nbe did so nnd drew out a handful. crossroads nnd lind been motioned He took one nnd scratched it on the hack to his own door. Tlie woman had wall. Neither of them knew It, but it been willing to save the man, but her was Alphonse's coat. Camille lit a heart beat for Joy that he did not go. "Come what will, Marie,” be said half burnt candle that stood on a client fervently, clasping her hands mid gath of drawers and then turned to Marie. “We have never used the room since ering her eyes to bis, “we must not part again.” Philippe died,” she said. “You do not fear the church?” she “I did not know,” he rejoined gently. “Philippe had been to Montreal,” asked. "I am a man!" he cried, drawing him she said. “There he'd fallen In with a girl"—her voice faltered—"an actress. self np proudly. “Perhaps they will not"— She He came back to see us, and mother paused in a sweet confusion. begged him not to go to Montreal “Perhaps they will not—marry us?” again, for w<- knew—a priest had writ ten to us about »lie girl. One day he ne an Id. piecing out the sentence. His ryes flushed. “How dare they not?” got a paper. He opened it at dinner. be added. “I was not yet a priest.” He saw something, gave a cry and How strange that sounded In her fi-ll against the table. ‘Elie est niorte! enrs! Already tin y had begun a new She 1» dead!’ lie c ried. A man bad shot Ill'll, ami now promt sue wiih or him, < amine smuggeii ms snouldera. the rebel for lier sake! Hlie run a band "Whiit'a that to you, my mini?" be over his shoulder. said. “You must go to the cure," she said, Alphonse ripped out an oath. "Wlmt “to good M. Fabre. He knows all. I you put on ulra with me for? 'My confessed to him." umn. my man!’ By the holy heaven, He thought a moment. “Yes, I will take that buck, you tramp!” go." lie said, "I will go.” Perhaps it was n long train Ing In tho "You must go at once—now,” she doister, perhaps It wus superior na urged. Then she udded hastily, "We ture, but Cmnille responded calmly, hare been here too long 1 forgot!" “Yes, I will take it buck, if you like, With a laugh he picked up the over but you must not call me a trump.” coat which hud dropped from her You cannot exorcise n devil In n mo shoulders uml carefully wrapped it ment. Tbo game bud gone too fur. around her. He wus big with energy, Wur was lu Alphunse's heart. emotion und courage, u rebel who But tncrc wuh also In Camille’s face doubted not of success. A moment afterward they were the freedom of Ills new life. "Per haps," he answered meaningly. ibout to issue into the other room. “Then, by heaveu, you fight me first!" Mie opened a creaking door. He shut shouted Alphonse and blocked the it for an Instant, clusped her to his wuy. breast, then opened the door again, An Instant Inter ho struck out. It drew Illa cup from his pocket, put It wns not altogether an unequal buttle, on and wus gone Into the frosty night. for, although Alphonse wan powerful She shut the door slowly uml went mid hardened by laborious life, Camille back to tlie dancing room. It wns wiih well knit, supple and had, unlike nearly filled, and dancers were clam most of I i I n I'omradi'H in college, been oring for the tiddler uml Marie. As constant in athletic exercises. Alphonse she entered the room Alphonse strut discovered thin By u sudden trick t'n- ted over to her. | mllle, who wns being pressed mid pun "Been for a walk with the tiddler In ished hard, suddenly brought Ills as my coat?" he said In u rough way. "Here Is your coat, and thank you, sonant to the ground jimt iih u figure uppenred on the hill above them, ths Alphonse,” she said quietly und re cure on I i I h wny to visit n sick parish- provingly. loner. He tiling It over his shoulder, “l.ucky The cure called out apprehensively. that the fiddler wasn't wearing it or At that instant, with a helpless moan, I'd never seen It iigaiti. Perhaps he Camille rolled Alphonse and blood was running off with It and you stop gushed from bls neck. Alphonse then ped him, ell?" lie added. sprung up and disappeared In ths She turned on him with a still, cold I woods. A moment Inter the cure knelt face, her eyes nil fire. “Behind bls • beside the youth, stanching the blisnl back, Alphonse. It's so easy.” ! from the wound. Sleigh bells Hounded "I’ll say it to his face. He’s only a near. He raised I i I h head nnd called tramp anyway.” loudly. The cure, lifted him up and "You'll find him ut the cure's.” she felt Camille's heart to Hee If ttleri* Wilt added coldly, turning away to Medal I life. lion. 1 A few minutes Inter Cmnille lay In Anxiety showed In Medallion's eyes. '. the cure’s little room, conscious now “What has h ippeued?” he said. ; Slid able to tell, little by little, ills She hesitated. ' story why he had gone to the parish “I wish you would tell me," he add ' ami why lie wiih seeking the cure, but ed. “ft'» better thnt u girl should not lie did not tell then, mid he never told, go through some tilings alone." whose knife It wns t but left a senr up Their eyes met. The line that lie on his neck. People guessed, for Al hnd once borne her mother gave now a phonse never came back to the parish, kind of fatlierllnesK to his look \ ague but guesslug does not put a muu in ly she felt It mid with her fresh, flunk prison. • nature responded nt once. Tlie cure wiih u wise man, Thera "You remember the story 1 t Id aft | wiih but one wuy now, mid ho wns er tlie dunco of the Little Wolf?" she | sorry that that way hud not been en- asked. | tered on three years before, for tbo He nodded. "Yes, yes." fives of these two young people bail "Well, that wiih a!l true. He—<’n [ been on the r<-ad to misery ever sine«*. mtllo—wus studying for a priest. It In any ease, after this uffiilr with Al could not lie. arid we parted. He lias phonse. the church was InqioHsIble to ccmc buck; that's nil." ! Cnmllle. '11m b«*st words that ('mil ills “Wlmt has lie come Lack f r?" Me , had heard in his life came now from dallion gravely asked. the cure, who. lifter walking up and A look of triumph showed In her down tin* room thoughtfully for a tlrie, eyes. 'Wlmt do you think?" she said. said, "My sou. I will send for Marie ” “Is lie n priest now?" Marie, Medallion and the cure saw “No.” the first sunrise of the new year from “He Is giving It ull up for vou, Ma beside the saved and sleeping Cnmllle. rie?’ The church hnd one priest the less, “For me,” she said, with a proud but tin* Angel of the Four Corners was flash of her brown eyes. | glad to see two human souls on the Medallion's bund closed on liera ' highway to that tavern which men cull warmly, strongly. "Begad, lie's n man." 5 home. he said, “and. begad, you’re worth It nnd a hundred such men!” Blown to Atoms. "Oh. you don’t know, you don't know, how go*si and brave lie Is!” sbo re 1 he o d idea that the body s me* t tine*, mull a powerful, dr.isiic.purga- joined. Medallion smiled quizzically. “Ah. 1 tive till Las bi on exploded: fir Dr. know men, mid I know no man, my King s New Li’o Film, which an* per- dear, that's as go< il ns u woman! And 1 l'u t' *,V*n'‘'H’** gently stimulate liver and bowels to expel jois' nuns matter, ywu're of the i est. Where lias he gone?" c ■ ;it sa tlie system and ab-olutely Again a smile crossed her face. To cine const Ifiat ion and sick headache. a woman then* come but few momenta 1 July 2.>c at < tty Drug Store. of triumph, only a few great scenes In lier life. She could not resist the joy of saying with a little dnsli of vanity, PROFLSSIOUAI CARIlb. "He Las gone to the cure." Medallion gave a noiseless whistle. Frankly and promptly lie said: “Well, GEO. O’B. BE UAH, M» D.t n happy new year to you both, my PHYSICIAN ANO SUKUKON girl! It’s just now five minutes inside the new year." Jacksonville, Oregon. Mean while Alphonse hnd hurried from the room nnd was hard on the trail of «“Off co Kahier'« Building, up-Rtuirw Bea- lii'hieon CmifcrnU MLxpci. or Divot t'mnllle. Even In the vague glimmer caila aiteiided rrvmoth he could see a swinging pride In the bearing of the stalwart youth Htrldlitg J. M. KEENE, O. □: S. on In the moonlight. When lie left the house, he Imd no definite purpose in Ids mind. Now lie had a kind of dev OPKRATIVK DKNTtSTKY A SPECIALLY iltry which gets Into the blood of men Unices ,n the Adkins Deuel block when n woumn stmids tietween them. In the river driver’s veins there beat Medford, . . Oregon. the slmmi les.i agony of Aliel’s brother. 11" broke Into a run. Swifter, swifter! H. O. NOH1ON, Before Camille hnd half climbed the iTTOBNEY AND COUNSELOR AT LAW hill to the cure s house lie was limiting hard after. A cry broke from him be- Grant’s Pass, Oregon, «•Office above 8 P D. A L. Co ‘s Store. Wm. M. COLVIG, LAWYER. • Jacksonville. . Oregon. •^Office In ties Men’s Hu Idin P. P. PRIM a SON, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELORS AT LAW Jackaanvllle, Oregon. Will practice tn all courts of tbe Risto. Of Hee In the Court House lesi door on tbe rlrht from entrane« A. C HOUGH, ATTORNEY-ATLAW Orsnt’s Puss. - • • Oregos. Office over Hslr-R.ddte Hardware Store. A. E. REAMES, ATTORNEY-AT-HW, Jacksonville, IVitlt a hilph»• moan Camille rolled Al phunte. fore ho reached Camille, the snarl of n num In whom there are working envy uml Im to. Camille hoard and turned. He rec ognized Alphonse. “What you go to the cure's for?" asked Alphonse roughly. - • Oregon. SSrOdice tn Red Men’s Building. ROBT. G. SMITH, attorney and counhrlor at law . Grant’s Pass, Oregon. * Practices In all the courts uullding up st tire Office tn Hank