THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. Ben B. Lindsey
 
 
 x=3i
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS
 
 Jim Miller's Girls 
 
 by 
 LEWIS ERWIN FINNEY 
 
 Author of 
 'DAN'S MINISTRY' 
 
 Boston 
 THE ROXBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.
 
 Copyrighted 1914 
 
 By Lewis Erwin Finney. 
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 PS 
 
 To My Wife, 
 
 Who has made my work for 
 
 the uplift of men 
 
 possible. 
 
 iiosiss
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. Water-Nymphs at Play. 
 
 II. The Survival of the Fittest. 
 
 III. Two June Brides. 
 
 IV. The Summer Passes. 
 V. Gathering Clouds. 
 
 VI. In the Valley of Shadows. 
 
 VII. Dixie Miller. 
 
 VIII. Little Jim. 
 
 IX. Allie's Release. 
 
 X. A Startling Revelation. 
 
 XL Dixie's Promise. 
 
 XII. The Price Maury Paid. 
 
 XIII. John Patterson. 
 
 XIV. An Old Clipping. 
 XV. The First Campaign. 
 
 XVI. The House of Healing. 
 
 XVII. Drury Patterson, M. D. 
 
 XVIII. A Ray of Light! for Drury. 
 
 XIX. "Not Until I Find Out." 
 
 XX. The Second Campaign. 
 
 XXI. Jack Miller's Love. 
 
 XXII. New Wine in Old Bottles. 
 
 XXIII. The Cyclone. 
 
 XXIV. Mrs. Patterson's Journal. 
 XXV. Drury's Quest. 
 
 XXVI. Realized Dreams. 
 
 XXVII. Jim Miller's Revenge.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WATER-NYMPHS AT PLAY. 
 
 It was early morning, and nature was just 
 waking up to greet the sun, which was threat- 
 ening to make his appearance over the eastern 
 hilltops. A squirrel was chattering in a pecan- 
 tree, and a mocking- bird, which had been singing 
 to his mate all night, was making the grove 
 across the creek ring with his wondrous melody. 
 More than a mile away, on an eminence to the 
 northwest, the big, deep-toned bell in the tower 
 of the Convent, Villa Maria, was calling the 
 students to early mass, and the distance so 
 softened and mellowed the tones that they fitted 
 harmoniously into the music of the beautiful 
 morning. 
 
 The Miller twins had returned from an Eastern 
 college a year before, with "notions in dey 
 haids," as old Rilla, their negro nurse, had de- 
 clared ; and one of these notions had been a bath- 
 house at the big spring, which came boiling up 
 through the white sand on their father's ranch. 
 The water was the same temperature the year 
 around, and the girls had never failed to take 
 their refreshing morning bath, even on the few 
 mornings there had been ice in the creek. They 
 were in the'water now, and Rilla was sitting on 
 the steps watching them. 
 
 "I declar' ter goodness," Rilla exclaimed, "ef 
 y'all could only see how lubly an' beautiful you 
 are in that cl'ar watah, Y'all would jes' have
 
 10 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 spells an' spells. Y'all 'minds me o' that paintin' 
 what Mis' Clarissa made an' calls it 'Water- 
 Nimfses.' But, da'lin's, ain't that watah too col'? 
 I knows I'd freeze to def ef I was to stick jes' 
 one foot in dar. Y'all makes me hab a chill jes' 
 a watchin' you." 
 
 "Why, Mammy, you make that same speech, 
 and ask that same question, every time we come 
 down here. You have been attending us at our 
 morning baths for nearly a year, and you always 
 ask, 'Ain't it col'?' No, we are used to it, and 
 would not miss it for anything," Jessie replied. 
 
 "And you think we are 'perfec'ly lubly and 
 beautiful" in the water, do you, Mammy?" Allie 
 asked. 
 
 "Deed I does, baby-chile. That watah is so 
 cl'ar I kin see the seams in y'all's bathin'-suits, 
 and the stitches in yo' hoses. Ef y'all was to 
 drap a pin in thar, I could see it from he-er." 
 
 "O then it is the water that is so lovely and 
 beautiful, instead of us, is it?" 
 
 "Go 'long now, Miss Allie. You allus is a 
 catchin' up yo' po' black mammy that a way. You 
 knows I neber did see no one in all the whole 
 world as purty as my baby twins. You is jes' 
 fishin' fer a complement, ain't she, Miss Jessie?" 
 
 But Jessie's gossamer-clad head was under the 
 water, and she could not hear the question that 
 clearly revealed the black nurse's favorite. 
 
 It was an inspiring picture that left nothing 
 wanting to satisfy the heart of artist or poet. 
 The time and the season, the place \and its 
 wooded environment, the soft morning light and
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 11 
 
 the chatter of the birds, the two white girls in 
 the water and the black woman on the steps, the 
 fading shadows and the rippling waves, combined 
 to lavish the participants with health and beauty, 
 and leave memories that time could hot erase. 
 
 An onlooker would have been forced to pro- 
 phesy that nothing but happiness could ever 
 come to the twins 
 
 As the two young ladies came dripping up the 
 steps to their dressing-rooms, Rilla began again: 
 "I declar' ter goodness, y'all is gettin' purtier 
 every day; and I jes' kain't onderstand how 'tis 
 you is so healthy with all this foolishness o' 
 jumpin' into col' watah in the early mawnin,' 
 when the balance of the white folks is still in 
 they beds." 
 
 "Hurry, Mammy. It isn't the plunge that in- 
 jures one's health; it is being slow about getting 
 into warm garments afterward." 
 
 "I is hurryin', Miss Jessie, yessum; but I jes' 
 must talk whilst I works ; I kin work better 
 when I is talkin' or singin'. Thar, now. Come 
 along, Miss Allie, honey, an' lemme he'p y'all. 
 Lawdy! but my babies shore is purty, outen the 
 watah as well as in it. Umph ! No wonder to 
 me Marse Jim is so foolish about his twins." 
 
 The old negro had been in the Miller family 
 all her life, having come with them from Ken- 
 tucky, and she was so thoroughly devoted to 
 each of them that there was no offense in her 
 familiar talk; indeed, it was the devotion of a 
 voluntary slave who would rather serve them 
 than have a mansion and servants of her own.
 
 12 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 As the young ladies left the stone bath-house, 
 the sun was tinting the clouds a beautiful roseate, 
 and the dewdrops were catching the light and 
 reflecting it like myriads of diamonds along the 
 pathway. Again, the distant bell at Villa Maria 
 was intoning its music, the mocking-bird had 
 ceased to sing; but the laughter of children 
 floated across the fields from the near-by town, 
 where they were finding colored eggs in the wet 
 grass, for it was Easter morning. 
 
 As they approached the big house that was 
 near enough to the city to be called a suburban 
 residence, a lusty boy, freckled, and almost red- 
 haired, came bounding down the path, barefooted 
 and bare-headed. 
 
 "Hello, Jack," called Jessie. "Where are you 
 going with that bathing-suit this time of day?" 
 
 "I am going to try your plan of ducking my- 
 self every morning to see if it will make me 
 stronger and healthier, as it has you girls." 
 
 "Well, I never!" Allie exclaimed. "Only yes- 
 terday, you were making fun of us for riding 
 this hobby, and here you are trying to push us 
 off so you can ride yourself !" 
 
 "Jes' as I told you," grumbled old Rilla; "it's 
 ketchin'. Why, fust thing we know, little Dixie 
 will be takin' up with it, an' who knows whar it 
 will end ! But go on, go on ; ef y'all like it, I 
 reckon I kin stand it." 
 
 But Jack was running down the path with a 
 jolly laugh that made the glorious morning even 
 brighter as the twins looked after him. He was 
 their only brother, and the baby of the family,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 13 
 
 and was idolized by every member of the house- 
 hold, as well as by the servants on the ranch. 
 
 While they still stood looking after the fast 
 disappearing red-brown head of the boy, a man's 
 voice called from an upper balcony: "Good 
 morning, kids. How's the bathing this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 "Perfectly delightful, Father, dear," replied 
 Jessie. 
 
 "Better go and try for yourself," Allie bantered. 
 
 "No, thank you, I will take your word for it, 
 babies, I suspect I was bathed too much when 
 I was a child, as I have never liked the water 
 since. Hi, there, Sam!" he broke off, looking 
 toward the barn. "What are you doing?" 
 
 "Fse tryin' to ketch this runty pig what you 
 tol' me to 'spose of, Marse Jim." 
 
 "Don't you know this is Sunday, you black 
 scamp? I told you to do that yesterday. Just 
 let it alone today, and you had better look spry, 
 or I'll make you go to the ranch, and give Steve 
 your place at the barn." 
 
 "Why, Daddy, are you going to have him kill 
 a little pig just because it happens to be smaller 
 than its mates?" asked Allie, in alarm. 
 
 "No, baby, I have no idea he will kill it; he 
 will likely sell it to some shiftless negro in town. 
 But I will not allow it to stay on the ranch. 
 This is one, place where we really practice the 
 doctrine of the 'survival of the fittest.' But run 
 along now and get ready for breakfast; your 
 mother wants to get an early start, so we can
 
 14 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 drive over and put some flowers on your grand- 
 parents' graves before going to church." 
 
 All this time, Rilla had been standing at a re- 
 spectful distance, muttering to herself: "Now 
 jes' look at them twins! I never did see twins 
 look so much onlike afore. Miss Jessie is 'Night,' 
 and Miss Allie is 'Mornin',' when you looks at 
 'em; but, when you knows 'em, they is both 
 sunshine an' lily-buds, even ef I does lub Miss 
 Jessie the bes'. But whyso shouldn't I, seein' 
 she is the very picter of good ol' Mistus what's 
 a sleepin' in the col,' col' ground out yonder in 
 the simitry ! They is both angels ; that's what 
 they is, and they is too good to be thinkin' o' 
 marryin' the po' white trash what is a comin' to 
 see 'em. I don't know what Marse Jim an' Mis' 
 Mollie can be a thinkin' 'bout to 'low them po' 
 honies to go mixin' up with their onequals. I 
 knows what I knows, umph-umph, an' that Mis- 
 tah Tallman ain't fitten for Miss Jessie to wipe 
 her little shoes on, ef she on'y knowed it. An* 
 that Mistah Wright makes me think o' them men 
 figgers they got in the winders o' that big store 
 in town. An' him a lettin' on he cum down here 
 to buy hosses ! No, sir, he cum to carry Miss 
 Allie off with him, an' he ain't any mo' fitten 
 than Mistah Tallman." 
 
 As the twins went up the stairs, Dixie, stand- 
 ing at the top, saw the sunlight fall on Allie's 
 hair as the latter passed the window at the land- 
 ing, and called: "Wait, Allie! O step back by 
 that window. There. Come up here, Jessie, and 
 look at it. Isn't it the most beautiful hair in the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 15 
 
 world? The sun makes the bronze coils look al- 
 most red. Isn't it beautiful !" 
 
 "Yes, Dixie, almost as beautiful as your wealth 
 of jet black," and Jessie caught the dark beauty 
 in her arms and kissed her again and again. 
 
 Allie came and joined her in caressing the 
 seventeen-year-old girl. Jessie's hair, between 
 the black and the bronze, struck a happy 
 medium of dark brown. None of the faces were 
 alike ; indeed, a stranger would scarcely have dis- 
 covered a family resemblance. Jessie's eyes 
 were blue, Allie's brown, and Dixie's dark gray. 
 The twins had pink skin ; Dixie's was as white as 
 alabaster* noV too thin, but Jgiving her mis- 
 chievous brother an almost irresistible desire to 
 pinch her every time she came within reach. 
 
 At the moment the heads were all together, 
 the mother came into the hall. She was a beau- 
 tiful woman, whose maternity seemed to have 
 given her queenliness without robbing her of 
 youth. She was tall, graceful, and just large enough 
 to indicate superb health and a jolly disposition, 
 with light brown hair, blue eyes, olive com- 
 plexion, and full, warm lips. She looked more 
 like a sister than the mother of the girls as she 
 kissed each and bade them make haste and come 
 down to breakfast. 
 
 Jim Miller was fifty-five years old, the son of an 
 honored minister, who had been chaplain of a 
 Kentucky regiment during the war of the sixties, 
 and who ha.d been killed in battle, while minister- 
 ing to the wounded, leaving his wife with a small 
 farm, a heav> mortgage, and four children. Jim,
 
 16 JIM MILLER'S GflRLS 
 
 then a black-haired, gray-eyed, sturdy boy of 
 fourteen, immediately left school and took charge 
 of things with the avowed purpose of taking 
 care of his mother and three sisters. It was no 
 handicap to him that the Millers had prided 
 themselves on their pluck and indomitable will- 
 power for generations, while the Logans, his 
 mother's people, were among the pioneers that 
 had followed George Rogers Clark to Kentucky, 
 and had gone with him against Old Vincennes. 
 When Jim was twenty-two, his mother had died 
 and his sisters were married; the mortgage had 
 been paid off, and the farm was well stocked 
 with the finest horses in Kentucky. Then, Jim 
 had won and married Mollie Richards, and, after 
 the twins were born, he had moved his family 
 to the great Southwest, where lands were cheap, 
 and interest in fine stock enabled him to make a 
 real success in raising and selling the best. The 
 waters of the Tamalpias Valley had attracted 
 him, and he had bought the ranch that included 
 the over-flowing springs that furnished water 
 for the large town of the same name. Already, 
 the town was becoming a watering-place, and it 
 was also attaining an unenviable reputation as 
 a resort for gamblers and race-track men. There 
 was a good track, and races were held both in 
 the spring and in the fall. 
 
 The breakfast-bell rang, and Jim Miller joined 
 his girls in the hall, and went down-stairs with 
 them. He was such a man as any young lady 
 might well be proud to call "Father" in any 
 company; more than six feet tall, his once-black
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 17 
 
 hair now an attractive iron-gray, a closely 
 cropped mustache, shaggy brows, large, thick 
 ears with long lobes, an amused expression 
 lurking about the generous mouth, large hands, 
 which, although rough, were well cared for, a 
 free and easy movement that proclaimed the 
 utter absence of dissipation, and a sparkle in his 
 dark eyes that belongs to the optimist. 
 
 As they entered the spacious dining-room, Jack 
 came bounding in, his eyes beaming and his hair 
 tousled, shouting: "Why, girls, that's the most 
 fun I have had since Fido was a pup ! I wouldn't 
 take a team of June-bugs for the time I have had 
 this morning. I am going down there every 
 morning after this. Dad, you ought to go along ; 
 I just hit it head first, and never was cold after 
 that. Wish I had known how fine it was a long 
 time ago." 
 
 "There, now, Son, run along and get ready for 
 breakfast, quickly; you will make us late," ad- 
 monished Mrs. Miller, and Jack hurried up-stairs, 
 but was down again before they had risen from 
 the table. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, and this was a happy 
 family within whose circle love and mutual ad- 
 miration abounded. The trip to the cemetery 
 was made before going to the church, and the 
 graves of Mrs. Miller's parents were covered 
 with flowers ; they had spent their last days with 
 this, their only daughter, and had died just the 
 year before. Then, the family drove to the church 
 of the denomination in which Jim's father had 
 been an honored minister.
 
 18 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Many of the gathering congregation failed to 
 conceal their admiration for the splendid family, 
 and they were outspoken in their praise of the 
 team of big blood-bays "the Colonel," as they 
 called Jim, was driving. Jim seemed to expect 
 and enjoy both kinds of appreciation ; he was 
 fond of his family and proud of his horses, and 
 he was never so pleased as when he knew that 
 both were recognized. This pride of fine horses 
 and beautiful women was the Kentucky charac- 
 teristic that won for him the title of "Colonel." 
 
 It was a, wonderful congregation that greeted 
 the minister that Easter morning. The women, 
 young and old, came fully up to the reputation 
 of their sex in the South for both beauty and 
 daintiness of attire. The millinery was equal to 
 that worn in the largest cities on the same day, 
 and no one could have guessed that poverty, 
 suffering, disappointment, or heartaches had ever 
 touched a member of this Easter congregation. 
 Even the men were above the average in intel- 
 ligence, bearing, and signs of health and pros- 
 perity. The beautiful stone building was crowded, 
 and chairs were placed in the aisles. The ros- 
 trum was banked with white roses, lillies, and 
 carnations, and ferns were on pedestals here and 
 there. 
 
 The twins were ushered to the choir, while 
 Dixie and Jack were seated with their parents. 
 An intelligent observer would have noticed the 
 pride showing in Jim Miller's face as the voices 
 of the twins were heard above the others, Jessie 
 singing soprano, and Allie a full, rich alto. Nor
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 19 
 
 was he the only jealous and prejudiced listener. 
 Maury Tallman, the assistant cashier of the First 
 National Bank, was seated in the rear of the 
 church, where he could get an occasional glimpse 
 of Jessie through the billows of hats, and his 
 face glowed with joy as he remembered that she 
 had given him permission to speak to her father. 
 
 The minister had said to his wife the day 
 before: "I am sure there is an understanding 
 between Maury Tallman and Jessie Miller, and I 
 do not know whether to be pleased or not. He 
 is of a type that will either make the woman he 
 loves supremely happy, or she will become his 
 slave. He is moral ; but, somehow, I do not like 
 the type. I fear he will never be spiritual and 
 temperate enough to make her happy." 
 
 "Yes," she had replied; "but he is refined, and 
 has intelligence enough to balance all that. I 
 predict that Mr. Miller will approve of him, and 
 you know his judgment is good and can be relied 
 on. Jessie is so religious that I am sure she will 
 develop his spiritual nature." 
 
 But ihey were not given to gossip, and the 
 subject was dropped. 
 
 Across the aisle from the Millers sat Maxwell 
 Wright. While it did not show in his face, he 
 was as much pleased with the appearance and 
 
 Performance of Allie as were the others with 
 essie. He was a stranger in Tamalpias, having 
 come there with a stable of race-horses that had 
 won several prizes the fall before, and returning 
 a week before Easter for the ostensible purpose 
 of buying a pacer owned by Jim Miller, but in 
 reality to see the stockman's daughter, Allie. He
 
 20 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 was non-communicative, but was easily identified 
 as a native of the East by his speech and manner. 
 He was of the type that shrewd men take under 
 suspicion until they learn what the game is, but 
 just the kind that a woman will become un- 
 reasonable about when once she has taken a 
 fancy to him. 
 
 After the services were concluded, the twins 
 excused themselves to their parents and were 
 soon being driven homeward by their admirers, 
 Mr. Tallman and Mr. Wright. Mrs. Miller in- 
 vited the young men to stay for the Southern one 
 o'clock dinner, and Maury Tallman accepted the 
 hospitality graciously, and as a matter of course ; 
 but Mr. Wright excused himself, saying that he 
 had an engagement. It was evident that he did 
 not considered it conventional to remain. So, 
 having made an engagement with Allie to drive 
 with him that afternoon, he returned to his hotel. 
 
 Maury Tallman had heard his mother tell one 
 of her friends that, when she wanted a new 
 bonnet, she always gave her husband a good 
 dinner before mentioning the fact. Remember- 
 ing this, and deeming it good advice for the 
 matter in hand, he said as they rose from the 
 dinner-table : 
 
 "I haven't seen that new colt I have heard so 
 much about, Mr. Miller." 
 
 "All right, come with me and I will show you 
 the best piece of horse-flesh for its age, this side 
 of Kentucky. I am sure you will agree with me 
 when you see him, if you have studied stock." 
 
 "No, sir, I am not much judge of horses until 
 I see them on the track."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST. 
 
 Maury Tallman found it difficult to lead up to 
 the subject he wanted to talk to Jim Miller 
 about, because the latter was so enthusiastic about 
 his stock. 
 
 "Just look at that colt ! He's only three weeks 
 old, but he is as large and active as most colts 
 twice that age. He is sure to take the prize at 
 the Fair this fall, if he lives to get there. But 
 why shouldn't he? He has a pedigree that runs 
 back at least ten generations on both sides, and 
 all of his ancestors have made good." 
 
 "But you sold the last colt by his dam for 
 almost nothing, did you not?" 
 
 "Sure. When I found that there was a bad 
 place in the pedigree of her sire, and that she was 
 giving signs of breeding back to the faults of the 
 sire of her sire's dam, I did not have room on 
 this ranch for her. I don't allow any scrubs on 
 this place horse, cow, chicken, nor even dog. 
 What is the use of breeding scrubs when it does 
 not cost a cent more to keep pure breeds? I 
 have all the runts and defective animals and 
 fowls on this place sold, given away, or killed 
 immediately, lest they perpetuate their imper- 
 fections. And I do not like scrub men, either. 
 If there is anything I do admire, it is a manly 
 man, or a womanly woman." 
 
 Tallman was somewhat abashed at this last 
 remark ; but his ready wit, which had helped
 
 22 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 him out of many a tight place, came to his relief, 
 and he replied with a laugh : "Well, you are 
 certainly giving the world a fine example of all 
 you have been saying. You have put your theory 
 of the survival of the fittest into practice on your 
 ranch; you are one of the most manly men I 
 ever knew, and your wife and three daughters 
 are truly queenly women." 
 
 "Thank you, Tallman, I will agree with you 
 on the first and last propositions; but I can only 
 return the compliment about the other." 
 
 This was better than the young man had 
 reckoned, and he hastened to take the advantage 
 it offered. 
 
 "By the way, Mr. Miller, I suspect you have 
 noticed that I have been quite attentive to Miss 
 Jessie since she returned from the East. Well, 
 I have her permission to tell you that there is 
 an understanding between us, and that we want 
 your consent to start a home of our own. You 
 are acquainted with my family, you know of my 
 financial standing, and I leave you to judge of 
 my attainments and manhood. I love your 
 daughter very dearly, and will try to make her a 
 good husband if you will allow me to come into the 
 family." 
 
 Jim Miller looked far away to the southwest, 
 where a gray cloud was dropping an April 
 shower on Bachelor Peak, and the moisture came 
 into his eyes. He did not answer immediately ; 
 but, when he did, he looked the young man full 
 in the eyes and said in a tone that betrayed his 
 deep feeling:
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 23 
 
 "Yes, I have noticed your attentions, and I 
 have been expecting something like this to hap- 
 pen ; but it is mighty hard to think of giving up 
 one of my girls You can not know what it 
 means until you are called on to do it. I have 
 weighed the matter, and have talked with my 
 wife about it. We believe you to be all right, 
 and that you will cherish our child as your own 
 life. I would not give her to a scrub, nor would 
 I give her to a man that I doubted would make 
 her happy. Take her, but please remember that 
 she is as dear to me as life itself, and I would 
 avenge a wrong done her, under any and all 
 circumstances. Promise me you will never cause 
 her a moment's unnecessary sorrow." 
 
 "I thank you for the confidence, and I promise 
 you most solemnly that I will cherish her and 
 make her happy. I have been a little wild, as 
 most men have ; but I shall never be untrue to 
 Jessie in the most trivial matter." 
 
 "I believe you, my boy. Now run on to her, 
 and let me go and make that nigger water this 
 mare." 
 
 Maury found her in a lawn-swing among the 
 shrubbery, and related to her his interview with 
 her father. 
 
 "And now you must name the day, and make 
 it right soon, Little Queen; for I should like to 
 take you abroad for the summer." 
 
 "Oh ! Why, you silly boy, it never could be 
 that soon." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I must wait for Allie. We can never be
 
 24 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 separated until we both marry; it must be a 
 double wedding." 
 
 "But what if Maxwell does not come to the 
 point?" 
 
 "Never fear. There they go now, and I would 
 wager you a kiss that he proposes before they 
 'return, and that she accepts him, too." 
 
 "Done! And you might just as well give me 
 the kiss now ; for, you see, I win if I lose." 
 
 "Rascal! I hadn't thought of that." 
 
 "But suppose your father objects?" 
 
 "To the kiss!" 
 
 "No, to the other son-in-law, teaser." 
 
 "Suppose he did; do you think Allie would 
 throw Maxwell over?" 
 
 "I hope she would not marry against her 
 father's will/' 
 
 "So do I; but she is mightily set on marrying 
 him, if he asks her, and he is the kind of man, 
 and she is the kind of woman, that 'laughs at 
 locksmiths.' " 
 
 He was silent for a time, and she offered him 
 a penny for his thoughts. 
 
 "I was just wondering what we would have 
 done had your father given me a different answer 
 a while ago." 
 
 "O, but there was never any question about 
 your being acceptable to my family. It is dif- 
 ferent with Mr. Wright." 
 
 "What does your mother think of him?" 
 
 "She has only one serious objection, so far as 
 I know, and that is that he is a Northern man. 
 You know how prejudiced we all are on that line
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 25 
 
 Mother says little, but I am sure she would 
 much prefer that we all marrv Southern men." 
 
 "I am glad I am a Southern man." 
 
 "So am I, you great big boy !" 
 
 "Are you sorry I am so large, Little Queen?" 
 
 "I would not have you otherwise than as you 
 are for anything in the world." 
 
 "Not even my mouth, which is so large there 
 had to be a big nose to shade it?" 
 
 "If you do not quit slandering my lover, I am 
 going to turn you out." 
 
 Just then, Dixie came on them and was about 
 to turn away embarrassed, when Jessie called 
 her, and said: 
 
 "Dixie, you are to be the first to share our 
 joy. Father has just given his consent for me 
 to marry Maury. Are you glad to have him for a 
 brother?" 
 
 "Yes, if Daddy is willing, it must be all right," 
 and Dixie advanced and gave Tallman her hand. 
 
 "You must believe in your father, Dixie," sug- 
 gested the young man. 
 
 "Believe in him ! Of course, I do. We all do. 
 Why, Daddy is the best man living, and I know 
 that what he thinks, is all right." 
 
 "Well, you can't know how glad I am he thinks 
 me all right. Won't you give your new brother 
 a kiss?" 
 
 "No, sir! There will be time enough for that 
 when you are my brother." 
 
 "Good for you ! I like that, and I like my new 
 sister the better for having such high priniciples. 
 Stick to them and you will never be sorry."
 
 26 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Tallman. I think a kiss is 
 too sacred to be given or taken lightly, and I 
 am told that they are more appreciated when 
 they are hard to get; just like the trout in the 
 creek down yonder. Not much is said when one 
 lands _ a five-pound cat; but a trout half that 
 weight is talked of for a week after the catch." 
 
 "What a philosopher my little sister is !" 
 
 "Better wait until the wedding is over, Mr. 
 Tallman," and Dixie left the lovers to their 
 planning and went to play with the white rabbits 
 in their clover patch. 
 
 When Allie and Maxwell Wright returned 
 from their drive, the sun was gathering the cur- 
 tains of night about him and taking his evening 
 plunge into a sea of crimson and gold. It was 
 immediately apparent to the couple still in the 
 swing that something very pleasing and impor- 
 tant had taken place ; and the twins understood 
 each other so well that it was unnecessary for 
 Jessie to explain how matters stood with her and 
 Maury. Again, Mr. Wright was asked to stay 
 to supper, but he politely declined to do so. Not 
 even when Maury told him it would be the oc- 
 casion of his engagement being announced to 
 the family, would he consent to remain, and he 
 drove off, saying that he would come over later. 
 
 In their room that night, the twins discussed 
 their love-affairs with perfect frankness. Both 
 were inclined to the opinion that their father 
 would be slow to give his consent to the marriage 
 of Allie and Mr. Wright, and Jessie, apprehen-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 27 
 
 sive of the result, asked Allie what she would 
 do in that event. 
 
 "Why, marry him anyway. If Father and 
 Mother do not consent, it will be only because 
 of sectional prejudice, and that is silly, not to 
 say wicked." 
 
 "But, Allie, dear, you know so little about him ; 
 and how can you be entirely sure he is worthy, 
 and will make you a faithful and loving hus- 
 band?" 
 
 "Just as you are sure of Maury Tallman's 
 virtues. And, more than that, I would marry 
 him if all the world was against us. He asked 
 me what I would do if the family was not willing, 
 and I told him I would go to the smallest island 
 of the sea, or to an adobe house in Mexico with 
 him, and I would !" 
 
 "I dislike to hear you talk that way, darling. 
 It is premature even to think such thoughts until 
 he asks Father. When is he going to interview 
 him?" 
 
 "I don't know. He dreads it ; but I urged him 
 to do it right away. I hope it will be all right, 
 and we can have a double wedding in the church. 
 Wouldn't that be grand !" 
 
 "Yes, that is just what Maury and I want. He 
 asked me to name a day in June, and proposed 
 that we go abroad for the summer You know 
 how much I have wanted to visit Holland and 
 Switzerland. He has been there, and listening to 
 his fine descriptions of the countries and the 
 people has made me very anxious to go."
 
 28 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Maxwell asked me to name a day in June, 
 too." 
 
 "And did he propose a European trip?" 
 
 "No, he suggested that we go to some wonder- 
 ful lakes and streams in Canada, where he has 
 often spent the season fishing and hunting." 
 
 "I dislike the thought of giving up our good 
 home, and am distressed with the idea of our 
 being separated when we have always been to- 
 gether ; but the thought of life with the man one 
 loves eclipses everything else." 
 
 Far into the night, the girls talked. Jessie was 
 the first to fall asleep, and her dreams were all 
 happy. When Allie at last slept, it was the fitful 
 sleeping and waking of one who is troubled ; but, 
 finally, her slumber was deep enough for dreams, 
 and she was driving with Maxwell Wright over 
 roads where there were broken bridges, gates to 
 be opened, and rough places to impede their 
 progress. At last, it seemed that he gave her 
 the reins and got out to open a gate; the horse 
 was fretful and hard to hold, her hands were 
 tired, and she was about to let the horse get 
 beyond control, when she was awakened by 
 Jessie's warm kisses on her face. 
 
 Day after day, for a week, Maxwell Wright 
 put off the interview with Jim Miller. When he 
 did bring himself to speak, he found his fears 
 that there would be objection well founded. 
 Neither the father nor the mother liked the idea 
 of giving their daughter to a man of whom they 
 knew so little, and whose habits and training 
 were so different from hers. If he had talked
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 29 
 
 plainly to Maury Tallman, Jim spoke more freely 
 to Maxwell Wright; and that young man was 
 not open and sincere as Maury had been. His 
 words were smooth ; but Jim Miller had studied 
 horses and men all his life to some purpose, and 
 he told him plainly that he believed his habits 
 to be bad, and that he was uneasy about the 
 future happiness of his child if she married him. 
 
 The conversation ended by the father saying 
 he would consider the matter and give his answer 
 later. Mrs. Miller told her husband that, while 
 she was not heartily in favor of the young man, 
 she feared Allie was so deeply in love with him 
 that they would find it difficult to break up the 
 affair. She advised him to write to the references 
 Wright had given him, and find out how he stood 
 at home. This he did, and, within a week, he 
 had replies from a banker, a minister, and the 
 mayor of the town. The banker reported him 
 to be a man of means and with business integ- 
 rity; the minister said that the Wrights were 
 members of. his, church, and he hoped that Max- 
 well would soon come into the flock; the mayor 
 was enthusiastic, and warmly recommended him 
 for "anything he wants, up to the Presidency." 
 
 In the meantime, Allie has become more in- 
 fatuated than ever, and was bold to declare her 
 preference before the family, and even to plan 
 for the wedding and her future. Thus it came to 
 pass that the parents gave their consent to the 
 marriage; and they did it heartily, for they were 
 taking a son into the family as well as giving 
 a daughter away. It was characteristic of the
 
 30 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 family that all followed the example 'of the 
 parents in making everything pleasant for the 
 newcomer. 
 
 It was arranged that the wedding of the twins 
 should take place on the twenty-fourth of June, 
 St. John's Day, in the beautiful stone church, and 
 the engagements were announced at a luncheon 
 the first week in May. 
 
 Mr. Wright returned to his home in New 
 York, and Allie wove love into the stitches as 
 she sewed by day, and dreamed of being with 
 her lover in the wilds of Canada, by night. The 
 dreams were seldom troubled now, just an oc- 
 casional drive when Maxwell would get out and 
 leave her to hold the reins over the fretful horse 
 that always threatened to run away with her; 
 and it was always the same in detail, even to the 
 fact that she would awaken just as she felt she 
 must give up and let the horse run. 
 
 Contrary to the adage, nothing came to cause 
 a ripple in the love of Jessie and Maury, not 
 even a lover's quarrel. Old Rilla mentioned it one 
 day, saying: 
 
 "Listen to your ol' mammy, honey-chile. 
 Them as has no fuss afore they's married, allus 
 has 'em arterwards. An' it's bes' to have one 
 or two afore the weddin', jes' to see how you is 
 goin' about settlin' 'em at last." 
 
 "But, Mammy, we are different from other 
 people; we are never, never going to have a 
 quarrel." 
 
 "Hump! Now that jes' sounds like they all 
 says it; 'we is different from other folks, never
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 31 
 
 is gwine to have no quarrelin'.' Den, they goes 
 and quarrels jes' the same, on'y they tries to 
 keep it to theyselves. Lawdy, chile, I seen 'em." 
 
 But Jessie kept her own counsel. She knew 
 that her love and lover were different from any- 
 thing that had ever been, and she was supremely 
 happy. 
 
 The announcement of the double wedding 
 created a sensation in social circles, and opinions 
 differed widely concerning the marriage of one 
 of the Miller twins to the stranger from New 
 York. For these were days when prejudices still 
 ran high when any one or anything revived the 
 question of North or South, and Maxwell Wright 
 was from north of the Mason and Dixon line. 
 Old Doctor McConnel was first to mention the 
 matter to Jim Miller, and he did it in a very 
 gentle way. 
 
 "I am sorry," he said, "that one of your girls 
 is going away from us, Jim. You will pardon 
 my frankness, but I don't like young Wright. 
 He seems tricky to me, and I am sure he must 
 nave sown quite a crop of wild oats." 
 
 "I suspect that is true," Jim Miller replied, and 
 the lines tightened about his mouth ; "but, then, 
 they all do that these days, and, if a girl waited 
 for a man who had never sowed wild oats, she 
 would go unwed to her grave; isn't it so?" 
 
 "Hardly, I believe; but almost so. Very few 
 men keep clean these days. And it is a shame." 
 
 "I grant you that, Doctor; but the race seems 
 to get on just the same. You do not think there
 
 32 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 is anything more than a moral question in it, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes, we are learning that many things find 
 their origin in the profligate living of our young. 
 But we are just waking up and beginning our 
 investigations along these lines." 
 
 They were interrupted just then, and, although 
 Jim Miller determined to ask the Doctor some 
 further questions, time slipped by, and the whole 
 matter was forgotten. In after days, he re- 
 membered, and that is why this story is written.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TWO JUNE BRIDES. 
 
 June is the most trying month in the year in 
 the Southwest. The days are long and sultry; 
 the winds seem to have arranged an armistice 
 after the fierce battle they have been having for 
 three months, and the terrible calm of the morn- 
 ings, the shimmering heat of noonday, and the 
 heavy, perfume-laden atmosphere of the late eve- 
 ning, drive those citizens who are able to go, 
 to the mountains of the west or the lakes of the 
 north by the middle of the month. The schools 
 are out, the crops are laid by, and those who have 
 supported the churches with their money seem 
 to think that it is no more than right that those 
 who can not take a vacation should attend to the 
 revivals, which, by the way, are always held in 
 midsummer. There is nothing more desolate 
 than such a town emptied of its women and chil- 
 dren, leaving the men to attend to what little 
 business there may be goin on. However, the 
 approaching wedding of the Miller twins had 
 kept all their friends in Tamalpias, although it 
 was past the middle of the month. 
 
 The heat-wave had been long and torrid; but 
 it was broken by a shower on Thursday, and the 
 cloudiness increased until the skies were hidden 
 by a solid canopy of gray all day Sunday. When 
 Rilla called the twins to go for their baths Mon- 
 day morning, she explained: 
 
 "It's jes' too bad! He-er's my sweet baby-
 
 34 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 chillern to get married at noon, an' they's not 
 narry star to be seed. I sholy did want my 
 honey-babies to have a putty day to git off in ; 
 but it's jes' as liable to rain ag'in as not. Come 
 on, da'lin's, le's go down an' take yo' baths the 
 las' time yo' po' black mammy will ever he'p 
 y'all. O my Gawd, how's I gwine to stan' it?" 
 
 "There, there, Mammy, we will come back and 
 bother you lots of times," consoled Allie. 
 
 "Tain't no bother. Who said it is bother? 
 Y'al never is been no bother to nobody." 
 
 "Stop Rilla, or you will spoil our wedding- 
 day," warned Jessie, as they walked to the bath- 
 house. 
 
 "Yessum, I isn't gwine to say another word 
 ef I kin he'p myself. Go 'long now and take your 
 plunge, an' be happy as that mocking-bird what 
 is singin' in that pecan-tree over there, same as 
 he allus is, jes, as ef he was a doin' it fer y'all, 
 special." 
 
 The pool was built directly over the springs, 
 and the white sand kept boiling up in a hundred 
 places. The water was about four feet deep, and 
 had just enough mineral in it to make it as clear 
 as crystal. There were several small fish in the 
 pool and one could see them anywhere in the 
 water. 
 
 In the early dawn of this June morning, the 
 twins made a romantic picture sporting in the 
 beautiful pool, while the black nurse sat on the 
 steps and talked to herself, as was her habit. The 
 twins had tried to teach her to speak proper 
 English, with the result that she spoke some-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 35 
 
 what correctly one time, and lapsed into her 
 dialect another. But, when stirred by emotion 
 or talking to herself, she made no attempt to 
 use their "sawsiety palaver," as she called it. 
 Now, amid groans and grunts and rolling her 
 eyes back and forth, she was giving vent to her 
 feelings. 
 
 "Umph! Bress dey h'arts, dey is de sweetes' 
 angel-chillun dat eber wuz bawned inter dis po' 
 sinful worl'. O Gawd, whyn't You gib 'em a 
 cla'r bride's-day? Nuffin' but clouds an' dawk- 
 ness, an' that means sorrer an' trouble fer my 
 angel-twins. How's I gwine ter stan' it? I jes' 
 knows day's sumpin' orfel gwine ter happen ; I 
 jes' feels it in my bones. I'se not gwine to come 
 down he'er no mo'. O Lawd, I jes' wants Gab- 
 riel ter come on an' take this po' niggah home 
 soon's my po' babies is done leeb me. Seem lak 
 it am dey funimal 'stid ob dey weddin'. O 
 La-a-awd, hab mercy on us all." The grief of 
 the old nurse was pathetic to behold. 
 
 Evidently, the, twins did not share her super- 
 stitions, or, if they did, they were not impressed 
 with them, for they laughed as gaily, and played 
 in the water as friskily, as they had ever done. In- 
 deed, their laughter seemed to have awakened 
 an extra squirrel or two, and the mocking-bird 
 was doing his utmost. When they came to the 
 steps, Jessie stopped and looked back at the won- 
 derful pool. 
 
 "Dear old pool," she said, "I wonder if I will 
 find anything like you in all Europe? Come 
 back, Allie, and let us take one more farewell
 
 36 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 plunge. Take my hand and we will jump off head 
 first, as we used to do." 
 
 In they leaped, coming up with jolly laughter, 
 and running immediately to their dressing-rooms, 
 as though they were afraid to look back again. 
 When they reappeared, Jack was standing on a 
 spring-board, throwing marbles into the water. 
 
 "Look, girls. Which one do you want me to 
 bring up, this glassy, this crockey, or this white 
 one?" 
 
 "Throw them all in at once and then bring up 
 the brown crockey," suggested Allie. 
 
 The feat was performed so quickly that it took 
 the fun out of the task. Then, they watched him 
 perform some of the tricks he had learned from 
 Maxwell Wright, who was a "regular fish in the 
 water," as Jack declared. 
 
 At last, they bade the place adieu and went 
 up the dewy path just as the bell at Villa Maria 
 was sending its mellow tones out over the valley 
 as if to lend cheer to the gloomy morning. 
 
 At the breakfast-table, Dixie surprised them 
 all by saying sweetly, and with little embarrass- 
 ment: "Mother, dear, here is a note I received 
 from Drury Patterson this morning; it was in 
 the mail Seth brought up. Shall I answer it?" 
 
 Drury Patterson had lived in Tamalpias four 
 years, and he and Dixie had taken first and second 
 honors in the class that had graduated from the 
 High School three weeks before. Drury had 
 won the State University Scholarship, and Dixie 
 had been awarded one in Barlow College. Drury 
 Patterson's parents were admitted to social
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 37 
 
 circles because Mr. Patterson came of an old 
 family of highly respectable people. He was the 
 last representative of the family, and was much 
 dissipated and improvident. The small fortune 
 inherited from his father was almost gone, and 
 was barely enough now to keep them from actual 
 want. Some years before this chronicle opens, 
 John Patterson had gone away and remained 
 for several years, coming back at the time men- 
 tioned, with a wife and the boy, Drury ; and it 
 did not take the boy long to win a place for him- 
 self by his industry and his excellence in his 
 studies. 
 
 After reading the note, Mrs. Miller said : 
 "Well, that is a nice little note, and I do not see 
 why you should not go to the lecture with him 
 tomorrow night if you care to." 
 
 "Ho, ho ! Dixie is gong to have a beau ! Bet- 
 ter look out, Dad, or you won't have a girl left 
 pretty soon," laughed Jack. 
 
 "Mother, I do not like the idea of Dixie re- 
 ceiving company just now, and especially Drury 
 Patterson. He is a good boy, all right ; but look 
 how his father is going. He has taken the Keeley 
 Cure twice, and, now, he is drinking harder than 
 ever," Jessie protested. 
 
 'But Drury does not drink, and he hates the 
 very smell of whisky," defended Dixie. "I heard 
 him say, at school one day, that he did not see 
 how anybody could like anything that smelled 
 like whisky." 
 
 "What do you think about it, Jim?" asked the 
 mother.
 
 38 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "O I guess it is all right. They are only 
 children, and John Patterson is a pretty good 
 sort of fellow, if he does drink too much some- 
 times." 
 
 "Of course, Dixie, it is only as a schoolmate 
 and young friend that you are to receive Drury, 
 and not as a lover, or anything of that kind." 
 
 "Why, certainly, Mother. I intend to finish 
 Barlow before thinking of lovers." 
 
 "That's right, Baby. Get your education. It 
 will be time enough then to be thinking of affairs 
 of the heart. Three years will make you quite 
 a woman, and I hope you will decide by that 
 time to stay with your daddy many years," and 
 Jim Miller kissed the girl and rose from the table. 
 
 About nine o'clock, there was a rift in the 
 clouds ; but the sun soon hid his face and did not 
 shine again until late in the afternoon. All was 
 hustle and hurry in the Miller home. The ser- 
 vants were almost useless as they went about 
 crying and muttering to themselves and each 
 other about losing the twins, as though they 
 were to be buried, rather than married, that day. 
 The family was cheerful, determined that 'it 
 should be a happy occasion for the brides, un- 
 marred by any show of sorrow on their part. 
 
 When the wedding-party reached the church 
 at high noon, they found the building crowded 
 with friends. The church was most beautifully 
 decorated. The aisles were covered with strips 
 of white cloth that led to the altar just in front 
 of the pulpit, and over the altar swung two floral 
 bells. The altar was covered with bride's roses
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 39 
 
 and white myrtle, and wrought out in rosebuds 
 across it were the words : "They twain shall be 
 one flesh." A padded kneeling-board covered with 
 white satin was placed in front of the altar and 
 a bower for the minister behind it. White rib- 
 bons were festooned along the ends of the pews 
 on both sides of the aisles; arches, at the ends 
 next to the altar, were hung with gates, on which 
 were ribbons with gold letters reading: "For- 
 saking all others," and on the other side, to be 
 read as they retired: "Till death do you part.'" 
 
 Preceding the brides, as they came up the east 
 aisle leaning on the arms of their father, flower- 
 girls strewed white flowers, while the pipe-organ 
 filled the building with the slow music of the 
 Lohengrin Wedding-March. Four bridesmaids 
 followed in pairs. Up the west aisle came Maury 
 Tallman, his large face just serious enough to 
 escape criticism, but with the self-reliance and 
 graceful ease for which he was so well known. 
 With him, as his best man, walked Alfred Pryor, 
 a young attorney. Next came Maxwell Wright, 
 with downcast eyes and embarrassed mien, more 
 faultlessly attired than the other bridegroom, 
 but more self-conscious and ill at ease. With 
 him was John Porter Allen, and following them 
 came Stacy Craddock and William Martin. 
 
 Never had there been such a wedding in 
 Tamalpias, and it was evident, by the glances 
 in her direction, that the audience knew it had 
 all been planned by the minister's wife, who sat 
 half hidden behind a screen of ferns and plants 
 to the left of the altar. But the multitude did
 
 40 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 not know that she was thus stationed that she 
 might prompt minister, brides, or bridegrooms 
 ir case of embarrassment, or forgetfulness. The 
 ceremony had been most carefully rehearsed ; 
 tut she had learned from many experiences to 
 be ready for any emergency. 
 
 The minister was pale and solemn ; but his 
 rich voice was steady and reassuring, and the 
 ceremony was performed without a mistake of 
 any kind. A simple prayer closed the impressive 
 scene. As the prayer was ended, the maids of 
 lionor removed the small face-veils worn by the 
 brides, the plaintive notes of the organ took on 
 more volume, and the brides and bridegrooms 
 rose from their knees and turned to retire. The 
 vision of loveliness caused a sigh of admiration 
 to pass over the vast audience, and the party 
 passed through the gate at the west aisle and 
 were soon seated in John Porter Allen's new 
 automobile. 
 
 It was after two o'clock when the company 
 entered the spacious dining-room at the Miller 
 home and sat down to the wedding-dinner. The 
 brides were now in gray traveling-dresses. The 
 window-shades were drawn, and candles, from 
 chandelier and stick, suffused the scene with 
 mellow light. Gay talk and mild raillery dis- 
 pelled the feeling of sadness that would other- 
 wise have settled like a pall over the hearts of 
 the family, and helped to cover the embarrass- 
 ment of the youngsters that were expected to 
 follow the example of the day in the near future. 
 
 At four o'clock, the twins bade the sobbing
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 41 
 
 servants good-by. Old Rilla cried most pite- 
 ously, and persisted in kissing the hems of the 
 twins' skirts. The whole party guests, parents, 
 and all went to the station, where rice was 
 thrown, and tags were pinned on clothing and 
 baggage, which announced to the world that 
 these were newly-weds. There was much kiss- 
 ing, some tears, promises made to write, and 
 wishes in abundance. As the bell rang, the sun 
 broke through the clouds, and the train pulled 
 out for the East, bearing away happiness that it 
 would never bring back again. 
 
 Drury Patterson was at the station, and, when 
 he saw the tears in Dixie's luminous gray eyes, 
 he spoke to her gently, but with such good humor 
 that she was compelled to smile until there were 
 rainbows on her tears. Indeed, Drury seemed to 
 have the happy faculty of making people forget 
 their sorrows in a moment. He had helped 
 many of his school-mates to bear the disappoint- 
 ment of failing to get a letter or pass an ex- 
 amination. He was a real altruist and made 
 others catch the spirit and see matters in their 
 best light. He was a handsome young fellow, 
 whose face called for a second look. There was 
 a breadth of brow, and an expression on the 
 rather square face that betokened intellect and 
 will-power in splendid balance, with hearty good- 
 fellowship and robust health. His figure was 
 strong and manly, and his bearing dignified, yet 
 not stiff. Jim Miller took special notice of him 
 on this occasion, and concluded that he was just 
 the kind of young man with whom he could
 
 42 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 trust his child. That settled it, and there was 
 never any question raised in the family about 
 Dixie accepting the company of one thus ap- 
 proved by her father. 
 
 Marvin Harris, whose father was a retired 
 capitalist, was also at the station, and saw the 
 brightness come into Dixie's eyes at the gentle 
 words of Drury Patterson, and a pang of jealousy 
 went through him. Drury had beaten him in 
 athletic events, scholarship, and morals, and was 
 now making a beginning with a girl he had 
 loved ever since they were children together. 
 Watching his chance, he drew near, and, after a 
 few commonplace remarks, asked Dixie if she 
 would go to the lecture with him the next night. 
 
 "I thank you, Marvin ; but I have an engage- 
 ment for the lecture." 
 
 "I did not know your parents had given their 
 consent for you to have company." 
 
 "They never had before ; but I had never asked 
 them." 
 
 "O, so you asked them this time, did you ?" 
 
 "Yes," demurely. 
 
 "And who are you going with?" 
 
 "Drury Patterson," Dixie answered, simply and 
 frankly. 
 
 A gleam came into his eyes as he turned them 
 in Drury's direction, and, if Dixie had been look- 
 ing, she might have seen the malevolent spirit 
 mirrored there, as he remembered that John 
 Patterson was under heavy financial obligation 
 to his father. 
 
 "Well," he said, turning back to the girl, "re-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 43 
 
 member me the next time there is anything 
 doing, Dixie. I would be glad to take you any- 
 where." 
 
 "All right, Marvin. If you ask me some time 
 when I can go, and I have no other engagement, 
 I will accept the invitation with pleasure." 
 
 Then, Jim Miller came and gathered his 
 greatly reduced family into the surrey and drove 
 them back to the home that would seem so lone- 
 some for many days to come. Some friends 
 came in to enliven the dull evening, the sun went 
 down in a sea of gorgeous color, and the wed- 
 ding-day of the Miller twins had gone into 
 history. It remained to be seen whether or not 
 the superstitions of the old negro nurse were 
 portentious.
 
 44 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SUMMER PASSES. 
 
 The summer passed by, languidly and slowly. 
 Jim Miller remained at the ranch most of the 
 time ; but Mrs. Miller and the two children went 
 to the Ozark Mountains to escape the sultry 
 days of July and August, much to the regret of 
 the young people that could not go away during 
 the heated term- There was no home in the 
 Tamalpias Valley that was so attractive to those 
 who were fortunate enough to count the Millers 
 among their friends. 
 
 Letters from the bride were frequent and 
 full of quaint and humorous descriptions ot the 
 people and places wherever they went. At first 
 Allie's letters were filled with eulogies of Max- 
 well Wright and his people, whom they visited 
 on their way North. Then, she told them of 
 the cool mountains and the placid lakes of 
 Ottawa and Ontario, and of the ferns and 
 mosses along the brooks where Maxwell caught 
 trout while she gathered wild flowers. They 
 were camping and fishing, boating and dreaming, 
 in the most romantic way. It seemed impos- 
 sible that such happiness could ever be marred. 
 
 There was always praise for her wonderful 
 husband, who filled her horizon, and satisfied every 
 desire of her feminine heart. 
 
 Jessie's first letter was mailed from New York, 
 and was only a newsy note, telling of their 
 time of sailing and where mail was to reach them
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 45 
 
 on the Continent, just a few words about her 
 happiness and the gentle care of her big hus- 
 band. Then, she wrote from London, and it was 
 plain that, while they were on their honeymoon, 
 they were also touring and sightseeing. It was 
 refreshing to read her original description of 
 London Tower, St. Paul's, St. John's Chapel, 
 where William the Conqueror and his family 
 used to have family prayer, Madame Tussand's 
 Wax Figures, Hyde Park, Piccadilly, and West- 
 minster Abbey. Then, there were exciting and 
 amusing experiences in shopping, and getting 
 lost in the great crowds- 
 
 Dixie read all this with a dreamy look in her 
 eyes, and tried to imagine herself and Drury 
 Patterson on such a trip. She would prefer that 
 to "mooning" in Canada, as Allie was doing. This 
 feeling grew on her as Jessie wrote from gay 
 Paris, and told of the great works of art and the 
 beautiful salons and museums. But it was Hol- 
 land and Switzerland that made this romantic 
 desire reach, the climax of a firm resolve that 
 some day, it should all come to pass that she 
 and Drury would visit the islands of Zuyder 
 Zee and watch the inhabitants make Edam 
 cheese, go into the curious little Dutch houses, 
 and lift the lids of the pots to see what they 
 were cooking, look at the Bridal Dresses of 
 Marken, and watch the wooden-shod inhabitants 
 march to church by twos. She did not approve 
 of Allie's idle dreaming; she was not dreaming 
 her life away, but rather having visions of hap- 
 piness and activity yet to come.
 
 46 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Thus the summer passed ; Allie dreaming and 
 writing of her amorous husband, Jessie traveling 
 in Europe and evidently enjoying her mate as 
 well as Allie, but saying little about it, Dixie 
 resting in the Ozarks and having visions of the 
 time when Drury would be a great surgeon and 
 they would tour the world together, then settle 
 down to be a blessing to suffering humanity. Of 
 course, they were only children now; but they 
 would be grown in three or four years, and they 
 were going to be true to each other forever. 
 
 Meanwhile Jack was building muscle by 
 climbing the mountains and hunting with an 
 old mountaineer, named Sol Trimble, who claimed 
 to be the ugliest man in the world. His skin 
 was a reddish purple, and hung in folds and 
 wrinkles on his face and neck, his hair was a 
 muddy yellow, and his eyes were so nearly 
 white that one could not see the iris at first 
 glance. He went clean-shaven, so that people 
 could appreciate his claim, which was never 
 challenged. He made up for his external hide- 
 ousness, however, by having a sunny disposi- 
 tion and a ready wit, which drew around him 
 a host of friends, including summer boarders as 
 well as native mountaineers. Under his guid- 
 ance, Jack soon became an expert rifle shot, and 
 threatened to know the mountain-trails and the 
 haunts of game as well as "Old Man Sol." 
 
 "By crakies!" exclaimed the latter, one day 
 near the close of the summer, "ef you'll come 
 up here ag'in next year, we'll fix up and take a trip 
 over into Baxter and Searcy Counties, an' ef I don't
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 47 
 
 show you sumpin' in the way of big game, fish- 
 ing, and findin' bee-trees, I'll let my whiskers 
 grow out ag'in and give up the champeenship 
 fer ugliness to that pie-faced feller from Saint 
 Looey that has allus got a look like he had just 
 heard that his mother-in-law was a-coming to 
 visit him. You shore must fetch him with you 
 ag'in, Mis' Miller; he's the finest chap as ever 
 grew outside o' Arkansaw." 
 
 Jack was not only popular with the old hunter ; 
 but he was a favorite with men and women, and 
 many mothers pointed him out as an example 
 and ideal for their sons. 
 
 The resort at which they stayed, was the 
 highest point in the Ozarks near a railroad. In- 
 deed, the hotels and cottages were built on a 
 high ridge through which a long tunnel had 
 been made for the railroad to cross the crest 
 of the mountains. To the south could be seen 
 beautiful Blue Canon, where the trains puffed 
 and snorted as they wound in and out through 
 the cuts and over the high bridges, past cliffs 
 and gulches that made the passengers crane 
 their necks from the windows to take in the 
 beautiful scenery. It was one of Dixie's diver- 
 sions to sit on a large rock high over the tunnel 
 and watch the steam rise from the distant train, 
 then strain her ears to catch the echoes of the 
 shrill whistle some moments later; or to sit 
 there at night, and trace the progress of the 
 "Night Express" as the electric headlight shot 
 its rays into the darkness, reminding her of the 
 tail of a comet. At last, there would be the
 
 48 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 deafening puffing of the monster engines, then 
 the trembling of the earth, as the train entered 
 the tunnel. Then she would get up and climb 
 quickly to the top of the ridge in time to see the 
 lights emerge from the other end of the tunnel, 
 and hear the grinding of the wheels as the train 
 came to a stop at the little station for a few 
 moments, and then sped like a specter of the 
 night through the valley to the north, the 
 whistle screeching alarms that echoed and re- 
 echoed until they died away in harmony with 
 the medley of the crickets and katydids. 
 
 When summer was ended, and they re- 
 turned to Tamalpias with the priceless treasure 
 of health and vigor, Jim Miller saw at a glance 
 that Dixie was no longer a child, but that she 
 was a most beautiful young lady, and the 
 thought came to him, accompanied by a keen 
 pain, that she would soon slip out of his home to 
 make one of her own. 
 
 Drury Patterson was also at the station, and 
 there was a sparkle in his eye and a tinge of red 
 on his cheek as he caught sight of the beautiful 
 young woman, whose two or three letters were in 
 his pocket very near to his heart. Whether it was 
 accident or intention, he found himself suddenly 
 displaced, and he saw Marvin Harris take Dixie's 
 umbrella, lift her into his waiting carriage, and 
 drive her away without even waiting for her to 
 speak to the few friends that were there. Jim 
 Miller saw the episode and did not know whether 
 to be displeased or amused; but, seeing Drury's 
 smiling face as he came to welcome Mrs. Miller
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 49 
 
 and Jack, he decided that, after all, it was only a 
 schoolboy affair, and he dismissed it from his 
 mind. 
 
 But Marvin Harris was taking all the advan- 
 tage his little coup afforded him. His plan had 
 succeeded splendidly, and he was not slow to 
 improve his opportunity- He soon brought his 
 horse to a walk and began to talk seriously. 
 
 "This has been a long, dreary summer, Dixie 
 I have been miserably lonesome, and I can not 
 bring myself to think of the winter with you* 
 gone from town. I have always been fond of 
 you; but this absence has revealed to me what life 
 would be without you, and I am taking this oppor- 
 tunity to tell you of my love, because you are to 
 leave for college next week. I may not get another 
 chance. Tell me that you care just a little for 
 me, Dixie." 
 
 "I am sorry you have said this, Marvin; for 
 I am sure I can not discuss the matter now. My 
 preparation for life and other matters make it 
 out of the question for me seriously to consider 
 such a proposition." 
 
 "Come now, Dixie, you can't put me off like 
 that. I know that your soul has awakened, and 
 that the question of marrying is not altogether 
 hateful to you. Is there any one else? Wouldn't 
 you discuss this question with Drury? Ah, I 
 see the blushes come to your cheeks. And I 
 have suspected that he was writing to you while 
 you were gone. But I want to tell you now that 
 you shall never marry that son of a low-down 
 drunkard if I can prevent it, and I think I can."
 
 50 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Marvin, I did not suspect you were so jeal- 
 ous, nor that you would taunt me in this way 
 And I remind you that I have a father who is 
 able to advise and protect me at all times with- 
 out your interference or assistance." 
 
 "Yes, I am jealous, and I don't care who knows 
 it. I have loved you ever since you were a little 
 girl, and, when I used to call you my little sweet- 
 heart, you did not resent it; and, now that you 
 are a stunningly beautiful young lady, you must 
 consider my claims to a place in your heart. 
 Don't turn from me like that. You are to be 
 my wife some day. Come, give me a smile at 
 least." 
 
 Dixie was saved further embarrassment by 
 their arrival at home, and the pleasant surprise 
 of some waiting friends, who had come to wel- 
 come them. It was a happy occasion, except that 
 the family missed the twins more than ever. 
 There were letters from Maury and Jessie, say- 
 ing that they would be at home within two 
 weeks. There was one letter from Allie, telling 
 them that she was ill at her new home in New 
 York, but that her physician was hopeful, and 
 that she expected to be well enough to come to them 
 at Christmas. 
 
 The following week was a round of receptions 
 and parties in honor of returning tourists and 
 departing students. The Miller home was the 
 scene of one of the gayest of all these entertain- 
 ments Thursday night, when Dixie was given a 
 party to which all her old schoolmates came 
 that they might bid her farewell, as she would
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 51 
 
 leave the following Monday for college. So 
 many were the claims on her time that Drury 
 did not get to see her alone long enough to tell 
 her the message that burned in his breast; but 
 she promised him a few hours on Sunday after- 
 noon. The promise was not given too soon, for 
 Marvin came to her a few minutes later, and asked 
 the privilege of calling at that very time. When 
 she told him she had an engagement, he became 
 furious, and grasped her arm until the tears came to 
 her eyes, as he almost hissed: 
 
 "You had better remember what I told you 
 about that low-born scamp. He is not fit to 
 look at you, much less to marry you." 
 
 "Low-born or not, he is a gentleman, and I 
 am sure he would not offer both insult and injury 
 to a girl as you are doing. I am ashamed of 
 you !" 
 
 "Forgive me if I have seemed to offer you 
 either, Dixie. It is only my love for you that 
 makes me so intense." 
 
 "It is certainly a queer way to show love." 
 
 "When you know what love is, you will think 
 better of me- I want you to promise to write 
 to me sometimes." 
 
 "I really can not do that, as I do not know 
 how much liberty and time I will have for corre- 
 spondence. If you mean to ask me to take up a 
 sentimental correspondence with you, I answer you 
 frankly that I can't do that under any circum- 
 stances." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "For reasons of my own." 
 
 "Can you tell me truthfully that you will not
 
 52 JTM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 undertake such correspondence with Drury Pat- 
 terson ?" 
 
 "Mr. Harris, what right have you to institute 
 an inquisition into what I shall or shall not do? 
 I resent your impudence, and I will thank you to 
 cease referring to Drury Patterson in this way. 
 I should dislike to have to call my father to my 
 defense." 
 
 "Mr. Harris! Well, I like that. Here I have 
 known you since you were a baby ; we have 
 played together all our lives, and you call me 
 Mr. Harris! Come now, Dixie, this won't do; 
 we must be friends." 
 
 "You are five years older than I, and your con- 
 duct demands that I treat you as a mere ac- 
 quaintance, so I shall continue to refer to> you in 
 a conventional way." 
 
 "Very well, Dixie, but remember the day will 
 come when you will call me by a more familiar 
 name or wish that you could-" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "I mean that you are either to be my wife, or 
 we are to be the worst enemies in the world. Love 
 like mine must either be requited, or it turns to im- 
 placable hatred." 
 
 There was such a determined look in his eyes 
 that Dixie went pale and turned sick at heart. 
 Visions of harm to herself, or worse, to Drury, 
 flitted before her, and he saw it and smiled. As he 
 turned away, he bent over her and said in a low, 
 thrilling voice: 
 
 "Your happiness and mine are in your own 
 hand ; and I swear to you that we are to be 
 happy or miserable together."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 53 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GATHERING CLOUDS. 
 
 It was Christmastide, and Dixie was at home 
 for the holidays. The day before Christmas, she 
 was at Jessie's new home, a California cottage 
 that had been built for them while they were in 
 Europe, and was listening to her sister's graphic 
 accounts of the wonderland of the Old World. 
 I* was almost like a real trip to hear Jessie re- 
 count the things she had seen and the incidents 
 along the way. Finally, the conversation turned 
 to Allie. 
 
 "I am so sorry Allie could not come this 
 Christmas," Dixie was saying. "It seems an age 
 since she went away. And to see you here with- 
 out her makes her absence more keenly realized." 
 
 "Yes, Dixie ; but you can scarcely feel as I do 
 about it, because I was never away from her be- 
 fore. While I was abroad, the excitement ana 
 the new experience of Maury's company kept 
 me busy ; but since coming home, I have been 
 so lonesome without her, I am really nervous. 
 And I am alarmed about her health. She has 
 always been the stronger of the two, and I was 
 sure she would be benefited by the summer in 
 Canada ; but her illness seems to be serious. I 
 wish she could come home and let Dr. McCon- 
 nell treat her; I am sure he could cure her." 
 
 "O, I am sure she is not very ill. She wrote 
 Mother this week that she was able to ride out 
 each day, but that she did not feel equal to the
 
 54 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 long ride on the cars. I hope she will be all 
 right soon, and she is coming as soon as she can 
 stand the trip." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by the 
 arrival of Maury. Dixie caught her breath as 
 she saw his happy face wreathed in a glorious 
 smile as he caught Jessie in his strong arms and 
 kissed her face and her hair. He was the very 
 picture of manhood, and his happiness made him 
 as handsome as Dixie had dreamed Drury Patter- 
 son would be, when he attained perfect manhood. 
 
 "Excuse me, dear, I must give the workmen 
 some instructions about that garage. Here is 
 a letter that you will want to read while I am 
 out," and he kissed her again, and handed Jessie 
 a letter. 
 
 "From Allie!" 
 
 As she read, her face clouded, and her breath 
 came in gasps. 
 
 "What is it, Sister?" Dixie asked. 
 
 "Oh, she is worse, and she fears an operation 
 will have to be performed before she will ever 
 get well. I do wish she was at home. I am going 
 to write her at once to come home and let us 
 nurse her, and Dr. McConnell will cure her, I 
 am sure." 
 
 Every member of the Miller family believed 
 in Dr. McConnell. The fact that he was on his 
 way to the bedside of a sick one gave hope and 
 cheer, and even the negroes on the ranch began 
 to improve as soon as they saw the Doctor's 
 gray horse being hitched in front of their doors. 
 Indeed, the old physician had treated the family
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 55 
 
 for so many years that he knew their predisposi- 
 tions and temperaments better than they knew 
 them themselves, and that is no mean advantage 
 in medical science. 
 
 The holidays passed swiftly for Dixie. She 
 went to several "parties," as the social gather- 
 ings in that section are called, and was always a 
 favorite with both girls and boys. Drury Pat- 
 terson had not returned from school, and Mar- 
 vin Harris took advantage of that fact to impose 
 his company on Dixie as much as he dared. He 
 was more gentle and considerate than he had 
 been before. Drury's name was not mentioned 
 between them until the day Dixie started back 
 to college, when Marvin asked, 
 
 "I suppose you know that Drury Patterson's 
 father had delirium tremens yesterday, and is al- 
 most dead?" 
 
 "No, I had not heard that. I am sorry, and hope 
 he will recover and give up his habit." 
 
 "He may recover, but he will never give up> 
 his drink. And his son will most surely follow 
 in his tracks. I have been reading some articles 
 on heredity, and all the specialists say that a 
 drunkard imparts his appetite for strong drink 
 to his children. It would not surprise me to hear 
 that Drury has fallen, and, when he does, he will 
 go quick; they always do." 
 
 "Don't you think you are uncharitable to sup- 
 pose that Drury has no will-power of his own? 
 I do not believe for a moment that he will ever 
 take to drink." 
 
 "No, you are prejudiced in his favor; but time
 
 56 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 will tell." There was that in his voice and man- 
 ner that told plainly that he hoped his implied 
 prophecy would come true; also, he revealed his 
 old jealousy, and this stung Dixie into silence. 
 
 When she was alone on the train, there came 
 to her a dread fear that all he had said might 
 be true. She had read something like that her- 
 self, and she determined to make investigation 
 along that line. The newsboy, with his armlul 
 of magazines, suggested that perhaps she could 
 find something in a current publication that 
 would throw light on this terrible problem. Nor 
 was she disappointed. The first magazine she 
 opened had an article entitled "Is Alcoholism 
 Hereditary?" The author was a noted physician, 
 and he quoted from many authorities to prove 
 his contention, and finally summed the matter 
 up with this startling declaration: 
 
 "It is a fact in science that the families of 
 drunkards do not live beyond the fourth genera- 
 tion. In the first generation, there is found moral 
 depravity and alcoholic excess; in the second 
 generation, drunkenness and maniacal outbursts, 
 delirium tremens ; in the third generation, melan- 
 cholia and impulsive ideas, especially bloodthirst 
 and murder; in the fourth generation, the im- 
 becile and the idiot appear, and the family be- 
 comes extinct." 
 
 The book fell from her hand and she shook 
 as with an ague. No greater shock could have 
 come to a young woman than this. She looked 
 about, but there was no one on the car that she 
 knew- She almost screamed out with the pain
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 57 
 
 that gnawed at her heart. Drury Patterson was 
 the child of a drunkard ; he was doomed to be- 
 come a victim of this terrible habit. But he was 
 now a grown man, and the appetite had not devel- 
 oped in him. Surely, there was a mistake, or he 
 was the exception that proved the rule. Yes, that 
 must be it. She had heard Doctor McConnell say 
 something like that, and she comforted herself with 
 the thought. Two men seated in front of her were 
 talking loudly, and, now, she heard one of them say, 
 very distinctly : 
 
 "I do not agree with you at all. In my exper- 
 ience as a physician, I find that more harm has 
 been done by the articles printed in the maga- 
 zines than there has been good accomplished. I 
 grant you that some of the articles are written 
 by competent men, and some of them, indeed 
 many of them, are correct. But the general pub- 
 lic is not able to interpret them, and opinions 
 and prejudices are formed that are unjust and 
 incorrect. Take, for instance, the current articles 
 on tuberculosis ; all good, but only the alphabet 
 given the public, and the readers think they are 
 graduates, and will never need the advice of a 
 competent doctor on the subject." 
 
 "Well, I am not a doctor, but I do believe 
 that our hope lies in giving publicity to the 
 facts. At least, the intelligent people will give 
 heed, and they will be the first to seek further help 
 from you doctors." 
 
 "But, while that is true, young people are 
 reading these articles, and are becoming need-
 
 58 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 lessly alarmed in regard to things of which they 
 can know little or nothing." 
 
 Dixie wanted to hear more, but at this 
 point, the two men had reached their destina- 
 tion, and she was left to the conflict of her fears, 
 and her hope that Drury was a notable excep- 
 tion to the rule of heredity. She realized now that 
 she loved him with all her heart, and that heart 
 kept saying: 
 
 "He is all right; he is different from other 
 men; he surpasses others in will-power, and 
 will never fall like a weakling. No, Drury will 
 never drink; he loves me too well to do anything 
 like that. I wish Marvin had not told me all 
 that. His father is such a paragon of morality 
 and temperance in all things that he delighted 
 to have me compare him and Mr. Patterson. But 
 one would think Drury the son of such a man 
 as Mr- Harris, rather than of John Patterson, 
 and Marvin is scarcely a duplicate of the older 
 Harris. I just know it is all a mistake. But I 
 am going to write to Drury and ask him to shun 
 temptation if it ever comes his way." 
 
 On and on, in the way of the love-lorn maiden, 
 she communed with her heart until the train reached 
 the college town of Traskwood. 
 
 When he had told her of Mr- Patterson's at- 
 tack of delirium tremens, Marvin Harris had no- 
 ticed the sudden paling of Dixie's face, and, that 
 very night, he wrote a dissolute friend, who was 
 at the State University, and told him he wanted 
 him to cultivate Drury Patterson, and "show 
 him a good time," but never to mention that it
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 59 
 
 was at his request. Tom Murdock lost no time 
 in hunting up Drury and getting a lot of the 
 "bunch" to try to lure him out for "a night off." 
 
 It is quite possible that Drury would have joined 
 them in what he supposed was an innocent 
 "lark," had he not received an extraordinary 
 letter from Dixie, in which she requested him 
 to beware of getting in the way of temptation 
 that might be hard to resist. She was very plain, 
 and told him that he had a harder battle to fight 
 than if his father was a temperate man ; and it 
 must be set down to Drury's credit that he did 
 not resent her plain words, but rather appreciated 
 them. Later on, however, he did go with the 
 "fellows" on a Saturday trip to the Coast, and 
 he found that they were all wind and dissipated. 
 But he found the taste, and even the smell, of 
 drink so obnoxious that it was no temptation to 
 him. The worst task was to resist doing that 
 which was really distasteful to keep from of- 
 fending his comrades. But he was firm, and told 
 them it was both a physical and a moral ques- 
 tion with him. Nor could he understand why 
 he did not like the drink, when his father used 
 it, and he had been fed "toddy" in babyhood. 
 
 In the meantime, letters brought the news 
 that Allie was worse and that the attending 
 physician was insisting on an immediate opera- 
 tion. Jessie went East to be with her, and, in 
 March the parents followed, in answer to a tele- 
 gram, and they took Dr. McConnell with them. 
 
 Mrs. Miller could not repress the sobs as she 
 saw the colorless face of her child among the
 
 60 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 pillows. All she had written about the luxury 
 that surrounded her had failed to prepare them 
 for what they beheld. Everything that could de- 
 light the eye or please the senses was made to 
 contribute to the loveliness of Maxwell Wright's 
 palatial residence. Tapestries and hangings, 
 statuary and art, fountains and flowers, musical 
 instruments and pets, landscape and architec- 
 ture, were the realized dream of artist and artisan. 
 Servants were at every turn, and two trained 
 nurses were in attendance on the invalid. Mr. 
 Wright's parents were the dearest couple the 
 Millers had ever met, and the pain in Jim Miller's 
 heart was somewhat eased at this revelation of 
 the care and luxury that surrounded his child. 
 
 After consultation, it was decided that the 
 patient should have two weeks of special treat- 
 ment before the operation should be attempted. 
 The longer the Millers stayed, the better they 
 liked their daughter's relatives. They were lead- 
 ing people in the town, and were universally 
 liked, the elder Mr. Wright being a popular law- 
 yer, and his wife a noted church-worker and di- 
 rector of several charities. Maxwell had been 
 wild, but had settled into a very sedate life since 
 his marriage, and was proving his ability as a 
 business man and a money-maker. 
 
 Mrs. Wright gave one the impression that she 
 had a great sorrow in her life, and, within a 
 week, she took Mrs. Miller into her confidence 
 and told her the story : 
 
 "Mr. Wright was at his office late one night 
 and walked home. It was winter, and a heavy
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 61 
 
 snow was on the ground. As he passed a corner 
 store, three blocks from our home, he saw a 
 little girl leaning against the wall, and she was 
 sobbing as she shivered in the cold- He asked 
 her why she did not run home, and she said she 
 had no home. In reply to his questions, she lold 
 him that her parents were both dead and she 
 had been left in the town by a woman with whom 
 she had lived for two years. He brought her 
 home, dirty, ragged, cold, and nearly sick. But, 
 when she was well, and I had gotten her skin 
 healed and her hair brushed she was the pret- 
 tiest child I have ever seen. She was about 
 eleven years old then, and she quickly grew in- 
 to our hearts and we into hers. T had but the 
 one child, and this girl seemed to fill a place in 
 my life that had been empty. We sent her to 
 school, and she grew to womanhood under our 
 care- Then, an awful day came : she met a 
 woman on the street, and was recognized. The 
 woman was her sister, whom she had never 
 seen. She proved her relationship. Surely blood 
 is thicker than water, and it will tell. Almost be- 
 fore we knew it, my child had learned the ways of 
 her wicked sister. 
 
 "One day, while I was packing her clothes in 
 a trunk, she came in and sat on the arm of the 
 rocker in which Mr. Wright sat, put her arm 
 around his neck, and sobbed out: 'Papa, I wish 
 I was dead !' 
 
 "He replied : 'I do too, Mollie.' 
 
 "I really wish she had died the night he found 
 her. Our hearts were broken ; but we could do
 
 62 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 nothing except give her over to the sister, who 
 had ruined her. We told her that if we could 
 ever help her to call on us and we would do 
 what we could. Five years passed by. Then, a 
 telegram came, asking us to come to her. We 
 did not get there before she died. Oh, it was 
 in a jail, and she lies buried in a grave of shame 
 shame into which she was sold by her own 
 sister." 
 
 It is needless to say that the story melted the 
 heart of the woman whose child lay in the next 
 room so near to death's door; and only God 
 knows how much this grief softened the hearts 
 of the Millers toward the Wrights in the com- 
 ing months and years. Knowledge of another's 
 sorrow gives us charity for their faults, and it 
 is grief that makes all mankind kin. 
 
 It was the middle of April when Allie was re- 
 moved to the sanitarium for the crucial ordeal 
 that was ultimately to mean life or death for 
 her. The snows of winter had given way to the 
 breath of spring, and the fragrance of lilacs and 
 cherry-blossoms filled the air. Life was abound- 
 ing everywhere, and all were full of hope that 
 the invalid would recover in a very short time. 
 Dr. McConnell said little, but that little kept the 
 parents hoping and praying that their child 
 would survive and fully recover.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 63 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS. 
 
 If it was not for the Valley of Shadows, there 
 would be no tragedies in life. We could have 
 poetry and art without the Valley of Shadows; 
 but drama and tragedy would be insipid, indeed, 
 without exquisite pain and heroic suffering. 
 Men may not believe in vicarious suffering, but 
 that is because they have not stopped to analyze 
 the real tragedies of life. And where will you 
 find such a garden of tragedies as under the 
 somber roof of a great hospital? If the angels 
 that hover over the unconscious forms, and peep 
 over the shoulders of nurse and surgeon, could 
 write what they see and hear, their stories would 
 break the heart of every reader, and the world 
 would be the better for the sympathies thus 
 awakened. Nor is it any sordid purpose that 
 records these lines as we follow one of the 
 Miller twins down into the Valley. 
 
 One after another, the tables were wheeled into 
 the mysterious room, where the great surgeon 
 was performing real miracles of healing. Below, 
 in the beautiful parlor, six people sat in silence, 
 save that there escaped a few whispered words 
 from the two elderly women, an occasional groan 
 from one of the three men, and a smothered sob 
 from Jessie. Maxwell sat like a statue, but one 
 could see he was suffering most keenly. Jessie 
 watched the clock on the ornamental brick 
 mantel, and, when it marked eleven, her sobs
 
 64 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 increased ; that was the hour set for the tragedy 
 on the fourth floor. Maxwell rose and walked 
 out of the room to the corridor, and his father 
 followed him ; Jim Miller sat with his face in his 
 hands, and mastered his grief only for the sake 
 of the wife of his youth, who was really under 
 better self-control than any other member of the 
 sad company. 
 
 It was high noon when a nurse entered the 
 parlor and told them the Valley had been passed, 
 and that they could take a peep at the patient 
 through the open door of the room to which she 
 had been removed on the second floor. Here, 
 they found the old Doctor in close attendance, 
 and a special nurse, who had been detailed for 
 service during the day. Allie's limp form lay 
 on the white bed, and it would be two or three 
 hours before she recovered consciousness, and 
 would be entirely out of the Valley ; but Dr. 
 McConnell whispered to Jim that the operation 
 had been successful, and that he had never seen 
 a finer surgeon than Dr. Duncan. He added, 
 however, that it would be several days before 
 definite promise of the future could be made. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, the party visited the 
 sick-room, and the meeting between the twins 
 was pathetic in the extreme, while that between 
 husband and wife was so sublime that the Mil- 
 lers had final proof of the love of both. Dr. 
 McConnell said later that he had never seen a 
 more tender and lovable husband in his life ; and 
 the visit seemed to prove a tonic to the patient. 
 
 But days multiplied into weeks before the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 65 
 
 physicians would consent for Allie to undertake 
 the trip to the old home, and it was the last of 
 May when the party arrived at Tamalpias, and 
 once more the whole family was under the Miller 
 roof at the same time. Old Rilla was always on 
 hand, and was jealous of the trained nurse that 
 had come with them; she knew she could take 
 better care of her "baby-chile" than any white 
 nurse could. Allie improved very slowly, and 
 it was decided to take her to Colorado for the 
 summer, and Rilla was in the heights of ecstasy 
 when told that she was to go with them to 
 nurse the invalid. 
 
 "Thar, now," she said, "I knowed that white 
 nuss doan know how ter nuss my angel-twin ; 
 do she, honey? I's jes' gwin ter git you well in 
 a minit, I is. I's gwine ter git some yarbs, and 
 make some tea, and you shore is gwine ter be 
 well right off." 
 
 Maxwell's attention was unceasing and tender. 
 He seemed to realize that Allie was not to stay 
 with him long, and he made the most of her 
 company. She was uncomplaining and patient 
 at all times, and showed more consideration for 
 the comfort and pleasure of others than she had 
 ever done before. She soon discovered the status 
 of affairs between Dixie and Drury, and suc- 
 ceeded in winning the confidence of both. She 
 laughed at Dixie's fears until Dixie felt that she 
 had wronged Drury even to think of such a thing 
 as his ever yielding to an appetite for strong 
 drink, if he should discover that he had one. 
 
 It was while they were sitting on a large rock,
 
 66 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 gazing at the mountain-peaks of the Great Di- 
 vide, that Allie told Maxwell of her dreams. 
 She was leaning against him, and pulled the 
 great shawl closer about her as she said: 
 
 "Darling, I never did tell you about the dreams 
 I had before we were married. I dreamed so 
 often that we were driving, and that you got 
 out to open a gate or something; the horse be- 
 came fretful and ran away with me, and I always 
 awoke just as the horse was getting entirely 
 beyond my control. And, the day of the opera- 
 tion, as I went under the influence of the anes- 
 thetic, I dreamed it all over again just the same 
 way, and I became conscious again just as the horse 
 seemed to be plunging off a high precipice." 
 
 "I am so glad you returned to me before the 
 horse did plunge; and I wish you could know 
 how it hurt me that I could not suffer for you, 
 my precious wife. I never realized before what 
 suffering is ; I have always been well, and I have 
 never seen suffering; but I did suffer with you. 
 I do so much want you to get well and let me 
 make your life a round of happiness. My love 
 nas been a selfish one ; now, it is your pleasure 
 I shall seek." 
 
 "How you make me want to get well ! I will 
 If I can ; but I feel my strength slipping from me, 
 and I can not get the inspiration of hope that I 
 am going to get well, at all. Really, I feel some- 
 times that I shall not be with you much longer, my 
 sweet boy. There, don't let those tears fall that 
 way. I haven't given up, and I shall try harder 
 after this little talk; but, if I do go, I want you
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 67 
 
 to be brave and useful. My own poor life has 
 never been serviceable, and my sincere wish is 
 that my boy be of real service in the world." 
 
 "I will, darling; but don't think such thoughts 
 and you will get well easier. Now, let me carry 
 you back to the cottage." 
 
 It seemed that, after this, she did improve very 
 rapidly. She even walked some distance along 
 the mountainside, and Rilla declared that it was 
 the "yarb-tea" she was giving her that was 
 bringing her back to health. But the invalid 
 was tortured by pains of which she did not 
 speak, lest the knowledge would bring her hus- 
 band sadness and anxiety that was even now 
 telling on his own health. 
 
 In July, Maury and Jessie came to the moun- 
 tains, and the reunion did both the twins good. 
 Jessie had -a new secret to impart to Allie that 
 made both smile; but, later, Allie grew pensive 
 as she watched the busy fingers of her devoted 
 sister working over embroideries and fine linen. 
 
 The two brothers-in-law had opportunity to 
 get acquainted and to exchange confidences, and 
 they found themselves more closely drawn to 
 each other than either had imagined possible. 
 Maury told Jessie that he was continually sur- 
 prised at the change that had come over Max- 
 well ; he was more gentle and serious, and he 
 no longer cared for the fast life he had formerly 
 lived. His tenderness toward Allie was so 
 marked that Jessie apologized to her for her 
 former fear that he would some day tire of her. 
 
 "I am glad you have come to know him as I
 
 68 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 knew him all along. He is the very best hus- 
 band in all the world, not even excepting yours, 
 and that is why I was willing to marry him 
 without the consent of my parents, if that had 
 been necessary." 
 
 The invalid did not know that she had 
 awakened all this in him ; for he had always been 
 petted and spoiled, and his own mother was 
 astonished at this new development in his selfish 
 nature. But Maxwell knew; there were hours 
 of solitude in the night when he communed with 
 himself, when he thought of the possibility of 
 losing this treasure he had found in the South- 
 land, and he wondered at the change that had 
 come over him since his marriage with this pure- 
 minded girl. That he had changed, there was no 
 question, and there was no possibility that he 
 would ever be the wild, selfish man again that 
 he had been two years ago. 
 
 Maury and Jessie were lovers still ; but they 
 were not silly, and seldom made display of their 
 affection in the presence of others. Close ob- 
 servers would have noticed, however, that Jessie 
 was very proud of the stalwart man who walked 
 by her side with such easy grace, and who at- 
 tracted the admiration of both sexes wherever 
 he went. Nor was the admiration one sided ; He 
 had eyes for no other woman, and was always 
 comparing others with his wife, to their detri- 
 ment. Once he spoke to Maxwell about their 
 wives being superior to the other women they 
 met, and he soon found that they were agreed 
 that the Miller twins were queens among women.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 69 
 
 "The first time I saw them," said Maxwell, 
 "was at the races two years ago, and I fell in 
 love with Allie that very day. The more I knew 
 the family, the more I felt my own unfitness to 
 marry her. I was pretty wild, Tallman, and I 
 had flirted with women everywhere. I had had 
 several romantic affairs, and thought I was in 
 love two or three times ; but what rot ! Now, if 
 I should lose her, I am sure I would never look 
 at a woman again." 
 
 "Well, I was reared with them, and I always 
 knew that Jim Miller was giving to the world a 
 very fine family; but I did not think of loving 
 Jessie until she came back from college just the 
 same sweet, heart-free girl she went away. She 
 tells me that neither of them ever had a love- 
 affair until they met us. We are very fortunate 
 men, Wright. I only wish I was more worthy of 
 the love of such a pure woman. Like you, I 
 sowed my wild oats, and I detest myself when I 
 think of the low standards"! used to have. Mar- 
 riage makes such a difference in a man's think- 
 ing ; I really believe there ought to be some kind 
 of legislation to check the wildness of young 
 men. I do not know what it ought to be ; but 
 I am sure it is not right to allow a pure young 
 woman to meet a foul, dissolute young man at 
 the altar, when he would not marry her if she 
 was half as unfit as he. I hope some reformer 
 will arise to work a social revolution before I 
 have a daughter to give away." 
 
 "That is what is killing me. I not only stand 
 a fair chance to lose my wife, but Dr. Duncan
 
 70 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 told me that she will never be a mother, even if 
 she gets well. The operation destroyed all hope 
 of that. I cannot see why a woman brought up 
 as she was, and with the superb health she had 
 when we were married, should become such an 
 invalid. I have given her every care, and it 
 must be as our minister says, it is the curse of 
 God on womankind. If that is it, I am frank to 
 say that I think it an unjust affliction of innocent 
 persons." 
 
 "I would not be hasty in saying that; we are 
 learning that many things that have been 
 charged up to the arbitrary will of the Creator 
 are only the natural result of the violation of 
 some of the laws of Nature. It is a Chinese 
 puzzle; but the solution will be known some of 
 these days, and it may be that we shall find the 
 cause of such suffering nearer home." 
 
 Maury spoke at random ; however, he was 
 nearer the truth than either of them knew. He 
 was destined to know the awful facts in the 
 near future, for the question was to come home 
 to him in a way it had not come to Maxwell. 
 
 Women take such things more as a matter-of- 
 course, and without questionings and surmises. 
 So Allie suffered on, and found a little envy 
 growing up in her heart as she watched the 
 dainty work in the hands of her sister growing 
 into a wardrobe of dolllike proportions. 
 
 Maury returned to Tamalpias after four weeks 
 and left Jessie to spend the remainder of the 
 heated term with Maxwell and Allie. When he 
 reached home, there were letters for him that
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 71 
 
 made it probable he would accept a position with 
 a bank at Sharman, a new town near the border 
 of Mexico. He discussed the matter with Jim 
 Miller, and the latter advised him to accept it, 
 as the opportunity was great for him to make 
 more money and have a better position than 
 the one he then held. It was hard for Mrs. 
 Miller to consent to the arrangement, as it would 
 take the other twin away from home ; however, 
 she saw the wisdom of the change and deter- 
 mined to make the best of it. 
 
 Thus it happened that, by the time Jessie re- 
 turned home, everything was ready for the move, 
 and she had only a few days with her mother 
 before going to make a really new home among 
 strangers. Her mother promised to come to her 
 during the winter, and that made it easier for 
 both of them. 
 
 Maxwell's business interests demanded his at- 
 tention at home, so he and Allie took up their 
 journey after a visit of two weeks at Tamalpias. 
 Old Dr. McConnell shook his head when Jim 
 Miller asked him what he thought of Allie's 
 prospects of being strong again. 
 
 "I fear she will never be well again, Jim. If 
 she had improved more this summer, I would be 
 more hopeful ; but it now looks like invalidism 
 for life. Another operation may be necessary* 
 but I hope not ; it is a stubborn case, and one that 
 is hard to forecast." 
 
 So it was with heavy hearts that they bade 
 Allie good-by and saw her leave the scenes of her 
 happy childhood.
 
 72 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DIXIE MILLER. 
 
 Dixie Miller had begun to realize that "Life 
 is real, life is earnest," for the hard work of the 
 school-year, added to her uneasiness about Allie, 
 and her hopes and fears about Drury Patterson, 
 .had quickly developed her into a serious young 
 lady. Her parents were awed at the change in 
 her looks and her demeanor, and the thoughtful 
 father spoke to her very gently about it. 
 
 "I am afraid, Dixie," he said, "that you are 
 taking things too seriously. Perhaps you are 
 working too hard at school?" 
 
 "No, Father, I have not worked harder than 
 others ; indeed, not as hard as some have had to 
 work to keep up. But I can not help worrying 
 about Allie. I am going to tell you my secret, 
 Daddy: I care a great deal for Drury Patterson, 
 and I am told that his father had a severe attack 
 of delirium tremens last winter. I haven't told 
 another living soul about it; but I have wanted 
 to talk to you, and ask if you think Drury will 
 ever take up the habit?" 
 
 Jim looked down into the face of his child for 
 some time before answering her question. There 
 was admiration, astonishment, pride, and love 
 mingled in his look. His children had always 
 been frank with him, with the possible exception 
 of Allie, and this supreme confidence and candor 
 in his youngest daughter stirred him deeply. He 
 seldom yielded to his emotions ; but, now, he
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 73 
 
 caught Dixie in his arms and pressed her to his 
 heart, while the tears brimmed his eyes as he 
 replied in a voice that was eloquent with paternal 
 love: 
 
 "And has it gone that far, Dixie?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Are you sure it is not the fancy of a school- 
 girl?" 
 
 "It might have been that at first; still, you 
 must remember that I have had the opportunity 
 of a year's absence and acquaintance with other 
 young men, and I assure you that I know my 
 heart. Although I love Drury more than I can 
 tell you, I have no desire to marry him until we 
 are both through school, and he is settled in his 
 life's work. Nevertheless, I am concerned about 
 this question of his inheritance of the appetite 
 for drink." 
 
 "You are my sweet, sensible girl ; and I ap- 
 preciate your confidence as much as I admire 
 your common sense in this great matter. Who 
 put this notion in your head?" 
 
 "I have read several articles on the question 
 in the magazines, and Marvin Harris mentioned 
 it to me last Christmas after Mr. Patterson had 
 his attack." 
 
 "Well, it is a question I have not studied ; but, 
 I do not believe a word of it. You can't afford 
 to believe these sensational articles in the maga- 
 zines ; they are printed to sell the periodicals. 
 If the son was going to follow in the footsteps 
 of his father, he would have begun before this. 
 As for Marvin Harris telling you that, didn't it
 
 74 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 occur to you that he wanted you to believe some- 
 thing of that sort?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, with a pretty blush, "I 
 was vain enough to think that. Yet the pos- 
 sibility of his suggestion being true was enough 
 to make me consider it." 
 
 "Does Drury know of your love for him?" 
 
 "In a way. We have been corresponding, and 
 he has repeatedly declared his love for me, and I 
 have responded so frankly that he knows his 
 love is returned. I have also written him that I 
 have confidence in his shunning the very pos- 
 sibility of ever forming the drink-habit." 
 
 "What would you do if he should begin to 
 drink?" 
 
 "My mind is made up on that question. I 
 will never marry any man that drinks whisky. 
 Just think of his mother; she is a thoroughly 
 good woman, and she is a lady. But, oh, the 
 bitterness in her cup of life through the dissipa- 
 tion of her husband ! No, I could never cease 
 loving him ; but I would never marry him if he 
 begins to drink." 
 
 "Well, listen, Dixie, according to your own 
 program, it will be three years before you could 
 marry, and, if he does not take up the habit by 
 that time, I think you will be safe." 
 
 "O thank you, Daddy. I am so glad to have 
 you say that. I shall not worry any more about it." 
 it." 
 
 "As to the young man on other grounds, I have 
 been watching him closely, and approve of him 
 heartily. His father is about finished financially,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 75 
 
 and I have it in mind to help him get his educa- 
 tion if he needs my help." 
 
 The caress the daughter gave her father full}' 
 paid him for his promise and his kindly words. 
 Both remembered this conversation in after 
 years, and the father came to appreciate the wis- 
 dom of his daughter even more that he did this 
 summer day on the lawn at Tamalpias. 
 
 As they rose to return to the house, both were 
 surprised to see Drury enter the gate ; for he was 
 supposed to have accepted a position for the 
 summer in the city where the University was 
 located, and it had not been his intention to 
 come home. However, John Patterson had 
 reached that point in his inebriacy that he 
 thought it reflected on him for Drury to remain 
 away during the summer, and he had ordered 
 him to come home. 
 
 This was about the time Maxwell and Allie 
 had left for the mountains of Colorado, and the 
 Harris family had already left for the North ; so 
 that, owing to the fact that Mrs. Miller was not 
 going away for the summer, Dixie and Drury 
 saw much of each other without the interference 
 of the jealous rival. Drury told her of his trip 
 to the Coast, and of his experience with the jolly 
 crowd. This reassured Dixie, and she freely ex- 
 pressed her faith in his manhood and his deter- 
 mination never to touch the fiery liquid that had 
 been his father's undoing. 
 
 With the relief of Allie's improvement, and 
 the end of her anxiety about Drury's future, the 
 rest began to bring the health-bloom back to
 
 78 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Dixie's pale cheeks. Then, too, she took up the 
 twins' habit of going to the pool for a plunge 
 every morning ; and, if the twins had been beau- 
 tiful, she was more so. Even Jack became en- 
 thusiastic about her, and it was a wonder she did 
 not become vain over the attention she received 
 everywhere she went. However, she was too 
 sensible to have her head turned by the fact that 
 she had a beautiful face, for she had heard Dr. 
 Barnes preach on "Solomon's Quest of the Chief 
 Good," and she remembered that one of his main 
 points was "The Vanity of All Personal Beauty," 
 which, he said, could be snatched away by sick- 
 ness, sorrow, or an accident. 
 
 When Marvin Harris came home, two weeks 
 before she returned to school, he did not share 
 her opinion on that matter; and he was more in- 
 fatuated than ever. Drury had been content to 
 sit in mute worship of the pure character that he 
 knew was resident in this beautiful house. But 
 not so Marvin Harris. His eyes ravished her 
 face and form, and he told her of her charms in 
 such eloquent terms that a less sensible girl 
 would have been won by his ardent admiration. 
 Even she blushed as she realized, woman-like, 
 that such praise and attention were not alto- 
 gether distasteful However, it is the ardent, ag- 
 gressive lover that is lacking in tact. He always 
 spoiled his compliment by some slighting refer- 
 ence to his rival. 
 
 Dixie assumed an attitude of placid indiffer- 
 ence when Marvin referred to Drury, and refused 
 to be drawn into any discussion regarding him
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 77 
 
 or his family, to such purpose that Marvin 
 ceased to annoy her in that way. Nevertheless, 
 he was by no means satisfied to let it go at that. 
 He knew that Mr. Patterson would not be able 
 to send Drury back to the University without 
 borrowing money, and he was sure that his fath- 
 er would be appealed to in the matter. Nor was 
 he mistaken. He was in his father's office when 
 John Patterson came on that very errand, and, 
 while they were talking, he wrote a note and 
 passed it. to his father, asking him not to lend any 
 more money on collateral that was even now 
 covered by amounts approaching its real value. 
 The note was oppoi tune, and Mr. Harris kindly, 
 but firmly, told his client that he could not ac- 
 commodate him further. It was a hard blow, 
 and John Patterson begged and made promises, 
 to no purpose; for he had promised before, and 
 had always broken his word at the first tempta- 
 tion. 
 
 Drury said not a word regarding his keen dis- 
 appointment. Not even to his mother, nor to 
 Dixie, did he utter a word of complaint. He 
 merely set about to find employment, and, fail- 
 ing in town, he applied to Jim Miller for a place 
 on the ranch. 
 
 "Why," replied Jim, "I thought you were go- 
 ing back to the University." 
 
 "I was ; but my father can not spare the mon- 
 ey, and I will have to work this year and make 
 enough to go to school next year."
 
 78 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "So you are not going to give up the ambition 
 to get an education, then!" 
 
 "Never, sir. It will take longer; but I suspect 
 I will appreciate it the more." 
 
 "Give me your hand, son. That is the stuff 
 men are made of. You will succeed in life, and 
 I want to help you. I will make you a proposi- 
 tion: I will loan you one thousand dollars, and 
 you can pay me when you are through school 
 and getting an income of two thousand a year." 
 
 "But, Mr. Miller, I have no way of securing 
 you for such a loan." 
 
 "I want no other security than your word, my 
 boy. I have watched you for years, and I be- 
 lieve in you thoroughly. I only exact one condi- 
 tion : you are to return to me the unexpended 
 balance that may be on hand if you ever take a 
 drink of intoxicating liquor, and our friendship 
 will then be at an end." 
 
 "I gladly subscribe to the condition, yet I hes- 
 itate to accept such a large loan when it will 
 take so long to repay it." 
 
 "You need not hesitate a moment; it is my 
 proposition, and I want you to accept it in the 
 spirit in which it is offered. Of course, you un- 
 derstand that none of the money is to be diverted 
 to any other purpose, and it would be just as 
 well to keep the matter confidential between us." 
 
 "Before I accept it, I have a confession to make 
 to you, Mr. Miller. There is a mutual under- 
 standing between me and Dixie. I do not ask 
 you for her hand, because that is a matter out 
 of the question until I have an education and an
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 79 
 
 income that will support her as your daughter 
 ought to be supported. But I think it is time 
 you knew that I love her, and I could not accept 
 your proffered help without knowing that you 
 have no objection to our correspondence." 
 
 "There, now, that is the sort I took you to be. 
 I admire your frankness, and I hope the time 
 will never come when you will not be straight- 
 forward like that. I am glad you see that you 
 must not think of marriage until you are settled 
 and have an income on which to support a wife. 
 Three years is quite a while, and, if you still feel 
 like this at the end of that time, I want you to 
 tell me so. For the present, you must give your- 
 self to hard work ; and I would advise you to con- 
 centrate on the study of medicine if you are 
 settled in making that your profession." 
 
 "I can not thank you enough, Mr. Miller, for 
 your great kindness to me. I shall try to prove 
 my gratitude by making a place for myself in 
 the profession, of which you shall not be 
 ashamed. I am going to the top if I can get 
 there." 
 
 "God bless you, my boy," and the two men 
 shook hands and separated. 
 
 Marvin Harris was chagrined when he found 
 that Drury was going to school again. Although 
 he tried every way to find out where he got the 
 money, it remained a mystery to him and other 
 curious people for many years. Dixie surmised 
 what had happened because of the remark her 
 father had made, to her, although the subject 
 was not mentioned between them.
 
 80 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 September found both students back at school, 
 and hard at work. Dixie was so much improved 
 in mind and body that she took up her work 
 with zest. Nor was Drury a laggard. He im- 
 mediately began to lead his class, and his pro- 
 fessors frequently exchanged prophecies about 
 his future. 
 
 Dixie was troubled, however, by the frequent 
 letters from Marvin Harris. There seemed to 
 be no way of making him understand that his 
 suit was hopeless. His letters were sometimes 
 suppliant, again they were full of jealous chiding, 
 while, at other times, they breathed subtle 
 threats and dark hints of what would happen if 
 she married the son of the drunken John Patter- 
 son. She had clipped the article she had read 
 on the train, and, once or twice, she had re-read 
 it after receiving such a letter from Marvin. 
 Then, the conversation with her father would 
 recur to her memory and she would put the ques- 
 tion aside. 
 
 Drury's letters were not frequent, but they 
 were long and cheerful. They were like a tonic 
 to her, and she was continually refreshed and in- 
 spired by his noble sentiments. He never re- 
 ferred to Marvin as a rival, nor did he ever twit 
 her about having other admirers. The contrast 
 between his letters and Marvin's was so great 
 that the latter would have been furious had he 
 known the effect on Dixie.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 81 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LITTLE JIM. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Miller had urged Jessie to come 
 home to them for many reasons; but she preferred 
 to remain in her new home at Sharman, that she 
 might have the presence and encouragement of 
 Maury. Mrs. Mill e r went to her in November, 
 and was gratified to find her in such superb 
 health and good spirits- There were few white 
 people at Sharman. It was a "cattleman's town/* 
 and most of the residents were Mexicans and 
 cowboys. A few of the citizens, however, were 
 desirable neighbors, and these had very natural- 
 ly been drawn to each other. Maury and Jessie 
 were already popular with everybody ; the Mexi- 
 can women vied with each other in offers of 
 service and little attentions to Jessie, and the 
 men called Maury "Patrone," a title of honor. 
 
 The eventful day drew on apace, and Jessie 
 began to show great fortitude and courage. She 
 approached the Vale of Suffering with a quiet 
 confidence that made her appear to her husband 
 more of a queen than ever. He was anxious and 
 uneasy- More than once, he wished for dear old 
 Dr. McConnell, and was on the point of wiring 
 him, when Mrs. Miller told him it would be al- 
 together impractical. She did not tell him, how- 
 ever, that she was as anxious as he for the event 
 to become history, for she had little faith in what 
 medical assistance was within call. 
 
 Bravely, and with confident and joyous an-
 
 82 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 ticipation, Jessie entered the dark Vale on Wed- 
 nesday, and, for three terrible days, she was in 
 the very jaws of Death. None of the watchers 
 expected her to return after the second day. 
 Maury wired for Dr. McConnell; but, unfortu- 
 nately, that very day, the physician had been 
 called to see Allie, who was again stricken. A 
 strong body and a determined will conquered, 
 though, and Jessie came back from the somber 
 shadows on Saturday, and brought with her a 
 young life that she considered fully worth the 
 terrible price she had paid. Her compensation 
 was increased as she saw the new tenderness in 
 her big husband. He was almost afraid to touch 
 the child for fear he would injure it. He would 
 sit speechless in the presence of this great mys- 
 tery of motherhood. It was a revelation to him 
 of the meaning of Holy Matrimony. His whole 
 being revolted at the remembrance of his early 
 ideas of womankind, and the low standards of 
 life he had made his own. When Mrs. Miller 
 put the week-old baby in his arms, he looked in- 
 to the dimpled face and wondered what his boy 
 would be like when he was old enough to run 
 about and talk. The tears came to his eyes as 
 he devoutly wished for this mite of humanity a 
 clean, happy, healthy life. He put the baby on 
 the pillow by its mother as he said: 
 
 "Let us call him 'Jim,' Sweetheart. A.nd I hope 
 he will be such a man as his Grandfather Miller." 
 
 "O Maury ! I am so glad you suggested it. That 
 is ^-hat I wanted to call him. 'Little Jim Miller 
 Tallman.' "
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 83 
 
 "Darling, you do not know how I suffered with 
 you. Those terrible days have made me a dif- 
 ferent man. I have always loved you ; now, I 
 cherish you as my own life. I am so glad you 
 survived it all, and I crave the privilege of mak- 
 ing your life happy every day you live." 
 
 "God has been good to me in giving me such 
 a dear, dear husband. I love you with all my 
 heart." 
 
 "Mother," said Jessie, one morning, when the 
 baby was three weeks old, "what can be the mat- 
 ter with Little Jim's eyes? They are swollen and 
 inflamed." 
 
 "It is the bright light, I think. He must be 
 kept in the dark for a few days, and he will get 
 all right." 
 
 Jessie called the Doctor's attention to it, and 
 he gave her a "wash" for them. Still they grew 
 worse every day until, at last, both eyes were 
 entirely closed by the swelling. The Doctor as- 
 sured them they would become normal in a few 
 days ; but a month went by and they were no 
 better. Jessie regained her strength very slowly, 
 and was able to be up only a part of the time. 
 She was, so alarmed that she insisted that they 
 take the little fellow to a specialist. Maury and 
 Mrs. Miller approved of the plan, and, on the day 
 he was two months old, Little Jim was carried 
 into the office of the celebrated Dr. Roberts. The 
 examination had not gone far when a significant 
 glance passed between the Doctor and the office 
 nurse. A treatment was given and they were 
 told to bring the child back the next day. Then
 
 84 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 began a long course of close treatment for more 
 than a month. Finally, the Doctor invited Maury 
 to dine with him, and, after the meal, took him 
 into the library and said very gently: 
 
 "Mr. Tallman, I have very sad news for you. 
 I have done my best to save your baby's eyes, 
 but I have failed. If I could have seen him soon- 
 er, I am sure I should have been successful. You 
 might take him to New York, and let Dr. Shaw 
 try his skill. However, I am sure the eyes are 
 gone beyond all possibility of recovery." 
 
 Maury Tallman was crushed at the news. He 
 sat in a daze for several minutes; then, he said, 
 in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper : 
 
 "Doctor, did I hear aright? Is it possible that 
 my child is really blind? O my God! It cannot 
 be. How can I ever tell his mother? Oh, I would 
 rather die than have Little Jim be blind ! I was 
 a fool to allow that old quack to treat him. Why 
 did I not come here at once when his eyes first 
 began to be sore!" 
 
 He covered his face with his hands, and his 
 grief was pathetic to behold. Doctor Roberts 
 had broken the same news to other fathers ; but 
 this was the most touching incident he had ex- 
 perienced in years. 
 
 "Come, Mr. Tallman, don't take it like that. 
 You have done the best you could under the cir- 
 cumstances. He is an extraordinary child, and 
 many blind children are among our best musicians 
 and students. Think of Helen Keller.' 
 
 "If you will give me a note to Dr. Shaw, I will
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 85 
 
 take the child to New York, and see what his 
 opinion is." 
 
 "Gladly. I will write him the history of the 
 case as far as my connection with it is concerned, 
 and I will be glad to know that you have turned 
 the last stone to recover the sight of the child." 
 
 Jessie was scarcely able to undertake the trip ; 
 but the excitement made her forget herself, and, 
 the next day, they started for New York. Dur- 
 ing the trip, Maury broke the news, by degrees, 
 to Jessie. He was afraid she would go down un- 
 der the blow; but he little knew that women 
 stand such things with more grace and fortitude 
 than men. They are born to trouble, and bear 
 without a murmur pain, suffering, and sorrow 
 that would kill a man. 
 
 "What did Doctor Roberts say was the cause 
 
 of the ?" Jessie could not bring herself 
 
 to speak the word just yet. 
 
 "Ophthalmia, I think he called it." 
 
 Even as Maury spoke the word, it was mean- 
 ingless and almost unheard ; for the mother-mind 
 was traveling on through the years, as she would 
 teach the little fingers to feel, and try to tell her 
 first-born of the beauties of Nature and the 
 works of man. From the first moment that she 
 fully understood the meaning of Dr. Robert's 
 report, she knew there was no hope. She did not 
 try to make her husband know how she felt 
 about it ; she was simply resigned to what she 
 realized was a certainty. 
 
 They both shrank from the other passengers, 
 who were naturally curious about the baby with
 
 86 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 the bandaged eyes. This was too sacred to share 
 with strangers. This very shrinking from others 
 drove the two sad hearts closer to each other. In 
 after years, Jessie remembered this trip, and all 
 the tender things Maury said to her, as well as the 
 pitiful look on his face as he held Little Jim to 
 relieve her. Others might misunderstand him, 
 but she knew him after that; and, through the 
 gloom of her sorrow, these three days with their 
 baby and their grief on the cars shone with a 
 soft light that mellowed her heart and made life 
 bearable. 
 
 At Birmingham, they received a message that 
 Allie was worse and another operation would be 
 performed the next week. It must have been 
 that their sorrow over the blindness of the baby 
 had exhausted their grief and rendered them 
 senseless to further shock, for they took the mat- 
 ter very calmly. 
 
 On their arrival at New York, they made an 
 engagement with the great specialist, Dr. Shaw. 
 They found him as gentle as a woman, and he 
 impressed them at once that he deserved his rep- 
 utation for skill. After the second examination, 
 he told them there was no hope of recovering the 
 sight of the child, and he deplored the lack of 
 knowledge and skill that had allowed the disease 
 to pass the stage of possible cure. 
 
 The Doctor's final decision dazed Maury, and 
 he went about as one in a trance; but Jessie 
 faced the inevitable with courage and resigna- 
 tion. She saw that her husband needed her, and 
 that he must be cheered and helped just now, or
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 87 
 
 the consequences might be fearful. With fem- 
 inine heroism, she smiled and talked of the teach- 
 ers they would employ, and of the things she 
 would teach Little Jim to do. 
 
 "Just think how much worse it might be, 
 dear," she said to him, as they were on their 
 way to Allie's bedside. He might have been 
 deformed, or he might have died. I thank God 
 for allowing us to have him, even blind. And it 
 is not as though he had ever known sight. Only 
 as we tell him will he know what he lacks." 
 
 "I know, darling ; but it is hard for me to take 
 a blind child to your father. He is such a stick- 
 ler for perfection, even in his stock, that I wanted 
 to show him a perfect child." 
 
 "Oh, surely you do not think my father will 
 be that heartless, do you! Why, you will find 
 him the most sympathetic and dearest friend 
 Little Jim will have." 
 
 "I am sure of all that. He will pity him; but 
 it is not pity I wanted. I had the fond hope that 
 we would present to your parents one of the 
 finest and most perfect grandchildren that ever 
 came into the world. My disappointment in that 
 regard is almost as keen as my grief over the 
 affliction of the baby." 
 
 "Isn't there a modicum of selfish pride in 
 that !" 
 
 "Yes, there is. But is it not a pardonable 
 pride!" 
 
 "No, I am afraid it is wrong. We have done 
 our best, and I have nothing to chide myself for, 
 nor have you."
 
 88 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "I do chide myself for delaying so long about 
 getting him to competent hands. I wish I had 
 never heard of Sharman. If we had had a real 
 doctor there, our baby would be smiling at us, in- 
 stead of lying there with his little eyes all ban- 
 daged. I tell you it is more than I can bear." 
 
 "Come, now, Maury, you must not give way 
 like this. My husband is a strong man, and he 
 can rise above all this and help me to make the 
 best of things as they are." 
 
 "Forgive me, dear. I will help you. Let me 
 nurse him a while." He took the mite in his 
 arms, and they changed the conversation. 
 
 A surprise awaited them at the station where 
 Allie lived. Maxwell was there in his automo- 
 bile, and Mr. and Mrs. Miller, accompanied by 
 Jack and Dixie, were waiting for them. Jessie 
 comprehended the meaning of it all in a moment : 
 Allie was desperately ill ! 
 
 They could not bring themselves to tell the 
 result of their visit to the specialist until they 
 arrived at the house. Dixie held the baby and 
 kept asking how his eyes were until Jessie suc- 
 ceeded in signaling to her to be quiet. Mis. Mil- 
 ler had prepared Jim by telling him her doubts 
 that the child would ever see again. The others, 
 however, knew nothing more than that the little 
 eyes were affected in some way. 
 
 In the presence of duty, Maury's strength re- 
 turned, and he took Mr. Miller aside, when they 
 arrived at the house, and told him all that had 
 "happened, saying that he had hoped to bring to
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 89 
 
 him a perfect child, but had been denied that 
 great pleasure. 
 
 Mr. Miller's face showed plainly the agony he 
 felt, as he grasped Tallman's hand and said: 
 "You have done your best, my son, and I see 
 you are unjust to yourself in the matter. If you 
 were to blame, you might have cause to feel as 
 you do; but, when all this is the result of a com- 
 bination of circumstances over which you had 
 no control, I want you to know that you have 
 my sympathy and approval. Let us make the 
 best of things as they are, and not think of what 
 might have been." 
 
 "Your words comfort me, Mr. Miller. I have 
 suffered all kinds of torment during the past two 
 weeks. It will be an abiding sorrow in my life; 
 but I shall try not to allow it to reflect itself in 
 the lives of my loved ones." 
 
 Dixie and Jack were awestricken by the calam- 
 ity. Mrs. Miller had believed from the first 
 that the affection was fatal to Little Jim's sight, 
 while Allie was suffering too acutely to give 
 expression to her thoughts more than to pull 
 Jessie's head down to her pillow and whisper her 
 love and regrets. The Wrights were as kind and 
 sympathetic as they could possibly be, and in- 
 terest was soon centered in Allie, and the opera- 
 tion that was to take place two days later.
 
 90 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ALLIE'S RELEASE. 
 
 The deepest snow that had fallen in twenty 
 years lay like a winding sheet over the land- 
 scape, and the bare trees scarcely obstructed the 
 view from the upper windows of Maxwell 
 Wright's residence. Dixie Miller had never 
 seen more than a light fall of snow, which had 
 melted within an hour or two after it fell. She 
 was awakened by the jingling of sleigh-bells 
 Tuesday morning, and, peeping from her win, 
 dow, she was entranced by the world of white- 
 ness. The ground had been bare the night be- 
 fore, and the sky overcast with gray clouds ; this 
 morning, the sky was clear, and the air crisp 
 and cold. The sun was just rising, like a ball 
 of fire, and the snow-crystals were gleaming 
 like star-dust 
 
 Already, the sleighs were breaking the roads ; 
 boys and men with shovels were clearing the 
 walks, and the desire to get out and feel the 
 tingle made Dixie dress hurriedly. She called 
 Jack, and, very soon, the two were on the lawn, 
 frolicking like young animals. All the snow 
 they had ever seen had been wet; but this was 
 light and dry. It flew everywhere, and one 
 could not make a hard ball of it. They found 
 great sport in shaking showers of it from the 
 shrubbery and trees, and in rolling in the deep 
 banks of it along the walks. Dixie remarked 
 that it almost took the place of her plunge in
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 91 
 
 the pool at Tamalpias, while Jack declared that 
 it was more sport than riding the waves at Gal- 
 veston. 
 
 Jessie was awakened by their shouts of glee, 
 and aroused Maury. Neither of them had seen 
 a heavy snow before, and they gazed like chil- 
 dren at the white wonder. 
 
 "Let's show Little Jim!" cried Jessie. Then, 
 she remembered and, together, they turned from 
 the glorious sight to the sleeping babe. 
 
 Below, in the great old-fashioned four-poster, 
 Allie lay. This was the day appointed for the 
 operation. She had rested well through the 
 night, and, now, she was watching Jack and 
 Dixie playing in the snow near her window. 
 It was a sight so inspiring that the nurse 
 propped her up that she might take ,in f the 
 whole scene. Presently, Maxwell came into the 
 room and greeted her. 
 
 "Look, dear, isn't it beautiful! O the pure, 
 white snow. I never saw so much of it before." 
 
 "Yes, little woman, it is beautiful, and pure, 
 and white, but not more so than my darling 
 wife. I am so glad you have rested well 
 through the night, and that you are so much 
 better prepared to stand the ordeal of today 
 than we had hoped you would be. How I wish 
 I could take your place and bear it all for you." 
 
 "I am glad you can't. You have a great fu- 
 ture before you. The world needs you; it can 
 get along without me better than many an- 
 other." 
 
 "I do wish you would bef more hopeful, Allie,
 
 93 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 I am sure you will get along all right. Why, 
 you will be well again in a few months, and we 
 will go to Canada again in the summer." 
 
 A smile flitted over her face. "That summer 
 was worth all. Weren't we happy!" 
 
 "Yes, It was a paradise without a serpent in 
 it." 
 
 "Indeed it was!" 
 
 Then, after a pause: "Do you remember my 
 dream, Maxwell?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember. Why?" 
 
 "I fear I will not awaken this time before the 
 white horse carries me away," she said, very 
 calmly, the while stroking his hair with a pale 
 hand. 
 
 "Darling, I can't give you up now. You must 
 stay with me a while longer. Please take cour- 
 age and determine that you will live and get 
 well again." He was restraining himself to the 
 limit of his will-power for her sake. She would 
 need all her strength if she came back from the 
 Valley. 
 
 Slowly, she shook her head and looked over 
 the snow-covered estate. 
 
 "I do not fear to go. There is only one thing 
 that I would care to live for my dear boy's 
 sake. Nothing else matters. I know you will 
 be always true and good ; and I have your prom- 
 ise to be of service to the world. You have be- 
 gun to live on a higher plane these last few 
 months, and I am sure you will so live that we 
 shall meet again where there will be 'no more
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 93 
 
 curse/ and God will wipe all tears from our 
 eyes. Tell me, dear boy, that, no matter what 
 comes, you will take care of yourself and make 
 the very best of life." 
 
 "O Allie, my wife, my idol. I will. Whether 
 you live or die, I shall be a better man than I 
 ever would have been, had I not met you. But 
 I just can not give up hope that you will get 
 well." 
 
 "God knows I would not talk to you this 
 way, my dear Maxwell, if I did not feel sure 
 that it is our last sweet conference together. The 
 Doctor has set ten o'clock as the hour, because 
 he wants me to have the advantage of the morn- 
 ing freshness. Kiss me now, dear, then come 
 to me a few moments, after breakfast. I shall 
 want to see each of my loved ones a moment. 
 Tell Dr. McConnell to come in and be with me 
 while I talk to them." 
 
 The nurse insisted that she must rest, and 
 Maxwell swallowed his sobs and left the room. 
 He went immediately to his own room, how- 
 ever, and there gave way to the torrent of 
 grief that he had kept pent up in his breast 
 while he talked with the invalid. When he did 
 not appear at breakfast, Maury went to his 
 room to look for him, and there the two men 
 comforted each other. It was hard to tell 
 whose sorrow was the keenest, that of the hus- 
 band who was facing the grim reaper who was 
 ready to snatch away the wife of his bosom, or 
 that of the father whose baby son was doomed 
 to a life of darkness. It is here set down to the
 
 94 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 credit of both that each found a balm for his 
 wound in trying to comfort the other. 
 
 The gloom deepened and spread, until it en- 
 compassed the whole household. Even young, 
 vigorous Jack was overcome by it. Jessie found 
 herself weak and almost sick from her long trip, 
 and Dixie was of such a sympathetic nature that 
 she remarked to her mother that it seemed 
 strange God would make everything so da7- 
 zlingly white outside, when there was so much 
 sadness and gloom within. Mrs. Miller was 
 everywhere, cheering this one and encouraging 
 that one, waiting on Jessie, nursing the baby, 
 counseling Maxwell, and keeping Jim from being 
 lonesome and sad. 
 
 It was evident that Dr. McConnell was not at 
 all optimistic about the result of the operation. 
 He even dropped a few hints that were intended 
 to prepare the family for the worst. He was in 
 the sick-room at nine o'clock, when the family 
 came in to see Allie, and he shrewdly managed 
 to keep them all in good cheer, and led the con- 
 versation away from the serious. It took all his 
 tact to accomplish this end, for the patient 
 wanted to talk to them as she had to her hus- 
 band. At last, she kissed each, and told them 
 good-by in a manner that left nothing to be said 
 in reply, and the Doctor and the nurse got them 
 out of the room as quickly as possible. Maxwell 
 had a few minutes with her, then went to his 
 room to suffer the untold agonies of suspense 
 and uncertainty until the ordeal should be over. 
 
 Dr. Duncan and his assistants arrived promptly
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 95 
 
 at ten. It was unusual for him to agree to 
 operate outside of the hospital; but he made an 
 exception in this case because the hospital was 
 crowded, and it would be easy to make the room 
 in the home sanitary. Indeed, it was already so 
 under his careful instructions. 
 
 Again, one of the Miller twins entered the 
 Valley of Shadows and took the leading part on 
 the stage of tragedy. The dark, shrouded form 
 of Death peered with hungry, lustful eyes over 
 the shoulders of the surgeons, while white-winged 
 angels hovered near to cheat the monster of his 
 victim even if he should gain the victory. It 
 was a tense hour, and pulses quickened and 
 slowed as the pendulum of life swung back and 
 forth. Dr. McConnell, holding the pulse of the 
 woman at whose birth he had attended, scarcely 
 breathed as he watched the progress of the battle. 
 Twice, he was compelled to ask the great sur- 
 geon to wait until the pulse of the patient re- 
 covered somewhat. 
 
 At last, it was finished, and only the closing 
 of the wound remained to be accomplished. Dr. 
 Duncan shook his head and said : 
 
 "It is just as well, if she had recovered, she 
 would have been a hopeless, suffering invalid, 
 and, very likely, she would have been insane. 
 Very few escape insanity after an operation like 
 this." 
 
 Dr. McConnell dropped the wrist he was 
 holding and turned away, sobbing like a school- 
 boy. He loved Jim Miller's children, even as 
 they loved him. It is a sad day that sees the
 
 96 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 passing of these dear old family doctors. They 
 did not know as much medical science as the 
 physicians of today; but they knew human 
 hearts better, and their kindly smiles and tender 
 touch were worth more than their medicine in 
 many cases. Their knowledge pf the family, and 
 its history and predispositions, gave them a won- 
 derful advantage. Among the heroes of America, 
 let us never forget the Old Family Doctor. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, the doctors left the room, 
 but the reaper, Death, remained, and the angels 
 hovered closer over the quiet form of Allie. The 
 family came, and the husband. They knew, 
 now, why her last word had been "good-by." 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wright had come, and Maxwell 
 needed them. His quiet grief was pitiful to be- 
 hold. For two hours, they watched as black 
 pinions and white drew closer and closer. At 
 times, they thought both had departed, but the 
 beloved one was going to sleep very quietly. 
 No one saw them, and none heard the rustle of 
 their wings; however, they were there, and, soon 
 after noon, the band of angels snatched up the 
 lily Death had cut down, and bore it out and 
 away from the snow-clad earth, beyond the 
 shining sun, and out to the City not made with 
 hands. 
 
 When she was gone, her old "black mammy," 
 who had been lurking near the door, came and 
 knelt beside the bed in uncontrollable grief. 
 
 "O God," she cried, "didn't I say dem clouds 
 You done gib 'em dat weddin'-day meant nothin' 
 but sorrer and def? He-er's my po' baby-twin
 
 JIM MILLKR'S GIRLS 97 
 
 done gone home to Glory, and he-er's Little Jim 
 all blin', and neber will see no mo'. O God, I 
 wants ter die, too. Marse Jim, luk at dat sweet 
 angel-chile. Ain't she dat purty, jes' lak a lily- 
 bud? Ole Missus, I sho' lubs yo' all, an' I wishes 
 ter God I could b'ar it all fer you. Come he-er, 
 Miss Jessie, you po' dahlin' chile, and let me see 
 yo' all together once mo' fo' I dies." 
 
 Thus, with family, husband, black mammy, 
 and family physician about her, Allie Miller was 
 released from the curse that lies on womankind. 
 The tragedy had been enacted, and hungry, lust- 
 ful Death had glutted himself on his victim. But 
 only for a while; for, at the resurrection of the 
 just, he will have to give up the body, even as he 
 was cheated of the soul of his victim, and all 
 through the Child of a woman. Ah, then we 
 will cry in derision: "O Grave, where is thy 
 victory, Death, where is thy sting!" 
 
 They carried the body back to the Sunny 
 South and laid it by the grandparents in the 
 beautiful cemetery at Tamalpias. The transition 
 from the frozen North to the lilacs and hyacinths 
 of the South seemed like a symbol of her going 
 from this cold, cruel world to the plains of 
 Paradise. The whole town went to the cemetery, 
 even to the negroes for miles around. Maxwell 
 Wright was given a glimpse of Southern sym- 
 pathy and hospitality that he had never dreamed 
 existed ; and his parents, who had come with 
 him, saw things far different from what they had 
 expected. Indeed, these are the incidents that 
 teach us most effectively that we are one people, 
 and that our joys and sorrows are the same, and
 
 98 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 our interests are identical, North and South. 
 
 The Wrights remained with the Millers for 
 two months, and Maury and Jessie took up their 
 burden and their blind child and went back to 
 the little town near the Rio Grande. Dixie re- 
 turned to school, and old Rilla went about the 
 place forlorn and uncomforted. 
 
 Drury Patterson wrote to both Dixie and her 
 father, and offered condolence and sympathy. 
 Marvin Harris wrote to Dixie also; but he used 
 it more as an occasion for pressing his suit for 
 her hand than for trying to heal the wound in 
 her heart. He did not tell her that he was paying 
 attention to Thelma Dawson; however, she had 
 heard of it during the few days she was at home. 
 Nor did she care; she was glad that he was at- 
 tracted to some one else. It only disgusted her 
 that he should write to her like that when she 
 was sure he was saying the same things to 
 Thelma. 
 
 The Wrights left for home on May-day, when 
 the fields were green and the flowers blooming 
 in luxury everywhere. The symbol had changed 
 ior Maxwell Wright, now. He felt that his life 
 from now on would be like the bare trees of New 
 York State, which had been retarded by a very 
 late spring. If he had gone away sorrowing, he 
 came back sad, but not as sad as he would be 
 when his eyes were opened to the secret of the 
 Great Tragedy, and he was destined to be in- 
 itiated into that secret in the near future. There 
 is no curse without a just cause, and the cause 
 lies nearer, mankind than it does to the Creator. 
 Remove the cause and the curse will vanish.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A STARTLING REVELATION. 
 
 Mrs. Miller dropped the magazine she was 
 reading, and looked at her husband with such a 
 pall of terror showing in her face, that he started 
 from his chair and made quick inquiry. 
 
 "What is the matter, Mollie? Are you ill? 
 You are as pale as a corpse." 
 
 "Jack, please leave the room ; I want to speak 
 to your father." 
 
 Jack left the room, and Mrs. Miller turned to 
 reply to her husband's question. 
 
 "No, I am not ill. James, do you believe it is 
 possible that, if a young man sows wild oats, his 
 wife and children will have to bear the conse- 
 quences ?" 
 
 "In what way? What do you mean?" 
 
 "Well, here is an article by Miss Helen Kel- 
 ler, the remarkable blind woman, in which she 
 declares that social sin is the most common cause 
 of blindness, and that " 
 
 It was not like Jim Miller to be rude : but he 
 strode across the room and snatched the maga- 
 zine from her lap, saying: 
 
 "Where is it? Show it to me." 
 
 "Here, the first thing in the magazine." 
 
 She watched him as he read it, watched his 
 face grow red, then white, and finally ashen. 
 Then, as he finished, she heard his teeth click, 
 and saw his lips compress, as he rose and started 
 to leave the room with the journal in his hand-
 
 100 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Where are you going, James?" she asked. 
 
 "I am going to interview Dr. McConnell. I'll 
 be back in a short time; don't \vo-ry, dear." 
 
 It took him only a moment to crank the big 
 red machine, which he had recently purchased, 
 and, ten minutes later, he was standing in the 
 Doctor's office, exclaming: 
 
 "Dr. McConnell, I want you to tell me the 
 truth, and the whole truth. Is it possible that 
 the suffering and death of my child, the affliction 
 of my grandchild, and the invalidism of my 
 daughter, Jessie, is due to the dissolute habits of 
 the men who married my twins?" 
 
 "My dear Mr. Miller, you are plainly excited. 
 Pray sit down and tell me what you mean." 
 
 "'This is what I mean. Here is an article by 
 Helen Keller, the blind voung woman who has 
 gained a college education through her finger- 
 tips. I want to read it to you and ask you some 
 questions." 
 
 "Very well, but allow me to say before you 
 begin that most articles of that kind are written 
 by novices, who know very little of the subjects 
 on which they write, and they generally exag- 
 gerate the facts and paint them to appeal to the 
 public/' 
 
 "That may be true, indeed I am sure it is, in 
 most cases ; but, if it is so in this instance, you 
 will know it. This is a scientific subject, and we 
 may arrive at the facts. It is for that reason I 
 have come to you. You have known me and 
 mine for twenty-five years; I trust you implicitly,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 101" 
 
 and shall expect you to give me the unvarnished 
 truth in this matter." 
 
 "I shall do my best for you, Jim. Now, read 
 the article to me." 
 
 "In order that you may get the whole matter 
 before you in a comprehensive way. I will read 
 the article, and then we can talk about it. She 
 says: 
 
 "Once I believed that blindness, deafness, 
 tuberculosis, and other causes of human suffer- 
 ing, were necessary, unpreventable ; I believed 
 that we must accept blind eyes, deaf ears, dis- 
 eased lungs as we accept the havoc of tornadoes 
 and deluges, and that we must bear with them 
 with as much fortitude as we could gather from 
 religion and philosophy. But gradually my read- 
 ing extended, and I found that those evils are to 
 be laid, not at the door of Providence, but at the 
 door of mankind ; that they are, in a large meas- 
 ure, due to ignorance, stupidity, and sin. 
 
 "The most common cause of blindness is 
 ophthalmia of the new-born. One pupil in every 
 three in the Institute for the Blind in New York 
 City was blinded in infancy by this disease ; 
 nearly all of the sixteen babes in the Sunshine 
 Home, in Brooklyn ; six hundred sightless per- 
 sons in the State of New York ; between six 
 thousand and seven thousand persons m the 
 United States, were plunged into darkness by 
 ophthalmia of the new-born. 
 
 "What is the cause of ophthalmia neonatori- 
 um? It is a specific germ communicated to the 
 child by the mother at birth. Previous to the
 
 102 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 child's birth, she has unconsciously received it 
 through infection from her husband. In mercy 
 let it be remembered, the father does not know 
 he has so foully destroyed the eyes of his child 
 and handicapped him for life. It is a part of the 
 bitter harvest of the 'Wild Oats' he has sown. 
 Society has smiled on his 'youthful recklessness,' 
 because Society does not know that 'they en- 
 slave their children's children who make com- 
 promise with sin.' 
 
 "Society has yet to learn that the blind beggar 
 at the street corner, the epileptic child, the wo- 
 man on the operating table, are the wages of 
 'youthful indiscretion.' Today, science is veri- 
 fying what the Old .Testament taughth three 
 thousands years ago, and the time has come when 
 there is no longer the excuse of ignorance. 
 Knowledge has been given us ; it is our part to 
 apply it. 
 
 "Of the consequences of social sin, blindness 
 is by no means the most terrible. The same in- 
 fection that blots out the eyes of the baby is re- 
 sponsible for many childless homes; for thou- 
 sands of cases of lifelong invalidism; for eighty 
 per cent, of all the inflammatory diseases peculiar 
 to woman; and for seventy-five per cent, of all 
 operations performed on mothers to save their 
 lives." 
 
 Jim Miller stopped and sobbed. The tears were 
 blinding his eyes and a thousand emotions were 
 struggling within him for supremacy. The old 
 Doctor sat very quiet. His eyes, too, were full 
 of tears, and he was dreading the talk that must
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 103 
 
 follow- But Jim Miller had not finished reading. 
 
 "The day has come when women must face the 
 truth. They can not escape the evil unless they 
 have the knowledge that saves. Must we leave 
 young girls to meet the danger in the dark be- 
 cause we dare not turn the light on our social 
 wickedness? False delicacy and prudery must 
 give place to precise information and common 
 sense. It is high time to abolish falsehood and 
 let the plain truth come in. Out with the 
 cowardice that shuts the eyes to immorality that 
 causes disease and human misery. I am confi- 
 dent that, when the people know the truth, the day 
 of deliverance for mother and child will be at hand. 
 
 "We must set to work, in the right direction, 
 the three great agencies which inform and edu- 
 cate us : the Church, the School, and the Press. 
 If they remain silent, obdurate, they must bear 
 the odium that recoils upon evil-doers. They 
 may not listen, at first, to our pleas for light and 
 knowledge. They may combine to baffle us ; but 
 there will rise, again and again, to confront 
 them, the beseeching forms of little children 
 deaf, blind, crooked of limb, and vacant of 
 mind." 
 
 The latter part of the article was read brok- 
 enly, and there were many pauses to allow the 
 lump that was in the reader's throat to recede. 
 As he finished, the paper fell from his hands, and 
 he sat for some minutes as one dazed. He was 
 uncertain how to begin the questions that he felt 
 were already answered. At last, he laid a hand on 
 the Doctor's knee, and asked :
 
 104 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Tell me, Doctor, is it all true?" 
 
 "I am sorry to have to tell you that you may 
 consider Miss Keller an authority on the subject. 
 She has written wisely and well." 
 
 "I am to understand, then, that my child died, 
 after her awful suffering, because she married 
 a man who had sowed wild oats?" 
 
 "I was present at both operations, and I can 
 speak advisedly: undoubtedly, Allie's trouble was 
 solely the result of this infection." 
 
 "And my child went to the surgeon's table and 
 to her grave, the innocent victim of the 'neces- 
 sary evil.' O my God ! Is it possible !" 
 
 Dr. McConnell had never seen a strong man 
 so moved as Jim Miller was that day, as he faced 
 the truth about social sin. 
 
 "Don't take it so hard, my friend. It is ter- 
 rible, I know ; but it is only one case out of 
 multiplied thousands. All about you are the 
 victims of this same monster." 
 
 Jim looked up, and there was despair in his 
 voice as he asked: "And Little Jim that is the 
 cause of his blindness?" 
 
 "Dr. Roberts says it is ophthalmia." 
 
 "And did you know all this before my girls 
 married?" 
 
 "Not as I know it now- You see, we are just 
 discovering these things. I knew that many of 
 our troubles arose from the profligate lives of our 
 young men; but I have learned much in that re- 
 gard within the last two years." 
 
 "You must have known whether Maury Tall- 
 man was fit to marry my child."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 105 
 
 "Do you forget that we talked of that very 
 thing before the twins married, and I told you 
 that I was sure Mr. Wright had sown wild oats. 
 You treated the matter lightly, then." 
 
 "That is what is killing me. I prided myself 
 in my stock, and I would not breed even a hog 
 to a defective animal ; but I gave my girls away 
 to diseased men. What a fool I have been. Oh, 
 by a thousand times, I would rather my twins 
 had died in infancy than that they should have 
 come to this!" 
 
 "But you did not know." 
 
 "No, I did not know. And why? Because of 
 the 'ethics' of the medical profession. Every 
 doctor who knows of these things, and then lets 
 his patients go on and marry under such circum- 
 stances is a party to the crime. Would you al- 
 low your own child to marry such a man?" 
 
 "I am glad you ask that question. You will 
 not be so bitter toward me when you know that 
 I have been fighting for six months to keep my 
 daughter, Mrs. Hawks, off the operating table, 
 and I suspect I have lost the battle. No, I did 
 not exactly know that Bert Hawks was not fit to 
 marry her; but I knew that he had led a fast 
 life. So you see, I, too, have had my awaken- 
 ing, and I can sympathize with you as few 
 men can. I have determined to use my utmost en- 
 deavor to protect innocent lives hereafter, no differ- 
 ence what the cost to me." 
 
 "You infer that all men who have been 'fast' 
 are physically unfit to marry. Is that true?" 
 
 "Yes! Recent investigations disclose the fact
 
 106 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 that four out of five young men over eighteen 
 years old have been infected by the germs God 
 has appointed to live in the wild oats patch to 
 punish all who enter there. And, once diseased, 
 they are never fit to marry your daughter or 
 mine." 
 
 "Then why, in the name of womanhood, 
 haven't we laws on our statute-books forbidding 
 them to marry?" 
 
 "That is coming. I hope to live until the time 
 when all applicants for marriage license will have 
 to get certificates from reputable physicians at- 
 testing to their physical fitness to marry." 
 
 For some minutes, Jim Miller looked out of 
 the window at the clouds all tinged with the 
 glow of sunset. Then, he turned and spoke with 
 great earnestness. 
 
 "Would to God I had known all this three 
 years ago. I feel something akin to murder in 
 my heart toward the men who have ruined my 
 daughters. But I must grip myself and do my 
 best for all concerned. We have laws on our 
 statute-books for the protection of our cattle, 
 horses, hogs, and even for our dogs and wild 
 birds ; but, while we have the inspector writing 
 a permit to move cattle that are free of ticks, 
 the minister is marrying our children to persons 
 who have all kinds of diseases. It is a travesty 
 on the name of civilization. I shall offer myself 
 as a candidate for the next legislature, and my 
 platform will be along these lines. Meantime, I 
 want you to promise me that you will give me 
 a report on any young man I may send to you 
 for examination before he can marry Dixie. That
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 107 
 
 man does not live who can get my consent to 
 marry her until I am satisfied on this point. I 
 haven't another daughter to sacrifice on the altar 
 of our social wickedness." 
 
 "Jim Miller, you are a real man. I believe 
 God has allowed all this to come to you to 
 arouse you for the defense of future generations. 
 Send your man to me whenever you get ready, 
 and I will exhaust my skill for the protection of 
 your other child. Also I will help you in your 
 fight by giving you all the data and help I can." 
 
 "I thank you, Dr. McConnell. I shall rely on 
 your assistance in many ways. I am going to 
 have this article by Miss Keller printed and use 
 it in my campaign ; and, if you see other articles 
 along this line, clip them for me. This State is 
 going to have some light on this subject whether 
 I am elected or not-" 
 
 Jim Miller stood in the gathering gloom of the 
 Doctor's office, and, to the man of medicine, he 
 looked like a Moses in dignity, a Daniel in pur- 
 psoe, and a Lincoln in calm determination to 
 emancipate the millions of women and children 
 that seemed to cry to him out of their bondage 
 to the passions of depraved manhood. Silently, 
 they shook hand, and Jim Miller went down the 
 stairs and got into his automobile. His first in- 
 tention was to drive home to his wife; but he 
 did not feel ready to tell her what he knew and 
 felt, so he drove the car down the river-road. The 
 full moon was rising over the tree-tops and the 
 evening air felt gracious to his hot brow. Five 
 miles from town, he stopped the car on the bank
 
 108 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 of the clear stream, and sat listening to the night- 
 sounds about him. Across the river, a whippoor- 
 will was calling to his mate, somewhere a cow 
 was lowing, and all nature was tranquil and beau- 
 tiful. The lines of the poet came to him with 
 new meaning: 
 
 "Only man is vile." 
 
 Then, he gazed up at the stars. Somewhere, 
 out there, his child was beyond the reach of it 
 all. He bared his head and sighed deeply. Then, 
 he reached out a hand toward the twinkling stars 
 and cried: 
 
 "O Allie, my beautiful child. I shall give my 
 life to save others from the Valley of Shadows. 
 If only I may do that, I shall not have lived in 
 vain. That shall be my revenge, and I will leave 
 all else to God-" 
 
 Then, he turned the car toward home. 
 
 Mrs. Miller was waiting for him with great 
 anxiety. She wanted to know the result of his 
 interview, and he had been gone so long that she 
 was frightened. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, dear," he said gently. "I 
 was longer than I thought. I could not' come 
 back until I had time to think, so I drove down 
 the river, and, see, I am calm now- The storm has 
 passed, and I am a better man." 
 
 He told her the whole horrible truth. He 
 knew she was strong enough to bear it, for she 
 was the mother of that other woman who had 
 so nobly borne the shock of her child's blindness. 
 It is uncertainty that kills a woman, and it was a 
 relief to this one to know the things her husband
 
 JIM MILLER'8 GIRLS 109 
 
 had to tell her. Most of it was a revelation to 
 her ; she had been reared far away from the wick- 
 edness of the towns and cities, and knew nothing 
 of their vice. 
 
 When he had finished, she looked up into his 
 face and said : "James, dear, I am so glad God 
 gave me a pure man for a husband." 
 
 "Yes, darling wife, I met you at the altar as 
 pure as I expected you to be- I never went into 
 the wild oats patch ; my mother stood between 
 me and that kind of life. I could not go there 
 thinking of her. I thank God she saved me, and 
 thus saved you, and our children. But to think 
 that two of our girls have become victims of 
 men who think their sin a 'necessary evil' makes 
 my blood surge in my veins. That is the thing 
 I have had to conquer today." 
 
 "I am so glad you have conquered. We will 
 leave their punishment to One who is wiser than 
 we- Oh, what a cruel world! And to think of 
 the thousands that are suffering what Jessie is 
 suffering, and hordes are going to their graves 
 as Allie went. Can we do nothing to save 
 them?" 
 
 "That is another question [ have settled this 
 evening. I told Dr. McConnell that I am going 
 to offer for the next legislature, and I shall try 
 to pass some laws for the control of this very 
 matter. I have not had time to think it all out 
 yet, but I am sure there will be a way to regulate 
 the marriage contract so that a girl will be safe 
 in going to the altar with a man. And we will 
 have to plan to educate our young, too. We can
 
 110 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 only hope to have restrictive laws as an expedi- 
 ent until we can educate the next generation." 
 
 "How you cheer my heart, James. I want to 
 help you in this great work. We will just give 
 our lives to it. We have money enough to make 
 an effective campaign, and it will be so much 
 better than giving your time to improving 
 stock." 
 
 "Yes, I will give the same attention, and more, 
 to the improvement of men that I have always 
 given to horses and cattle. It is a great under- 
 taking for a man who has never been a platform 
 speaker. I will have to learn politics, and I will 
 have to study this question until T become an 
 authority on it. I shall go to the city tomorrow 
 and provide myself with the best library to be 
 had, and I shall consult the best medical au- 
 thority in the State. I wish I was twenty years 
 younger." 
 
 "You will do better that you are a mature 
 man. I am proud of you tonight, my husband. 
 God bless you, and may you accomplish this 
 great thing for the race.**
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 111 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DIXIE'S PROMISE. 
 
 The next morning Jim Miller left his break- 
 fast untasted, and took a long walk up the creek 
 to Indian Bluff. He had slept little, and he was 
 having a battle yet this morning. Dixie would 
 be home from school during the week, and his 
 concern for her was deep. He had decided that 
 he must warn her of the danger that had taken 
 her sisters unawares; but how to go about it, and 
 just how much to tell her; how to bring the mes- 
 sage home to her heart without giving her a 
 shock or embittering her against all mankind, 
 and the problem of her having so fully given 
 Drury Patterson her heart that she would marry 
 him anyway; these were the questions that he 
 pondered as he sat on the Bluff and watched a 
 pair of white cranes catching fish in the creek 
 below. 
 
 The Bluff was of soft stone, and every visitor 
 had scratched his or her name on the smooth 
 surface. His eyes caught the names of Jessie 
 and Maury written together, and then Allie's 
 and Maxwell Wright's, with the date, "April 
 
 20, 19 " That was the day they had become 
 
 engaged, and he turned sick at heart as he looked 
 at the inscription. It was as though he was 
 at her grave and this was her tombstone. Then, 
 he saw Dixie's name, and Drury Patterson's un-
 
 112 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 der it, and the date was not quite a year in the 
 past. He could stand no more, so he crawled down 
 and walked back across the fields. 
 
 His face was so white and drawn when his 
 wife came to the parlor to answer his summons, that 
 she inquired if he was feeling badly. 
 
 "Yes, Mollie, I am heart-sick. I have been 
 trying to solve the problem of protecting Dixie 
 from the tragedy that has overtaken her sisters, 
 and I have come to the settled conviction that 
 there is only one way to do it. She must be told 
 the truth about the whole matter, and warned 
 against marrying such a man." 
 
 "I agree with you on that. I, too, have been 
 thinking, and I am concerned for both of the 
 children. You must talk to Dixie; you can do 
 that better than I can. I can talk to Jack, and 
 will do so ; but I want you to talk to Dixie." 
 
 "I have fought all that out; I want to talk to 
 her so she will have confidence in me to protect 
 her, and I want to impress her so deeply that 
 she will not allow her heart to influence her head 
 when the test comes." 
 
 "I am going to have Jack read the article by 
 Miss Keller ; then, I am going to talk to him. I 
 want him to be as pure as his sister." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, I am going to the city today, 
 as I had planned, and I shall come back by 
 Traskwood, and bring Dixie home with me." 
 
 It was a week later that Jim Miller sent for 
 his daughter to come to the library. When Dixie 
 entered the room, she found him sitting with his
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 113 
 
 face in his hands. She went to him and put her 
 hand on his head. 
 
 "What is it, Daddy?" 
 
 "Sit down, Dixie, I want to talk to you. Do 
 you believe your father loves you?" 
 
 "Why Daddy, what a question ! I know you 
 love me." 
 
 "Well, out of the love I bear you, my child, 
 I want to talk very seriously to you this morn- 
 ing. You are almost a mature woman, and I 
 hope you will not be shocked at what I have to 
 say. I would rather, however, be tied to a post 
 and lashed with a horsewhip, than to have to 
 tell you this sad story. I have always been a 
 proud man too proud but I am humbled today 
 with the knowledge that my sex is weak and 
 wicked. We talked frankly about alcoholism 
 last year. But that is a simple question com- 
 pared with this. I have an article here that I 
 want to read to you. Then, we must plan for 
 your protection." 
 
 When the reading was done, he told her all ; 
 and, noble girl that she was, she saw his suffer- 
 ing and made it easier for him by looking him 
 in the face the while, and speaking a word now 
 and then to put him at his ease- As he finished 
 telling her of his plans and purposes, he took 
 her hand in his and said: 
 
 "And now, daughter, I want you to promise 
 me that you will not marry Drury Patterson nor 
 any other man until he shall bring me a certificate 
 from the physician that I select that he has never 
 been contaminated by these diseases."
 
 114 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 She looked at him steadily for a full minute. 
 Then, she flung her arms about his neck, and 
 sobbed : 
 
 "Daddy, will you protect me like that?" 
 
 "Yes, child, with every drop of blood in my 
 veins." 
 
 "You are the best daddy in the world. Of 
 course, I will promise you. I do promise. How 
 I do love you, and how I admire your courage in 
 talking to me about it, when I could tell you 
 were suffering in the effort." 
 
 "Suffer! Oh, how I have suffered since I found 
 all this out, only last week! I had a battle about 
 telling you, partly because of my proud disposi- 
 tion, and partly because it is a delicate subject 
 ior a father to talk to his grown daughter 
 about." 
 
 "But is it not a father's place to talk to his 
 daughter when there is so much at stake?" 
 
 "That is true. Yet it does not make the task 
 any the less delicate. Thank God, it is done, and 
 I want you to have all confidence in me. When- 
 ever you want me to, I will investigate the man 
 who wants to marry you. I shall not try to pre- 
 vent your marrying ; for there are pure, good men, 
 and I shall be glad to receive any man as a son- 
 in-law, if you love him, and he is worthy to be 
 your husband." 
 
 "What do you think of Drury?" 
 
 "I am pretty well satisfied that he is a gentle- 
 man in every sense of the word. But we can 
 not afford to make any mistakes, and he will have
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 115 
 
 to undergo the same tests that any other man 
 would." 
 
 "Of course; but I am sure he is clean." 
 
 "That is my only fear about the future. Surely 
 'love covers a multitude of sins/ and most women 
 will marry the man they love even if they know 
 they are to suffer by it." 
 
 "But I will not. I will never marry any man 
 unless he can come to me as pure as I go to him." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say it. I had rather 
 you would die today, than that you live to suffer 
 as Allie did, or that you should be the mother 
 of a child like Little Jim." 
 
 "Does Mother know all this?" 
 
 "Yes ; she and I talked it all over, and she asked 
 me to talk to you. Go and tell her to come here." 
 
 When she came, Dixie repeated her promise to 
 them both. Mrs. Miller slipped her arm about 
 the girl's waist and drew her to her heart. 
 
 "My child, you have the best father in the 
 world." 
 
 "That's what I told him. And I have the sweet- 
 est mother in the world, too. Haven't I, Daddy?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed !" 
 
 The two old lovers kissed each other ; then, 
 they kissed the daughter whom they were under- 
 taking to protect. It was a great day in the 
 Miller household. Jim Miller performed another 
 hard task that day. He wrote to Maxwell 
 Wright. Kindly, yet plainly, he told him what 
 he had discovered, and asked him to read the 
 article Miss Keller had written ; and he advised 
 him that he must never marry another woman,
 
 116 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 lest he bring her down as Allie had gone. His 
 hardest task was to keep back the reproach he 
 felt; but he succeeded wonderfully. The intimate 
 acquaintance with the Wright family gave him 
 more charity than he would have had otherwise. 
 
 He made two or three attempts to write to 
 Maury Tallman ; but, each time, he tore the let- 
 ter up, and ended by deciding to wait until he 
 could talk to him face to face. Who knows 
 whether he made a mistake or not? It will take 
 eternity to reveal. 
 
 Although Dixie was sure of Drury's innocence, 
 she found herself under a peculiar restraint when 
 in his presence. He noticed it and twitted her 
 pleasantly about it; but she could not overcome 
 it. She studied his parents more closely than she 
 had ever done before. She visited Mrs. Patter- 
 son in her home, and she was delighted to find 
 her a cultured woman. She was crushed by the 
 dissipation of her husband, and by their financial 
 straits; but she impressed Dixie as a fine char- 
 acter who had been limited by her environment. 
 
 Drury was making fine progress in his study 
 of medicine, and, during this summer, he was 
 working a^the Palace Drug Store. He had had 
 his eyes opened to a great deal by hearing the 
 lectures at the University, and his astonishment 
 was great when he found how wicked young 
 men of the little village of Tamalpias were. Dr. 
 McConnell took much interest in him, and told 
 him much. He even secured the article Jim 
 Miller had read to him, and had the young man 
 read it. His delight was great when Drury ex-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 117 
 
 pressed himself very clearly on the subject, and 
 told him how glad he was that he had never sowed 
 wild oats. Encouraged by this, the Doctor told him 
 of his interview with Jim Miller, and of that man's 
 plans for the salvation of the race, also of his deci- 
 sion that only a clean man could have his daughter. 
 
 "I certainly am thankful you have told me all 
 this, Doctor. Perhaps you know I have been cor- 
 responding with Miss Dixie?" 
 
 "No," exclaimed the Doctor, in some surprise, 
 "I did not know that, or perhaps I should not 
 have spoken so frankly." . 
 
 "I am glad you did speak freely to me. I love 
 Dixie Miller, and I thank God I am worthy, phy- 
 sically, to marry her when I get through school 
 and am settled. If I was not clean, I would 
 never marry. I am in favor of Mr. Miller's pro- 
 posed laws, and am sure he will have no opposi- 
 tion except from those who could not get the cer- 
 tificates. I shall keep myself pure, never doubt 
 that." 
 
 "I have always liked you, Drury, and I want 
 you to finish school and come into this office 
 with me. I am getting old and shall have to 
 retire within a few years, and I want you to suc- 
 ceed me in my large practice." 
 
 "You embarrass me, Doctor. I appreciate 
 your most kind offer, and, if I should decide to 
 settle down to a general practice, nothing would 
 suit me better. But I am seriously inclined to 
 surgery. If I should become a surgeon, I want to 
 be the very best, and would likely have to locate 
 in a city."
 
 118 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Dr. McConnell looked at the boy for several 
 seconds before replying. His own son had disap- 
 pointed him; for he had wanted Tom to be a 
 surgeon, but Tom had frittered away his school- 
 days with athletics, and now was a worn-out 
 baseball player. If only Tom had been such a 
 young man as this child of drunken John Patter- 
 son! Then, he spoke to Drury again. 
 
 "There is only one lion in your path, son, and 
 that is the beast that slew your father's man- 
 hood and will-power. You may not know it, but 
 it is a fact that a child inherits his father's ap- 
 petites and passions, as well as his predisposi- 
 tions to disease. Have you ever desired to 
 drink any kind of stimulants?" 
 
 "Never in my life. The very smell of whiskey 
 is repulsive to me." 
 
 "Splendid ! You must be careful, though. A 
 doctor's life is so strenuous, and he is called at 
 all hours of the night, until, after a while, he feels 
 that a little stimulant or a drug will brace him 
 up and help him to be more alert and efficient. 
 He takes an occasional drink, or dose, and it is 
 not long until he is a slave to a habit. If you ever 
 start like that, you will awaken all that you have in- 
 herited from your father, and your course will 
 be swift and brief." 
 
 Drury reddened at the straightforward words, 
 and he realized, as never before, what it meant 
 to be the child of a drunkard. 
 
 "Isn't it strange, Doctor, that I haven't this 
 appetite, if I am ever to have it?" 
 
 "Yes ! You are now past twenty-one years old
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 119 
 
 and one would expect that there would be some 
 indication of the tendency. Really, it is remark- 
 able that you are so clear of it. I do not know 
 that I have ever known a case where the only 
 child of such a father was entirely averse to the 
 taste and smell of whiskey. It is passing 
 strange ; and, if you will pardon me for saying it, I 
 do not see any of John Patterson's habits or 
 looks about you. You are as different as a child 
 can be from his parent. Nor do you resemble 
 your mother. I never saw her people ; but you 
 must get your looks and predispositions from 
 them." 
 
 "I have wondered at all this myself. Mother 
 has never told me a thing about her people. I do 
 not know where they live. She seems to prefer 
 that I never know about them. I know all the 
 Pattersons, and I have never seen one that I look 
 at all like, nor do I seem to have anything in com- 
 mon with them." 
 
 "Well, let us hope that you will not develop 
 any of the Patterson traits. They are all good peo- 
 ple in their way, but they are all dissipated. Re- 
 member that I am your friend, and come to me 
 with any of your problems. I will help you in any 
 way that I can." 
 
 Drury always made friends like that. He did 
 not try to win them ; they came to him naturally ; 
 and, once a friend to him, they were always for 
 him. He never lost a friend.
 
 120 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PRICE MAURY PAID. 
 
 When Maxwell Wright received Jim Miller's 
 letter, he hurried out to a news-stand and pur- 
 chased the magazine Mr. Miller had referred to, 
 and immediately read the article. The effect on 
 him was not so rapid as it had been on his father- 
 in-law ; it required more time for the whole thing 
 to become comprehensive. That is the difference 
 between the Northern man and the Southern. 
 Your Southerner is quick, impulsive, rash; he 
 thinks of murder and revenge more readily than 
 the citizen of the North. The Northern man puts 
 more value on life, and the Southern man puts 
 more on virtue. If one violates social law at the 
 North, he or she is ostracized ; but, if a Southern 
 home is invaded, there is murder, and the defense 
 pleads the unwritten law. 
 
 So Maxwell Wright sat down to digest the 
 matter. At first, he was inclined to scoff at the 
 very idea. What did a woman and a woman 
 that had been blind all her life know about 
 such things, anyway? Why, he knew many 
 young men that had gone the same gaits he had, 
 and their wives were neither invalids nor their 
 children blind. Well, there was Wilbur Thomas ; 
 his wife was operated on, and both his children 
 deformed. Yes, and Sam Yoes's wife died within 
 a year after their marriage. But some persons 
 are going to die anyway, and women have always 
 had trouble.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 121 
 
 Then, he read the letter and the article again. 
 This time, the matter took a more serious aspect 
 in his mind. He determined to have a talk with 
 Dr. Duncan. . But the Doctor was out of the city 
 and would not return for a week. He did not 
 have a friend he could talk to, so he decided to 
 write to Maury Tallman. Jim Miller had men- 
 tioned the fact of the baby's blindness, and 
 Maxwell felt that he and Maury were fellow 
 sufferers ; \i he could not write to him, whom 
 could he consult with? Very likely, Mr. Miller 
 had written him, too, and he wondered how the 
 fine fellow had taken it. 
 
 Afterward, he wished he had not written. But 
 who could have foreseen the crisis impending? 
 
 Maury Tallman was becoming somewhat rec- 
 onciled to the blindness of Little Jim when he 
 received the letter from New York. Business 
 was good, and he was in better spirits than he 
 had been for years. The bookkeeper brought in 
 the mail, and he had gone through most of it 
 when he came on Maxwell's letter. They had 
 not written many letters to each other, and this 
 long, double-postage letter amused him as he 
 opened it. 
 
 "Ho, ho," he laughed, "Maxwell has turned 
 missionary and is sending me a bundle of tracts. 
 Well, I guess I need them in this heathenish 
 place." 
 
 Then, he began to read. 
 
 "What on earth does he mean? 'It seems we 
 are both under the same condemnation. If the 
 blind woman is right, I am no less than a mur-
 
 122 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 derer, and you have put out the eyes of your own 
 child.' I wonder if he has gone insane over 
 Allie's death poor fellow. 'I don't believe a word 
 of it, yet. At any rate, I am going to ask Dr. 
 Duncan about it when he comes home next 
 week. Read the article and write me what you 
 think.' " 
 
 By the time the letter was finished, it began 
 to dawn on the reader that, in some way, he had 
 caused the loss of his child's eyes, and that, by 
 the same rule, Maxwell was charged with Allie's 
 death. 
 
 Then, he took up the clipping and read the 
 words that had caused such a commotion in the 
 Miller home. The effect was altogether different 
 on him from what it had been on Maxwell. The 
 paper rattled in his hands, and the cold perspira- 
 tion stood on his face. He even groaned so 
 audibly that the bookkeeper asked him if he had 
 received bad news ; but he was lost to every- 
 thing except the words that were being burned 
 into his brain, and they carried the weight of con- 
 viction with them. He took them at their full 
 worth, nor questioned their truth for a moment. 
 Before he was half done reading, the letters ran 
 together, and his head fell on the desk before 
 him. 
 
 "What is it, Mr. Tallman? I hope you haven't 
 received bad news," and the bookkeeper came 
 near him. 
 
 "Yes, quite a shock, Mertens. Bring me a 
 glass of water, please." 
 
 When he had taken the water, and had re-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 123 
 
 covered to some extent, he finished reading the 
 paper. Then, he excused himself, saying that 
 he must go home for a little while. He started 
 for the beautiful cottage on the white hill above 
 the business section of the town ; but he was too 
 dazed to face his wife just yet; he must have 
 time to get his equilibrium, so he turned out the 
 street that led to a deep, dry canyon, where cactus 
 and yucca relieved the white alkali that made 
 the country so glaring. Arrived at the wall of 
 the canyon, he sat down and went over his past 
 history in detail, dwelling with bitterness on the 
 few incidents that haunted him like specters, 
 and mocked him for having thought there was 
 real pleasure in sin. What he had called "having 
 a little fun," now looked like crime; having "a 
 high old time" had proved to be a revel with 
 Death. Oh, if he could only recall the years of 
 his folly! He had never been reckless and dis- 
 sipated ; only two or three times, while in school, 
 had he been intoxicated ; he had been called a 
 "goody-goody" boy by his classmates because 
 he would not take in the town with them; but 
 he had limited his wildness to festal occasions. 
 He had laughed at the penalty assessed against 
 him on one of his "flings," and had considered 
 himself fortunate in being quickly pronounced 
 "all right" by a second-rate doctor, who "prac- 
 tised" for the college boys. 
 
 All this, and more, came back to him as he sat 
 there on the brink of the canyon, and he wished 
 he had died before he ever went to college. 
 Then, a dusky face, the face of a servant, peered
 
 124 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 at him out of the dim past. That awful curse 
 of the South two races living practically to- 
 gether has ruined many young lives. The ob- 
 sequious, improvident mulatto, with inordinate 
 desires for the finery of her white mistress, and 
 without character or virtue, is a real menace to 
 the adolescent youth. Old Rilla's muttering had 
 been full of meaning, after all. Oh, how he hated 
 himself! 
 
 He broke a leaf off a Spanish Dagger that 
 grew within his reach. Pressing his finger 
 against its needlelike point caused a sharp pain, 
 and he saw a tiny drop of blood where the point 
 had entered. As in a trance, he lifted the leaf 
 and his face was contorted in desperation as the 
 wild desire to prick his eyeballs, and live a life 
 of darkness in sympathy and companionship with 
 his child, entered his tortured mind. This desire 
 grew apace, and would doubtless have mastered 
 him had he not thought of the brand it would 
 put on him. It would be the mark of Cain, and, 
 everywhere he went the story of his guilty crime 
 and criminal guilt would be rehearsed. He 
 thought, also, of the handicap it would put on 
 him in providing for them. The battle raged 
 for more than an hour, and the tortures of the 
 damned can be no keener than those of this lone 
 man, whose refinement and culture only in- 
 creased his capacity for suffering. One wild 
 idea of self-punishment after another clamored 
 in his brain. If only he had a pistol, he would 
 end it all in a moment. Looking down, he could 
 see just where his body would fall, and then it
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 125 
 
 would tumble to the next ledge, and, finally, it 
 would land a hundred feet below. He would be 
 missed, and they might search for him; but the 
 vultures, flying high above him, would find the 
 body and pluck out the eyes before the searchers 
 found it and drove them away. Yes, that would 
 be adequate punishment and retribution. 
 
 He leaped to his feet with settled determina- 
 tion to get a pistol and commit the deed at once. 
 He argued that he had lost self-respect, and that 
 he could never again face the little woman he had 
 ruined, nor see the child he had deprived of 
 sight. He was unworthy to defile the pure air 
 with his breath, and the sooner he launched out 
 into the unknown, the better it would be for all 
 concerned. He formulated the lie he would tell 
 the dealer as an excuse for wanting the gun, and 
 was almost in the door of the shop when he 
 thought of writing Jessie a letter. He must do 
 that, and write one to Jim Miller, too. 
 
 He returned to the bank, and was soon at work 
 writing Jessie. It was hard to begin just right, 
 and he tore up three or four attempts before he 
 got the first paragraph to suit him. Then, it oc- 
 curred to him that he must give her evidence of 
 the guilt he felt, that would show her how ut- 
 terly impossible it was for him ever to see the 
 baby's blind eyes again. Would she consider 
 the clipping as conclusive as he knew it must 
 be? The doubt, once suggested, grew graver 
 and graver, until he sat back in his chair and 
 gazed out of the window in perplexed study. 
 Could there be any possible chance that Miss
 
 126 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Keller was wrong? There was only one person 
 in the world who could satisfy his mind on that 
 question, and that person was Dr. Roberts. Like 
 a drowning man, he grasped the straw, and, in 
 another minute, he was at the telephone. 
 
 "Hello, dear," he called, "I have a sudden call 
 to go East, and must start on the next train. It 
 leaves within thirty minutes. Could you run 
 down and bring me a hand-bag and some laun- 
 dry? No, don't try to bring the baby; you will 
 not have time for that. Get Pablo to hitch up, 
 and he can drive you to the station; I'll meet 
 you there. All right. Hurry, now." 
 
 He was glad the train was on time, for he 
 wanted to get away. He gave hurried instruc- 
 tions to the assistant cashier, who had come in, 
 and was at the station when Jessie arrived. 
 
 "What is the matter, Maury, that you have to 
 hurry off like this? You look troubled. Is there 
 anything wrong?" 
 
 "O, it is only a business affair. I have to go to 
 Stockton to look after some matters. Don't 
 worry, dear. If everything is all right, I shall 
 return on the first train. If I am detained, I shall 
 write you to-morrow. Be a good girl, and take 
 care of yourself." 
 
 With feminine intuition, she knew something 
 was wrong, and she wished she had time to make 
 him tell her all that was troubling him. But 
 there was only a minute more, the train was 
 even now whistling for the station, and there 
 were people about them.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 127 
 
 "Darling," she whispered, "what is it that is 
 troubling you? Tell me." 
 
 "I can't now. The train is coming ; but it will 
 be all right." 
 
 "Is everything all right at the bank?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed. Run along now. I shall either 
 be at home to-morrow or you will have a letter 
 from me telling you all about it. If I write, I 
 shall put a special delivery stamp on the letter, 
 so you will get it at once." 
 
 He kissed her warmly, and she clung to him 
 until he had to run to catch the step of the train 
 as it pulled out. Her heart ached for the man 
 who was plainly undergoing a crisis in his life. 
 She was scarcely able to be out of bed. Her 
 health had been bad ever since Little Jim came, 
 and she had kept up by sheer force of will. A 
 weaker woman would have given up to invalid- 
 ism; but she was unwilling to allow any one to 
 nurse the afflicted child, and her care for him 
 took her mind off herself. It was his need of her 
 that made her hurry back home, and her em- 
 ployment kept her from worrying as she would 
 have done had she been idle. 
 
 It was a dreary ride for Maury Tallman. He 
 took a seat in the Pullman, where he would be 
 undisturbed, and he re-read Maxwell's letter and 
 the clipping. More than it had done before, the 
 letter appealed to him, and the ridicule of the 
 correctness of the article, and criticism of the 
 author, held out to him a faint hope that Max- 
 well was correct. His own feeling in the matter, 
 however, was that Jim Miller would never have
 
 128 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 written his son-in-law such a letter without 
 having what he considered absolute proof of the 
 justness of his charge. 
 
 It was night when he arrived in the city; but 
 Dr. Roberts was at home, and he answered the 
 telephone himself, telling Maury to come right 
 out to his residence. The interview was held in 
 the same library where the Doctor had broken 
 the news of the blindness of the baby to him. 
 
 "I am glad to see you again, Mr. Tallman. How 
 are Mrs. Tallman and the baby?" 
 
 "Mrs. Tallman is not well ; she has never re- 
 gained her strength; but she seems better than 
 she has been. The baby has never had a sick 
 day. He is the happiest, best baby I ever saw." 
 
 "I am glad. And I hope your wife will be 
 herself again soon." 
 
 Maury was calm and quiet. He had survived 
 the first shock, and he had himself so well in 
 hand that he was sure he could go through this 
 interview without betraying his plans. 
 
 "Dr. Roberts," he said in a businesslike tone, 
 "I have a few questions to ask you, and I am 
 sure you will answer me frankly. I understand 
 that ophthalmia neonatorium is responsible for 
 nearly all the blindness of infants. You treated 
 my child, and you know definitely whether that 
 is the disease that destroyed his vision. Was it?" 
 
 "That is a direct question, Mr. Tallman, and 
 I can not afford to give you anything but a direct 
 answer. I do not know where you got the 
 technical term, but that is the cause of you baby's 
 blindness."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 29 
 
 "Thank you. Now, another question; is it 
 a fact that that disease is the result of a specific 
 germ conveyed to the eyes of the child by its mo- 
 ther at birth ?" 
 
 "I see you have some definite knowledge of 
 the matter, Mr. Tallman. I do not know why 
 you want to know all this from me ; but, as be- 
 fore, I can only answer in the affirmative." 
 
 "Very well. Is that germ the result of social 
 sin?" 
 
 Never, in all his experience, had the Doctor 
 been so quizzed ; nor had he ever known a lay- 
 man to have such exact knowledge of the matter 
 in hand. He realized the cold, clear questions 
 of the business man, and he answered in the same 
 clear fashion. 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "Is there any possible chance that my child 
 was infected any other way?" 
 
 "Yes. It is possible to convey the disease on 
 a towel, or in some other way. But that is not 
 probable. You have asked me some plain ques- 
 tions, and I have answered them as plainly. You 
 will, of course, allow me to make further state- 
 ments regarding the matter." 
 
 "Yes. Tell me all. That is why I came to 
 you." 
 
 If Dr. McConnel had opened the eyes of the 
 father of the twins, Dr. Roberts let in the light 
 of science on the subject to the banker, who sat 
 before him that night. He could not understand 
 the calm young father, who discussed the affliction 
 of innocent women and children as he would
 
 130 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 have discussed a financial problem ; but he knew 
 he was relieving his own mind of a burden that 
 had been on it for years. He told Maury of the 
 many cases that were coming to him daily. Only 
 that day, he had treated three babies suffering 
 from this very trouble, and he was going to be 
 able to save only one pair of little eyes. 
 
 "If I could have seen your child a week sooner, 
 I might have saved it. I know I could have 
 cured it during the first stages of the disease." 
 
 He wondered that the man who had chided 
 himself before did not do so now; but Maury 
 was not thinking of that. Under that calm ex- 
 terior, the battle was beginning to rage again, 
 and he was sure that he never could see the 
 innocent victim of his own folly again. 
 
 "I thank you, Dr. Roberts," he said, as he arose 
 to leave, "and I appreciate your frankness All 
 that you have told me ought to be told to the 
 world, that this crime might come to an end. 
 There are hundreds of men who would rather 
 have their eyes put out than to marry and bring 
 all this suffering and calamity on the innocent. 
 We are ignorant criminals, but criminals, never- 
 theless." 
 
 Leaving the Doctor's residence, Maury re- 
 turned to his hotel. Providing himself with 
 stationery, and with a small vial, which he pur- 
 chased at an all-night drug-store, he retired to 
 his room to write the letter he had promised 
 Jessie should reach her the next day. 
 
 That letter was too sacred for reproduction in 
 these pages, but the one to Jim Miller is re-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 131 
 
 corded, because it hurried the campaign the 
 latter had decided on, and it shows the tortures 
 through which this one awakened man passed as 
 he paid the price he himself assessed for the folly 
 of his youth. 
 
 "When I think of the happiness of your home 
 before I entered it," he wrote, "and of the purity 
 of your daughters before two moral lepers led 
 them down the aisles of that stately church just 
 two years ago, I feel like Satan must have felt 
 when he saw Adam and Eve driven from the 
 Garden of Eden. Some will say that I did not 
 know I was doing wrong to marry Jessie, and I 
 did not ; others will say that there are hundreds 
 that have done the same thing, and there are; 
 but I sinned in sowing wild oats, and I must bear 
 the penalty for all the consequences of my sowing. 
 Indeed it was the wind oh, what a fool I was ! 
 and I reaped the whirlwind. You may blame 
 me for what I am doing, and you may call it a 
 rash act ; but I can not look into little Jim's 
 unseeing eyes, nor can I look into your clear ones. 
 I am like Gehazi : the leprosy is on me because of 
 my sin. I am like Cain : afraid to walk among 
 men lest they see the mark on me and slay me. 
 I am like Judas : I have betrayed innocent blood. 
 Therefore, like Judas, I will end it all tonight. 
 
 "I leave all my property, real and personal, to 
 Jessie, and I am glad there is enough to supply 
 her needs for life, and to give Little Jim an edu- 
 cation. Also I have set aside ten thousand dol- 
 lars for you to handle as trustee. This amount 
 I want you to use in enlightening the public on
 
 132 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 the evils of social sin Use it in any way you 
 may deem best. I believe, however, that there 
 ought to be lectures delivered to the boys and 
 girls in the grammar grades and high school 
 grades of all our public schools on this question. 
 If a county school physician was appointed in 
 every county, whose duty it would be to visit 
 each school in the county, and lecture on real 
 physiology, and the laws of reproduction and 
 sex hygiene, I am sure that the next generation 
 would be saved untold misery, and that more 
 could be accomplished than has been done for 
 the race in the past thousand years. I almost 
 wish I could live to see it. 
 
 "But enough. Forgive me, dear Mr. Miller. 
 Forgive me. I remember our words the day you 
 give your consent to our marriage: 'I would not 
 give her to a scrub.' But you did, though neither 
 of us knew it at the time. Tell Mother Miller I 
 am so sorry I have been a party to her grief and 
 sorrow. Good-by. Think of me with as much 
 charity as you can." 
 
 They found him the next morning. Rather, 
 they found the cold form lying on the bed. There 
 was a note to the management, directing that 
 they wire Jim Miller at Tamalpias, and that he 
 be given the letter addressed to him when he 
 arrived. There was a letter of explanation to 
 the coroner, and one to Maxwell Wright. He 
 had mailed the letter to Jessie on a night train. 
 
 Only the angels know the anguish that had 
 filled his heart as he lifted the deadly vial to his 
 lips. There was no outward sign of struggle,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 133 
 
 nor mark of violence. He looked like one who 
 had gone to sleep and forgotten to wake again. 
 
 The papers published sensational accounts of 
 the suicide of a successful young banker, whose 
 financial and domestic affairs were ideal, and 
 speculated on the reason for the rash act. The 
 reading public made surmises, and learned doc- 
 tors gave opinion that it was dementia of some 
 sort. Only Dr. Roberts and the dead man's rela- 
 tives knew the real cause, and they kept their 
 own counsel. 
 
 Again, Jessie took up her blind child and her 
 burden of life, and entered the train. If she had 
 suffered on that other trip, she experienced 
 agony now. He had been with her then, and 
 his anguish had eased hers. Now, he was gone, 
 and she must bear it all alone. She had received 
 the telegram early that morning, and his letter 
 had come on the noon train. Forgetting her 
 wasted strength, she had made hasty preparation 
 and was on her way to her dead. His letter had 
 told her of his remorse, and of the thousand 
 deaths he had suffered since he had read Max- 
 well's letter and the clipping. Her grief was the 
 keener that she had not been able to help him 
 stand the terrible shock. How dreadful it must 
 have been to face the thing alone ! His act lost 
 its criminal aspect to her; she could see nothing 
 except a supreme evidence of his love for her 
 and their afflicted baby. She saw him as a real 
 martyr, and her love for him was crystalized into 
 a sort of worship that she would carry through 
 life.
 
 134 JITtf MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Then, she thought of Allie, and of Maxwell 
 Wright. What would the effect on him be? In- 
 stinctively, she knew that he would do nothing 
 rash; but what would he do? Poor Allie! She 
 had borne the curse and paid the penalty. But 
 what was death to the curse she was bearing in 
 her arms, in her diseased body, and in her break- 
 ing heart, as she hurried to the ghastly closing 
 scene in the drama of two short years ! 
 
 Jim Miller was himself surprised at the calm 
 strength he found within him under the ordeal 
 of this terrible climax to the marriage of the 
 twins. His reserve force and tremendous will- 
 power stood him in hand in this dark hour that 
 made his loved ones lean so heavily on him. The 
 incident only increased his determination to put 
 himself into the fight for the race. He sought 
 Dr. Roberts and made an engagement with him 
 for the near future. His fight must be an intel- 
 ligent one, and he was not going to spare time 
 nor money. 
 
 The funeral was impressive. All Tamalpias 
 was moved with sympathy. They did not know 
 why Maury Tallman had killed himself, but they 
 loved him, and their expressions of sorrow were 
 sincere and eloquent. 
 
 It would be the hardest task of his life, but 
 Jim Miller knew that he must tell the story of 
 both tragedies in his coming campaign. Only 
 hearts of stone would be able to resist the appeal 
 he would be able to make, and that would be 
 his compensation. He would sacrifice his tim- 
 idity, and the sacredness of his sorrow, on the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 135 
 
 altar where his daughter had laid her life, his 
 grandchild had given his eyes, another daughter 
 her health, and his son-in-law had died in re- 
 morse. He tarried until the grave was filled; 
 then, as the minister pronounced the benediction, 
 he lifted his hand toward heaven and renewed 
 the vow he had made at the riverside. Life,, 
 talent, time, and money should be spent to emanci- 
 pate the race from this plague that was so unneces- 
 sary and easily preventable. 
 
 His wife saw the uplifted hand and the moving 
 lips, and knew what was passing. She pressed his 
 left hand and whispered: 
 
 "You have come to the kingdom for such a 
 time as this, and I am with you, Jim."
 
 136 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 l' , , CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JOHN PATTERSON. 
 
 Almost every Southern town has a character 
 like John Patterson a man above middle age, 
 whose family once owned a large estate and 
 many negroes; whose father reared him in idle- 
 ness and supplied his purse with money, as well 
 as having preached to him, and practised in his 
 presence, the time-worn doctrine that a man has 
 a perfect right to go to the devil if he wants to. 
 Such a character, and John Patterson was no 
 exception, always believed that the height of 
 'Southern aristocracy demands that he shall de- 
 velop the ablity to drink raw whiskey, and more 
 of it than any other man in the community can 
 drink, and still walk straight. He also learns to 
 curse like a slave-driver, whether there is oc- 
 casion for profanity or not, and he assumes a 
 superior air in keeping with the number of slaves 
 his family is reputed to have owned "before the 
 wah." Go into his house and you will find old- 
 fashioned furniture with faded upholstery, and 
 a musty smell that fully warrants the claim that 
 they are "among the oldest families of the State." 
 This overbearing manner is only equaled by the 
 presumption of the degenerate scion of a de- 
 cadent aristocracy that makes him almost im- 
 pudent in his intrusion on the affairs of others. 
 He seems to think that the world owes him def- 
 erence and a good living because of his ante- 
 cedents. He resents the changes that have been
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 137 
 
 wrought by reformers who have taken away his 
 "personal liberty" by agitating the liquor ques- 
 tion until the saloon has been voted out of the 
 community, and he spends his time in cursing the 
 reformers and dodging the officers on his way 
 to the "blind tigers," where he can slake his 
 thirst with an adulterated beverage branded 
 "whiskey." 
 
 Generally, the family of such a character is 
 proud and poor. They live on less than half 
 the food they really need, and they spend money 
 for clothes that ought to be spent for bread. 
 They can do without food, but appearance can 
 not be maintained without clothes. There is a 
 negro family living in the "quarters" that par- 
 takes of this family pride far enough to look 
 after their "white floks," and to do the laundry 
 work. For this service, they get the cast-off 
 clothing, free rent, and the opportunity to carry 
 "scraps" from the kitchen. An old family horse, 
 and a dilapidated surrey, a mangy dog, and an 
 unkempt lawn, overgrown with rosebushes and 
 cedars, complete the picture. 
 
 Every merchant in town has a bill that he 
 would take five cents on the dollar for; but he 
 continues to let the family have a few items oc- 
 casionally, for several reasons. One of these is 
 that the degenerate scion knows things that are 
 better kept secret ; another, that the merchant 
 sometimes wants a favor that no one else can 
 render, and still another that social position is 
 at stake, and an ambitious wife importunes her
 
 138 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 husband to accommodate the proud family for 
 her sake. 
 
 John Patterson and his wife possessed all these 
 characterstics. He was tall and angular, with 
 iron-gray hair, which was never combed; mus- 
 tache and goatee to match; white shirt, ironed 
 by the negro servant, with collar attached ; black 
 string tie, worn in a double bow ; striped trousers 
 that bagged at the knees ; heavy shoes that were 
 polished once a week at the barber-shop ; black 
 vest with only the bottom button in use, and a 
 large white hat. His shaggy brows covered pale- 
 gray eyes that peeped out at you when curious, 
 swam, downcast, in tears when asking a favor, 
 and blared, wide open, when defiant. And they 
 were defiant when he was so thoroughly intoxi- 
 cated that he began to give the history of his 
 family, and tell of the negroes he would still 
 own if it had not been for the accursed "Yan- 
 kees" who were only jealous because they did 
 not have the climate and employment that would 
 enable them to keep negroes. 
 
 He always celebrated events of more than 
 passing interest by getting drunk, when he could 
 get the whiskey, and he generally got it some 
 way. He succeeded in finding enough of it on 
 the occasion of Maury Tallman's funeral to keep 
 up his reputation for celebrating. His need must 
 have been great, for it was the first time he had 
 ever pawned or sold anything that became a 
 matter of public knowledge ; but, this time, the 
 owner of a suspicious livery stable went to Pat- 
 terson's barn and led away the old brown mare that
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 139 
 
 had pulled the family surrey ever since John had 
 returned to Tamalpias with his wife and the boy, 
 Drury. 
 
 Perhaps it was the quantity, and it may have 
 been partially due to the quality, that the cele- 
 bration took on the proportions of a protracted 
 spree. At any rate, more than a week went by, 
 and he was still drinking and delivering lectures 
 to any one who would listen, about the "good old 
 times when everybody had a decanter on his 
 mantel, and a gentleman could have a little fun 
 without being considerd a fool." His wife was 
 distressed about him, and had Mose, the negro 
 man who lived in the cabin, watch him and keep 
 him out of trouble. 
 
 ' Drury came home from school when the spree 
 was almost two weeks old, and, when he tried 
 to control his father, the old man railed on him, 
 and called him a "brat," and told him to keep his 
 place. It was the first time Drury had ever been 
 talked to like that, and he was deeply wounded. 
 He appealed to his mother, and she cried and 
 shook her head. 
 
 "It is the worst he has ever been," she said. 
 "I have lived with him more than twenty years, 
 but he would always listen to me before ; now, 
 he curses me, and charges me with his ruin. I 
 am afraid his mind is unbalanced." 
 
 "I know it is, Mother. His brain is burned 
 out by alcohol, and he will get worse. I am 
 going to stay with you as long as he lives. 
 Where did he get so much liquor?" 
 
 "Jim Davis sold it to him for the little mare."
 
 140 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "I wish we could prove that; it would send 
 him to prison." 
 
 John Patterson became more unruly, and the 
 city marshall told Drury he would have to be kept 
 off the streets. That was hard to do; but Mose 
 and Drury got him home, and locked him in a 
 room. Finding himself a prisoner, he became 
 furious, and smashed the furniture and broke 
 the windows. They dared not get within his 
 reach, for there was murder in his eye. At last, 
 they sent for Dr. McConnell, and he saw his 
 patient was showing symptoms of delirium 
 tremens again. He began a treatment ; but, that 
 night, John Patterson was a screaming, kicking, 
 fighting maniac. It took four men to hold him in 
 his bed. Although Drury had seen men brought 
 to the medical school with "snakes," nothing like 
 this had come under his observation. Could it 
 be possible that this writhing, frothing, demented 
 being was his father! Was this demon in his 
 veins, lying dormant, only awaiting a propitious 
 time for a sudden attack on his manhood? His 
 brain reeled with the crushing knowledge that 
 the children of drunkards are handicapped for 
 life in the estimation of the world, and in the 
 fact that they inherit the depraved appetites and 
 passions of their ancestors. He had just begun 
 to study heredity, and he resolved, as he looked 
 at his maniacal father, possessed with a thou- 
 sand demons, that he would go to the bottom of 
 this grave question. No matter where it led him. 
 nor what the consequences were, he must know 
 the truth. If there was any chance that he would
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 141 
 
 in any way blight the happiness of the girl he 
 loved through his inheritance from this man, he 
 would never marry her. His heart chilled at the 
 thought, and his face bespoke the agony that 
 even the suggestion caused him. 
 
 Jim Miller went to see John Patterson for a 
 double purpose : to offer any assistance he might 
 be able to render, and to study the case closely. 
 His investigations had already shown him that 
 the campaign he was planning had to do with 
 the question of this dissipation as well as the 
 other, and he wanted to see for himself the final 
 effects of such a life as John Patterson had lived. 
 When he entered the room, the poor man was 
 struggling with his attendants, and yelling: 
 
 "Let me go! He'll get me. Don't you see 
 him there behind that tree? Oh! He shot me. 
 Let me go, let me go. Look, he has divided 
 himself into ten devils, and they are all grinning 
 at me. Oh, quit licking out that fiery tongue at 
 me !" 
 
 Thus he raved for three hours. When the 
 Doctor tried to give him medicine with a spoon, 
 he bit the spoon and twisted the handle almost 
 in two. He scratched himself and tore his cloth- 
 ing into shreds. Once, he caught sight of Drury, 
 and shouted at him : 
 
 "Get out of here, you fool ! Don't stand there 
 looking at me with those accusing eyes. You 
 look exactly like he did the night of the fire. I see 
 you trying to choke me. Put him out; he wants 
 to kill me. Put him out, I say." 
 
 The fact that his father was suffering the
 
 142 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 tortures of mental delusion did not take all the 
 sting out of the words for Drury. There must 
 be something in the subconscious mind of the 
 man to make him speak like this at sight of the 
 young man. His wonder increased as Mrs. Pat- 
 terson, overhearing the words of the madman, 
 rushed into the room and put her arms around 
 him as if to shield him from the fury of her 
 husband. 
 
 "John," she cried, "what are you saying! 
 Drury, my child, come with me. He is wild, and 
 does not know what he is saying," and she led 
 him from the room. 
 
 "It is only a wild fancy of his disordered brain. 
 Don't let it disturb you, Son. Twice, while you 
 have been away, he has had these attacks; but 
 he is much worse this time than ever before. 
 You do not know what I have suffered these recent 
 years, since he began to drink more than he 
 could walk erect with. His early drinking made 
 him act dignified, and he was never more kind 
 than when in his cups. But during the last five 
 years, he has grown rougher and more incon- 
 siderate." 
 
 "When did he begin drinking, Mother?" 
 
 "Before I met him. He says he drank from 
 his earliest recollection, and he used to try to 
 feed you 'toddy' with a spoon ; but you never did 
 like it." 
 
 "I have been much worried for fear I would 
 some day develop the appetite for drink, by in- 
 heritance from him." 
 
 "No, no, my boy, you need never fear that.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 143 
 
 You are in no more danger in that way than I 
 am." 
 
 "But, Mother, science teaches that the child 
 does inherit such things from the parent." 
 
 "You will never have trouble with drink on 
 his account ; if you form the habit, it will be your 
 own fault. I know what I am saying. Let 
 whiskey alone, and it will let you alone." 
 
 Drury saw she was under restraint and won- 
 dered. He had noticed this demeanor in his 
 mother every time the subject of his looks or his 
 ways was discussed. He would have pressed the 
 matter; but she changed the subject, and hfe was 
 soon called into the sick-room again. 
 
 Jim Miller heard John Patterson rave at the 
 boy, and he, too, wondered what he could mean. 
 The words were full of mystery to him, and to 
 Dr. McConnell. There had been no fire at 
 Tamalpias that he could be referring to, yet Jim 
 was sure there was some connection between the 
 raving of the madman and a real occurence. 
 This opinion was strengthened when Drury came 
 into the room again, and was soon recognized 
 by the sufferer. This time, however, the old 
 man cowered, and tried to pull the cover over 
 his head. He moaned piteously, and begged for 
 mercy. 
 
 "Don't hurt me ; I had to do it. All the devils 
 were pulling at me, and one stuck out his tongue 
 at me and cursed me. He made me do it. Go 
 away, go away, and let me get on the boat. 
 There he is! He's going to choke me! There
 
 144 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 they all come. Fire! Fire!" And it took all 
 their strength to hold him in the bed. 
 
 After that, he settled down and spoke no more. 
 His struggles were over, and only the twitching 
 of the muscles indicated the pain that racked his 
 body. Darkness filled the room, but a greater 
 gloom filled the hearts of mother and son as they 
 were told the end had come. It was relief to 
 both ; nevertheless, their sorrow was great. 
 
 The same spirit that gave the drunkard recog- 
 nition during life caused the citizenship to give 
 him a funeral that would have shown honor to 
 a more worthy person. The floral offerings were 
 numerous, expensive, and beautiful. The casket 
 was the best to be had, and the two lodges to 
 which the deceased had belonged, turned out in 
 full regalia. With true Southern charity, they 
 buried John Patterson's imperfections, and his 
 debts, with him. His virtues were extolled, and 
 his vices were too well known to need mention- 
 ing. The few old comrades that were there re- 
 solved to quit drinking, and went straight back to 
 town and hunted up some liquor to cheer them 
 up a little. 
 
 The widow and the son found the Millers real 
 friends in this dark hour. They well knew that 
 those who were conspicuous at the funeral would 
 be the last to help them in the coming days, and 
 it warmed their hearts to have these good people 
 show genuine sympathy that would endure when 
 the parade was over. Mr. Harris and his family 
 said a kind word to two; but Mrs. Patterson 
 knew it would be only a few days until she would
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 145 
 
 be forced to give up her home on account of the 
 mortgage her husband had given Mr. Harris. 
 
 Thus John Patterson died: bankrupt, ruined, 
 demented, home gone, family disgraced, friends 
 alienated, soul lost all for a mess of pottage!
 
 146 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AN OLD CLIPPING. 
 
 Several months had passed by, and the events 
 recorded in the last two chapters were history 
 that had been discussed in Tamalpias until there 
 -was nothing more to be said. Jessie Tallman 
 had returned from Sharman, and had succeeded 
 in purchasing the cottage Maury had built to 
 take his bride to. Little Jim was walking and 
 talking, and was the idol of all the relatives. He 
 was really a bright child, and Jessie was already 
 in correspondence with a governess who had 
 been recommended by the superintendent of the 
 State school for the blind. 
 
 Jim Miller had been busy gathering data for 
 ihis campaign, which was to begin in the early 
 ;summer. He had become more convinced than 
 >ever of the righteousness and correctness of the 
 cause he had resolved to champion. His wife, 
 too, had entered into the matter with him, and 
 she was planning to make tours over the State 
 and speak to women under the auspices of the 
 White Ribboners. Jack had finished his high 
 school course and was away at college. Dixie 
 would graduate at Barlow within two months ; 
 then, she was going to keep house while her 
 mother was away. Jessie would stay with her, 
 and the arrangement was considered ideal. 
 
 Drury Patterson had taken his mother with 
 him when he returned to school. They were do-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 147 
 
 ing light housekeeping, and finding it a happy 
 solution of their trouble. The old home had been 
 sold to satisfy the mortgage, and Mr. Harris had 
 purchased it and deeded it to Marvin, who rejoiced 
 that he had superseded Drury in one thing at 
 any rate. 
 
 Jim Miller employed a foreman for his ranch, 
 who could take entire charge of all his affairs 
 in that line, and announced in the local papers 
 that he was a candidate for the State senate. His 
 opponent was a man that had been brought up 
 in politics; he was recognized as the political 
 boss of that district, and would have the "ring" 
 at his beck and call. Bill Colton was also an un- 
 scrupulous trickster; he could win the election 
 if his opponent was an ordinary reformer ; for 
 he could talk reforms as well as anybody. It 
 was one thing to talk reforms, and another to 
 enact them into laws. 
 
 Thus things stood when Dixie Miller came 
 home with her diploma from Barlow College. 
 Trouble, experience, and hard work had ripened 
 her, but had not robbed her of the freshness and 
 beauty of her girlhood. Marvin Harris had been 
 paying court to Thelma Dawson for nearly two 
 years ; but he could not resist the winsome 
 beauty who had been his playmate and little 
 sweetheart. He had learned many things about 
 courting a girl since his beginning with Dixie, 
 three years before, and he was sure he could 
 win her love, now that Drury was so far away. 
 
 He had settled down to business, and every- 
 body was praising him for his unquestionable
 
 148 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 ability. He had remodeled the Patterson place, 
 and it was now the prettiest residence in the 
 whole town. The superintendent of the city 
 schools had rented it, and Dixie had to admit 
 that it was a wonderful example of civic im- 
 provement. Also, she saw that the improve- 
 ment in the owner was greater than in his prop- 
 erty. He was handsome and refined, and he 
 acted like a gentleman. She had always admired 
 Mr. Harris, and Marvin was growing more like 
 his father every day. 
 
 Dixie was unpacking her trunks and destroy- 
 ing the letters and papers that had accumulated 
 during her college course. There were letters 
 from Allie, and some from other relatives and 
 friends that she could not bring herself to des- 
 troy. Drury's letters were neatly arranged in a 
 box and chronologically filed; she counted them 
 among her dearest possessions, and they were 
 placed back in the tray of a trunk. She had fin- 
 ished feeding the flames on the hearth, and 
 was rising from her position on the floor, when 
 she saw a scrap of paper that had escaped her. 
 She unfolded it and was surprised to discover 
 that it was the article she had clipped from a 
 magazine two years before. It was the one she 
 had read on the train, and dealt with the subject 
 of alcoholism. Almost involuntarily, she sat 
 down and re-read it. If it had shocked her be- 
 fore, it scared her now ; for she saw a new mean- 
 ing in it that had not dawned on her at the 
 first reading. She had thought only of the effect 
 of inheritance on Drury : now, she saw the fear-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 149 
 
 ful truth that two more generations were at 
 stake. Like a phantom, the words of the Mosaic 
 Law arose before her. "Thy God is a jealous 
 God, visiting the iniquities of the fathers upon 
 the children unto the third and fourth genera- 
 tion of them that hate Me." Was it possible 
 that the immediate generation might escape the 
 penalty, only to be the means of passing the 
 curse on to the next? Her father would know, and 
 she hurried down-stairs to ask him about it. 
 
 "Daddy, I am coming back to you with this 
 old question of heredity. Please read this treatise 
 and then tell me what I want to know." 
 
 He read it in the light of the investigations 
 he had been making for more than a year, and 
 his heart went out to his child. He knew what 
 her question would be, and he was pained at 
 the answer he must give. 
 
 "Tell me, Daddy, is it possible that one gen- 
 eration may escape this appetite, and then it 
 develop in the next?" 
 
 "My child, I see what you are thinking, and 
 I must tell you the truth : my reading leads me 
 to believe that the predispositions, passions, and 
 appetites are more likely to show up in alternate 
 generations than in the immediate. I may be 
 wrong about this, but I shall write to Dr. Chad- 
 wick L. Grady, the great alienist, and ask him 
 about it. Meantime, I hope you will not worry 
 over this question." 
 
 "I can not help worrying. If there is a pos- 
 sibility that Mr. Patterson's appetite may be im- 
 parted to his grandchild through his son, can you
 
 150 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 not see what it means to me? Oh, this cruel 
 world ! And to think that men will claim they 
 have a right to go on in their sin, when they 
 are entailing such things on unborn generations. 
 What punishment! And the innocent have to 
 suffer for the crimes of the guilty !" 
 
 "Yes, Dixie, it is terrible. No one knows how 
 terrible, better than I. Think how it has come to 
 my family ; and this blow to you, if I am correct 
 in my judgment, is also a blow to me. I love the 
 boy, and really wanted him to marry you. We 
 must not forget him, either. If this thing is 
 true, it makes him an Ishmaelite ; he is too high 
 principled ever to marry if he knows this curse is 
 in his veins." 
 
 "You are right, Father. He said almost as 
 much to me when his father died. How can we 
 ever stand it !" 
 
 "Don't give up, daughter, until I hear from Dr. 
 Grady. I shall put the whole case before him, 
 and we will abide by his decision, will we not?" 
 
 That short question put her love in the balance 
 against her intellect. Love cried out for its ob- 
 ject in spite of opinions, science, and conse- 
 quences. More rebellion than she had ever sus- 
 pected her heart held, surged within her being. 
 She threw herself on a couch and sobbed. In- 
 tellect prompted her to yield natural selection to 
 wisdom and scientific fact; but love was slow 
 to go to the altar of sacrifice. 
 
 Jim took her hand and knelt by her side. His 
 grief was as great as hers, and he felt some of 
 the rebellion that was making the battle so hard
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 151 
 
 for her. Nevertheless, he knew wisdom would 
 win, and he dealt very gently with this third 
 daughter of his who was suffering on account of 
 the sins of others. He did not underestimate 
 the suffering, nor discount its reality. 
 
 "Dixie, darling, yours is a peculiar sorrow. Your 
 lover is personally worthy, and there is no reason 
 for your love, or his, to be conquered. By the de- 
 crees of an All-wise Creator, you can not posses 
 each other. And it is the best thing for the race 
 that these evils be curtailed rather than per- 
 petuated through offspring. Be brave my girl. 
 That is right ; I knew you would be sensible." 
 
 "Oh, it is so hard to do! But I will abide by 
 the decision of Dr. Grady. Write to him at once, 
 and let me know, as quickly as you can, what he 
 says." 
 
 "You are a noble girl, Dixie, and I believe that 
 God will reward you in some way for this great 
 sacrifice." 
 
 It was ten days before the answer came from 
 Dr. Grady. Jim was in his office, down-town, 
 when he opened and read the letter. 
 
 "In compliance with your request," the Doctor 
 wrote, "I beg to reply that the general doctrine 
 of hereditary influence has been recognized since 
 the days of mythology. The nervous condition 
 of the parents endows the future child with their 
 general characteristics and predispositions. The 
 child of a drunkard starts out under unfavorable 
 conditions, and in all its after life can not entire- 
 ly escape the consequences, physical and mental,
 
 152 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 that have been entailed on it by the condition of 
 its parent. 
 
 "Much attention and thought should be given 
 this great question. At the present time, insane 
 people, drunkards, epileptics, cancerous, scrofu- 
 lous, and all kinds of diseased people propagate 
 and perpetuate their imperfections without a 
 word being said against it. 
 
 "As to one generation escaping the appetite for 
 stimulants, and the next generation developing it, 
 allow me to say that such cases are on record. A 
 son may inherit enough will-power from his 
 mother, and have such effective training, that he 
 will overcome the latent desire for drugs or in- 
 toxicants, but the child of such a son seems to 
 have intensified thirst, and sooner or later yields 
 to the call of his ancestry. I have no record of 
 a child entirely void of the appetite where the 
 father was a drinker before the birth of the child, 
 as in the case you cite, but I am sure such a case 
 is possible. The sure course is for your daughter 
 not to marry the young man in question." 
 
 This corroboration of his judgment did not 
 stun the father as much as did the fact that he 
 must tell his child that science had decreed that 
 she must never marry the man she loved so well. 
 It would also become his duty to break the news 
 to Drury. He dreaded that even more than 
 telling Dixie, because she was somewhat pre- 
 pared for the cruel news. 
 
 When he went home that afternoon, he led 
 Dixie into the library and handed her the letter 
 to read. He expected another outburst of grief,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 153 
 
 but she did not cry out. Her sobs were deep; 
 however, the storm had passed, and she accepted 
 the decision as a foregone conclusion. 
 
 "You will write to Drury?" she asked, as she 
 handed the letter back to him. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Write at once, and I shall write as soon as 
 he has had time to get your letter." 
 
 She started from the room, but came back and 
 stood by his chair. 
 
 "Daddy," she said, stroking his hair, "I knew 
 what news this letter would bring, and 1 have 
 been planning my future. I shall enter a sana- 
 torium and become a trained nurse. I can not 
 spend my life in luxury and idleness, and I can 
 be of so much service to the world as a nurse." 
 
 "O child, I am afraid I can never consent to 
 that. Think it over, and let me study about it 
 a while. Am I to lose my last daughter from 
 my home? Give me time to study it all out be- 
 fore you speak of this to any one else." 
 
 "I will, but my own mind is made up. I know 
 you will see it as I do. My life must be too busy 
 for recollection." 
 
 Then, she left him and went to her room. 
 
 Drury was in New Orleans when he received 
 Jim Miller's letter that condemned him to a 
 bachelor's life. It was the kindest letter he had 
 ever received, and the writer reassured him of his 
 friendship and confidence. He invited him to 
 come to his home and see Dixie whenever he 
 wished ; but he made it plain that, in the light of 
 the very science Drury was studying, he could
 
 154 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 never marry Dixie. The blow was heavy ; it was 
 as if he stood again looking at his father dying 
 under the influence of torturing demons. Not 
 only the loss of the woman he hoped to marry, 
 but the stigma it cast on him made him groan 
 under the cross that was laid on his young 
 shoulders. The walls and the furniture about 
 him seemed to cry out: 
 
 "You are the child of a drunkard. There's 
 poison in your veins. You are unfit to be a hus- 
 band and father. You are an Ishmaelite." 
 
 He would not tell his mother. She had recov- 
 ered from the shock of her husband's death, and 
 her health was much improved; however, he 
 could not bring himself to tell her he had been 
 condemned because he was John Patterson's 
 child. She must be spared the pain that knowl- 
 edge would bring her. 
 
 The next day, he received a letter from Dixie, 
 and it was balm to his wounded soul. She re- 
 vealed her suffering, and told him frankly of her 
 abiding love. Then, she told him of her purpose 
 to become a trained nurse, and urged him to go to 
 the top in his profession. If they could not marry, 
 they could at least give their lives to the relief 
 of human misery. They might even work to- 
 gether in the same hospital, some day. She asked 
 him to come to see her shortly, and they would talk 
 it over together. 
 
 Of course, Marvin Harris did not go to Dr. 
 McConnell's office with the intention of eaves- 
 dropping; it is also true that he did not leave 
 when he began to overhear the conversation be-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 155 
 
 tween Jim Miller and the Doctor. They were in 
 the Doctor's private room and Marvin was in the 
 waiting-room ; but the transom was open and he 
 could hear every word. Jim was telling the old 
 Doctor of the letter he had received from Dr. 
 Grady, and of the decision he and Dixie had come 
 to in regard to Drury Patterson. The listener's 
 face grew red; then, a gratified smile wreathed 
 his face. He was becalmed, however, when he 
 heard Mr. Miller tell the physician that Dixie had 
 decided to enter a hospital for training as a nurse, 
 and he had given his consent. 
 
 Marvin slipped out of the room and down to 
 the street. This was the best news he had ever 
 heard. Even if she went away for training, she 
 would yet be his wife. Although he was en- 
 gaged to Thelma Dawson, that was a small mat- 
 ter. He laughed as he thought of honest, clean, 
 temperate Drury Patterson being turned down 
 because he was the child of a drunkard. He, him- 
 self, had drunk more whiskey than Drury ever 
 had, and he had "gone the gaits," but he was 
 the child of a gentleman. It was just as he had 
 told her, and it was all working out better than 
 he had dared to hope. However, he must be diplo- 
 matic in his endeavor to win her. She was as 
 strong in character as she was beautiful in per- 
 son, and he had blundered before. 
 
 There was to be a social event of first import- 
 ance next week, and he wrote her that afternoon, 
 asking the pleasure of her company. She did not 
 want to attend the function; but her father's 
 cause demanded the presence of the family, and
 
 156 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 she did not see any reason why she should not 
 accept the company of such a gentleman as Mar- 
 vin was proving himself to be; so his delight 
 was supreme when he read her note of formal 
 acceptance. 
 
 It was her first public appearance, and she 
 aroused the envy of the women and the admira- 
 tion of the men to the highest pitch. Her reti- 
 cent manner only added to her charms, and the 
 dignity lent her by her great purpose in life gave 
 her the bearing of a colonial lady. She was just 
 gracious enough to escape criticism, and reserved 
 enough to call forth the deepest respect. Jim 
 Miller had never been as proud of one of his chil- 
 dren as he was of her on this occasion, and her 
 mother's hopes were realized. Jessie told her 
 afterward that she was the most lovely creature 
 she had ever seen. 
 
 "But that is not what I want to be, Jessie, I 
 want to be the most useful girl this town has ever 
 given to the world," and she meant it with all 
 her heart. 
 
 Marvin was disappointed because he could not 
 bring himself to be sentimental with this digni- 
 fied girl. When he tried to be the least bit gal- 
 lant, she was as cold as ice. He asked permis- 
 sion to call on her at home ; but she gave him a 
 little smile and said: 
 
 "It isn't worth while, Marvin. I am going to 
 leave for Chilton within a few weeks. It hasn't 
 been given out yet, but I am going to be a trained 
 nurse."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 157 
 
 "I thought you and Drury were going to 
 marry?" 
 
 "Your thoughts were premature." 
 
 There, he had blundered again ; for there was 
 that in her simple words that permanently dis- 
 missed the subject. 
 
 What he failed to say to her in speech that 
 night, he wrote the next day. His declaration 
 was manly and simple. He begged her to dis- 
 miss the idea of becoming a nurse, and to give 
 him the chance to win her love. He was not in 
 a hurry, and, if she would go away for training, 
 he begged the privilege of writing her occasion- 
 ally. 
 
 Her answer was polite and definite. She told 
 him that she would never marry, and that it 
 would be a waste of time, and altogether futile 
 for him to write her with the hope that she 
 would alter her decision. She thanked him for 
 the honor conferred, and wished him all happi- 
 ness and success. So thoroughly did she dispose 
 of the matter that he went back to Miss Dawson, 
 and, very soon thereafter, their engagement was 
 announced. Dixie could not repress a smile 
 when she heard the news the day before she left 
 Tamalpias. 
 
 Drury came that afternoon. Never had he un- 
 dertaken a task so difficult. He felt that every- 
 body in Tamalpias knew of his plight, and, while 
 he was sure of Jim Miller's confidence and sym- 
 pathy, he could not repress the feeling that he 
 was an intruder, an outcast among men. Mr. Mil- 
 ler soon put him at his ease. Dixie was the same
 
 158 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 sweet woman, and the love-light in her gray 
 eyes told him that, to her, he was a man among 
 his fellows. Mrs. Miller treated him as a son, 
 and Jessie and Jack made him know that he was 
 at home and honored for his own sake. 
 
 His work had won for him appointment as 
 interne at the very hospital where Dixie had se- 
 cured admittance as an apprentice, and this 
 modified their mutual sorrow. Drury had made 
 his own investigations, and thoroughly coincided 
 with the decision of the Millers that marriage 
 was out of the question. He expressed his ap- 
 preciation of the fact that Jim Miller had kept 
 the matter confidential, except that he had told 
 Dr. McConnell. 
 
 The two years and more of almost entire ab- 
 sence from Tamalpias had brought Drury to 
 manhood, and a type of manhood that pleased his 
 friends very much. He was larger than they had 
 expected him to be, and his touch with great teach- 
 ers had given him a breadth and equilibrium that 
 made one feel there was a future for the young doc- 
 tor; and it made him just a little vain to have old 
 schoolmates use the title so naturally and with real 
 deference. He even dreamed of a day when he 
 could come back and prove his right to the appella- 
 tion by taking up practice among them. 
 
 Dr. McConnell renewed his urgent invitation 
 for Drury to finish his time as interne and enter 
 partnership with him, and clinched the invita- 
 tion with the argument that a couple of years 
 of general practice would the better prepare him 
 for the successful practice of surgery ; and Drury
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 159 
 
 was so convinced that he entered into the com- 
 pact. 
 
 The visit was a pleasant one for Drury, and 
 would have been without regret had it not been 
 for a dark insinuation from Marvin Harris on 
 the day of his departure. It was not what he 
 said, but the implied meaning of his words made 
 Drury know that his enemy either knew, or sus- 
 pected, the real status of matters between him 
 and Dixie. He was glad to get away from it all, 
 and out into the busy world, where he could 
 settle down to the task he had set himself. Dixie 
 had gone on two days before, and they would be 
 inspiration to each other.
 
 160 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE FIRST CAMPAIGN. 
 
 American politics has degenerated to the point 
 where men, instead of issues, are the controlling 
 factors. No matter what the issue may be in 
 local, State, or National elections, the side or 
 party wins that has the greatest leader. A 
 strong personality, ability to talk loud and long, 
 and plenty of money will elect any man or carry 
 any cause in almost any section of the country. 
 The result is that clean, self-respecting men keep 
 out of the game, and statesmanship is becoming 
 a rare thing. When the politicians have become 
 so corrupt that a suffering public can stand the 
 graft and slavery no longer, a reform movement 
 is started, there is scandal, and a few men are 
 punished for the crimes of the system. The 
 newspapers print sensational stories of corrup- 
 tion and graft, then declare that there has been 
 a civic reform that will make the repetition of 
 the same thing impossible. The people swell 
 with pride and swagger back to their homes, of- 
 fices, and business only to relapse into their 
 former lethargy, while a new set of gangsters 
 takes the place of the old and finishes out the 
 interrupted game of personal politics for the 
 spoils of public office and public funds. 
 
 Thus it is an endless round of corruption and 
 graft, exposure, and reform. Nor will it ever be 
 different until the whole system is purged, and
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 161 
 
 real merit and ability are recognized and re- 
 warded. 
 
 Nowhere is all this truer than in those offices 
 where the salaries and fees are inadequate to 
 support an honest man who is capable of the ser- 
 vice that is to be rendered. Representatives and 
 State senators are paid such small salaries that 
 very few men who are worthy and able to legis- 
 late, can be induced to leave their own affairs to 
 serve the public. It is also a fact that, when a 
 few such men are patriotic enough tx> sacrifice 
 their own interests in order to try to pass some 
 needed laws, they find the legislative halls crowd- 
 ed with men who have "pull," and the affairs 
 of state overshadowed by the lowest type of per- 
 sonal politics. 
 
 Jim Miller had not gone far in his campaign 
 until he learned all this. At first, it made the 
 outlook gloomy for him, and he was somewhat 
 discouraged. Bill Colton had the best of him 
 in experience, ability to harangue the voters, and 
 the fact that he was one of the Governor's hench- 
 men. It was only the magnitude of his cause 
 that made him set his jaws and determine to 
 fight to the last ditch against the monster that 
 had brought death and ruin to his family. He 
 soon saw that his hope lay in enlightening the 
 masses on the evils he sought to stamp out.. To 
 that end, he had printed thousands of circulars 
 and booklets giving the facts he had learned and 
 the evidence he had gathered. He spoke timidly 
 at first, but soon found his liberty, and, by the 
 time he had been on the hustings two weeks, he was 
 drawing great crowds by his burning eloquence.
 
 162 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 He had not intended referring to his sorrows ; 
 but, under the spell of his enthusiasm, he finally 
 told the story of Allie's death and little Jim's 
 blindness as the results of the profligate lives of 
 the men who had married his daughters. He was 
 not bitter, his sorrow had softened him toward 
 those ignorant men; his heart was broken, and 
 even his enemies could see that he was making 
 an appeal rather than uttering condemnation. 
 His purpose was so unselfish, and his object so 
 humanitarian that he drew to his support the in- 
 telligent voters who usually shrank from active 
 part in politics. Teachers, doctors, and ministers 
 rallied to him, and the plain farmers and ranchers 
 were aroused from their indifference to champion 
 this new leader, who proposed to emancipate 
 their daughters and sisters from the curse of a 
 double standard. 
 
 Bill Colton reported to the corruptionists that 
 "his opponent had attacked the liquor traffic and 
 was using scientific evidence to show its heredi- 
 tary effects. He called on them to get contradic- 
 tory statements from doctors and ministers, and 
 to send him money to keep this agitator out of 
 the legislature. The money was forthcoming by 
 return mail, and he had assurance that literature 
 would reach him immediately that would offset 
 the work of the "fanatic" that was trying to preju- 
 dice the mind of the public against their business. 
 
 Nor was he disappointed. There will always be 
 men in the medical profession, and in the min- 
 istry, that can be hired to make statements in- 
 tended to shield wrong-doers and bad business.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 163 
 
 The district was soon flooded with circulars 
 denying the truth Jim was teaching, and they 
 had the appearance of authentic opinions by phy- 
 sicians and ministers. 
 
 They had reckoned without their host, however ; 
 for Jim Miller was quick to send detectives to 
 locate every man whose name was on these cir- 
 culars. Their main medical authority was found 
 to be a man that had really taken a course in 
 medicine, but had become a slave to the cocaine 
 habit, and would do anything to get the drug. 
 One of the ministers has been excluded from the 
 church, and was a cobbler, and a lecturer on 
 Socialism. Thus it went with the lot. Neither 
 side spared money nor printer's ink. The women 
 took up the fight, and no such campaign had ever 
 been waged, not even the prohibition campaign 
 of five years before, as swept that senatorial dis- 
 trict when Jim Miller ran for the office on behalf 
 of pure manhood and character, and Bill Colton 
 ran in the interests of liquor, libertinism, and 
 dirty politics. 
 
 Colton's crowd sent men to Kentucky in an 
 endeavor to find something in Jim Miller's past 
 history that would help them in their failing 
 cause ; but there was nothing to be uncovered 
 that would help defeat him. His record was 
 clean all the way through, and he had always 
 been honest and straightforward in his deal- 
 ings with men, and they abandoned that effort. In 
 vain, they urged his lack of political influence 
 and knowledge of law and law-making. Jim re- 
 plied that he did not claim much of either; but
 
 164 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 he did know that something must be done. It was 
 money, place, and liquor against women and 
 babies. He had contributed children and a grand- 
 child, and was now giving time and money on 
 the side of innocent human beings ; let those who 
 would have protection for coming generations 
 vote for him, and Bill Colton and his crowd must 
 bear the responsibility of their position. 
 
 People are slow to learn, and the magnitude 
 of the task Jim Miller had set for himself made 
 many sympathize with him, then shake their 
 heads and prophesy failure. Some were horrified 
 at public discussion of such delicate matters and 
 condemned Jim for agitating them. These prudes 
 were of both sexes and of all ages. They held up 
 their hands in holy horror as they declared it 
 an outrage that such sacred things should -be 
 dragged into politics. Colton caught at this 
 straw and made much of it. He deplored the de- 
 cadence of gentility that suffered men to so excite 
 women that they would leave their firesides to 
 dabble in questions that were proper to be dis- 
 cussed only in the office of a physician. 
 
 Jim found, also, that when you raise the 
 question of curtailing a man's natural propensi- 
 ties, however depraved they may be, you have at 
 once aroused the opposition of that man. His 
 proposed laws were construed to mean that cer- 
 tain personal rights and liberties were to be 
 taken from men, and they resented the idea. 
 Young men congregated in the pool-halls and 
 loafing-places, and discussed the proposition that 
 every man would have to get a certificate from
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 165 
 
 two physicians declaring him fit before he could 
 get a license to wed. They were against that ; for 
 they found it was true that not more than one 
 out of five of them could get such certificates. He 
 was also proposing a law that no man could get a 
 license to wed who had been intoxicated twice 
 in the preceding twelve months. They could not 
 stand for that ! 
 
 Some of his friends began to fear that there 
 was danger of his being assassinated by a drink- 
 crazed partisan who considered his rights were 
 at stake. But Jim Miller was not a coward, nor 
 was he intimidated by idle threats. He answered 
 all their arguments with logic and the most with- 
 ering sarcasm. When asked what he would do 
 in the event Colton defeated him, he replied in- 
 stantly : 
 
 "I would make the race again, two years 
 hence. But I am not going to be defeated. My 
 fight is righteous and unselfish, and I am going 
 to win. Watch the returns." 
 
 It was sure to be a close race. Colton was 
 claiming the district by a large majority ; but 
 that is a trick of the politicians. Miller was say- 
 ing little and working hard right up to the last 
 moment. The women had organized over the 
 whole district, and, on election-day, they met in 
 the churches early in the morning and spent the 
 entire day in praying that their champion would 
 win. This was counterbalanced by jugs of 
 whiskey hidden in barns and old store buildings, 
 to which the thirsty voter was piloted by one 
 of Colton's workers.
 
 166 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 The weather was fine and the voting heavy. 
 Jim Miller stayed in his office at Tamalpias, 
 where he could keep in touch with the situation 
 by telephone. Before noon, there began to be re- 
 ports from certain places that Mexicans and ne- 
 groes were being voted in squads by Colton's 
 men. It was too late to help it; but, in case of 
 a close vote, it might furnish ground for a con- 
 test. Jim instructed his men at other places to 
 look out for the same trick and prevent it if pos- 
 sible. As reports of coercion and corruption 
 came in on the one hand, and of work and pray- 
 ers and tears on the other, he was reminded of 
 the battle that was waged over the unconscious 
 form of Allie. His chin quivered and his breath 
 came in gasps. Then, he clenched his teeth and 
 struck the table with his fist, as he muttered : 
 
 "I must win ! To lose this fight is to lose my 
 revenge for the wrongs of my children. O Allie, 
 my child, I must win !" 
 
 The returns came in slowly. Now, Miller was 
 ahead; then, it was Colton. Through the night, 
 it was first one then the other in the lead. The 
 unofficial count gave Colton five votes majority. 
 There followed a week of uneasy waiting for the 
 official count to be announced. No contests were 
 filed, and the commissioner's report would be 
 final. On the strength of the reports by tele- 
 phone and mail, Bill Colton and his crowd got 
 drunk and shouted over their victory. Bill showed 
 a roll of bills that he had saved for himself out of 
 the slush fund sent him by outside interests. 
 
 Their rejoicing came to a sudden and timely
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 167 
 
 end when it was announced that Jim Miller had 
 carried the district by fifty-seven votes. Then, 
 the other camp began to rejoice and send tokens 
 to each other. Congratulations came to Jim from 
 over the whole State and from other States. His- 
 wife and Jessie had helped him more than they 
 knew, and he told them so that night. 
 
 "But this is only the first skirmish ; we have 
 yet to fight the real battle. What they have done 
 here is only an indication of the fight the oppo- 
 sition will put up in the legislature. My con- 
 solation lies in the fact that, while the battle 
 rages, the people are being enlightened. Maury 
 was right ; we must educate the young, and I am 
 going to urge the passage of laws that will give 
 to every county a school physician whose duty it 
 will be to lecture to the boys in the grammar and 
 high-school grades on these subjects. Then, I 
 want a lady with medical training to lecture to 
 the girls in the same grades on sex hygiene and 
 physiology. Education is the only way out, after 
 all." 
 
 "Yes," agreed his wife, "I am sure you are 
 right, and I want to establish a school for the 
 training of these lady lecturers. The ten thou- 
 sand dollars Maury set aside for this purpose will 
 be a nucleus, and we can add to it. I have been 
 thinking that, perhaps, this is the work Dixie can 
 help us inaugurate after she has finished her 
 training." 
 
 "That is capital !" cried Jim, and they fell to 
 planning to complete their revenge on the Mon- 
 ster that had devoured their former happiness.
 
 168 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Jessie was as enthusiastic as her parents in the 
 undertaking, and asked to be allowed a part in it. 
 Her income was sufficient to enable her to give 
 both time and money to it, and her father gladly 
 accepted her offer. If Jack and Dixie joined 
 them, and they would, the whole family would 
 be arrayed in the war against the giant wrong. 
 
 "Senator" Miller, as his fellow citizens now 
 called him, did not wait until the legislature 
 convened to push the campaign of enlightenment. 
 He continued to gather information and data, and 
 publish circulars and tracts by the thousands. He 
 established a paper in the interests of the move- 
 ment and secured one of the best editorial man- 
 agers and writers in the country to take charge 
 of it. Purity journals and magazines through- 
 out the Nation recognized a hero had come to 
 the front, and tendered him their assistance. 
 Other States took cognizance of the movement, 
 and the obscure ranchman had started a wave of 
 real reform that was destined to move surely, 
 though slowly, until his revenge would be com- 
 plete. 
 
 As he expected, he found opposition of the 
 most formidable kind awaiting him at the Capi- 
 tol. But the fiercest opposition was not as much 
 in his way as the type of personal politics we 
 have referred to. From janitor to Governor, ev- 
 ery man was only a cog in a wheel that revolved 
 round a Boss who marked the destiny of men 
 and measures as a shipping clerk checks the 
 articles on his bills. His proposed bills would 
 have to be stamped "O. K." by this Boss before
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 169 
 
 they could pass, and he was not long in finding 
 out that the Boss was against any measure that 
 struck, even indirectly, at moral questions. When 
 he became satisfied that he could not secure the 
 enactment of his bills during that term, he threw 
 himself into other matters with a vim and wis- 
 dom that made the politicians sit up and take 
 notice that the new Senator was out of the ordi- 
 nary, and would have to be taken into account. 
 He was sure of a second term, according to the cus- 
 tom of his party in the State, and he could af- 
 ford to work another two years to attain his 
 end. 
 
 The Boss tried to approach him, and his col- 
 leagues hinted at the advantage there was in 
 being on good terms with the Boss. They tried 
 coercion when other tactics failed ; but Jim Miller 
 could not see why men elected by the people 
 should have a Boss, and he told them so in open- 
 debate. Although he did not realize it at the 
 moment, he was throwing down the gauntlet to 
 the Boss, and that individual proceeded to pick it 
 up at once. That was the beginning. The end 
 is not yet.
 
 170 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF HEALING. 
 
 It was born in the heart of a man this House 
 of Healing. The man's friend had died for want 
 of surgical attention, and the man dreamed of a 
 sanitarium where other men could have the very 
 best service possible. He bided his time, studying 
 the question and planning, visiting hospitals, 
 talking with surgeons, and gathering money. He 
 sent his architects to Baltimore and New York 
 with instructions to make plans for a building 
 that would be ideal for its great purpose. Then, 
 through the months on months consumed in the 
 erection, he watched the materials brought in 
 and put together. The groans of those mangled 
 by cars and trucks on the streets of his city found 
 an echo in his heart, and he urged the contrac- 
 tors to hurry. His first thought, as he opened 
 his eyes each morning, was of the House of 
 Healing, and he would look out of his east win- 
 dow to see if the walls were yet high enough to 
 be discovered over the intervening house-tops. 
 Many moonlight nights he walked amid the shad- 
 ows of naked steel beams that were slowly finding 
 their places for floors and elevator shafts. Ar- 
 chitects put it on paper, artisans carried out the 
 instructions of the blue-prints, quarries and 
 mines yielded up their treasure to furnish the 
 materials ; but the building was conceived and 
 born of this man's heart. He experienced all the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 171 
 
 anguish of travail as it came into being, and his 
 hand patted its corridors, and caressed its pillars, 
 as tenderly as any mother ever kissed her first- 
 born. 
 
 At last, it was finished. The doctors came, and 
 the nurses. White beds filled the wards and 
 rooms. Appliances, instruments, tables, were in 
 place. Washed, medicated air passed through it, 
 warmed or cooled according to the thermostats 
 set by the attendants. Elevators ran noiselessly 
 up and down, and the patients began to arrive. 
 The House of Healing was absolutely fire-proof 
 and sanitary. The man looked on, and the first 
 smile, since his friend had died, lighted his noble 
 face. The child was full-grown and beginning 
 to serve an afflicted race. Why should not the 
 man show his gratification by a smile? Genera- 
 tion after generation will be served in the House 
 of Healing, and the name of the man will be 
 spoken after he has taken his last farewell of the 
 child of his heart. That is real life. 
 
 It was to this magnificent institution that 
 Dixie went for training, and in which Drury had 
 the good fortune to be appointed interne. They 
 saw little of each other except on the occasion of 
 holidays, or the chance meeting in one of the 
 operating rooms, or in a charity ward. Both 
 had passed the purely sentimental stage, and 
 their environment and their purpose in life pre- 
 cluded any silly happenings in their relationships. 
 
 Drury became a general favorite with students 
 and doctors, and showed natural adaptability and 
 aptitude. He loved surgery and was soon kept
 
 172 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 busy assisting in emergency cases. The Man 
 came to notice him, and gave him much encour- 
 agement by his kindly words ; Drury loved the 
 Man at once and wished to be like him. Nor 
 did he wish in vain; for it was soon whispered 
 that he looked like the Man, and his voice un- 
 consciously partook of the quality of the Man's. 
 He walked like the Man, and, most of all, he 
 wanted to be the character this Man evidently 
 was. 
 
 Dixie was quick to notice the change in him, 
 and as quick to locate the ideal after which he 
 was moulding his life. She was glad, too. Every- 
 body loved the Man, and many tried to imitate 
 him, and made themselves ridiculous in the at- 
 tempt. However, Drury was not trying to imi- 
 tate him, and would have been insulted by the 
 suggestion. He simply wanted to be like him 
 in character, and was unconsciously acting and 
 speaking like him on that account. Although 
 his fellows noticed it, they refrained from twit- 
 ting him, as they did the others, because they 
 knew he was guileless in the matter. 
 
 Several months had passed by when Drury 
 and Dixie had a half-holiday together. They 
 went to a beautiful park for a few hours, and 
 Dixie told him of her father's election, and the 
 plans of the family. His interest was keen, and 
 he expressed his approval of the idea of a school 
 of training for woman lecturers in the public 
 schools. 
 
 "You will make an ideal principal of such a 
 school, Dixie. Since I can not make a home for
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 173 
 
 you, I shall be glad to see you make your life 
 count in that way." 
 
 "That is the only compensation I can ever hope 
 to have. Otherwise, I should not care to live." 
 
 "Are you not finding pleasure in your service 
 here?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed. I want to tell you ! The 
 sweetest thing happened a few days ago. They 
 brought in that little urchin, you remember, that 
 had been run over by a motorcycle? Well, after 
 the doctors had finished the operation, I was put 
 in charge of his case. There was a small room on 
 my floor not in use, and the head nurse directed 
 that he be put in there. It was quite a while 
 before he recovered from the effects of the anes- 
 thetic, and he went to sleep without seeming to 
 notice anything. Late in the afternoon, I was 
 sitting by his bedside when he awoke. He looked 
 at me, then at the white bed, at the walls and 
 furniture, and at some white roses in a vase. 
 Then, he turned to me and said : 'O yes, I know. 
 It killed me, and I am in heaven, and you are 
 God's wife !' Poor child, he had never been on 
 a clean bed before, did not even know that such 
 a place as the House of Healing existed on 
 earth." 
 
 "You must tell the Man about that." 
 
 "I did. It was the first time I have ever seen 
 tears in his eyes. Isn't he grand !" 
 
 "Indeed he is. I wish I was one-third as good 
 as he." 
 
 "You are, my dear boy. You must remember 
 he has had many years to ripen that character
 
 174 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 in, and you will be just as fine and grand as he, 
 at that age." 
 
 "In your eyes, I hope at least." 
 
 "Yes, and in goodness and usefulness to the 
 world." 
 
 Then, they wandered about the park, feeding 
 the squirrels, and watching the fish in the foun- 
 tain, until time to return to their duties. 
 
 If Dixie found little romances and happy in- 
 cidents in her work, she also found things not 
 so pleasant. Sometimes, her patient would be a 
 grouchy old man, who could never be pleased 
 nor humored. Again, there would be a querulous 
 old woman, who would persist in talking when 
 told to be quiet ; or a stubborn boy, who would 
 not obey. Worse than these, however, was the 
 petted, spoiled patient, who cried and pouted, 
 and the one whose convalescent whims gave 
 trouble. 
 
 The trained nurse must be a strong character, 
 for her position is a trying one. Dixie had a 
 charge that persisted in making love to her. He 
 was slow in recovering from a serious operation, 
 and he declared he did not want to get well 
 enough to leave unless she would promise to 
 leave with him. So fervent did he become that 
 she persuaded the head nurse to allow her to 
 exchange with another girl. The man was al- 
 most immediately well enough to be wheeled 
 about the corridors, where he would lie in wait 
 for her. He sent her flowers and presents, and 
 wrote her love-letters. Her cold demeanor and 
 polite replies that she could not return his af-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 175 
 
 fection, and her emphatic refusal of his offer of 
 marriage, only made him the more ardent; but, 
 when he was discharged as cured, she heard no 
 more of him. Evidently, he had dropped back 
 into an old groove of life perchance returned to 
 an old love, or, who knows, found a new. 
 
 During her second year, she found several 
 patients who thought a nurse a piece of public 
 property to be used or abused according to their 
 fancy or whims. They paid for treatment and 
 nursing, and, with the inconsistency of the near- 
 sick, expected every caprice to be gratified, 
 whether reasonable or not. They found one 
 nurse, however, that fully understood her calling 
 and had the qualities of tenderness and tact well 
 balanced by will-power and courage. She did 
 not undertake to lecture them, nor did she as- 
 sume the air of injured innocence. Her attitude 
 was that of assistant physician. 
 
 Her character and tact were quickly recog- 
 nized and the superintendent told her she was 
 destined to become a head nurse if she wished 
 such a position. Her plans, however, were more 
 in keeping with her father's ambition. She was 
 only too anxious for her apprenticeship to come 
 to an end, so she could join forces with her 
 parents in the fight against the Monster. She. told 
 a few of the other nurses about the things her 
 father had discovered, and the warfare he has 
 taken up against social sin, and the little com- 
 pany began to study the question together. They 
 were alarmed at the number of patients who 
 were in the House of Healing on account of this
 
 176 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 very thing, and, from doctors, women, and older 
 nurses, they gathered facts that made them 
 thankful Jim Miller had arisen to lead the great 
 campaign. Dixie obtained promises from a 
 goodly number of these nurses to help her in the 
 school she was to head, and of others to become 
 lecturers in the public schools when laws were 
 passed to "that effect. 
 
 The Man learned of her father and his sor- 
 rows, and of the revenge he had undertaken; 
 also of the part Dixie was to play in it all ; and 
 he sent for her and gave her his benediction. 
 
 "You will meet much opposition, Miss Miller; 
 those who lead reforms always do. Your father has 
 found that out. You must make up your mind 
 to spend your life without seeing very much 
 accomplished; but you are engaging in a right- 
 eous cause, and the work you begin will be 
 taken up by those who come after you, and 
 generations will rise up and call you blessed. 
 Tell your father that my poor work is only to 
 repair the damage after it is done ; but his mighty 
 task is to prevent the wrecks. That is far the 
 greater work." 
 
 "I thank you for these noble, cheering words. 
 If we may have the approval of such men as you, 
 we will not care for the opposition, nor for the 
 time it takes to firmly establish the work. But, 
 to compare what we are hoping to do with the 
 magnificent thing you l have already accomp- 
 lished, seems like sacrilege. You work is akin 
 to that of the Christ." 
 
 "Ah, but it is so limited! We help a few
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 177 
 
 thousands your father is helping the whole race. 
 Thank God that you may help him in his God- 
 given work." 
 
 It was always thus. The Man had the won- 
 derful gift of inspiring others to great deeds, and 
 never put himself, nor the institution he had 
 brought into being, forward as an example. 
 Dixie went from his presence strangely exhil- 
 arated and confident. 
 
 She wrote her father about this conversation, 
 and was delighted when he replied that the en- 
 couragement had come when he needed it most. 
 His enemies were doing their utmost to prevent 
 his return to the senate, and this timely word 
 gave him inspiration to throw himself into the 
 struggle with new vigor. 
 
 Drury had finished his service in the House of 
 Healing, and had returned to Tamalpias to carry 
 out his contract with Dr. McConnell. She wrote 
 him, also, of the talk with the Man, and it 
 warmed his heart and made him resolve to do 
 his best for the suffering ones about him. He 
 wondered if the Man knew how his words were 
 repeated and passed on to the teeming thousands, 
 giving cheer, firing ambition, warming selfish 
 hearts, and stirring enthusiasm. Again, he de- 
 termined to be like him. His reply to Dixie's 
 letter recorded the renewal of that resolution, and 
 her heart was glad. She longed for the right 
 and the opportunity to help him achieve such 
 character and greatness.
 
 178 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 DRURY PATTERSON, M. D. 
 
 It would have been difficult for Drury to have 
 returned to Tamalpias for the practise of his 
 profession, had he not become the protege and 
 partner of Dr. McConnell. His life and character 
 were so clean that he had no fears along that 
 line; but the old proverb is true: "A prophet is 
 not without honor save in his own country." 
 He had arrived at Tamalpias when he was a 
 mere boy, and he knew everybody. "Familiarity 
 breeds contempt," and he was timid about claim- 
 ing knowledge and ability in his profession 
 among those who had never discovered anything 
 unusual in his caliber or attainments. True, he 
 had won honors in the high school ; but some one 
 did that every year. Beyond all this was the 
 stern fact that he was the child of a drunkard 
 who had died of delirium tremens. The town- 
 folk did not hold this against him in any definite 
 way; however, he knew that it would be used in 
 case he aroused any opposition. He shrank from 
 the possibility of such aspersion, yet he knew 
 that his position on certain questions, and the 
 things that would come up in the practice of his 
 profession, would engender conpetitive opposi- 
 tion and criticism, and the enmity of those whose 
 calls for illegal work he must preemptorily de- 
 cline. Much of this would be avoided by en- 
 tering the firm as junior partner. Dr. McCon- 
 iiell would become fully responsble for everything
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 179 
 
 that came up in the practice, and Drury would 
 have his advice and counsel. The old Doctor 
 treated him more as a son than as a partner, and 
 Drury looked on him as a father. Their talks 
 were frank and full of mutual confidence, and the 
 older man fully recognized the up-to-date train- 
 ing and education of the younger. 
 
 It was a brisk fall morning, and the young 
 Doctor was invigorated by his morning bath and 
 the long walk in the fresh air, when he came 
 down the street to the office. As he neared the 
 stairway, he noticed a new sign swinging at the 
 entrance. His pulse quickened and his breast 
 heaved with pride as he read the gilt letters : 
 
 "DRS. McCONNELL & PATTERSON, 
 Physicians and Surgeons." 
 
 He did not know the order for the sign had 
 been given, and his surprise was complete. An 
 old schoolmate was passing and stopped to con- 
 gratulate him, and his cup was full to over- 
 flowing. He had dreamed of the time when his 
 name would be announced as a healer of men ; 
 but to have it coupled like this, with the name of 
 such a successful doctor as this dear old man 
 who had made a place for himself in every heart 
 and home in the Valley, was more than he had 
 expected for ten years to come. His experience 
 in the House of Healing had given him ease and 
 grace in the sick-room, as well as ability to in- 
 spire the confidence of family and patient. His 
 first calls were made in the company of Dr. 
 McConnell; but it was not long until it became
 
 180 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 necessary for him to visit some of their patients 
 by himself. 
 
 His only embarrassment was when he was 
 called to see old playmates or schoolmates. He 
 soon saw, however, that their embarrassment 
 was greater than his, and that helped him to 
 gain that poise and equilibrium that quickly 
 overcame all timidity and sensitiveness. Indeed, 
 it was not long until he was called, by prefer- 
 ence, to many homes where his partner had 
 attended for years. His bright disposition, which 
 had been a striking characteristic since child- 
 hood, was a valuable asset in any sick-room. His 
 touch was light and his manner gentle; his 
 methods were firmness and promptitude; his de- 
 mands were cleanliness and cheerfulness, and he 
 never talked of himself nor paraded his knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Under his treatment and suggestion, several 
 chronic cases that had been under treatment for 
 years were cured, and these persons went about 
 singing his praises. He was reputed to have 
 cured young Martin Williams of a malady that had 
 baffled many doctors ; but he and Martin knew 
 that his medicine had been compounded mostly 
 of sound lecturing and helpful advice. 
 
 Marvin Harris had married Thelma Dawson, 
 and they spent the summer in Michigan. When 
 they came home in October, Marvin scoffed at 
 the idea of Drury Patterson being in the active 
 practice of medicine, and especially, being a part- 
 ner of Dr. McConnell. 
 
 "What is the matter with Dr. McConnell, any-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 181 
 
 how? he ought to have better sense than to take 
 that fellow in with him. What can he ever 
 amount to? Why, it means the death of the 
 folks that have him. Of course, these young 
 doctors must have somebody to experiment on ; 
 but Drury Patterson will kill more people than 
 he will ever cure." He talked like that until Dr. 
 McConnell heard it, and went to him. Even 
 then, he refused to believe that the son of a 
 drunkard like John Patterson could ever amount 
 to anything. There were a few who sided with 
 him, and they told Dr. McConnell that he must 
 never send Drury to see their sick. 
 
 An epidemic of scarlet fever broke out in 
 December, and the schools were closed on ac- 
 count of it. Drury threw himself into the work 
 of checking the disease with such vigor that all 
 the doctors were astounded. His methods were 
 new to them, and the response to his use of the 
 serum was so prompt and effective that he was 
 called in consultation with every doctor in the 
 Valley. If anything was needed to establish him 
 firmly after that, it came when three cases of 
 diphtheria almost threw the town into panic, 
 and he was successful in the use of that serum. 
 Marvin Harris's baby was two weeks old when 
 Dr. McConnell was stricken with a fever. He 
 sent Drury to make a call there in his stead ; but 
 Marvin would not receive him. Although the 
 insult was keen, Drury was more concerned 
 about the afflicted baby than he was about the 
 unjust words of his old rival. At that particular 
 time, the only other doctor to be had was a man
 
 182 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 who was somewhat dissipated, and who had very 
 little practice. He was called, and told them 
 there was nothing wrong with the child's eyes 
 except that he had taken a little cold, which had 
 settled in them. Mrs. Harris was not doing 
 well, and they sent for a trained nurse, when who 
 should be detailed for this service but Dixie 
 Miller ! She was glad to undertake the duty, as 
 it would take her home for a short time. She 
 did not know whom she was to serve until she 
 arrived, nor did they know who would be sent. 
 Marvin and Thelma were both delighted when 
 Dixie arrived, and she was soon installed in 
 charge of both mother and child. It took her 
 only a few hours to become convinced that there 
 was more than "cold" wrong with the baby's 
 eyes, and she asked the privilege of carrying it 
 to Dr. McConnell's home, that he might see it. 
 This was done, and the old physician sent for 
 Drury immediately. To the experienced young 
 doctor, there was hardly need of microscopic 
 examination before pronouncing the trouble 
 ophthalmia. He had learned to be painstaking, 
 however, and he did not give his diagnosis until 
 he had the evidence of science. Since Dr. Pat- 
 terson had been insulted and forbidden the home 
 of Marvin Harris, and since Dr. McConnell was 
 too ill to treat the child, the only thing to be 
 done was to send for the father and talk with 
 him. This Dr. McConnell did. When he came, 
 the Doctor said : 
 
 "Marvin, I am a sick man and do not know 
 that I shall ever get well. If I was able, I would
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 183 
 
 undertaken to treat your baby's eyes. You have 
 refused the services of Dr. Patterson for no other 
 reason than your prejudice, and foolish enmity. 
 I can not say anything about the doctor you have 
 employed, but I am compelled to tell you that, 
 under the present treatment, or lack of it, your 
 child will be blind within a month. Your wife 
 is not able to take it away for treatment, nor is 
 that necessary; Dr. Patterson can cure it as well 
 as any specialist in the world. Lay aside your 
 prejudice and let him serve your child." 
 
 "What is the trouble with the baby's eyes, Dr. 
 McConnell?" 
 
 "Ophthalmia." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "It is the same disease that destroyed Little 
 Jim Miller's eyes." 
 
 "What! Is that what Jim Miller is lecturing 
 about?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "But I never " 
 
 "Hold on, Marvin. Remember you are talking^ 
 to your own physician now. You might plead 
 innocence to another, but not to me. You 
 laughed at me when I told you the truth. Now, 
 your child is suffering for your sin, and this 
 trouble must be attended to at once if you would 
 save the sight of the babe." 
 
 "Are you sure of this, Doctor?" 
 
 "Absolutely. I had Dr. Patterson examine a 
 specimen from the baby's eyes under the micro- 
 scope, and there can be no doubt about it."
 
 184 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "And Dixie Miller and Drury Patterson know 
 all about this?" 
 
 "Yes. Miss Miller knew it at once. That is 
 why she brought the child to me." 
 
 "My God ! I would rather any one in the 
 world would know it than they, except my father 
 and my wife. Must they know it?" 
 
 "No need for that. Dr. Patterson will never 
 tell a soul what the trouble is, nor will Miss 
 Miller. They are trained to keep professional 
 secrets. The treatment will not arouse suspicion, 
 and the child will be well in a short time." 
 
 "My wife will not know?" 
 
 "Not through doctor or nurse." 
 
 "Well, I suppose there is nothing else to be 
 done. Send Drury right away, if he will come." 
 
 "No. I want you to be a man. You insulted 
 him ; now go to the office and apologize to him, 
 then ask him to take the case. He is a perfect 
 gentleman, and he would attend the child if I 
 asked him to. You owe it to him, though, and 
 to yourself, to go to him like a man and ask him 
 to take the case." 
 
 "You are asking me to do a hard thing." 
 
 "No,, sir, I am asking you to do a big thing, a 
 manly thing. If you are a real gentleman, you 
 will do it." 
 
 "All right, Doctor, I will do it." 
 
 He found Dr. Patterson busy and had to wait 
 for his turn to be admitted to the consultation- 
 room. While he waited, he looked about. 
 There, on the wall, beside Dr. McConnell's an- 
 cient sheepskin, was Drury Patterson's diploma,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 185 
 
 and his license from the State Medical Board. 
 It began to dawn on him that he had turned a 
 man from his door who was fully recognized by 
 the highest authority in his profession, and all 
 for puerile reasons, too. Some of the waiting 
 patients were discussing the Doctor, and they all, 
 with one accord, declared him a wonderful 
 healer. Their very presence there was proof of 
 their faith in his powers, and Marvin began to 
 wish for his turn to come to enter that mysteri- 
 ous room where secrets are carried in, but never 
 carried out. At last, Dr. Patterson came out 
 with an old man, and, when he had dismissed 
 him, turned and extended his hand to Marvin. 
 
 "How are you, Mr. Harris?" he said, with the 
 utmost earnestness. "What can I do for you?" 
 
 "I want to consult you privately, Dru Dr. 
 
 Patterson." 
 
 "Step into my room." 
 
 Marvin found it difficult to come to the matter 
 in hand. He felt, as never before, that he was 
 the vagabond, the outcast. He knew that Drury 
 had always shunned the very sin that was now 
 proving his own ruin. He had called him the 
 child of a drunkard, while he himself had been 
 worse than a drunkard. Dr. Patterson saw his 
 confusion and asked: 
 
 "How is Mrs. Harris?" 
 
 "She is not getting well at all. There is no 
 use in beating about the bush, Doctor. You 
 know my awful fix and what brings me here. I 
 was a cad to treat you as I did. You always beat 
 me at athletics; you excelled me in school; you
 
 186 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 won the lasting love of the girl I wanted to 
 marry; and I allowed my foolish prejudice and 
 jealousy to overbalance my judgment. I ask you 
 to pardon my nasty words, and forget that I ever 
 acted so rudely to you." 
 
 "You embarrass me, Marvin. I assure you 
 that I have no ill-will toward you, and shall 
 never think of all that again." 
 
 "Thank you, Doctor. With your pardon, I 
 also ask your service in saving the eyes of my 
 child, if it is not too late. Dr. McConnell told 
 me plainly what the disease is, and I am sure 
 you can not have the respect for me that I have 
 for you. You have always been so clean and 
 pure ; that is one reason I have not been cour- 
 teous to you ; but I have more respect for you, 
 now that I realize what I have done." 
 
 "That is noble. We will not discuss it any 
 further, just now. I will be out to see the baby 
 within an hour. God bless you and help us to save 
 the little eyes." 
 
 Marvin's hardest task was to enter the pres- 
 ence of the nurse who knew him so well, and 
 who now knew him for what he really was. 
 Never had his proud spirit been so humbled, and 
 he thought he could see why Maury Tallman had 
 taken his own life. That was what he would do 
 if his baby's eyes were not saved. And to think 
 that this young doctor and this nurse should be 
 the ones to discover the trouble and provide the 
 cure, was almost more than he could bear. 
 
 Dixie was as kind and unembarrassed as if she 
 was in the home of her own kindred, and she
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 187 
 
 seemed to love the baby from the very first. 
 Mrs. Harris was overjoyed at the attention and 
 capability of the nurse, and told Marvin she was 
 a perfect angel. 
 
 Dr. Patterson soon had the case well in hand 
 and was gratified to see the steady improvement 
 in the eyes. The other doctor had been dismissed 
 before he took charge of the case, and Drury 
 was also asked to attend the mother. He found 
 her suffering intensely, and soon decided that 
 she would have to undergo an operation. This 
 was such a shock to Marvin that he became 
 desperate, and it was with difficulty that Dr. 
 Patterson dissuaded him from his purpose to 
 follow Maury Tallman in taking his own life. 
 To make matters worse, in a fit of remorse, he 
 went into the invalid's room and told her the 
 whole horrid story, and explained to her the 
 cause of the baby's narrow escape and her own 
 infirmity. The shock was very great, but no 
 greater than the effect on her attitude to him. 
 She spurned him, and threatened to leave him 
 and secure a divorce. He begged and sobbed, 
 but she was obdurate. In his distress, he turned 
 to Dixie and implored her to intercede for him. 
 It is well she had such marvelous tact and 
 powers of persuasion, for it was the hardest task 
 she ever undertook. For more than a week, she 
 argued, and urged his ignorance and his repent- 
 ance. Dr. Patterson added his plea to Dixie's 
 but, it was not until they told her that Marvin 
 was breaking down, and would likely destroy 
 himself, that she relented and sent for him ; and,
 
 188 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 just like a woman, her forgiveness was full and 
 complete, and the fire only welded their love 
 more firmly than it had ever been. 
 
 There was no one prouder than Dr. McConnell 
 when Dixie took the baby over to let him see it 
 after it was well. Its bright eyes sparkled in 
 their clearness, and it responded to his play with 
 smiles and baby laughter. 
 
 "It is a happy day for me," he told Dixie. "I 
 have loved Drury Patterson ever since I first 
 saw him. I knew he would make his mark, and 
 I am doubly pleased that he has chosen my pro- 
 fession. Why, the saving of these little eyes is 
 a greater blessing than some people have ever 
 been to the world." 
 
 "I am glad you have been such a friend to 
 him, Dr. McConnell. You have helped and in- 
 spired him more than you know." 
 
 "I suspect you have been more inspiration to 
 him than any one else. Of course, you understand 
 that I know why you have not married, Dixie. 
 There never was a nobler, cleaner man than Dr. 
 Patterson ; he is as fine and pure as he can be, 
 and I sincerely wish he did not have John Pat- 
 terson's blood in his veins. You are both the most 
 sensible young people I ever knew." 
 
 "Thank you for your kind words, Doctor. We 
 are both happy in the work we have chosen, and 
 the privilege of co-operating in this one case is 
 a measure of compensation." 
 
 Marvin Harris, watching them in their work, 
 envied them. They were more like two doctors 
 working in perfect harmony than two lovers, for
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 189 
 
 they never allowed themselves to become silly. 
 Their love was too sacred to talk much about. 
 It was only when they congratulated themselves 
 on the success of their efforts, as they held hands 
 for a moment and looked into each other's eyes 
 with pride, that the fires burned on the altars of 
 their hearts with more than usual fervor. It was 
 an undying affection that was made holy by the 
 barriers to its consummation He had wonderful 
 control of himself, for he knew that the battle 
 was mostly his. The maternal instinct was very 
 strong in Dixie. She dreamed of nursing the 
 Harris baby, and, several times, the dreams 
 transformed her into a modern madonna. She 
 would awaken with a strange feeling that the 
 baby on her arm was her own ; then, her sorrow 
 would amount almost to rebellion at the circum- 
 stances that forbade her the exalted privilege of mo- 
 therhood. 
 
 When Mrs. Harris was able, Dr. Patterson 
 took her to the city, that she might have the 
 advantage of the equipment of the House of 
 Healing and the services of the best surgeons 
 in the State. Dixie returned with him, and was 
 made special nurse in the case. The operation 
 was successful, and the surgeon said she would 
 entirely recover if complications did not arise. 
 Marvin was entirely subdued, and his friends 
 knew he would never be the same impetuous man 
 again. His parents never knew what the trouble 
 was with either mother or baby, and his wife 
 came to look on it all as an unavoidable thing 
 over which neither of them had any control. She
 
 190 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 was content with her child, her husband, and her 
 nice home, and did not propose to worry over 
 the mistakes of the past nor the woes of others. 
 
 Drury was too busy to sit down and recount 
 his successes; but he was happy in seeing suf- 
 fering alleviated, and the gratitude of those he 
 served fully repaid him for the harsh words of 
 the few enemies who tried to disparage him. But 
 his greatest joy was that he was pleasing his 
 benefactor, Jim Miller. The Senator knew about 
 the baby, and he told the young doctor how much 
 he appreciated his ability to save eyes like that. 
 He forbade the young doctor ever to offer to re- 
 pay him the loan with which he had secured his 
 education; he declared he wanted that much in- 
 vestment in the great work already done, and in 
 what should yet be done. It was part of his re- 
 venge for the injuries to his own loved ones. 
 
 Mrs. Miller and Jessie Tallman were also 
 valuable friends of the junior member of the firm 
 of McConnell and Patterson. They entertained 
 him and recommended him to such purpose that 
 he was called into the best homes in the Valley, 
 and was soon established in the largest practice 
 any one doctor had ever had. His fees were large 
 because he was called to attend cases that were 
 formerly sent away for expert treatment in the 
 cities. Other doctors went about in their slow- 
 going buggies ; but he drove an automobile, and 
 was at the bedside of a patient before the others 
 could hitch up and start. When Dr. McConnell 
 recovered from his illness he took care of the 
 office practice, and turned over the visiting to 
 Dr. Patterson.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 191 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A RAY OF LIGHT FOR DRURY. 
 
 Dr. Patterson purchased a neat modern cot- 
 tage and installed his mother there. She never 
 went out; indeed, she had never mingled in the 
 social circles of Tamalpias. Since her widow- 
 hood, she had been more of a recluse than ever. 
 Drury urged her to entertain friends, and to ac- 
 cept the invitations that came, for his sake ; but 
 she could not bring herself to undertake the 
 responsibilities, and told him that she would be 
 more apt to embarrass him than to help. He ac- 
 cepted the situation, while deploring it. His na- 
 ture demanded social intercourse, and his pro- 
 fession made it almost imperative, if he was to be 
 more than an ordinary country doctor. His moth- 
 er's decision caused him to think, more than ever 
 before, what a help Dixie Miller could be to him 
 in making his life count. More than once he 
 wondered why his nature was so different from 
 his mother's, to say nothing of the wide dis- 
 similarity between him and the elder Patterson. 
 
 Mrs. Patterson was very careful for his com- 
 fort, and always had his meals served to his 
 exact taste and convenience. His clothes were 
 always in the best of order, and he could count 
 on her to see that the yard-man kept things ac- 
 cording to his instructions. What she lacked in 
 social qualities, she made up in housekeeping and 
 home-making ability and management. She was 
 a very devout woman. Many times, when he
 
 19W S JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 would come in late at night, he would find her 
 reading her Bible or praying. She was a regular 
 attendant at her church on Sunday mornings, 
 and contributed liberally out of her allowance 
 from Drury. 
 
 He studied her closely and came to the con- 
 clusion that something was preying on her mind. 
 He resolved to ask her about it, and, one rainy 
 night, when they were alone, he said to her: 
 
 "Mother, I am afraid there is something 
 troubling you. Are you worrying over some- 
 thing?" 
 
 She was startled, and looked at him curiously 
 for some time before replying. "What makes you 
 think so, Drury?" 
 
 "Well, I have noticed you sitting in brown 
 study so often, and your religious attitude gives 
 one the impression that there is an old sore in 
 your memory. I do not want to be inquisitive, 
 but I thought it might be something that you 
 could share with me. Perhaps I could help you." 
 
 "No, no. It is nothing. I am all right. Per- 
 haps I am dwelling too much on the past, but " 
 
 She stopped and sighed deeply. Then, she 
 got up and kissed his forehead, and left the room 
 without a word. The incident confirmed his con- 
 viction that there was a skeleton in the past of 
 which he knew nothing, and his mother seemed 
 to prefer that he should not know. He did not 
 like the mystery. If there was anything that had 
 taken place in the family to make her like that, 
 he ought to know it, and he would; he would
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 193 
 
 demand of her to tell him the first opportunity 
 that presented itself. 
 
 The next morning she was indisposed, and he 
 found she had a high fever. He prescribed for 
 her and told her she would be all right in a few 
 days. When she failed to improve according to 
 expectations, he sent for Dixie Miller to come 
 and nurse her. She steadily grew worse, and he 
 called Dr. McConnell into consultation. Her 
 symptoms indicated mental or nervous affection ; 
 but she refused to tell them whether there was 
 anything on her mind. Drury made an attempt 
 to secure her confidence in the matter, but she 
 broke down and sobbed so that he abandoned 
 the effort. He was sitting with her one day 
 while Dixie was at dinner, when she cried softly 
 for several minutes. He asked her what the 
 matter was that grieved her so, and she reached 
 for his hand and drew him down to her. 
 
 "O Drury," she said, "you will never know how 
 I have loved you ! I wish I could tell you my 
 trouble, but I can not. I promised Mr. Patter- 
 son I would never tell a living soul, and I must 
 keep my vow. It almost drives me crazy at 
 times. Promise me that you will always love 
 me." 
 
 "Why, Mother, dear, of course I will always 
 love you. I fear you are not yourself today. Try 
 to rest and get well; then, we will talk it over, 
 and you must tell me what it is. If it concerns 
 me, I ought to know it." 
 
 "Yes, it concerns you. Let me see. Where was 
 I? It was terrible, wasn't' it? And I caught hold
 
 194 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 of the rope, and just then you leaped into my 
 arms, and I Drury, where are you?" 
 
 "Here I am, Mother, darling. What is it you 
 are trying to tell me?" 
 
 "Tell you? I was not trying to tell you any- 
 thing. What did I say?" 
 
 Then, it dawned on him that she was delirious, 
 and the awful thought that her mind was almost 
 shattered struck him dumb. 
 
 "What was I saying, Drury?" 
 
 "Nothing, dear. You were just tired. Do you 
 want to go to sleep? There now. Just go to 
 sleep." 
 
 Dixie came to relieve him, and he turned sad- 
 ly from the room and went to his office. Then, 
 the duties of the afternoon claimed his attention, 
 and he almost forgot the thousand surmises the 
 few words she had spoken in her delirium had 
 sent through his mind. 
 
 Soon after he left, Mrs. Patterson aroused from 
 a stupor into which she had sunk, and looked 
 earnestly at Dixie for some time. Then she 
 spoke quietly. 
 
 "Why haven't you and Dr. Patterson mar- 
 ried?" 
 
 The question was so simple, and asked in such 
 an innocent way, that Dixie was shocked. Yet 
 she could not turn the suffering woman aside 
 with an evasive answer. 
 
 "Do you not know?" 
 
 "No. I have often wondered, and thought I 
 would ask Drury some time."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 195 
 
 "Well, we believe it would be unsafe for us to 
 marry under the circumstances." 
 
 "O I remember. He said something like that 
 to me the day Mr. Patterson died. He seemed tc 
 be afraid that he, he What do I want to say? 
 Afraid he O yes, afraid he would some day be a 
 drunkard. No, not just that. But he won't, and 
 I know why ; but I must not tell. John Patterson 
 said he would kill me if I told. I won't tell. I 
 won't tell." 
 
 "No, you must not tell, unless you want to 
 tell just me. Do you want to tell me?" 
 
 "I wish I could tell you. You have been so 
 good to me, and you are going to marry Drury. 
 Drury and his wife ought to know. But that 
 would be giving the whole thing away, and it 
 was wrong. I couldn't help it, could I ? He made 
 me do it. . Then, I got to loving the baby as 
 well as if he was my own, and I did not want 
 to give him up. He was so sweet, and he was 
 just the same age as my baby, too. No, I won't 
 tell. I musn't." 
 
 "That is right; you musn't tell anybody but 
 me," Dixie managed to say. 
 
 She was breathing hard, for she could gather 
 from what the semi-delirious woman had already 
 said that there was some mystery about to be un- 
 folded. Instinctively, she knew, also that it con- 
 cerned the parentage of the man she loved. Her 
 wits were active and she determined to use^them 
 to get at the truth this woman knew ; for, if she 
 did not learn the facts now, they might never 
 be known.
 
 196 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "And your baby died, did it?" she asked. 
 
 "Died? No, my baby was drowned. Didn't you 
 see it float down in the muddy water. I tried to 
 get it, but they wouldn't let me. And the fire 
 was so hot it blistered my face. Then I caught 
 hold of the rope, and there he came into my arms 
 just as if the angels put him there. His trunk 
 was carried ashore, too. Weren't the little 
 dresses pretty? And that one with the hand-em- 
 broidery was the one I had been watching all 
 the way up the river, and wishing I had it for 
 my baby. She was such a grand lady." 
 
 Suddenly she broke off and began sobbing, and 
 talking incoherently. Dixie tried to soothe her, 
 and get her to tell her more. She called for Dr. 
 Patterson over the telephone ; but he had gone on 
 a long trip to consult with another doctor; so 
 she renewed her efforts to get the whole story 
 from Mrs. Patterson. The fever was very high 
 and the patient was worse than she had ever 
 been. Dixie bathed her until the fever was cooled, 
 and then encouraged her to talk about her baby. 
 
 "So you took the trunk, and Drury, and kept 
 them instead of your baby, did you?" 
 
 "Who told you that? John Patterson would be 
 mad if he knew some one had told that. But I 
 didn't tell it, did I?" 
 
 "No, you did not tell it; I just know it. Where 
 did you go then?" 
 
 "We went to New Orleans, and then to Cali- 
 fornia; but she never did get my baby. Don't 
 let them get my b^by while I am gone." 
 
 "No, they shall not get your baby. You know
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 197 
 
 your baby was drowned, and you found Drury 
 and took him to be your baby. Was his mother 
 drowned ?" 
 
 "Yes, I went to the funeral, to be sure. His 
 father was there by the grave, and I was afraid 
 of him ; but John said he would not let him get 
 the baby. Then, we ran away." 
 
 "And the boat burned while you were on it." 
 
 "No, it was not a boat. Let me see all right, 
 John, I won't tell him. Please don't. Oh, save 
 me ! save me !" 
 
 Thus, bit by bit, the faithful nurse got the 
 story as far as the failing mind of the invalid 
 could tell it. Her lapses of memory became more 
 frequent, and her delirium soon became hysteria ; 
 that, in its turn, quickly developed mania. About 
 five o'clock, she tried to sit up in the bed, and 
 cried and talked incoherently. Finally, she point- 
 ed at an old desk, she had clung to through 
 the years, and cried : 
 
 "Bring me that paper." 
 
 "What paper?" asked Dixie. 
 
 "Long paper . . . drawer." 
 
 She fell back on the pillows in a stupor, and 
 Dixie was still working to restore her when 
 Drury came in. She sank rapidly, and never re- 
 gained consciousness. She murmured an occa- 
 sional word, but they could not catch what she 
 was saying. 
 
 Friends came in to watch with them, and Dixie 
 could not bring herself to tell Drury of the story 
 she had gathered while the woman who had 
 been a mother to him lay dying like that. It
 
 198 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 seemed to him that everything he had to cling 
 to was leaving him. He loved Dixie Miller, but 
 he could never marry her. He loved his pro- 
 fession, but he would never have a home again, 
 and his home had meant so much to him. Mrs. 
 Patterson had cared for him and been tender to 
 him, even though she had not been a helpful 
 companion during his years of study. 
 
 Dixie stole up-stairs and sat down in her 
 room to think it all out. If the story she had 
 gathered in fragments from the dying woman 
 'was true, Drury Patterson was not the child of 
 a drunkard. The nervous strain had been al- 
 most too much for her, and she threw herself 
 on the bed and cried. It was almost too good 
 to be true. Then, she thought of the paper Mrs. 
 Patterson had called for. However, it would be 
 time enough to look for that after she had told 
 Dr. Patterson what she had learned. 
 
 Lower and lower ebbed the tide of life in the 
 body of the woman who had given to Drury 
 Patterson the best that was in her. She went 
 quietly to sleep, and Drury could not help con- 
 trasting her death with that of her dissipated 
 husband. It was Jim Miller who lifted him from 
 beside the bed and led him out on the lawn, 
 where he consoled him with kind words and manly 
 sympathy. 
 
 "Mr. Miller," said the bereaved young man, 
 "you have been more of a father to me than my 
 own father was. He was kind in his way; but 
 he never did give me his confidence, nor allowed 
 me to give him mine. Mother was gentle and 
 kind to me always. She told me, often, that she
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 19s 
 
 wanted me to be a fine gentleman finer than 
 any of the Pattersons. She has always acted very 
 peculiarly about me, and, somehow, made me feel 
 that there was a mystery in the family that I 
 ought to know about. You are an old resident 
 here, and you ought to know something about 
 my family." 
 
 "But I do not, Drury. I knew your father be- 
 fore he went to Georgia to visit some of his rela- 
 tives ; but he did not return here until you were 
 about twelve years old. During that interval, 
 his parents died and left him the place where 
 you were raised. I am sure your supposed mys- 
 tery was only a fancy of your mother's." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right; I wish I knew." 
 
 Dr. McConnell was also a great mainstay to 
 his young partner in this dark hour. He cheered 
 him, and counseled him as a father. Mr. Harris, 
 too, showed his sympathy and friendship by ask- 
 ing the privilege of taking charge of affairs until 
 the funeral should be over. Drury accepted his 
 kind offer, and never regretted it. 
 
 The funeral was beautiful and the concourse 
 of people proved the popularity of the bereaved 
 son. The floral offerings were many and unique. 
 If such tokens can soften grief, Dr. Patterson 
 had balm enough to cure his wounded spirit very 
 soon. Marvin Harris sent the most expensive 
 design, a Gothic harp with the word, "Mother," 
 on the base. Dixie's offering was a simple 
 little bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley. Kind hands 
 had covered John Patterson's grave with flowers, 
 and Drury knew that his place in the hearts of 
 the people was secure.
 
 200 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 , CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "NOT UNTIL I FIND OUT." 
 
 It would have been a simple matter for Dixie 
 Miller to have told Drury Patterson of her exper- 
 ience with Mrs. Patterson if she could have done 
 so immediately. Circumstances prevented it, 
 and the longer the task was delayed, the more 
 difficult it became. She realized that it would not 
 do to disturb his mind with it while she was 
 alive, and, when the woman was dead, the nurse 
 could not bring herself to unfold a problematic 
 story that might intrude on the sacredness of the 
 funeral. Then, too, this woman had been a 
 mother to him; and he owed her all the respect 
 he was showing, for his bereavement was as real 
 as though she was his mother in fact. 
 
 The task gew more delicate with the lapse of 
 time, and the events that were happening so 
 rapidly. For several days after the funeral, Dr. 
 Patterson was out of town by the advice of Dr. 
 McConnell, and, when he returned, Dixie failed 
 to get him over the telephone for some reason. 
 At last, she wrote him a note, asking him to call 
 to see her at his earliest convenience. He came 
 to her father's home that night; but his conver- 
 sation was about his mother, and it was evident 
 he had placed her on a pedestal in his memory 
 from which Dixie could scarcely bring herself 
 to cast her. She was afraid, also, that he might 
 think she had a selfish motive in trying to dis- 
 prove his kinship to the Pattersons. Gradually,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 201 
 
 however, she turned the conversation to make her 
 duty easier of performance. 
 
 "Did your mother ever hint at a burden on her 
 mind that was crushing her and sapping her 
 health, Drury?" 
 
 "Yes, Dixie, and I have wanted to ask you if 
 she said anything to you during her illness that 
 would throw light on her trouble?" 
 
 "She talked a great deal, that last afternoon, 
 after you left. It was so incoherent, though, that 
 I scarcely know what to make of it. I am going 
 to ask you a serious question, Drury, and one 
 that may shock you ; but I feel it my duty to ask 
 it frankly: did it ever occur to you, or have you 
 ever had reason to doubt, that you were John 
 Patterson's child? Wait, dear." She took his 
 hand in both of hers. "You know how it frequent- 
 ly happens that a child dies in infancy, and the 
 parents adopt a child to take its place." 
 
 "What do you mean, Dixie? Did she tell you 
 that?" 
 
 "No, not just that. Please don't get excited. 
 She did not really tell me anything; but she talked 
 in her delirium, and, if what she said had any 
 foundation in fact, I gathered that she and Mr. 
 Patterson were on a boat with their baby; there 
 must have been some kind of an accident, and her 
 baby was drowned. She was rescued with you 
 in her arms, and they kidnapped you, and raised 
 you as their own baby. She said she saw the 
 lady your mother, I take it buried, and your 
 father was at the grave. Then, she and Mr. Pat- 
 terson went to New Orleans, and finally, to Cali-
 
 202 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 fornia. Where were you w,hen you can first 
 remember : 
 
 "O, I do not know. I remember long trips on 
 the cars, and one trip on a ship. It must have 
 been Cuba that we visited when I was five or 
 six years old. Then, we lived in Georgia when 
 we got the message that the grandparents were 
 dead ; but there was no mystery in that, for it 
 was the old home of the Pattersons. If I was 
 not John Patterson's child, nobody there knew 
 it, I am sure. Tell me all she said that day." 
 
 She told him all that had happened, and he 
 told her of the remarks Mrs. Patterson had made 
 to him the day Mr. Patterson died, and what she 
 had said in her delirium before Dixie had entered 
 the room. 
 
 "O, I had not thought of it before; but Father 
 said something like that when he way dying. 
 Let's see, what were his exact words? I have it ! 
 He said: 'I had to do it. All the devils were 
 pulling at me, and one stuck out his tongue and 
 cursed me. He made me do it. Go away, go 
 away, and let me get on the boat. There he is ! 
 He is going to choke me. There they all come. 
 Fire ! Fire !' Before that, he yelled at me to go 
 away, and said that I looked like 'he' did the 
 night of the fire. They would not both talk of a 
 'boat,' and 'fire,' and act so strangely, without 
 some experience that had impressed their sub- 
 conscious minds, causing them to do it." 
 
 "I have not told you her last words, yet. She 
 sat up in the bed and told me to bring her the 
 paper. L asked her what paper, and she replied
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 203 
 
 'long paper.' Then, there were several mumbled 
 words I could not understand. She pointed to 
 the desk, and ended with the word, 'drawer'. I 
 am sure there is a paper in that desk that will 
 throw light on the subject." 
 
 Drury leaped to his feet and took her arm, 
 pulling her up from her chair. 
 
 "Come, let us go to my cottage and hunt for 
 that paper, right now." 
 
 "That would not do, Drury. Can't you see 
 it would not do, tonight?" 
 
 "We will take your father along. Go ask him to 
 come here." 
 
 She flew to the sitting-room, and soon had her 
 father in the parlor, where they explained the 
 whole matter to him as quickly as possible. Jim 
 Miller was in the midst of his second campaign, 
 and he was very tired ; but he readily consented 
 to go with them to investigate this new-found 
 hope that would mean so much to his own child. 
 
 Dr. Patterson drove his machine furiously 
 through the road leading to town, and they were 
 soon in the room where Mrs. Patterson had 
 died. The desk was an old-fashioned affair that 
 she had told Drury was made by her father, who 
 was a cabinet-maker. The key was in the lock, 
 and Drury quickly opened the top, and the three 
 drawers. There were many papers and letters in 
 the drawers, and it took a long time to go 
 through them. None of them had anything to do 
 with the matter in hand, unless it was an occa- 
 sional reference in some letters from a corre- 
 spondent who wrote a very good hand, and signed
 
 804 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 his name, "Basil." They gave up the search, and 
 Drury was about to close the desk when he saw 
 an envelope that had something in it. It was 
 unsealed and plain. He took out the letter that 
 was enclosed, and read it. It began, "Dear 
 Brother," and referred to receiving his letter. 
 Then, it went on: "I feel my strength leaving 
 me, and sometimes my mind is all in a muddle. 
 I am glad I told you about my trouble, for it 
 seems that since John died I will go crazy think- 
 ing about it all. I am afraid I will die with this 
 thing haunting me down to the grave. I wish 
 I could tell Drury all about it, but I know he 
 would hate me, and that would be the worst pun- 
 ishment that could come to me. Oh, I just can't 
 think of his ever knowing that he is not my 
 child." 
 
 The letter fell from Drury's ringers, and he 
 staggered back to a chair, and dropped into it. 
 
 "My God!" he cried, "Who am I? A nameless 
 waif cast up by the muddy waters of the Mis- 
 sissippi. A man without a name. O, my good 
 friend Miller, what shall I do? It was bad 
 enough to be the child of a drunkard, but to be 
 a nameless man ; a thing of destiny, not knowing 
 whence I came. I have wept over the graves of 
 parents who were no parents. I loved them, and 
 now I discover them to be criminals, selfish 
 criminals, .who robbed a drowned mother of her 
 child, stole a babe away from its father, and be- 
 queathed me nothing except the name of a drunk- 
 ard, all to satisfy themselves, and substitute me 
 for the babe they lost that terrible day or night."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 205 
 
 Father and daughter tried to comfort him ; but 
 his grief must run its course. When Jim Miller 
 made some suggestions about following up the 
 slender clew that might lead to the discovery of 
 his parentage, he waved it aside. 
 
 "Leave me here for the night, dear friend. I 
 will come to you in the morning, if I may, and 
 will ask you to help me to formulate some plans. 
 For the present, I must think." 
 
 "Of course, you may come to me, and I will 
 not spare time nor money to help you learn the 
 truth. Your sun has not gone down, my boy. 
 The morning will bring you clearer vision, and 
 you may look back to this as the best day that 
 has ever come into your life." 
 
 Dixie put her arms about his neck and gave 
 him her lips. 
 
 "I believe in you, Drury, and, like Father, I am 
 sure you will some day thank God for finding 
 that letter. If it gives you the inheritance you 
 have longed for, it will be worth while, won't it, 
 dear?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, and that would mean that I could 
 have you, Dixie! O God, grant that it may be 
 so." 
 
 Jim Miller turned back to them and put his 
 arms about them. His tears mingled with theirs, 
 and, for some minutes, he stood with them thus. 
 
 "God bless you, my children. May your hopes 
 be realized in the very near future. Be brave, 
 my boy, and hope for the best until you know the 
 facts." He kissed them both, and left them for a 
 time.
 
 206 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Although the cup was bitter, there was so 
 much sweetness mingled with it that Drury was 
 glad that he had drunk it. Dixie Miller's love 
 and confidence were worth all that he suffered, 
 and her bright prophecies seemed so reasonable 
 that he took courage, and made her many prom- 
 ises. Through the following year, this night was 
 his guiding star, and the memory is sweet to 
 him today. 
 
 At their conference the next morning, it was 
 decided that Drury should go to Cromwell, 
 Georgia, and try to locate Mrs. Patterson's bro- 
 ther, Basil. She had mentioned this brother to 
 Drury, but he had never seen him. Indeed, he 
 had never met any of her relatives. His plan was 
 to visit the Pattersons and ask if they knew 
 where he could find her relatives, and what their 
 names were. He did not remember to have ever 
 heard what her maiden name was. On one oc- 
 casion, he had asked her, and she had told him 
 that there were reasons why she preferred not 
 to tell him about her people just then. She was 
 always fond of telling incidents in her early 
 home-life; but she never mentioned more than 
 the given names of her one sister and one 
 brother. 
 
 At Cromwell, Drury was received with joy. He 
 found the Pattersons better people than he had 
 expected, and they were well-to-do. It was hard 
 for him to tell the leading man among them a 
 younger brother of John's what his mission 
 was. He told this man, Dick Patterson, the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 207 
 
 whole story, however, and showed him the 
 letters he had brought with him. 
 
 "I am surprised beyond measure," said Mr. 
 Patterson, "Yet I am compelled to admit the 
 conclusions to which you have come. Brother 
 John married somewhere in Mississippi. We did 
 not know his wife's people; but she was al- 
 ways a ladylike woman, and we accepted her 
 without a question. Surely, she came of a good 
 family. I heard, too, of the accident to the boat; 
 but John would never talk about that more than 
 to say that he and his wife got off with you be- 
 fore there was any danger. He was a very 
 peculiar man, and none of us ever understood 
 him. It would be just like him to do as you 
 have reason to believe they did. I do not 
 remember the name of the boat, nor where the 
 accident took place ; somewhere below Memphis, 
 I think." 
 
 Drury returned to Memphis and went among 
 the river-men, asking them about such an acci- 
 dent. The laughed at him when he could not 
 give the name of the boat, nor the date of the 
 supposed accident. 
 
 "Why, sir," said an old captain, "there have 
 been so many accidents like that, you will have 
 a hard time finding out about it unless you know 
 the name of the boat, the date of the accident, or 
 the place where it happened." 
 
 He saw how futile his search would be with- 
 out more data than he had, and he was wasting 
 time. He was sitting in the hotel reading the 
 morning paper when his eye caught the adver-
 
 208 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 tisement of a detective agency. The very name, 
 "detective," was repulsive to him ; but he needed 
 some one to work out his problems who was ex- 
 pert in such matters, and he decided to call up 
 the manager and have him come to the hotel 
 for an interview. This he did, and was so im- 
 pressed with the man, and his dignity and quiet 
 manners, that he employed him then and there to 
 locate the man, Basil, and to get all the evidence 
 possible in regard to such a steamboat accident 
 as must have taken place twenty-five years be- 
 fore. 
 
 Jim Miller's disappointment was keen when 
 Drury returned to Tamalpias with such meager 
 results. He assured the young man, however, 
 that he acted wisely in employing competent 
 men to take up the quest. Not a word of all that 
 had transpired was known to any one in the 
 town except the Millers and Dr. McConnell. So Dr. 
 Patterson took up his work as though nothing 
 had happened. He and Dixie spent much time 
 in each other's company, and she so inspired and 
 cheered him that he worked harder and more ef- 
 fectively than he had ever done before. There 
 was a change taking place in her that she dis- 
 covered before he did, and she fought against 
 it, too. She was rebellious over the fate circum- 
 stances had consigned them to, and her rebel' 
 lion reached the point of expression one cool 
 evening as they were driving down the river 
 road. 
 
 "Drury, it was my father and I that decided 
 that we must never marry," she said, "but, now
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 209 
 
 that we know you are not the child of John Pat- 
 terson, why should we have to know just whose 
 child you are, before we do marry? We will 
 likely never know, and I think it is foolish to 
 deny ourselves the happiness in store for us 
 just because you are the victim of an accident 
 and a crime that deprives you of the name of 
 your real parents." 
 
 "You make it hard for me, Dixie. I am try- 
 ing to fight the battle like a real man, "and I 
 want you to help me." 
 
 "But isn't it an imaginary battle?" 
 
 "It may prove to be such; but, for the pres- 
 ent, it is real only God knows how real." 
 
 "It is cruel ! No other man and woman in the 
 world were ever called on to sacrifice so much for 
 so little. What do I care about the name you 
 are known by? You are as clean and good as 
 any man who walks the earth today, and better 
 than hundreds who can trace their ancestry 
 through countless generations. I love you, and 
 I will marry you tomorrow and take the conse- 
 quences." 
 
 "Is that in accordance with the promise you 
 made to your father?" 
 
 Her face went white as she recalled that 
 promise, but she rallied in a moment. 
 
 "That promise was made under the impression 
 that you were certainly the child of a drunkard. 
 Let me ask you, Drury : if it was to develop that 
 I am not the daughter of Senator Miller, would 
 you marry me, granted that your lineage was all 
 right?"
 
 210 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "That is an unfair question, Dixie. Women 
 are so much purer than men." 
 
 "Not by inheritance. If my father was a profli- 
 gate, my child would inherit his appetites and pas- 
 sions as easily through me as my brother's child 
 would through him." 
 
 "You have the best of that argument. But 
 listen, sweetheart, how are we to know but that I 
 have inherited worse than alcoholism from my 
 parents? Oh, how gladly I would lead you to 
 the altar tomorrow if I dared ; but I can not, I 
 can not. I would not present to your father a de- 
 formed child, nor cause another of his daughters 
 
 to go to the operating table Why, I would 
 
 rather die tonight than to run the risk. No, 
 Dixie, I love you too dearly to run the slightest 
 risk of destroying your health, or bringing sad- 
 ness into your life, by accepting what would be 
 the greatest joy that any man ever experienced 
 at a matrimonial altar. We have been true to 
 our ideals for a few years, let us go on until 
 Heaven smiles upon us, and gives us the right 
 to marry according to the teaching we have both 
 received and know to be correct." 
 
 "Forgive me, darling, for my rashness. I am 
 fully recovered, and see that you are right. That 
 is the reason I love you so. You are the grandest 
 and best man that lives. I am a better woman 
 for this hour with you. You are strong: so 
 strong, and I have derived strength from you." 
 
 "May I tell you now, dear, that you have en- 
 deared yourself to me more today than ever be- 
 fore ?"
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 211 
 
 "I cannot see how." 
 
 "By revealing your feminine nature. I was 
 beginning to think that you were almost too 
 practical in regard to our affairs. Sometimes, I 
 have looked on you as a sort of angel, too 
 good to feel as deeply as a normal woman; at 
 other times, you have seemed as practical as a 
 doctor needs be. It is I who must ask forgiveness." 
 
 "How noble you are! I am glad to be con- 
 quered like this by the man I love. If I revealed 
 feminine nature, you have shown that, with all 
 your gentleness, you are a man. And I can pay 
 you no higher compliment than to say that you 
 are on even a higher pinnacle than the Man at 
 the House of Healing. I have prayed that you 
 might be like him, and now you are, and more 
 than he is ; for who- knows what he would do 
 under such circumstances as you have had to 
 face?" 
 
 "There, girlie, you will turn my head pretty 
 soon, so I suspect we had better drive back out 
 of our paradise. We understand each other now, 
 and we shall give ourselves to our work with re- 
 newed vigor. Perhaps it will not be long until 
 the clouds will clear away, and we shall appreciate 
 the sunshine the more that we have been in the 
 gloom." 
 
 The detectives reported locating the family of 
 Mrs. Patterson. They were a fine family of 
 Mississippi people ; but they knew nothing of the 
 exchange of babies. Basil Warren had died re- 
 cently, and the others had not been in the confi-
 
 212 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 dence of Ellen, as they called Mrs. Patterson. 
 From these relatives, however, the detectives 
 had learned the date of her marriage to John 
 Patterson, and the date of the birth of their baby. 
 By this, they had figured the time of the sup- 
 posed accident, and had located three different 
 incidents, either of which might have been the 
 one referred to. One had been an excursion boat, 
 and the passengers had been required to register. 
 In the other two cases, the registers had been 
 lost. They were still at work on the case, and 
 hoped to find out more that would be of value to 
 the young physician. 
 
 Dr. Patterson locked up his cottage and took 
 rooms at the Don Pedro hotel. He could not 
 keep satisfactory servants, and he did not want 
 to rent the cottage o<ut; so he had the place 
 cared for by his negro yard-man. It was fre- 
 quently rumored that he and Dixie Miller were 
 married on certain occasions ; but the cottage 
 remained closed, and Dixie went back to the 
 House of Healing.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 213 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE SECOND CAMPAIGN. 
 
 While the events recorded in the preceding 
 chapters were happening, Jim Miller had been 
 pushing the matters pertaining to his revenge. 
 His first term in the State Senate did little more 
 than to give him the opportunity to get a 
 standing in politics, and to learn the rules of the 
 game. He was astonished to find that every- 
 thing was done sub rosa. Many of his colleagues 
 made speeches on the floor of the Senate for the 
 benefit of the galleries, and to be recorded in the 
 proceedings and the daily press, then, privately 
 agreed to the passage of the very bills they had 
 spoken against. 
 
 Before his first session was nearly finished, 
 Senator Miller decided that he must become a 
 prominent figure in the politics of the whole 
 State if he was to achieve anything worth while 
 in the way of his great purpose. After a close 
 study of the situation, and of the tactics of the 
 leaders, he decided on a policy of publicity and 
 frankness with the public through the press. He 
 knew this would mean a fight with the "ring" 
 from the Governor down ; but he was willing to 
 risk everything for the cause he was espousing, 
 and he had the pleasure of knowing also that, 
 if he did not win his personal battle, he would be 
 giving the public an education that would be 
 worth almost as much as the passage of +he
 
 214 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 laws he was advocating. The more he pondered 
 it, the more settled he became in the conviction 
 that Maury Tallman had proposed the best 
 remedy education through the public schools. 
 
 Seeing the announcement of the annual meet- 
 ing of the "Mothers' Congress," he attended its 
 sessions, and was delighted to know that the 
 public conscience was being aroused. He was 
 invited to speak on the question of Social Purity, 
 and the great throng of mothers and educators 
 gave him such applause that he grew more elo- 
 quent than he ever thought he could be. When 
 his address was finished, they gave him an ova- 
 tion that meant more than he then knew. 
 Thereafter, he was called on for addresses before 
 the Child Welfare League of America, The 
 National Health Society, The Purity League and 
 the Women's Christian Temperance Union. He 
 was in such demand for this kind of work that 
 he feared his political fences would suffer decay. 
 He was recompensed, however, by contact with 
 great men and women who were in the fight with 
 him, and he had access to a store of knowledge 
 and facts that would be valuable when he re- 
 turned to the fight in the Senate. 
 
 Jack Miller had returned from college and was 
 ready to take up some kind of work. He was 
 immediately attracted to the thing his father 
 was doing, and attended several of the conven- 
 tions and meetings his father addressed on the 
 subject of the Great Black Plague of America. 
 He wanted to take part in the fight in some way. 
 
 "All right, son," Senator Miller said, "I need
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 215 
 
 a secretary, and I shall be glad to have you serve 
 me in that capacity." 
 
 "But Father, I shall want to make some 
 speeches on this question myself. I am just 
 boiling over to speak right now. Self-praise is 
 half-scandal ; but I was considered quite a speaker 
 in college, and I won three medals in oratory. I 
 surely ought to be able to speak on such an inspir- 
 ing subject as this." 
 
 "Son, you do not know how you rejoice my 
 heart. I have wondered who would take up the 
 fight if I had to drop out before it is won. 
 Speak! Yes, you shall speak as much as you 
 wish, I will make engagements for you." 
 
 "I am glad you trust me, Father, and I promise 
 you I will fight the battle until it is won or I die." 
 
 Senator Miller's cup was full as he told his 
 wife of this interview. He felt the tingle of 
 victory in his veins. He had lost a daughter and 
 a son-in-law to the Monster; but he now had a 
 son and a daughter enlisted in his fight for re- 
 venge, and his wife and Jessie were helpers, also. 
 Victory seemed so much nearer than ever before, 
 and the wine in his cup was sweet. 
 
 There had been a spirit of rivalry between 
 Tamalpias and Kimberly ever since the former 
 had secured the railroad. Later, the county-seat 
 had been removed to Tamalpias, and later still, 
 saloons had been voted out of the beautiful 
 valley town. This state of affairs caused the 
 natural drifting of the better class of people to 
 Tamalpias, and of the drinking, rowdy element 
 to Kimberly. Bill Colton moved to Kimberly
 
 216 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 soon after his defeat by Jim Miller. He knew 
 that he was out of the running for all time; but 
 he hoped to be recognized as the Boss of the 
 district, and that he could name the man who 
 should make the second race aganst Senator 
 Miller. In this, he was encouraged by the same 
 source of supplies that had furnished the sinews 
 of war in the first campaign. By handing out a 
 little money here and there, he managed to re- 
 cruit his forces, and, by treating to drinks and 
 making barroom talks, he worked up much senti- 
 ment against Jim Miller. When the time seemed 
 propitious, he began to mention an ex-judge of 
 an adjoining county as the only man who could 
 beat the man who was trying to take away their 
 "personal liberty." None of the gangsters knew 
 that he had been directed by the "bureau" that 
 was furnishing him money to see to it that Judge 
 Barr was nominated and elected. They did not 
 care who was elected, so their enemy was de- 
 feated. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that the rivalry of towns 
 and counties was introduced in order to befog 
 the situation and divert the people from the real 
 issue. Jim Miller knew that prejudice and sec- 
 tional factions are hard to overcome, and he 
 made speeches in which he tried to convince his 
 hearers that his fight was not for any town or 
 county, but for all humanity. It remained for 
 Jack Miller, however, to plan the organization 
 of parents and teachers into clubs for the study 
 of social and educational problems. At first, the 
 men would have little to do with the clubs ; but,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 217 
 
 when their wives began to tell them of the papers 
 that were being read, and the books that were 
 being reviewed at the meetings, they became 
 interested. Within thirty days, the whole dis- 
 trict was aflame with the discussion of the very 
 problems Jim Miller proposed to solve by the 
 passage of certain laws. Once they got a glimpse 
 of the real facts, these clubs called for more 
 literature on the subject, and Jack saw that the 
 right kind of books and periodicals were placed 
 into the hands of the secretaries. So well ana 
 so quietly was the work performed that Bill 
 Colton's crowd did not understand what was 
 going on until the whole district was turning to 
 Senator Miller as the only logical candidate to 
 succeed himself. He was posted on the question, 
 and his ability had been recognized by every 
 national organization whose purpose was the up- 
 lift of the race. 
 
 Even the Senator, himself, did not recognize 
 the master-stroke Jack had made until the senti- 
 ment had reached the stage that made his elec- 
 tion by an overwhelming majority a foregone 
 conclusion. Others recognized it before he did, 
 and, less than a month before the primary elec- 
 tion, a committee waited on Jack and asked him 
 to become a candidate for the House of Repre- 
 sentatives. The proposition was so sudden, and 
 of such import, that he was confused for a little 
 time. He asked for a day in which to consider 
 it, and his request was granted. His father sug- 
 gested his youth ; but they remembered that 
 there were two members of the previous legis-
 
 218 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 lature who were younger. It was finally decided 
 that he would offer for the place, and the cam- 
 paign began at once. Not a new campaign, but 
 an intensified interest in the same one. 
 
 "Too much Miller," cried the opposition, 
 "Why, they will be wanting to send their women 
 to the Capitol next. We must not allow the 
 whole family to be in the same legislature. Let 
 the boy wait till the old man gets done running." 
 
 The people answered that this was a race for 
 principles, not for men ; these two men repre- 
 sented principles, and they were able to defend 
 those principles. What matter that they were 
 father and son? No others in the district and 
 county were candidates on this platform, and the 
 people proposed to give them a chance to pass 
 the laws they were advocating. No greater vic- 
 tory was ever won for suffering women and 
 children than that which Jim Miller and his 
 noble son, Jack, won over the forces backed by 
 the doctrine of "personal liberty." As before, 
 nomination meant election, and both men began 
 to get ready for the fight that would take place 
 in the State Capitol the following winter. 
 
 For their better equipment and information, 
 an organization of a local club was effected. Its 
 membership was carefully selected from among 
 the most influential and intelligent citizens. The 
 superintendent of the city schools, Mr. Thomp- 
 son, was chosen president, and the pastor of one 
 of the churches was made secretary. The meet- 
 ings were held weekly in the parlors of the San 
 Pedro hotel. Dr. McConnell, Mr. Harris, Mar-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 219 
 
 vin Harris, Dr. Patterson, and a number of 
 others united in the work. The secretary or- 
 dered circulars, booklets, and tracts from the 
 different societies and Boards of Health, and the 
 members were assigned subjects to write or 
 speak on. The mistakes in solving the question 
 were carefully noted, and the doubts of author- 
 ities in regard to this place and that were analyzed. 
 
 The gravest doubts expressed by students and 
 doctors, concerned Jim Miller's proposition that 
 every applicant for license to wed should procure 
 a certificate from two physicians attesting to his 
 physical fitness to marry. The reasons put for- 
 ward were carefully weighed, and debated at 
 length. It was held by some that great progress 
 had been made in the fight against tuberculosis 
 by publicity concerning the disease, and that 
 education was all that was needed. Jim replied 
 that his proposed law was intended to afford 
 relief until the masses could be educated. 
 
 It was Mr. Thompson who brought forward 
 the idea of making a course in sanitary and moral 
 prophylaxis, and the hygiene of sex, required by 
 law in the State Normal schools, and that no 
 certificates be granted to teachers who did not 
 obtain full credits in such courses. This propo- 
 sition was hailed with delight by the club as 
 being the best suggestion yet made. Jack Miller 
 told them of the address delivered to the students 
 of the University of Pennsylvania at the be- 
 ginning of each collegiate year by the physician 
 in charge, and that many educational institutions
 
 220 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 were giving lectures and short courses along 
 these lines on their own motion. 
 
 Many other measures were brought to the at- 
 tention of the club and discussed with profit. 
 Mr. Thompson suggested that the organization 
 be made permanent, and that they open it to 
 membership by application, admitting both sexes, 
 and widening the scope of its investigations and 
 discussions to all questions of public health and 
 morals. This was adopted, and a committee was 
 appointed to work out the details and submit a 
 constitution and by-laws, it being thoroughly 
 understood that the club could not be used to 
 further the personal interest of any person in a 
 political way. 
 
 Dixie Miller came home in time to become an 
 active member of the Tamalpias Health Club, 
 and she was a valuable addition. Her presence 
 removed the timidity of some who had hesitated 
 to join, and it was only a short time until the 
 membership numbered fifty. Dr. Patterson was 
 sent East to attend several National societies, 
 and to make further personal investigations of 
 these important subjects. He was glad to go, 
 as he was anxious to go deeper into the doctrine 
 of heredity, and this would give him the oppor- 
 tunity to interview Dr. Grady, the great alienist. 
 
 The work of the campaign and the discussions 
 in the Club had ripened Jack Miller into a fluent 
 speaker, who had the vigor of youth, coupled 
 with an exact knowledge of the matters he 
 wanted to bring before the law-making body of 
 his State. With the father working in the Senate
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 221 
 
 and the son in the House, their bills uniform, and 
 acting in unison, they would have a mighty ad- 
 vantage over their opponents. Both men could 
 scarcely wait for the convening of the legislature, 
 so anxious were they to get into the fray. 
 
 The secretary of the Club had his eyes opened 
 to the true state of affairs so thoroughly that he 
 resigned his charge and went out to lecture over 
 the State. He was surprised at the demand for 
 such lectures. Ministers were awakening to the 
 alarming situation, and churches were opened 
 to him everywhere. He made a series of three 
 addresses in each place ; one to men on the sub- 
 ject, "The Dignity of Manhood," one to women 
 or: "True Womanhood," and one to young people 
 on "Adolescence." Hundreds sought private in- 
 terviews with him, and other hundreds told him, 
 with tears running down their cheeks, that they 
 wished they might have heard his addresses a 
 few years earlier. 
 
 Jim Miller watched the minister's great work 
 with a glowing heart. He was enjoying his re- 
 venge already. He even came to think, some- 
 times, that perhaps the Providence that had 
 allowed the Monster to attack his home was a 
 blessing in disguise. If the death and blindness 
 of one or two could save the thousands, ought 
 he not bow in thanksgiving to God that he was 
 allowed to furnish the sacrifice for the altar of 
 human emancipation? He felt that he could 
 better understand the doctrine of the vicarious 
 atonement, and he was resigned to the loss of his 
 daughter as he never had been before. His wife
 
 222 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 fully shared this feeling, and Jessie found her- 
 self resigned to her loss in the same way. In- 
 deed, Mrs. Tallman made liberal gifts to assist 
 the minister to stay on the field, and was pleased 
 when he told her that she would share in the re- 
 ward that was to come as a result of the ad- 
 dresses. 
 
 That man is the greatest success who can get 
 the most people to work for him. Some men 
 fail because they try to do everything them- 
 selves. Others have the faculty of inspiring 
 other workers and enlisting agencies that make 
 their efforts successful. Jim Miller had the 
 ability thus to grip men and things to the fur- 
 therance of his plans. Once he got the attention 
 of an intelligent man, he was sure of that man's 
 help ; and there was no middle ground. He made 
 that very plain. Every man was on one side or 
 the other; to remain quiet was to assist the 
 Monster in his work of destruction. If other 
 men had built up a machine to advance their 
 personal ambitions and interests, he gathered a 
 host of men and women who hailed him as their 
 leader in the greatest fight ever made in America 
 for the crushing of a foe that had touched every 
 one of their homes and lives in some way or 
 another. If his son-in-law had felt like Judas on 
 the night of his self-destruction, Senator Miller 
 felt like that patriot, Patrick Henry, must have 
 felt when he uttered his immortal words : "Give 
 me liberty, or give me death !" And he was now 
 at a point where he could see emancipation of 
 womankind written large oit the horizon of the
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 223 
 
 future. Soon, the fetters should fall off the limbs 
 of more than half of the race, bound for thou- 
 sands of years by the shackles of lust and ig- 
 norance. 
 
 His wife watched his transformation from the 
 quiet stockman to the eloquent avenger and 
 publicist with increasing amazement. All his 
 latent forces and dormant energies were on fire. 
 Nor did his zeal produce fanaticism. That was 
 the best of it ; he fought intelligently, and defied 
 the world to find a weak place in his armor. Jack 
 was more subtle and academic ; but the father 
 was a towering general. Together, they made 
 a team that must win any battle in which they 
 engaged.
 
 224 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 JACK MILLER'S LOVE. 
 
 There is a general opinion abroad that a man 
 can not do any great, worthy thing while he is 
 making love to a woman. Why that idea should 
 obtain is more than logic or philosophy can re- 
 veal. It must have been born of the fact that 
 the first heart affair of adolescent youth is so all- 
 consuming that the fanciful pair forget time, 
 tide, food, and sleep. But a real, grown man 
 makes love best when he is too busy to be sickly 
 sentimental ; his love ennobles him and trans- 
 figures the most menial tasks into deeds of 
 valor; makes toil seem heroic, and lends unusual 
 competence to his use of plow, pen, or tennis- 
 racket. The woodsman feels like a Caesar, while 
 felling a tree, if only the eyes of his heart's desire 
 are looking on. The fireman never fights the 
 fire fiend so well as when his lady-love is lean- 
 ing from a window across the street, crying for 
 him to come out of the way of danger. The min- 
 ister and the politician, who have put away 
 childish things, deliver their messages with more 
 eloquence when they are heard by the pink ears 
 of a sympathetic woman. 
 
 Jack Miller was in love. Justa Harris, Mar- 
 vin's sister, wrought the havoc the first time 
 Jack saw her, after being away for a year. He 
 had not declared himself at the time ; but she 
 had interpreted his timid glances aright, and she 
 knew by the rapidity of her pulse that the sensa-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 225 
 
 tion was altogether pleasant on her part. She 
 was a decided brunette. Although no one called 
 her a beauty, she was attractive and graceful. 
 Her bright smile made up for any lack of "com- 
 plexion" and she knew how to dress to the best 
 advantage. 
 
 She was five years younger than Jack. That 
 accounted for his not having noticed her more 
 as they grew up. She had budded forth in the 
 one short year he was gone, and, during the past 
 two years, she had ripened into the most win- 
 some woman he had ever met. It did not take 
 long for them to come to an understanding; but 
 he was so busy, and the work before him so 
 heavy, that their courtship was a process of 
 months of little moments snatched from the 
 stress of campaign and preparation for the ses- 
 sion of the legislature that winter. 
 
 Dixie knew of the affection, and approved it 
 most heartily. Here was a chance for one of the 
 family to achieve the ambition of her parents in 
 perpetuation of the old Kentucky stock, and to 
 bless them with a posterity of which they might 
 well be proud. She was sure that Jack was 
 worthy, and there was no question about Justa. 
 Her father and mother were as fine people as had 
 ever lived in the Valley, and there had never 
 been any indication of disease or habit of a vicious 
 nature, with the single exception of Marvin's 
 declension, in any member of the Harris family. 
 Dixie reflected on her own sad lot, and wished 
 Jack and Justa the happiest possible results from 
 their mutual choice.
 
 226 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Jim Miller had a frank talk with Jack when 
 he became aware of the serious nature of his love 
 for Justa. 
 
 "My son," he said, during a little respite in 
 their work at the office, "I suspect you are think- 
 ing of offering marriage to Justa Harris?" 
 
 "Yes, father, I meant to talk it over with you, 
 and I am glad you mentioned it." 
 
 "Then, you have not proposed to her?" 
 
 "No, sir, I owed it to you to speak to you first." 
 
 "Why do you think you owed me that?" 
 
 "Well, because I should not like to take such 
 an important step in life without consulting you. 
 I am of age; but our interests are so identical 
 in the work we have undertaken, that I owe it 
 to you to ask your advice and consent to my mar- 
 riage with any woman. Also, I want the weight 
 of your judgment as to whether my choice is in- 
 telligent." 
 
 "I certainly appreciate this frankness, son. 
 You could claim your right to marry without con- 
 sulting me, and I do not know that I would 
 question it. It is true that our great work dou- 
 bles the bond between us, and I shall be glad to 
 give you any advice I may. Your last remark 
 raises the question of natural selection in mar- 
 riage; do you not believe in that?" 
 
 "No, sir, not altogether. I believe natural se- 
 lection through the passion of love is all right 
 when, and only when, reason and science make 
 marriage as rational and right to both persons 
 as it is desirable." 
 
 "Then, if you were to discover some physical
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 227 
 
 or mental defect in yourself or Justa, you would 
 not marry?" 
 
 "Never! That would be treason to the very 
 cause I am advocating. I am committed to the 
 logic and soundness of our doctrines personally, 
 as well as ethically and theoretically." 
 
 "Thank God ! I have not lived in vain, and my 
 revenge is sweeter than ever. Dixie has kept 
 her promise, though it has consigned her to the 
 purgatory of a childless existence. Now you 
 prove your sanity by the same test. This is 
 victory !" 
 
 "But you do not think there is such reason 
 that I ought not to marry Justa?" 
 
 "Only you can answer that, my boy. Are you 
 as pure as you expect her to be when you meet 
 her at Hymen's altar?" 
 
 Jack stood up and lifted his hand above his 
 head. "Look, father," he cried, "with my hand 
 lifted to Heaven, I declare unto you that not a 
 single muscle or nerve, not a vein or tissue of 
 my body has ever been stained with a drop of 
 alcohol nor an atom of nicotine; I am uncon- 
 scious of it if a single germ of any disease has 
 ever impinged on my flesh ; I have never con- 
 ducted myself toward any woman as I would 
 not have any man treat my good mother. Moth- 
 er's talk to me when Allie died has saved me 
 from all that. I am clean." 
 
 As his hand fell, the father sprang up and 
 grasped it in his own. 
 
 "I was sure it was so, Jack, but to hear it like 
 that from your lips makes me proud of my son.
 
 228 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Listen. I have carefully investigated my own 
 family, and your mother's as well, and I can 
 assure you that, so far as I am able to discover, 
 the blood is clean for four generations behind 
 you. There is not a case of drunkenness nor 
 inheritable disease to be found in your ancestry 
 that far back. It is up to you to keep the blood 
 clean down the generations to come. This you 
 can do by proper teaching; for, where one gen- 
 eration knows, they will pass the knowledge on 
 to the next. I almost wish I could live a thou- 
 sand years just to see what can be done in the 
 way of improving one family of the race. Tell 
 your children never to marry into a family that 
 has tainted blood." 
 
 "Thank you, father. But tell me what you think 
 of Justa's ancestry?" 
 
 "I will have a talk with Mr. Harris, if you 
 wish me to, and let you know." 
 
 "That will be the very thing, and how I appre- 
 ciate your kindness and help." 
 
 "I owe you that." 
 
 "Perhaps you had better wait a while about 
 talking to him, because I am not ready to marry 
 just yet. I want to get through with the session 
 of the legislature before I think of that; then, 
 I need to get through my study and be admitted 
 to the bar. I might do that after marrying; but 
 that can be settled after the session is over." 
 
 "Well, if anything should happen that I should 
 not be able to interview Mr. Harris, Dr. Mc- 
 Connell will serve you as well, or perhaps bet-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 229 
 
 ter than I could ; I have his promise of that kind 
 of service for any member of my family." 
 
 Drury Patterson returned from the East full 
 of enthusiasm and knowledge. He delighted the 
 Club with his graphic accounts of what was being 
 done in the universities and colleges of the North 
 and East, and by the different societies that had 
 been formed to fight the Great Black Plague. 
 He told them of the surprise of educators and 
 doctors when they heard of the real work being 
 done under Senator Miller's leadership. They 
 readily agreed to the measures the Tamalpias 
 Club was urging, and made further suggestions 
 that were acceptable to the Club. 
 
 It was quite a surprise to him to learn from 
 Dixie of Jack's love affair. He was pleased, how- 
 ever, and, for the first time, showed a little im- 
 patience over his own handicap and disability 
 to claim his sweetheart's hand in marriage. If 
 he ever had been jealous, he was jealous now. 
 He felt the call of his heart as she had felt the 
 call of hers. Manhood cried out for its mate. 
 They were in the same car, and they drove along 
 the same road where Dixie had voiced her rebel- 
 lion a short time before. 
 
 "Dixie," he cried, as he brought the car to a 
 sudden stop under the very trees where they had 
 sat before, and grasped her hands in his, "it is 
 the heaviest curse ever put on man. My detec- 
 tives have learned almost nothing. I am worse 
 than an Ishmaelite ; I am like the child-widows 
 of India. They are better off than I ; for, al- 
 though they are forbidden to marry, they may
 
 230 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 know who their parents are. I am a man, and I 
 feel the emotions, sentiments, ambitions, and 
 those things God has made essential to man- 
 hoodcompanionship, lordship over a home, that 
 kingship that is incomplete without a queen ; to 
 know that my life will be lived out in others 
 after me. Oh, it is this that love was designed 
 to accomplish and make perfect ! Yet, here I 
 am loving the most adorable woman in the world, 
 sure that my love is returned, and not daring to 
 press the cup I hold in my hands to my lips. 
 O my love, I am almost mad ! Why did I not 
 accept your proposition and risk the conse- 
 quences? Come on, let us go and get the license 
 and marry within the next hour. Will you, my 
 darling?" 
 
 "Drury! What are you saying! I never knew 
 you to give way to your feeling like this. Come, 
 be strong; for my sake, be strong." 
 
 "Strong? Haven't I been strong? My 
 strength has left me, though. I am a prisoner 
 in the hands of fate. May I not break the bars 
 that hold my spirit captive?" 
 
 "No. Justice will come and liberate you in 
 due time. I know it ; I am sure of it." 
 
 "You will not come with me? You refuse to 
 marry me because I am a nameless waif?" 
 
 "Don't, Drury ! You will kill me. You know 
 it is not that. Did I not prove it the other day 
 when I offered to fly in the face of all our prom- 
 ises, and the objections of my own relatives?" 
 
 She broke down, sobbing, and he was sobered 
 at once.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 231 
 
 "Forgive me, sweetheart. My God, what have 
 I said ! 
 
 "Dixie, look up, sweetheart. I was a simper- 
 Mig fool. Look up ; I will not lose my head again 
 it was only the pent-up anguish of years it is 
 over with now, and I am myself again." 
 
 "That is more like my big, brave man. I am 
 glad you love me like that, dear man, and I can 
 see now how strong you must have been when I 
 was weak." 
 
 "But it was your almost superhuman strength 
 that brought me to my senses. I am surprised 
 at this weakness, and I promise you it shall never 
 master me again." 
 
 "I am really glad you did give way a little bit, 
 Drury; for I was beginning to think that either 
 your love was too practical, or that you were 
 more than human in your control of it. We are 
 even, now, and each understands himself and 
 the other better than ever before." 
 
 "That is true. And I love you more, if pos- 
 sible." 
 
 Then they came back to the land of common 
 mortals, and returned to town, and to their work 
 for others. 
 
 Jack's talk with his father awakened his love 
 to unknown depths, and he found himself ideal- 
 izing its object, and planning his future with 
 regard to her and her happiness. He had never 
 allowed his attention to her, nor his thoughts ot 
 her to interfere with his work ; but he found it 
 hard to keep from thinking of his plans for the 
 future in which she figured so much. His deter-
 
 232 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 mination to delay his proposal to her until after 
 the meeting of the legislature was destroyed one 
 holiday. They had gone with a party on a long 
 tramp that took them to Indian Bluff. They 
 carried lunch baskets, and were to gather at the 
 Bluff for dinner. On their way, they gathered 
 pecans. The trees were loaded and the nuts were 
 just beginning to fall. Nearer town, boys and 
 men were thrashing them from the trees and 
 gathering them for market. Jack had a canvas 
 bag thrown over his shoulder, and he and Justa 
 worked vigorously until the bag got so heavy 
 that they hung it on a limb of a tree, and went 
 on to the Bluff in advance of the others. 
 
 Both had been there before; but it had never 
 been half as romantic as it was this beautiful fall 
 day. It is a strange fact that a romantic spot 
 has much to do with making the people who 
 visit it romantic. Many a romance is born of 
 environment rather than of inherent worth, taste, 
 or natural affinity. Their romance was already 
 in embryo, but it was the environment, where 
 so many others had culminated, that caused the 
 sturdy young man to throw his determination 
 to the winds. The very inscriptions on the soft 
 rock called for their names to be written with 
 the others. 
 
 "It looks such a foolish thing to do, this writ- 
 ing of names on this Bluff, unless one was sure 
 that the names would be coupled like that for 
 life," said Justa. "Look here for instance: 'John 
 Porter Allen and Lucile Altman 7-4-00.' She
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 238 
 
 married Alfred Pryor, and he is still an old 
 bachelor." 
 
 "But here is my sister Allie's name with that 
 of Maxwell Wright. Yes, and here is your 
 brother Marvin's and his wife's. Suppose I carve 
 ours here together." 
 
 She averted her gaze; but he could see the 
 blushes she was trying to hide. It was the 
 psychological moment. What real lover could 
 have resisted it? They were sitting on the very 
 edge of the Bluff, and it was impossible to move 
 quickly without endangering life and limb. He 
 slipped his arm around her waist, and drew her 
 to him. 
 
 "Justa," he said, "I did not intend to speak 
 to you until I returned from the meeting of the 
 legislature ; but I must speak now. I love you 
 have loved you ever since I came home three 
 years ago, and saw you suddenly sprung from a 
 schoolgirl into a most winsome and lovely young 
 lady. You have given me some reason to be- 
 lieve that my attention has not been hateful to 
 you. Tell me : may I hope to claim you for my 
 wife some day?" 
 
 She drew away from his embrace as gently as 
 she could, so that she might look him in the 
 face. She deliberately went over every feature, 
 and looked deep into his eyes. Her voice was 
 steady, but there was a suspicion of moisture 
 in her eyes as she said: 
 
 "I am not entirely surprised, Jack, I have 
 known by your actions and manner that you 
 cared for me ; therefore I have thought of the
 
 234 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 possibility of this moment. I did not think it 
 would come so soon ; but I must talk plainly 
 with you before I answer your questions. I have 
 watched the progress of your father's noble fight 
 for a worthy revenge for the injury done his 
 family. I am only a girl, but I have been in- 
 terested in the matter from the first. You have 
 voluntarily taken up the cause, and I am sure 
 you will fight just as hard as your father for 
 these principles. I love you, Jack. Oh, how I 
 love you ! I have watched you while you were 
 on the rostrum, and have called you my prince. 
 I have longed to tell you how proud I am of 
 yu. But, Jack, dear, you must remember that 
 the Monster came near ruining my brother's 
 home. Ah, you thought I did not know.^ No- 
 body told me, but I knew. And I want to know 
 that there are no barriers to our love. I must 
 know." 
 
 It was a long speech, and he knew she must 
 have thought over the matter of it many times 
 against this event. Admiration sparkled in his 
 eyes, and his smile told her that he was glad for 
 this frankness. 
 
 "You darling girl ! My lips have never 
 touched yours, but they must have a kiss from 
 them after they have spoken these brave words. 
 Come, answer my question with a kiss." 
 
 "But my simple expression does not satisfy 
 me." 
 
 "Ah, I forgot. Justa, I offer you a pure, clean 
 hand. Will you take it? It is as clean as any man 
 ever offered to a woman."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 235 
 
 "I believe it, Jack. By a woman's intuition, I 
 have known you are clean. And I am sure your 
 family is all that one could ask. But what about 
 my own? That is what I want to know." 
 
 "What! Do you believe for a moment that 
 there is a defect in the blood in your veins? I 
 do not believe it ! Come, Justa, give me that 
 kiss, and, with it, your answer that you will be 
 my wife." 
 
 "I will give you that if you will promise me 
 that you will demand of my father if he knows 
 any reason why we should not marry." 
 
 "Done." 
 
 They were warned of the approach of the rest 
 of their party, about an hour later, by the laugh- 
 ter and shouts of the jolly crowd. When the 
 others arrived, the lovers were very innocently 
 throwing rocks into the creek below ; but their 
 names were written together on the Bluff.
 
 236 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES. 
 
 Winter was just getting a good grip on the 
 Northern country, and, by sending frequent 
 chilling blasts across the Gulf States, was putting 
 forth desperate efforts to make the citizens of 
 the Southwest shiver in acknowledgment of 
 their acceptance of his rule for a few weeks. 
 Norther after norther swept over the prairies, 
 and these were alternated with cold rains and 
 dismal days, unrelieved by the sunshine of 
 which the natives boast so much. Stock was 
 suffering, and the fuel question was serious. Un- 
 accoustomed to such weather, the schoolrooms 
 were overheated, and the doors and windows 
 were kept closed in all dwellings and public 
 buildings. The people breathed only vitiated 
 air, and they shrank from the damp outdoor air 
 that would have given them health. Children 
 got their feet damp for want of heavy shoes, and 
 all the malaria that had been stored up in their 
 systems, by the bites of mosquitoes during the 
 fall, became active. No one ever knows what to 
 expect of malarial disorders. There is no other 
 disease as hard to prognosticate, and it renders 
 the system susceptible to the invasion of other 
 germs. Tamalpias escaped the epidemic for the 
 simple reason that the town was in an altitude 
 not infested by mosquitoes, and the atmosphere 
 was dry and full of oxygen. But other towns 
 were filled with sick people, and nurses were in
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 237 
 
 demand. Dixie offered her services under the 
 direction of the House of Healing, and was im- 
 mediately accepted and detailed to duty in a 
 City Hospital. 
 
 Almost without the usual warning of a few ad- 
 vance cases, that dread disease, cerebro-spinal 
 meningitis, became prevalent. The large per- 
 centage of fatalities threw the city into a panic, 
 and neighboring towns and cities began to quar- 
 antine against them. Doctors offered their ser- 
 vices, and Dr. Drury Patterson was among the 
 first to reach the afflicted city and enlist in the 
 work of sanitation and treatment. iThe scourge 
 increased daily, and other towns and cities began 
 to report cases. Within a month, scores of places 
 were under quarantine, and the whole State became 
 alarmed. 
 
 It was at this juncture that the noted Dr. 
 Stephen, who had been studying this particular 
 disease for years, came on the scene to direct 
 the heroic campaign for the stamping out of the 
 plague. Dr. Patterson became such an apt pupil 
 of the expert that he was soon sent to direct the 
 fight in other places. For weeks, he worked 
 almost day and night. He was warned to rest 
 and recuperate; but he laughed at the, alarm of 
 friends and associates. The need for his services 
 was so imperative, and the ravages of the disease 
 so great, and so rapid, that he could not rest 
 when he went to bed. Twice, he was tempted, as 
 he had never been tempted before, to take some 
 kind of drug to sustain him against his outrage 
 of nature. Once, an older doctor took a dose of 
 cocaine in his presence, and he noted the almost
 
 238 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 immediate effect. His tired brain refused to 
 reason out the right or wrong of such an act, and 
 his need of rest and sleep was so desperate that 
 he went behind a prescription-case and poured 
 a dose from a bottle. As he turned to the hydrant 
 and lifted his hand to his mouth, he happened 
 to catch his reflection in a mirror on the wall. 
 Like a flash, his brain awakened, and he stood 
 aghast. What was this he was about to do! 
 
 "Fool," he cried, "it has come at last! The 
 awful temptation that I have feared so long has 
 come at last. I might have know it, though. 
 What am I but a 'river-rat' picked up out of the 
 muddy waters of the Mississippi? I might as 
 well take it and go to the Devil. I'll likely go, 
 anyway." 
 
 He lifted his hand again, and, again, he saw 
 his image in the glass. This time, his manhood 
 awakened and joined his aroused brain. Then, 
 his will-power buckled on its armor, and called 
 on his manhood to assert itself. Memory, too, 
 came on the scene. Dixie Miller believed in him ; 
 she loved him, and, by that, had a claim on him. 
 Her words, "Be strong!" echoed in his ears, and 
 he threw the drug into the lavatory, and turned 
 from the place. The victory gave him strength 
 and self-respect, and he resolved to go to his 
 hotel and get the needed rest. He told the clerk 
 that he was not to be called for any purpose 
 until twelve o'clock the next day. After a re- 
 freshing bath, and a few moments of silent medi- 
 tation, he went to bed. 
 
 It was nearly noon when he awakened the next
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 239 
 
 day. He arose immediately and took a plunge- 
 bath in cold water. Then, he dressed hurriedly, 
 and went down to the office. He refused his 
 mail and ordered a taxicab for a spin before 
 luncheon. As the driver was given no instruc- 
 tions but to "go" for an hour, he drove through 
 parks and beautiful residential sections. But 
 Dr. Patterson was not interested in the scenery. 
 He was examining himself. In the light of a 
 new day, and with his body and mind refreshed, 
 he could not see why he had been so tempted. 
 If he had taken the drug, he would have hated 
 himself forever. He knew he could never have 
 looked in Dixie's face again, and he wondered if 
 the remorse would have driven him to suicide. 
 He shuddered at the very word. Then, the 
 future loomed up before him. There were other 
 days coming. Would he be tempted again, and, 
 if so, would he be weaker than he had been on 
 this occasion ? Would there be a mirror to arrest 
 his hand? His thoughts had traveled thus far 
 when the taxicab stopped and he was at the 
 hotel door. As he entered the dining-room, he 
 saw Dixie standing there with mischievous 
 smiles on her beautiful face. 
 
 "My, but you are a serious doctor! Run right 
 over your friends and never see them. Come, 
 give an account of yourself." 
 
 "Dixie! What on earth brings you here?" 
 
 "Haven't I the right to go where I please?" 
 she laughed, mockingly. 
 
 "But it is so unexpected."
 
 240 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Unexpected! Did you not get my letter this 
 morning?" 
 
 "No. I refused my mail until I should take a 
 drive." 
 
 "So that is it. I was just a little disappointed 
 that you did not meet me at the station. But, 
 go in and lunch ; then, we shall have time to 
 talk. I will meet you in the parlor in half an 
 hour." 
 
 The epidemic had abated in the first city, and 
 Dixie, relieved from her duty there, had written 
 Drury that she was coming to offer her services 
 in the hospital where he was worikng. She 
 knew that he was overworked, and she hoped to 
 be able to persuade him to rest. 
 
 When he came into the parlor, she was waiting 
 for him. 
 
 "Come," she said, "give an account of your- 
 self. I come to insist that you stop and rest, 
 and, when I ask about you, the clerk tells me 
 that you went to your room in the middle of the 
 afternoon yesterday, and gave instructions that 
 you were not to be called until noon today. 
 Then, a bellboy appears, and says that you went 
 out for a drive before lunch. I see that my mis- 
 sion is useless so far as that part is concerned; 
 but, perhaps, I can be of service to somebody 
 who really needs me." 
 
 "Somebody who really needs you? That's I." 
 
 "You do not look half as needy as I expected 
 to find you." 
 
 "But I am more needy than I look. Dixie, I
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 241 
 
 can not conceal my story from you. I must tell 
 you I have fallen." 
 
 "Fallen! Drury, what in the name of mercy 
 do you mean? Tell me, quickly!" There was 
 anguish and alarm in her voice, and she put 
 her hand on his shoulder and looked into his 
 downcast eyes. 
 
 "Not into sin, thank God, but into temptation. 
 And you know what that means to me." 
 
 "Oh, how you relieve me! How dare you 
 frighten me that way? But tell me, what was 
 the temptation?" 
 
 "I believe I would tell you the innermost 
 secrets of my soul, Dixie. I can not imagine 
 myself keeping things from you. But this is so 
 humiliating to me. Be as kind and merciful as 
 you can." 
 
 Then, he told her all ; and made it as bad as 
 he could. Even in the telling of it, he saw that 
 it was not quite as bad as he had imagined it. 
 
 "So, you see," he finished, "I have some weak- 
 ness, inherited or otherwise. And that is the 
 thing that I have hoped would not appear in my 
 life." 
 
 "Why, you silly man. Did you expect to be 
 able to disobey the laws of nature until your 
 brain and nerves ceased to perform their func- 
 tions, and then, because a little respite was sug- 
 gested to you by the habit of another, call it a 
 temptation caused by inherent desire? Did you 
 really desire the drug, or the effect it would 
 produce?" 
 
 "No, neither. My body had refused to obey
 
 242 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 my will, and I would have welcomed a shock of 
 electricity as much as the drug, if it would have 
 given me back my wasted strength. I simply 
 wanted to go on with my work." 
 
 "O my dear, brave, strong man, can't you see 
 that it was inherent manhood and will that saved 
 you, instead of inherent weakness that tempted 
 you ?" 
 
 "That is a charitable view to take of it." 
 
 "No, it isn't. It is the sensible view the right 
 view. It you could dash that drug from your 
 lips when your mind and body were so thor- 
 oughly worn out, you would never think of 
 taking it when you were in a normal condition." 
 
 "That is true. What a darling girl you are ! 
 And I know now how much I really needed you 
 this morning, surely it was a kind Providence 
 that sent you to me." 
 
 "I am glad I came, if only to get you to see 
 yourself in the proper light." 
 
 "But it was the memory of you and your words 
 that helped me to assert myself in that trying 
 moment." 
 
 Never had Dixie longed to have the right to be 
 with him always, and help him in all his great 
 problems, and lean on his strong arms for life, 
 as she did that day. He was so pure and noble, 
 and she understood him so well that her love 
 for him took on a maternal quality. The sanc- 
 tity of their affection was forever sealed, and 
 they both recognized that each really needed 
 the other. 
 
 "Drury I have had a strange presentiment for
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 243 
 
 several days : I am as sure you are going to find 
 your parents, and that they are worthy people, 
 as I am of your presence in this room. I can not 
 tell you how I know it ; I haven't dreamed it, nor 
 have I been to a mystic : but I am sure we are 
 to be allowed to have a home all our own, with- 
 out violating the principles my father is fighting 
 for." 
 
 "I wish I was as hopeful. I can not see how 
 it is to come about. I have discharged the detec- 
 tives, and there is nothing but chance to unveil 
 the past and give me my birthright. God grant 
 that you may be correct, for this life is wearing 
 my heart away." 
 
 A messenger boy came to them with an urgent 
 call for Dr. Patterson to come to the hospital, 
 and he told Dixie he would see her that evening, 
 and hurried away. 
 
 Dixie was needed, and, the next day, she took 
 up her duties in the hospital. For three weeks, 
 they worked, and fought back the disease until 
 at last it was under complete control. Dr. Pat- 
 terson's name was printed in the city papers in 
 large black letters, and the citizens petitioned 
 him to locate among them. They offered to build 
 him a sanitarium if he would accept it, and he 
 told them he would take the matter under ad- 
 visement. Dixie, also, was assured of employ- 
 ment in the very best homes in the city at any 
 price she might ask for her services. No one sus- 
 pected the attachment of doctor and nurse; for 
 they were too sensible to show their holy affec- 
 tions for each other to a gainsaying world.
 
 244 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Drury and Dixie were still in their hospital 
 work when Dixie received a letter from her moth- 
 er, saying that Maxwell Wright was married 
 again. It was a shock to the family, because, as 
 the reader knows, Jim Miller had written to the 
 young man, and told him the facts in the case. 
 Maxwell had not believed him, however, and had 
 delayed his interview with Dr. Duncan until he 
 had become enamored of another woman ; and 
 everybody knows that Cupid is blind. We do 
 not believe much that we do not want to believe. 
 Maxwell had been married for three months 
 when his mother brought herself to the task of 
 breaking the news to the Millers. 
 
 Jessie had several admirers, and one splendid 
 man had offered her his hand in marriage; but 
 she was fully decided that she would never marry. 
 Her one sad experience had proved so dis- 
 appointing, and her health was not such as she 
 knew a wife's should be ; so she declined the of- 
 fer and was happy in the education of her blind 
 child and what she could do to help her father 
 and brother to make such sorrows as hers fewer. 
 Her grief over the news of Maxwell's marriage 
 was deep. She knew that the new wife was lay- 
 ing herself liable to all that Allie had undergone, 
 and perhaps worse. Time alone would tell. 
 
 Dr. McConnell wrote Maxwell a very plain 
 letter in which he warned him of the possible 
 consequences, and how best to guard his wife 
 from the same troubles that had taken Allie to 
 an early grave. His letter was replied to with 
 a curt note that, when his advice was wanted, 
 it would be called for. The Tamalpias Club put
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 245 
 
 Maxwell Wright's name on their mailing list, 
 and kept him supplied with literature on the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 The Christmas holidays found Dixie and Dr. 
 Patterson at home. The minister came in for a 
 few days' rest, and the Club had its final session 
 of the year with all the members present. They 
 had done an immense amount of work during 
 the six months of the Club's existence; Marvin 
 Harris was elected president for the ensuing 
 year. He had become one of the most enthusi- 
 astic and effective members, and Jim Miller was 
 glad to have him take his place as the active head 
 of the local organization. Professor Thompson 
 was made secretary, and the membership was 
 increased by the addition of the two doctors who 
 had held aloof until this time. 
 
 The Club gave a banquet on New Year's 
 night, and Jessie Tallman presented the minister 
 with a check for a large amount in token of her 
 appreciation of the good work he had done on 
 the lecture platform. The Club gave Jack Miller 
 a gold watch, suitably engraved, and Jim Miller 
 was deeply embarrassed by a speech delivered 
 by Professor Thompson, and the presentation of 
 a loving cup, on which were engraved these 
 words : 
 
 "To Our Friend 
 And Heroic Leader. 
 SENATOR JAMES R. MILLER. 
 With the Love and Esteem of every 
 Member of the Tamalpias Health Club, 
 
 "New wine in old bottles" 
 "Drink hereof and succeed."
 
 246 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 When he had time to compose himself and 
 get his voice, Senator Miller replied to the speech 
 of presentation. The one hundred people pres- 
 ent had heard him speak on many occasions ; 
 but they had never heard him speak as he did 
 then. He opened his heart to them, and told 
 them that his fight was both selfish, and unself- 
 ish ; selfish in the fact that he had undertaken it 
 as a means of revenge for the life of his child 
 and the sorrows of her twin ; unselfish in that it 
 was for the whole race, and not for those he 
 loved, alone. At the close of his impassioned 
 speech, he took up the cup and held it before his 
 face. 
 
 "O Cup," he cried, "the Master prayed that a 
 cup might pass from Him. I once prayed that 
 same prayer; but, like the Master, I drank my 
 cup to the dregs, and it was a bitter cup few 
 know how bitter. Tonight I press you to my 
 lips and drink down the draught of love and confi- 
 dence you contain, and, in the dregs at your bot- 
 tom, I find the assurance that the vengeance I 
 have planned will be wrought even though I 
 die tomorrow. As I sip the sparkling wine of 
 Love that brims you, it becomes a tonic to my 
 ambition, a balm to my wounded soul, a coal of 
 fire to my lips, making them eloquent, a foun- 
 tain of youth that promises me vigor for years 
 yet unborn in the womb of eternity, a spirit of 
 prophecy that unfolds a future free from our 
 social plague. I take thee to my lips in dedica- 
 tion anew to the emancipation of the impris- 
 oned, the education of the ignorant, and the os-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 247 
 
 tracism of the criminal. Again, I drink of thee. 
 This time, it is the strong wine of confidence, 
 settling on the lees. Tis not confidence in me, 
 the man ; but confidence, in the righteousness of 
 the cause I represent. I may fail; yea, I fail 
 every day. I may be unworthy ; I am. But the 
 cause shall never fail. It is ever worthy. Again, 
 I lift you, O Cup, and see Esteem on your label. 
 That, I hang about the neck of the steed, Purpose, 
 on which I ride into the thick of the fray. And 
 when the fight is done, when I come to hand over 
 the sword to another, may there still be another 
 drop of wine left in you to cheer me across the 
 river into the great Unknown the drop of con- 
 solation, of duty well done. Then my revenge 
 will be complete. Friends, all, I thank you." 
 
 If there had been thoughts of lightness and folly, 
 they were dissipated. With his wife and children 
 about him, with his hand hurting from the many 
 grasps of friends, with words of praise in his 
 ears and a great joy in his heart, Senator Miller 
 drove home from the last meeting of the Club 
 he would attend until the great arm of the law 
 should be invoked to assist education in the de- 
 struction of the greatest evil that has ever be- 
 fallen the human race.
 
 248 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE CYCLONE. 
 
 That graphic sentence in the story of Job is 
 the tersest account of a cyclone ever written: 
 "While thy sons and thy daughters were eating 
 and drinking wine in the eldest brother's house, 
 there came a great wind from the wilderness 
 and smote the four corners of the house, and it 
 fell upon the young men and they are dead, yea 
 and the servants also, and I escaped alone to tell 
 thee." It is easy for one who has seen a cyclone 
 to imagine the darkness, the terror, the sudden 
 destruction, and the final downpour of rain when 
 that oriental palace was destroyed by the Prince 
 of the power of the air who was trying to move the 
 patriarch to curse God to his face. 
 
 The cyclone season in the Southwest is sup- 
 posed to begin with the March equinox ; but his- 
 tory proves that one may sweep over the coun- 
 try any time from January to July ; and the fur- 
 ther removed from the cyclone period, the more 
 devastating the storm proves. Every home has 
 its "cyclone cellar" or "storm house," built on 
 the south side or west side of the dwelling, so 
 that the family can get into the underground 
 refuge when the sorm is coming, and there will 
 be no danger of the house falling on the door of 
 the place of retreat, because the cyclones always 
 come from the southwest. Most people in that 
 section would as much think of doing without a 
 well of water as without a storm-house.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 249 
 
 Tamalpias was out of the general track of cy- 
 clones and storms, and many scoffed at the idea 
 of building- storm-houses. A few, however, who 
 had lived where the storm is no respector of per- 
 sons, had large cellars walled with concrete. As 
 year after year passed by and no storm had ever 
 come that gave them just cause to retire to such 
 a covert, they became convinced that their labor 
 and expense had been for naught. 
 
 The winter had been very mild and open, and 
 the range grass was already springing up. Early 
 gardens were yielding vegetables, and crops 
 were being planted. One or two pioneers shook 
 their heads and said: "This he-er spell is 
 nawthin' but a weather breeder. I 'member it 
 was jes' sich a spell when that ar twister cum 
 along 'at blowed Jake Ming's house and barn in- 
 ter kingdom come over in Grayson County, an' 
 'en went on an' blowed Sidell offen the map. I 
 wouldn't be surprised if the Valley don't get a 
 'shakin' up afore Easter." 
 
 It was the second day of March, and the warm, 
 bright morning had induced the housewives to 
 put the bedding and spring clothes out to sun. 
 Houses were open, chickens were cackling about 
 the barns, men were in the fields, children were 
 at school, and everything seemed tranquil and 
 reminded Doctor McConnell of his favorite 
 poem, "Peaceful Valley." About ten o'clock, 
 the air became murky, making the sun look red 
 like a ball of fire. A deathly stillness fell on all 
 nature, and the noisy hens stopped their sing- 
 ing and cackling, and huddled near their shelter.
 
 250 JIM MILLEK'S GIRLS 
 
 Even the negroes, singing at their work, became 
 mute. Only an occasional whinny from a mare, 
 separated from her colt, broke the stillness. The 
 cows came back from the pastures, and the mur- 
 kiness increased until the sun was entirely hid- 
 den. The temperature increased, and those who 
 were watching the change taking place, freely 
 prophesied a "norther." Greedy farmers hung 
 tc their plows, anxious to get the most advantage 
 of the season. Women left their bedding and 
 clothes out, thinking it would be a "dry" norther, 
 if one came at all, and the school-teachers only 
 scowled at the gloom that made their rooms 
 almost too dark for the pupils to read. 
 
 Dr. Patterson, driving his car like the wind, 
 was going to see a patient living twenty miles 
 north of Tamalpias. He reached a high ridge 
 from which he could see the country for many 
 miles in three directions, and was appalled at the 
 sight that caught his eye. Due south of his po- 
 sition, he could see the great funnel-shaped cloud 
 that was slowly moving in the direction of the 
 quiet valley. Stopping his car, he watched the 
 demon-cloud tearing its way through farms and 
 mesquite bushes. As he looked, he located a 
 ranch-house on Senator Miller's ranch, and, 
 within a moment, it was snatched up, torn to 
 splinters, and was flying in the ever-widening 
 circles of the upper part of that swirling vacuum. 
 
 The cyclone was within two miles of Tamal- 
 pias, and Dr. Patterson, not heeding the admo- 
 nition of judgment, turned his machine and was 
 soon racing back. He knew that he would be
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 251 
 
 too late to give warning; but he also reasoned 
 that death and destruction would be left in the 
 path of the storm, and he would be needed. The 
 hills that enclosed the valley made the last three 
 miles of his return very slow. The suction, 
 caused by the passing storm, almost turned .his 
 machine over; but he drove on, impelled by the 
 thought that lives were being crushed out right 
 before him. As he came into the valley, a mile 
 north of town, he was disconcerted by the sight 
 he saw, and lost control of the automobile. 
 
 Darkness like that of Egypt was being pushed 
 close to the ground in front of the vortex and 
 about it, while following its track, the gray rain- 
 clouds came on like somber mourners dropping 
 their tears on the wreckage of lives and prop- 
 erty, ^he roar was deafening, and the wind was 
 rushing toward the center of the disturbance 
 with such force that the onlooker had to take 
 shelter behind a boulder that jutted out from the 
 hill. The terror was augmented by the incess- 
 ant display of lightning and the sharp claps of 
 thunder. 
 
 As Dr. Patterson felt his machine go into the 
 bank, he cut off the power, and thus escaped 
 being seriously hurt, although the machine was 
 badly wrecked. He did not wait to examine it ; 
 for the wind was almost whipping the clothes 
 from his body. Hastily taking refuge behind the 
 friendly boulder, he watched the cloud take a 
 sudden downward swoop and strike the outskirts 
 of Tamalpias. The darkness now blotted out all 
 except the outlines of the tallest buildings; but
 
 252 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 he could tell that the track lay west of Ke busi- 
 ness section and that the hungry demon would 
 take its heaviest toll from the best residential 
 portion, and the public school-buildings. The 
 churches, too, would be struck. He shivered as 
 he thought of the death-list and the wrecked 
 homes of the people. Even as he shivered, he 
 saw the flying timbers and roofs come up out of 
 the darkness like timbers and boats from a sunk- 
 en ship, and then be caught by the upper cur- 
 rents and shoot through space in the general di- 
 rection of the storm. Distinctly, he saw the spire 
 and part of the roof of the Methodist church 
 lifted, as a child might lift the lid from a "Noah's 
 Ark," and go hurtling after the cabins of the 
 negro section first struck. Then, he saw a who!e 
 house rise and ride for a few moments before it 
 went to pieces like a soap-bubble. On and on 
 went the death-dealing storm, mowing every- 
 thing in its path as wheat falls before the 
 mowing-machine. 
 
 Drury found himself standing in the torrents 
 of rain, torn between his grief over the disaster, 
 his thankfkulness that the Miller house, was evi- 
 dently safe, and his impotence to get to town im- 
 mediately and be of service in taking care of the 
 wounded. He found his way to the wrecked 
 car, and got his uninjured case. Then, he began 
 to run through the mud, rain, and wind. The 
 creek lay between him and his destination ; but it 
 was not yet swollen so much that he could not 
 wade it. Beyond the creek, the road had been 
 built of crushed rock, and his speed increased.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 253 
 
 He was among the first to reach the strip of 
 wreckage, and was quick to note that the school- ' 
 building had barely escaped. With a muttered 
 thanksgiving, he ran on until he came to a large 
 residence that had collapsed and was pitched 
 over the premises in a distorted pile. The trees 
 were either stripped or blown down ; but most of 
 the floor of the residence was still intact. He 
 saw a bed still standing on the floor, and, run- 
 ning, to it, found the covers undisturbed. He 
 had waited at this very bedside the night before 
 until a young life had been put into the hands of 
 a pair of happy young parents. He had uncanny 
 feelings as he approached it now ; for he was sure 
 that mother and baby must be dead. As he 
 reached out his hand to lay back the cover, the 
 quilt was pushed aside, and the pale, but smiling 
 face of the mother appeared. On her arm lay 
 the baby, sleeping, protected from the rain by the 
 pillow that had been beneath its mother's head. 
 Drury drew back awestruck; but the mother 
 laughed nervously, and said: 
 
 "O Doctor, I prayed to God, and He heard me 
 and delivered me and my child from the 'de- 
 struction that wasteth at noonday,' according to 
 His promise." 
 
 "Where is your husband?" 
 
 "He picked up my invalid mother and carried 
 her to the storm-house. I hope he got there safe. 
 The house must have fallen on the door, so he 
 could not come back to me." 
 
 "No, the house fell the other way ; but a tree
 
 254 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 has fallen on the storm-house, and I am sure 
 they are safe. I will see." 
 
 He called through the air-stack, and found that 
 both were safe in the shelter; he assured the hus- 
 band of the safety of his wife and child, and has- 
 tened to get help to release the prisoners, and to 
 carry the helpless to shelter. 
 
 At the church-site, he found several persons 
 who had been on their way home, and had taken 
 shelter there. The building, a substantial frame, 
 had been blown from its foundation, and the walls 
 had fallen when the roof had been blown off. 
 Part of the refugees had perished, and others 
 were wounded and maimed. The stone church 
 was a block away, and had been just outside the 
 track of the cyclone. It was thrown open for use as 
 an emergency hospital, and there they carried the 
 injured and the dead. Boards and mattresses 
 were laid on top of the pews along the aisles, and 
 doctors and women bound up cuts and bruises ; 
 held dying heads, amputated crushed limbs, and 
 restored those who had been shocked into 
 blessed unconsciousness. 
 
 Dixie was on the scene as quickly as she could 
 get her father's car out of the garage and run it 
 the short mile that intervened between the subur- 
 ban home and the devastated portion of the 
 beautiful city-of-the-valley. She was the only 
 trained nurse there, and there were not doctors 
 enough to take care of the many injured ; so she 
 put her training and observation into practice, 
 and was soon sewing up cuts, setting broken 
 bones, and stanching bleeding wounds like a real
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 255 
 
 doctor. Marvin Harris had not been in the 
 storm, but was severely hurt by a falling wall 
 while rescuing an old man, who was pinned 
 down by some timbers. He was carried in en a 
 stretcher, and Dixie waited on him. When she 
 had bandaged his broken arm, and had sewed up 
 the gash in his scalp, he told her that she was a 
 great woman, and be wished from his heai't that 
 Dr. Patterson's parentage would be discovered 
 so they would marry and be happy as they de- 
 served to be. It was the final word that made 
 them better friends than she had ever hoped they 
 could be. 
 
 Word was brought to Drury, again and again, 
 that his cottage had been blown from the foun- 
 dation and wrecked; but he ret ised to stop his 
 work of relief to look after his own fortunes. All 
 through the day, the doctors worked, and into 
 the night. He was the youngest doctor among 
 them, and he insisted on staying at the church 
 all night. Part of the injured ones had been re- 
 moved to near-by residences; but it would re- 
 quire the constant presence of a skilled doctor at 
 the church. Dixie, and many of the men and 
 women stayed also. Three of the most seriously 
 injured died during the night, and others \vere 
 thrown into fever and second shock. 
 
 The rain had ceased and the sky was clear 
 when the morning broke. The air was crisp and 
 cold, and it was hard to realize what had hap- 
 pened within twenty-four hours. One could 
 stand at the railroad and look at the track of the 
 storm, one hundred yards wide and a mile long,
 
 256 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 and not a building could be seen standing up- 
 right. Many were missing altogether, and some 
 were scattered for blocks. The rescuing party 
 had recovered all the bodies except two, and they 
 had been burned in the wreckage of the home 
 they had lived in for many years. Other fires 
 would have added to the terror of it all, if it had 
 not been for the pelting rain that had quenched 
 many a blaze. 
 
 The night-watchers were relieved at sunrise by 
 those who had taken some rest, and Drury and 
 Dixie walked to the ruins of his home, three 
 blocks from the church. It had been a beautiful 
 cottage; now, it lay a crumpled, twisted, broken 
 mass of white and green splinters. 
 
 "Oh, it is just too bad, isn'tjt ?" cried Dixie. 
 
 "It is bad, all right; but think of those who 
 have lost more. I can rebuild all this, but 3ome 
 of them have lost parents, and children, and ccm- 
 panions, and others have lost homes they will 
 never be able to rebuild. Oh, what a terrible 
 time it has been !" 
 
 "Yes, I thought the plague, last winter, was 
 bad enough, but this is the most suffering I ever 
 saw." 
 
 They entered the lawn over the fence that was 
 flat on the ground, and found their way 
 through the tangled trees and shrubbery to the 
 broken walls of the cottage. Drury crawled 
 through a broken window and called to Dixie to 
 come after him. It was the room in which Mrs. 
 Patterson had died, and the bed on which she 
 had lain was crushed under the broken planks
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 257 
 
 and the bricks and mortar of a fallen chimney. 
 Some of the bricks had struck the desk and caved 
 the top in. Pictures were gone from the walls, 
 and the door to a closet was wrenched from its 
 hinges. A trunk was showing through the open 
 door, and Drury pulled it out. 
 
 "This is my mother's trunk," he said, "It is 
 about to fall to pieces. I suspect I had better 
 take it and the desk outside, before the walls fall 
 on them and finish their destruction." 
 
 Suiting his actions to his words, he began to 
 drag the trunk across the uneven floor, when it 
 literally fell to pieces. Its contents were a sur- 
 prise to both of them. A complete baby's ward- 
 robe was exposed, and it was so dainty and elab- 
 orate that Dixie gave a little cry of surprise as 
 she gathered it up in her arms. Little red shoes 
 and bootees, lace caps and embroidered flannels, 
 white dresses and silk stockings that would 
 delight any mother on earth were there in abun- 
 dance. Drury was pulling out of the mass other 
 finery that of a woman. Such clothes as he had 
 never seen Mrs. Patterson wear, the clothes of a. 
 grand lady, and with them jewelry and trinkets 
 that were strange to him. Then, a few things that 
 he recognized as the rather plain clothes of his fos- 
 ter-mother. 
 
 Dixie's womanly intuition told her these were 
 the baby-garments the woman had talked of in 
 her delirium the garments she had coveted on 
 that mysterious trip up the river. She was hold- 
 ing in her arms the clothes that loving mother- 
 hands had made for this man she loved. Then,
 
 258 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 the thought came that perhaps they were 
 marked. She dropped the lot and bent over them, 
 examining a skirt. 
 
 "Oh, look!" she cried, "Look, Drury, look! 
 "Here is the name 'McPherson !' " 
 
 "What's that!" And Drury dropped the clothes 
 he held so reverently, and took the skirt from the 
 hands of the excited girl. 
 
 "McPherson." He turned the garment over 
 and around, as if in search of information. "Mc- 
 Pherson," he said again. "I never heard them 
 speak of any one of that name. What can it 
 mean ?" 
 
 "O can't you understand, Drury? These are 
 your clothes, and that is your name Drury Mc- 
 Pherson !" 
 
 "No, surely that can not be." 
 
 "But it is, I am sure." Then, she flew, to the 
 dresses he had dropped and began to examine the 
 wardrobe. 
 
 "Yes, here it is again, as plain as can be, and in 
 the same writing with black indelible ink, 'Mc- 
 Pherson,' and these are your mother's your 
 own mother's clothes. O Drury, I am so excited 
 I do not know what to do. We have found out 
 your name !" 
 
 "Not too fast, little girl. We must have more 
 than circumstantial evidence or surmises. I must 
 know positively who I am and what I am. Let 
 us keep this to ourselves until I know certainly 
 that I have a right to the name, and that it is 
 more worthy than the one I now bear." 
 
 He turned to drag the desk from its corner.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS, 259 
 
 Dumping it over on its side to knock the dust 
 and mortar from it, he received a second shock. 
 The whole top, crushed by the bricks, fell to the 
 floor, and revealed a secret drawer that was hid- 
 den by the moulding that finished the top of the 
 desk. Numerous papers fluttered across the 
 floor, and a book tumbled out. Dixie was ar- 
 ranging the clothes in a suitable stack, and did 
 not notice what had happened. Drury did not 
 call her attention to his find at once, for he want- 
 ed to know what it was first. Opening the book, 
 he read on the title page : 
 
 "To relieve my burdened conscience I have 
 here set down the events that have been burned 
 into my memory like letters of fire. Not being 
 allowed to talk to Mr. Patterson about them, and 
 thinking of them continually has almost upset 
 my mind, but I must tell these things, if only to 
 a book. Should this chronicle ever be found, it 
 is to be turned over to Drury Patterson, my fos- 
 ter-child. And I hope it will be the means of his 
 happiness, even though he hate me for the part I 
 have taken in the tragedy of his life." 
 
 His nervousness was so great, and the groan 
 that escaped his lips was so audible, that Dixie 
 heard it and was at his side in a moment. 
 
 "What is it now, dear?" she asked. 
 
 "O Dixie, I am about to know the truth of my 
 birth and parentage, and I am so nervous. Won't 
 you read it to me, dear?" And he handed her 
 the book. 
 
 Her excitement was as great as his, but it was 
 the excitement of joy and relief. His was still 
 full of anxiety.
 
 260 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Come" she said, after glancing through the 
 book ; "it will take an hour to read this ; let us go 
 to your office." 
 
 So they gathered up the papers, having put 
 away the clothes, and went to Drury's office to 
 read the story both had been wanting to know 
 for so long.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 MRS. PATTERSON'S JOURNAL. 
 
 As Drury and Dixie entered the office and 
 passed to Drury 's private room, both knew they 
 were about to come face to face with an hour 
 pregnant with possibilities and revelations that 
 would affect their happiness for a lifetime. Drury 
 was more nervous than ever, and his impatience 
 to know the facts was overtopped only by his 
 half-acknowledged fear that the facts would not 
 be entirely welcome. He would prefer to remain 
 a nameless waif, doomed to a life of lonely ser- 
 vice, rather than to find that he was the child of 
 undesirable parents. Dixie pushed back the 
 light-brown hair from his forehead, and kissed 
 him there as she said brightly: 
 
 "Cheer up, Drury, dear. You look more as if 
 I was going to read a sentence of death than a 
 birthright. Smile for me, just once, and then I 
 will read." 
 
 "How can I smile, when it may be worse than 
 a death-warrant? Go on and read it, and per- 
 haps I shall smile then." 
 
 "But, O Drury! Your sunny smile always 
 helped others. So many times you used to say 
 'cheer up, the worst is yet to come,' and the 
 worst perplexed boy or girl would smile. Come, 
 I won't begin until you smile. There, that is 
 better. Now, I can read." Then, she began : 
 
 "How am I to begin this story that has been
 
 262 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 like a millstone about my neck for so many 
 years? I have never been a good writer, even of 
 letters, and shrink from setting- down here the 
 things that, written by an able pen, might be 
 called a story indeed. I suspect it would be 
 better for me to go back to my childhood and 
 tell the whole thing. I was born of poor parents, 
 named Warren, in an humble home in the State 
 of North Carolina. When I was nine years old, 
 the family moved to Mississippi, where I grew 
 to womanhood. While poor, my parents were 
 devout Christians, and honest, patriotic citizens. 
 My sister, Martha, married a cotton-buyer who 
 lived in Memphis, and I visited her several times. 
 It was on one of these visits that I met John 
 Patterson. I loved him from the very start. 
 None of my relatives had ever used whiskey, 
 but his drink did not appear to hurt him. I 
 rather liked the effect it had on him. He was 
 more courtly and gallant when he was drinking, 
 and he never appeared to be intoxicated, or 
 drunk, as some would call it. My brother, Basil, 
 seriously objected to my engagement to Mr. 
 Patterson, and aroused the opposition of my 
 sister and my parents. That only increased my 
 determination to marry him, and we were mar- 
 ried by a minister, at his residence. Mr. Patter- 
 son was always kind to me, and we lived in 
 better style than I had been used to. We went 
 to Georgia and visited his people for a time; 
 then, we returned to Memphis, where Mr. Pat- 
 terson had some kind of business. He never 
 told me what it was. Then, my baby came. He
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 263 
 
 was a pretty boy, and I was happy. I idolized 
 him, and Mr. Patterson could not go to his work 
 for sitting and holding the baby. He was so 
 changed in his manners and appearance, and he 
 did not drink for two months. We named the 
 baby John Gorman, after Mr. Patterson and my 
 father. When little Jack, as his father nick- 
 named him, was two months old, we went to 
 New Orleans to attend Mardi Gras. I could not 
 enjoy the festivities for spending the time on my 
 baby. I would sit in the hotel and study the 
 way other babies' clothes were made, and wish 
 I knew how to make them like that for my baby. 
 An inordinate desire to see him decked out in 
 finery possessed me, and I bought a lot of goods 
 and laces, which I expected to have made for 
 him when I returned to Memphis. 
 
 "At last, the day came for our return. The 
 excursion was over ; but a great many people had 
 remained in the city as we had done, and the 
 boat we embarked on was crowded with pas- 
 sengers. Our stateroom was near that of a man 
 and his wife who had a baby just the age of Jack, 
 and the two looked so much alike that the ladies 
 remarked about it several times. Even Mrs. 
 McPherson, for that was the lady's name, said to 
 me that she had never seen two babies look so 
 much alike. I did not think so, for I thought my 
 baby looked more robust than the other. The 
 McPherson baby was named Drury, and they 
 called him Du. It was not his looks that I ad- 
 mired so much, but the clothes he wore. I never 
 had seen such embroidery and dainty baby-
 
 264 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 things in my life. Every time she came out of 
 her stateroom, she had a different dress on little 
 Du. That made me jealous, and I did not keep 
 my baby in the salon more than I was compelled 
 to. I coveted those dresses. God only knows 
 how much I coveted them. 
 
 "That night, I could not sleep, for I was 
 planning to dress my baby so that he would out- 
 shine any baby in Memphis. And I was going 
 to buy a buggy for him that was made of willow 
 wickerwork. It was after midnight, and the mo- 
 notonous thud of the engines was about to suc- 
 ceed in hypnotizing me into a light sleep, when 
 I heard some one running overhead. Then the 
 clang of the bell, and the whistle began to blow 
 in short blasts. The cry of 'Fire' rang out from 
 the salon, and pistols began their popping reports 
 to awaken the passengers. 
 
 "I called to Mr. Patterson, who was sleeping in 
 the upper berth, and hastily threw on a wrapper, 
 and, catching up my baby, ran out into the cabin. 
 The fire was in the rear end of the boat, and I 
 could see the flames eating through the walls not 
 twenty feet away. My first thought was to save 
 my trunk with all the pretty goods I had bought, 
 and I told Mr. Patterson to get it and have it ready 
 to throw overboard, if we were not able to land 
 before the boat sank. The cabin was filling with 
 excited passengers, and I saw the McPhersons 
 emerge from their stateroom with the baby in 
 his nightgown. Mrs. McPherson saw John drag- 
 ging our trunk, and she begged her husband to 
 get theirs. I remember thinking at the time that
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 265 
 
 we were the only ones trying to save our trunks. 
 
 "The fire was lighting- up the river, and we 
 could see that we were still quite a distance from 
 the east shore, toward which the boat was 
 headed. All the passengers, very naturally, gath- 
 ered on the side of the boat, in spite of the at- 
 tempt of the officers to make them stay back 
 from the guard-rail. The crowd was so large that 
 their weight made the boat run lopsided, and the 
 engineer must have lost control of the steering 
 device ; for we soon found the vessel turned with 
 her prow down-stream. Then, the fire drove the 
 men from the engine-room, and we were adrift 
 on the burning boat. The panic was fearful. 
 Men leaped into the water and swam toward 
 shore, women screamed, and babies cried. Chil- 
 dren got lost from parents, and pandemonium 
 seemed to be turned loose. I clung to Mr. Pat- 
 terson and told him to hang to the trunk until 
 he could crowd to the rail and throw it over- 
 board. The McPhersons were just in front of 
 us, and he had her small steamer-trunk on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I shall not attempt to describe the cursing of 
 the wicked, the prayers of the religious, nor the 
 offers of the rich to any one who would save 
 them. The boats were lowered from the upper 
 decks of the steamer, and a great fight ensued, 
 in which men were pushed into the water, and 
 women were lifted over the rail to men below, 
 who put them into the boats. Once the boats 
 were loaded, they were rowed quickly to the 
 shore and deposited the refugees. As they came
 
 266 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 hurrying back to get others, there was a great 
 crush to get to the side of the boat, which 
 had been anchored to keep her from drifting 
 down the stream. I was almost squeezed to 
 death, and Mrs. McPherson cried with pain. 
 Just then, the guard-rail broke and we were all 
 thrown into the water. I suppose it was my 
 grasping for something to hold to that caused 
 me to drop my baby as I fell. Then, I held to a 
 man's coat, and some one was holding to my 
 gown. Oh, I can not set it all down here! I 
 lived almost an eternity there in the water. I 
 had been able to get a breath or two of air by 
 holding on to the man, but the struggling mass 
 kept my head under the water part of the time. 
 I was on the surface now, and my face blistered 
 in the heat as we drifted by the burning end of 
 the boat, which had again swung down-stream. 
 Just then, I saw a rope thrown from a row-boat, 
 and I seized it with both hands. At almost the 
 same instant, a babe, wrapped in a heavy wool 
 blanket, floated into my very arms. Instinct- 
 ively, I caught hold of the blanket, and we were 
 both taken into the boat, and I was afraid I 
 would be drowned before we could be brought 
 to shore. But we were landed safely. The 
 night was balmy, and the men built a fire of drift- 
 wood. My heart beat fast as I undid the blanket 
 to see what kind of a baby I had in my arms, 
 and then I almost screamed aloud as I saw that 
 it was little Drury McPherson." 
 
 Dixie's voice choked, and she stopped reading 
 to recover. Drury was sitting low down in his
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 267 
 
 chair with both hands shoved into his trouser 
 pockets. He was looking as stolid as an Indian, and 
 Dixie knew he was gripping himself with all his 
 will power. 
 
 "Go on, read it," he said, without a movement 
 of any kind. And she resumed the story. 
 
 "My first impulse was to find his mother. 
 Then, the wicked thought came that perhaps she 
 was dead. My baby was gone and I never ex- 
 pected to see it again if she was not found, I 
 would claim her baby, and I would find his 
 trunk and have all those fine clothes. I think I 
 was crazy that night, and perhaps I have been 
 from then until now. Sometimes I think it is 
 the solution of it all. Little Du was in his night- 
 robe a plain little one, such as my baby wore. 
 I sat there by the fire and cried over the loss of 
 little Jack until the morning began to break. 
 Somehow, I had little thought of Mr. Patterson, 
 and, when I did think of him, I was sure he was 
 safe. And he was, for he came hunting among 
 the rescued people for me. He took it for grant- 
 ed that it was our baby in my arms, and told me 
 he had landed the trunk on a sand-bar half a 
 mile below where we were rescued. He confis- 
 cated a skiff and we rowed down to the place to 
 get the trunk. Men were recovering what bodies 
 they could, and they had several laid out on the 
 sand. I felt weak and sick, and, when we walked 
 among the dead and I came to the body of a lady 
 whom I recognized as Mrs. McPherson, even be- 
 fore I saw her face, I fell in a swoon. 
 
 "When I opened my eyes again, I was lying
 
 268 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 under a tree on the high bank overlooking the 
 sand-bar. John and a strange lady were with 
 me, and I saw the baby, wrapped in his blanket, 
 lying beside me. The trunk I prized so highly 
 was also near. I was weak from the exposure 
 and strain, but I begged Mr. Patterson to take 
 me back to the shore where they were recover- 
 ing property and bodies. He refused at first, but 
 finally yielded to my entreaties. I wanted to be 
 sure whether my baby was recovered or not, and 
 still I was afraid to tell him what had happened. 
 Mr. McPherson was not on the bar, and we 
 heard a man say that he was injured. 
 
 "In looking about, I saw the small steamer 
 trunk, with the letters, 'S.C.McP.', on the end, 
 and I knew it was hers, and that it contained 
 those fine clothes. What ever possessed me to 
 covet those clothes like that? I seemed like an- 
 other person, and the loss of my own baby did 
 not seem at all real. If only I could have this baby 
 and his fine clothes, and could get away where 
 no one would ever take him from me, I would 
 be satisfied. I called Mr. Patterson aside and 
 told him what had happened. He refused to be- 
 lieve it until he saw the smiling face of the baby 
 as it awakened from its sleep. He sat down 
 there on the sand and sobbed like a schoolboy, 
 and refused to enter into my scheme. But I was 
 desperate, and I am sure now that the fright and 
 exposure gave me hysteria, for I flew into a tan- 
 trum, and when he saw that I was all but crazy, 
 he gave up and went for the trunk. But he told
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 269 
 
 me that, if they claimed it, he would see that 
 they got it and the baby too. 
 
 "We went back to the tree where my trunk 
 was, and I succeeded in transferring all the nice 
 things I wanted, to it. Then, when John was 
 gone to secure a place for us to stay until we 
 could get transportation, I dragged the small 
 trunk down the bank and dumped it into the 
 river. 
 
 "O reader, whoever you may be, do not judge 
 me too harshly. I was demented, and my sin 
 has been repented of ten thousand times. My 
 sin? Which was the greater sin: to steal the 
 live child and his clothes, or to so quickly transfer 
 my love from my own flesh and blood to the 
 child I argued a kind Providence had thrust into 
 my arms? Was it a sin of my heart in coveting 
 the finery? Or was it due to the disordered con- 
 dition of my mind? I do not know. But I do 
 know it was wrong, and yet I never had the 
 courage to try to right the wrong. Mr. Patter- 
 son would have corrected the matter any time 
 during the first year, had he not been afraid it 
 would send me to the madhouse. And it would 
 have done just that. After that, he came to love 
 the child in his own way, and then he began to 
 fear that, if we were found out, he would be con- 
 victed of kidnapping. That settled the matter, 
 and we began to travel and never went back to 
 that section of the country. 
 
 "But to resume my story : Mr. Patterson hired 
 a man to drive us to a town five miles down the 
 river that day. I suspect he would have taken
 
 370 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 the next boat, but I wanted to attend the funeral 
 of the wreck victims the next day. He did every- 
 thing he could to prevent my going-, but I got a 
 lady to take me in her surrey. I left the babe 
 with John. The bodies were all to be buried in 
 a country graveyard four miles north of Branden. 
 because of their rapid decomposition. 
 
 "Thirty-three graves were open, and there 
 were said to be thirty-five bodies two babes 
 would be buried with their mothers. I saw Mr. 
 McPherson there with his head all bandaged, and 
 his arm in a sling. He asked for his wife's cas- 
 ket to be opened, and I crept near. O my God ! 
 There lay my baby Jack, by the side of the dead 
 mother, whose child I had rescued. I screamed 
 out, but there were so many screaming that I was 
 unnoticed. They had found the baby, and the 
 poor injured father had easily mistaken it for his 
 own. Again, I lost consciousness, and, when I 
 recovered, the funeral was over, and it was time 
 to drive back. 
 
 "I waited until we were on the boat, bound for 
 home, to tell Mr. Patterson what had happened 
 at the cemetery. He was angry with me for 
 keeping up the deception ; but I was more deter- 
 mined than ever to keep the baby. It is so easy 
 to charge God with helping us to do wrong. I 
 consoled myself with the thought that God want- 
 ed me to have that baby, or He never would 
 have cast him into my arms in that miraculous 
 way. The child never would know the difference, 
 and it was not long until I loved him as my own. 
 
 "Mr. Patterson must have found out some-
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 271 
 
 thing about Mr. McPherson, for he became rest- 
 less and wanted to move. We went to St. Louis 
 and stayed there three years. Then, we went to 
 Cuba, and to California. He took to drinking 
 harder, and I was scared when he would come 
 home drunk ; for it was then he would make dire 
 threats of what he would do to me if I ever told 
 anyone about the boy. We called him Drury, 
 because I could not bring myself to call him 
 Jack. 
 
 "At last the news came to us that Mr. Patter- 
 son's parents were dead, and that he was to have 
 the homestead at Tamalpias. That suited us both, 
 for we were sure no one would ever find out 
 about our sin over there." 
 
 Here the writing had ceased, and evidently a 
 long period of time had passed until she had 
 turned two or three pages and begun again. 
 
 "Drury, my dear boy," she wrote, "I have just 
 come from putting some flowers on Mr. Patter- 
 son's grave. It has been a sad time for me. I 
 wish I could bring myself to tell you of my 
 crime in stealing you away from your father. 
 When I saw your fear that you would some day 
 be like John Patterson, I came very near telling 
 you all about it. But my sin has made me such a 
 coward that I could not bear to face you with 
 the story. I hope you will find this book. I am 
 going to leave a note telling you how to open 
 the secret drawer to this desk, which my father 
 gave me, if I do not die too suddenly. If I do 
 not do that, I shall trust to the same Providence 
 that put you in my arms to reveal it all to you in
 
 272 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 His own good time and way. And when you 
 do find out, I plead with you to love me just a 
 little, and to forgive me for what I have done. 
 
 "I am sure I will not live much longer. This 
 secret is a cancer that is gnawing my heart out. 
 You are now a great, good man, and you do not 
 need me any longer. I just want to die. I am 
 leaving some papers in this same drawer, which I 
 found in your mother's trunk " 
 
 Dixie stopped reading, for Drury had leaped 
 to his feet and snatched the papers from her lap. 
 His stoicism was gone, and his excitement was 
 shaking him so that he could scarcely read the 
 yellowed documents. One was a marriage cer- 
 tificate attesting to the marriage of Stephen Car- 
 lisle McPherson to Narcissa Scott, and the cere- 
 mony had been performed by the Rev. T. C. 
 Teasdale, at Memphis, Tennessee. Another was 
 a genealogy of Narcissa Scott's family for five 
 generations preceding her, and there was the date 
 of the birth of Drury Scott McPherson, at Sa- 
 vannah, Georgia, and the date was the one Mrs. 
 Patterson had taught him to observe as the anni- 
 versary of his birth. 
 
 As he read this last paper, Dixie cried out: 
 "O Drury, you have the blood of two Governors 
 in your veins, and of several of the greatest men 
 the South has ever produced ! Isn't it fine !" And 
 she danced about the floor like a child on Christ- 
 mas morning. 
 
 There was another paper written by Mrs. Pat- 
 terson, which contained minute directions for 
 finding the grave of his mother on the banks of
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 273 
 
 the Mississippi River. When he had finished them 
 all, he laid them on the table, and sat down with 
 his face in his hands. Who, that has not ex- 
 perienced them, can describe the emotions that 
 filled the soul of this man, who had found his 
 mother, but found her dead for twenty-five 
 years; had found his name, and the probable 
 right to marry the woman he loved ; and yet, 
 who must fulfil his resolution to bring to his 
 future father-in-law the undoubted proof of his 
 ancestry on both sides of his family. He was 
 worn out with watching, shaken with grief, 
 proud of what he had learned, torn with his love 
 for the beautiful woman who was sharing every- 
 thing with him, and filled with his plans for find- 
 ing his father, if that father was still alive. 
 
 He arose from his chair with a real smile on 
 his face, and reached his arms for Dixie. She 
 went to him with a happy laugh. 
 
 "Think of it, darling," he said, "only a few 
 short weeks, and I shall have the joy of calling 
 you my wife ! I just know my father's family 
 must be all right ; but I am going to find out. I 
 will start tomorrow." 
 
 "God bless you, dear Drury, my fine, strong 
 man; I shall not eat or sleep until I hear from 
 you. You must wire me the first moment you 
 learn the truth. Oh, I love my dear Mr. McPher- 
 son !" 
 
 "That sounds queer. Let us still call it Patter- 
 son until I complete my title." 
 
 "But we must tell dear old Dr. McConnell, 
 and my father!"
 
 274 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Yes, we shall tell them, they have a right to 
 know; but the others must wait a short while. 
 I shall want your father to hear it from me, 
 though, and I shall go by the Capitol and tell 
 him the story. I shall take these records with me, 
 and I want you to go to the cottage and get the 
 clothing that must have been my mother's, and take 
 care of it for me." 
 
 "I will, and the little dresses she made for you 
 that caused Mrs. Patterson to covet them, and 
 then to steal you." 
 
 Then they went and told Dr. McConnell to- 
 gether, and he became excited. 
 
 "I have known all the time that there was 
 something wrong. I said you were not a Pat- 
 terson. You may have looked like their baby 
 when you were little ; but anybody with half 
 sense would know that you are of better stock 
 than that of John Patterson and his wife. 
 
 "Yes, go. Go and find your father, and bring 
 him here that we may know him. Bring him 
 here to attend the wedding, for it must be right 
 away." 
 
 "Yes, Dixie has promised to marry me the very 
 day I return with a clean pedigree," and Drury 
 kissed the hand he held.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 DR. DRURY'S QUEST. 
 
 Drury found it impossible to get away for a 
 week, on account of the serious injuries of so 
 many people. All the doctors were kept busy 
 night and day caring for the stricken citizens. 
 Senator Miller and Jack came home by the first 
 train after hearing the news, and the former was 
 happy over Drury's good fortune in finding out 
 so much about his parents. 
 
 The long week passed, finally, and Drury 
 boarded the train that would speed him on his 
 way to his mother's grave, and to what? 
 
 He went to New Orleans, then up the river to 
 the little village of Braden. He had heard of the 
 overflow a few months previous, and was fearful 
 that the village had been washed away. A fel- 
 low passenger set his mind at rest on the matter 
 before his journey was half done, by telling him 
 that the town was safe, and that the cemetery of 
 which he spoke, was on a ridge above highwater 
 mark. 
 
 At the Braden Hotel, he was directed to a 
 livery-stable, where he secured a team and driv- 
 er, and was soon on his way to the burying- 
 ground. It was late afternoon, and the mid- 
 March sun shone warmly in that southern clime. 
 Everywhere, the signs of spring were abundant, 
 and the farmers were working in the upspringing 
 crops. The driver was an old man, and he re- 
 membered the wrecking and burning of the Katie
 
 276 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Malone as though it had been yesterday. Then, 
 he launched into his oft-repeated version of the 
 accident, and how he had helped to dig the 
 graves of the victims. Drury did not ask him 
 about his mother's grave. He was afraid to do 
 that for fear it would be found neglected, or not 
 found at all. 
 
 On their arrival at the cemetery, he was sur- 
 prised to find it one of the best-kept graveyards 
 he had ever seen. The ground was clear of grass 
 and weeds, and the walks were covered with 
 gravel, and bordered with large shells from the 
 river. White stakes and posts marked the blocks 
 and lots, and each one was numbered with black 
 figures. 
 
 "Yes," replied his driver, in answer to his ex- 
 clamation of amazement, "we are proud of our 
 cemetery. Old Mr. Hughes has the books, and 
 he can tell you who is buried in each and every 
 grave, and when they were buried. Come on 
 over here and I'll show you where the people are 
 laid that were drowned that time the Katie Malone 
 went down." 
 
 He led Drury to one side, and pointed out sev- 
 eral graves that were unmarked save by a white 
 board with a number neatly painted on it. A few 
 of the graves indicated had small slabs of mar- 
 ble ; but one, farther on, had a tall shaft of gray 
 granite over it. 
 
 "Whose is that well-kept grave with the gran- 
 ite monument?" asked Drury, as they came to 
 the line of graves. 
 
 "That is the grave of a woman and child. They
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 277 
 
 put the child in her arms ; a little baby a month 
 or two old. Her husband was almost killed 
 when the rail broke from the crowd surging 
 against it. He comes here every year and covers 
 the grave with flowers. I did know where he 
 conies from, but I have forgotten ; I can't re- 
 member things like I used to. Now here is 
 where they " 
 
 But Drury had pushed past him, and was hur- 
 rying to the grave that he was sure held the 
 body of his own mother. Coming to it, he read 
 the inscription: 
 
 "Narcissa and Drury, 
 Wife and Infant 
 
 Son of 
 S. C. McPherson. 
 
 Died 
 April 18 " 
 
 There was a short poem and a quotation of 
 Scripture. That was all. The plants and flow- 
 ers were fresh-worked, and there were some pot- 
 plants that had recently been placed there. The 
 plot was surrounded by a curb of granite, and on 
 this Drury knelt and wept. Nor were his tears 
 from the shallow fountain of sentiment; they 
 were from the deepest emotions of his manly 
 soul. Here his father had shed tears for his child 
 as well as for his young wife. -It was as though 
 he wept at his own grave. 
 
 The driver drew near, and his human sympa- 
 thy made the tears run over his seamed face. He 
 wiped his face with a rough hand, and asked :
 
 278 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Mister, or, Doctor, I believe you told us you 
 was, is it some of your kinfolks that we laid here 
 twenty-five years ago?" 
 
 "My mother," he managed to answer, and the 
 word relieved him. 
 
 "Why, I guess you're mistaken, Doctor. She 
 only had one child, and that was buried with her. 
 I remember that because there were two others 
 buried the same day, and none of them had but 
 the one child." 
 
 "But it was another baby they buried with my 
 mother. I was rescued from that boat by an- 
 other woman, and her baby was mistaken for 
 me." 
 
 "I reckon you will have a hard time making 
 Judge McPherson believe that. He saw his 
 child, and identified it, and he will think you 
 have come along trying to get his money with a 
 story like that." 
 
 "That is all right, my good man. You may 
 drive me back to the town, now, if you please. 
 And it would be just as well if you keep all this 
 tc yourself until I find my father." 
 
 At the hotel, he asked to see the register, and 
 the clerk was able to turn to the very place where 
 Judge McPherson had last registered. His name 
 was written in a bold hand, and the address giv- 
 en was Atlanta, Georgia. Drury learned that the 
 sexton of the cemetery was paid a stipulated sum 
 to keep Mrs. McPherson's grave, and that the 
 Judge had come each year, until the last two, to 
 see it. He had written to know about the grave, 
 and had explained his absence by saying that his
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 279 
 
 duties as Judge had prevented his annual trip. 
 
 Again Drury, who had lived more in twenty- 
 five years than many men live in seventy, took 
 up his jouney in quest of a parentage that would 
 not only give him a father, but that would en- 
 able him to take unto himself a wife whom he 
 had loved for eight long years. It was night 
 when he reached the city, and he went to a hotel 
 and to bed. He was weary and needed the rest, 
 and he wanted to meet his father when he was 
 fresh and presentable. The night did wonders 
 for him. He felt like a new man when he came 
 from his morning bath, and partook of a whole- 
 some breakfast. From a city directory, he 
 learned his father's address, and was starting to 
 take a car when he reflected that it would be bet- 
 ter to telephone and see if he was at home. Some 
 one replied to his call, and said that the Judge 
 was out just then, but would be at home at 
 eleven o'clock. 
 
 The time passed slowly for the son who had 
 never looked into his father's face since an in- 
 fant. Tiring of the hotel, he concluded to see the 
 city, and called a taxicab. He had an hour and 
 a half, and he told the driver to take him over the 
 prettiest part of the city slowly enough that he 
 could see the points of interest. As every 
 Atlanta driver does under such orders, he was 
 taken first to that famous boulevard, Peach-Tree 
 Street. He found himself repeating the words 
 of the Queen of Sheba : "The half has not been 
 told," for it is a wonderful sight to the visitor. 
 Then, he was taken through parks and drives
 
 280 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 that awakened his interest to such a pitch that 
 he was alarmed when he opened his watch and 
 found that it was just eleven. Giving the driver 
 instruction to drive to the address where his 
 father lived, he leaned back and began to worider 
 what the parental residence would be like. It is 
 a strange fact that he had not once tried to im- 
 agine how his father would look. When he 
 thought of him, he pictured him sitting in the 
 crowded graveyard with his head bandaged and 
 his arm in a sling. 
 
 The taxicab stopped before a beautiful stone 
 residence with a tile roof. The grounds were 
 spacious and well kept, and two pretty fountains 
 were in full flow. It was almost a fairyland to this 
 man of the hills and plains of the West. 
 
 A negro man, in olive-green livery, answered 
 his ring, and he saw at once that a card was ex- 
 pected. Fortunately, he had a few cards, and he 
 quickly gave the footman one, and waited until 
 he returned and bowed him into the hall. 
 
 "Come this way. The Judge is in the library," 
 said the servant. 
 
 At the library door, he bowed low and stepped 
 aside for Drury to enter. At a table, in the cen- 
 ter of the luxuriant room, sat a man not more 
 than fifty years old. His hair was almost white, 
 his clean-shaven face was noble, kind, and yet 
 full of sedateness and sternness that made him look 
 venerable. The keen, deep-set eyes, and the well- 
 molded nose denoted the student, while his large 
 size and good color bespoke robust health. He 
 was on his feet in a moment. "How do you do,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 281 
 
 Doctor " glancing at the card "Doctor Patter- 
 son. Have a seat." 
 
 "Thank you, Judge McPherson." 
 
 "I believe I have not met you before. Are you 
 a stranger in the city, Doctor?" 
 
 "I arrived last night/' 
 
 "I take it that you have come to see me on pro- 
 fessional business?" 
 
 "Yes, and no. I want to ask you about the ac- 
 cident to the Katie Malone, on the Mississippi 
 River, twenty-five years ago. I understand you 
 were on the boat that night?" 
 
 "I was. But you are too young a man to have 
 been there also. Perhaps some of your relatives 
 were lost that night?" 
 
 "They were. My mother was drowned that 
 night. Did you not lose your wife then?" 
 
 "Yes, and my baby, too. What was your 
 mother's name?" 
 
 Drury was somewhat confused by this unex- 
 pected question ; but he avoided it for the time. 
 
 "Judge McPherson," he asked, "did it ever oc- 
 cur to you that there might have been a mistake in 
 the identification of the babies that were found on 
 the sand-bar the next morning?" 
 
 "What do you mean? What can you mean?" 
 
 "Just this : there was another couple on that 
 boat, named Patterson. They had a child the 
 same age as yours, and both children were said 
 to look alike. The child that was buried with 
 your wife was dressed in a little night-robe such 
 as almost any child would wear. You were hurt, 
 and easily took it for granted that the babe was
 
 282 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 your own. Is it not possible that the other 
 couple lost their child and found yours alive, and 
 claimed it?" 
 
 "Possible, my dear sir, but not all probable. 
 I can see how a scheme to present me with an 
 heir at this late day could be worked out along 
 these lines ; but it would take more than a plau- 
 sible story to convince me." 
 
 "I think I have such evidence, Judge. I have 
 here a number of things. Allow me to say that 
 I am the child that was rescued that night." 
 
 "The Patterson child? I remember them; and 
 I also remember that Mrs. Patterson came to the 
 funeral, and how she screamed when she looked 
 into the casket and saw mother and babe to- 
 gether." 
 
 "No wonder she screamed ; for, according to 
 her written confession, which I have here, she 
 was looking at her own child instead of yours." 
 
 "What is that? She claims to have substi- 
 tuted her child for mine?" 
 
 "No, she claims that it was accident that sub- 
 stituted, or exchanged, the children, and, then, 
 she deliberately stole me from you." 
 
 "Stole you ! She claims that you are my child !" 
 
 "That is it, exactly." 
 
 "God in heaven, help me. What is the man 
 saying !" 
 
 "Hear me out, Judge. If what Mrs. Patterson 
 makes written confession of is true, and if her 
 dying words were true, you are my father, I am 
 your son that has been mourned as dead for a 
 quarter of a century."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 283 
 
 "Give me the confession the evidence. It 
 seems like a tale from 'Alice-in-Wonderland.' " 
 
 He took the book from Drury's hands, and 
 began to read. Slowly at first, then with quick, 
 nervous hands, he turned the leaves of the record. 
 More than once, he let the book fall to the table 
 and looked across at the young doctor. The 
 further he read, the oftener he looked, and Drury 
 could see that conviction was being borne in on 
 him that the story was true. As he finished the 
 reading, Drury handed over a small package. 
 Judge McPherson undid it, and there lay before 
 him a dainty baby-dress. 
 
 "Ah, I know that dress. I watched Narcissa 
 ply her needle many an evening while she made 
 that. Oh, I am sure it is all true! And you are 
 my little Du that " 
 
 He could say no more, but walked around the 
 table, and the two men went into each other's 
 arms. 
 
 A moment later, a woman stood in the door- 
 way, exclaiming: "Stephen, what is the matter? 
 Oh, I beg your pardon, I did not know I was 
 intruding." 
 
 "Come back, Addie," called the elder man. 
 "Come here. I want to introduce to you my son ; 
 Doctor McPherson ; my wife, son." 
 
 "Your son! I do not understand." 
 
 "Neither could I, until I read the confession 
 of the woman who stole him the day Narcissa 
 was buried. It was not my child that was buried 
 with her; it was the child of a Mrs. Patterson, 
 and this is my own child, my son, come to me a
 
 284 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 full-fledged doctor, and a good one, I hope." 
 
 Then, the household was notified, and Drury 
 found himself surrouned by two sisters and three 
 brothers. His oldest half-sister was a beautiful 
 young lady of about twenty summers, which must 
 have been happy ones, judging by her sweet face. 
 There was a boy eighteen, a girl fifteen, another 
 boy eleven, and one eight. 
 
 Dinner, which Mrs. McPherson had come to 
 the library to announce, was served, and the 
 servants seemed as glad of the dramatic ap- 
 pearance of the new son as were any of the 
 family. 
 
 "You haven't told us, Drury, are you married?" 
 asked the Judge, in the midst of the meal. 
 
 "No, sir; but I here and now give you all an 
 invitation to my wedding to Miss Dixie Miller 
 within a month." 
 
 "My, how sudden!" exclaimed Mazie. 
 
 "No, not sudden, Sister. I have wanted to 
 marry her for many years." 
 
 "And why haven't you?" asked the father. 
 
 "That is a long story. It has to do with the 
 whole question of heredity and physical fitness 
 to marry." 
 
 "I see. You could not marry her when you 
 thought yourself the child of John Patterson; 
 then, you would not marry her until you knew 
 your ancestry was all right. Is that it?" 
 
 "Your powers of perception are very keen, 
 Father." 
 
 "Well, I am glad to tell you that there never
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 285 
 
 was cleaner blood than that which flows in your 
 veins, my son." 
 
 "Next to that which establishes my relation- 
 ship to this fine family, that is the best piece of 
 information I have received for many a day. I 
 could never ask Senator Miller's daughter to be 
 my wife without the knowledge that I was of- 
 fering to her a clean hand and a pure body. She 
 must never have the trouble, nor bring to her 
 parents the sorrow, caused by the marriage of 
 her beautiful twin sisters to men who were unfit 
 for marriage at all." 
 
 Then, he told them of his life and his friends ; 
 about his work, and that of the great man whose 
 daughter he was to marry ; of Tamalpias, and its 
 Health Club, the principles of which he had 
 helped to mold ; of Dixie Miller, the beautiful 
 girl who had become a trained nurse because of 
 his supposed parentage ; of the two campaigns, 
 and the hoped-for success of father and son, who 
 were then in the legislature fighting for an un- 
 selfish revenge against the Monster that had 
 ruined the lives of their loved ones. 
 
 So much was Judge McPherson impressed 
 with his capable son that he gave a luncheon in 
 his honor the next evening, and invited a few of 
 the city's best physicians. Drury was surprised 
 and embarrassed by being told by one of the best 
 surgeons in all the South that the work and 
 lectures of the little company at Tamalpias were 
 already attracting the attention of educators and 
 doctors throughout the country, and it was freely 
 prophesied that the work of this generation in that
 
 286 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 line was going to accomplish more for the race than 
 anything that had been done during the past five 
 hundred years. 
 
 Drury found his father an honored and wealthy 
 citizen of the city, and his cultured family very 
 popular in the best circles of society. For a week 
 he was kept busy attending receptions and social 
 functions, and he was proud of being introduced by 
 his lovely sister as "my doctor-brother, whom we 
 have just found." 
 
 As soon as he could get away from them, the first 
 afternoon, he sent Dixie a telegram, which read : 
 
 "News too good to wire. Am writing. Will be 
 at home next week, and will expect you to keep 
 your promise right away. 
 
 "(Signed) Drury Scott McPherson." 
 
 He wanted the whole family to return with him 
 for the wedding festivities ; but it was impossible 
 for any of them to go, save his father and his old- 
 est sister, Mazie. Judge McPherson told him of 
 his mother, and proposed to take him to see her 
 people on their way West. Drury was overjoyed 
 with the prospect, and could scarcely wait for the 
 journey to begin. They left Atlanta on Tuesday, 
 and arrived at the City of Roses on Thursday. 
 Judge McPherson had wired the Scotts he was 
 coming, but had not told them of Drury, and the 
 party was met at the station by a venerable man, 
 whose flowing white hair and fine face made one 
 think of Henry Ward Beecher, and by a young 
 man, who was introduced as Dr. Walter Scott. 
 Drury was introduced simply as Dr. McPherson,
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 287 
 
 and explanations were reserved for a time when 
 the family would be together. 
 
 The old gentleman proved to be Drury's grand- 
 father, and the doctor, his uncle. His grandfather 
 was a retired minister, and his grandmother, who 
 was still living, was a dear old lady of the old type, 
 which is fast disappearng. There were aunts and 
 cousins by the score ; for it was a family that 
 "claimed kin" as far as the least relationship could 
 be traced. He was shown pictures of two ancestors 
 that had been governors and of one that had been 
 a major in the war of the sixties. 
 
 A rare treat awaited him. His father had shown 
 him photographs of his mother ; but her parents had 
 an oil painting of her that had been made just be- 
 fore her marriage to his father. He stood before it 
 for hours, and wished he could have seen her. She 
 was so different from Mrs. Patterson that he knew 
 what he had missed by her death. He was aston- 
 ished above measure when his grandfather led him 
 to the painting, just before his departure, and made 
 him a present of it. 
 
 "You are taking your father home to see you mar- 
 ried. Take this picture, and show it to your bride. 
 Tell her your mother was one of the fairest flow- 
 ers the death-angel ever plucked from earth. You 
 can see she was beautiful ; but she was as pure and 
 good as she was beautiful." 
 
 "O Grandfather," he stammered. "You embar- 
 rass me by your kindness. I would rather have 
 that picture than any legacy in the world. I thank 
 you a thousand times, and I know Dixie will be so 
 glad."
 
 288 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 Dr. Scott was proud of his nephew and tried to 
 persuade him to locate in The City of Roses, and 
 enter into practice with him ; but Drury told him it 
 was his ambiton to become a great surgeon, and 
 that he intended going to Germany for a course of 
 study. 
 
 Promising to return to see them soon, and to 
 bring his bride, Drury, with his father and sister, 
 left them on Saturday and turned his face toward 
 home and Dixie.
 
 JIM MILLEE'S GIRLS 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 REALIZED DREAMS. 
 
 Up to the time of the death of Allie Miller and 
 the suicide of Maury Tallman, Tamalpias had had 
 only one real sensation. That was when the big- 
 hotel, which had been built to accommodate the 
 horsemen and the gamblers that followed the races, 
 had burned, and two of the guests had lost their 
 lives. Since the troubles of the Miller family had 
 begun to develop, there had been much to disturb 
 the quiet life of the town. The scarlet fever and 
 diphtheria epidemics, John Patterson's tragic death, 
 the campaigns Jim Miller had made, and the cy- 
 clone, following in rapid succession, had prepared 
 the inhabitants for almost anything. However, the 
 return of the young doctor they all knew and loved, 
 accompanied by his father and sister, and the an- 
 nouncement that he was not the child of the Pat- 
 tersons, but the child of one of the first citizens of 
 Georgia, threw the citizens into an excitement that 
 put a stop to all work and traffic for several days. 
 Some stood about and shook their heads, and one 
 said: 
 
 "You can never know what to expect these days. 
 I can hardly believe it is so." 
 
 "Pshaw !" answered a neighbor. "I ain't a bit 
 surprised ; I allus did know Drury was better'n 
 them Pattersons. He never did look like either one 
 of 'em." 
 
 "Well, I don't care what name he goes by," ob- 
 served another ; "he is a fine doctor, and they ain't
 
 290 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 another un in all this country what could a' saved 
 my little Bob when he had scarlet fever. I like him 
 just as well with one name as with another." 
 
 Old Rilla was staying with Jessie Tallman, and 
 she could not get over the great news. 
 
 "Now, Miss Jessie," she said again, "does I un- 
 derstan' that Mis' Patterson, she done tuk de trunk 
 an' de baby an' lit out afore dey could catch her? 
 Yessum, an' she lef her own chile layin' dar in de 
 arms o' dat lady, jes' so? Umph? An' he sho' miff 
 ain't de chile o' no drunker, is he, Miss Jessie? An' 
 dat gran' gemmen is he pa ! Lawdy, but I is glad ; 
 kase, now den, Mjss Dixie kin mahry him, kain't 
 she, Miss Jessie?" 
 
 "Yes, Rilla, she is going to marry him Easter 
 Sunday a week from next Sunday." 
 
 "Yessum. Ain't dat mighty sudden like, Miss 
 Jessie ?" 
 
 "You must remember they have been waiting to 
 get married for six years, Rilla." 
 
 "Den, why for didn't dey?" 
 
 "Because he wanted to know that he was the child 
 of good parents, and fit to marry, first." 
 
 "Fitten? Dr. Patterson no, I mean Dr. Me 
 
 What is it, Miss Jessie?" 
 
 "McPherson." 
 
 "Yessum, McPhersum. Dr. McPhersum ain't 
 never been anything but fitten. He ain't never run 
 'round lak other men. He's allus been fitten." 
 
 "What does 'fitten' mean, Mama?" asked Little 
 Jim, as he felt of a mechanical toy Drury had 
 brought him from Atlanta. 
 
 "That is Rilla's way of saying 'good', darling."
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 291 
 
 "Well, she is right. Uncle Drury is good, isn't 
 he, Mama?" 
 
 Dixie had taught him to call Drury uncle, and he 
 always said it. His teacher had succeeded in teach- 
 ing him many things that children of his age did not 
 know. His association with grown folks continu- 
 ally had given him a sagacity that was unusual, and 
 he wanted to know the reason for everything. He 
 loved to go to the cemetery and place flowers on 
 his father's grave, and he talked much about the 
 time when he would go where Papa was and be able 
 to see him. 
 
 The legislature was still in session, and there was 
 strong liability that the Governor would call an 
 extra session immediately. One or two of Jim Mil- 
 ler's bills had passed, and the others were in fair 
 prospect of being enacted into law ; but it was 
 doubtful that the chief executive would approve the 
 one that required certificates from physicians before 
 a marriage license could be obtained. 
 
 Senator Miller and Jack went home to be at the 
 wedding on Easter. It was a simple affair in the 
 church. Neither the bride or bridegroom wanted 
 anything elaborate, and their wishes were respected, 
 even to the lack of excessive decoration. Jim Mil- 
 ler gave away the bride, and Drury approached the 
 altar on the arm of his father. Jack Miller and 
 Mazie McPherson did the honors, and the same 
 minister that had married the twins took the vows. 
 
 Jack and Justa were tempted to move up their 
 date, and embark on the sea of matrimony with 
 Drury and Dixie; but they decided to wait until 
 May-day, as they had already planned.
 
 292 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 There was no happier man in the Valley than 
 Dr. McConnell. He was proud of his partner, and 
 he was proud of Dixie. He thought Judge McPher- 
 son and Jim Miller the two grandest men he had 
 ever met, and he told them so. His gift to the cou- 
 ple was a promise to have the cottage rebuilt at his 
 expense, and have it ready for them on their return 
 from Europe. 
 
 Jim Miller and Judge McPherson found a natu- 
 ral affinity for each other from the first, and the 
 two families soon felt that they had known each 
 other always. Mazie and Jessie were together 
 much, and the former got a vision of life that she 
 had never had before. She saw the righteousness 
 of the great cause Senator Miller was giving his 
 life to, and she returned home an advocate of his 
 high principles. 
 
 Dixie's dream of touring the world with Drury 
 came true. They left the dear little town of their 
 childhood on an April day, when the whole earth 
 was full of blossoms and life, and they sailed from 
 New York with a merry party of tourists. It was 
 early in the season, but they wanted to spend some 
 time in England and France before going to the far 
 East. Jessie had told Dixie of things to look up, 
 and they sometimes felt sad as they stood where 
 Maury Tallman had stood with his bride, full of 
 hope and happiness. 
 
 Then, they went to Egypt, and, on to Palestine, 
 and through Suez Canal, to the Orient. It was a 
 great trip for the young people, who had come 
 through so much sorrow and so many disappoint- 
 ments. As they neared the shores of their native
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 293 
 
 land, their hearts swelled with pride for the best 
 country on the globe. It was September when their 
 ship entered the Golden Gate and anchored in the 
 Bay of San Francisco. It was the grandest sight 
 they had seen. Nowhere in all the world can one 
 find more to excite wonder and admiration; no- 
 where can one see more at a glance: Oakland and 
 Berkeley on the east, the Ferry Building and the 
 towers and hills of 'Frisco on the west, Yerba 
 Buena and Alcatras Islands, like gems rising out of 
 the Bay; Mt. Tamalpias standing like a guardian 
 over the way to the sea, while boats and ships plow 
 the waters, and cargoes from Orient and Occident 
 are coming and going. 
 
 They visited the navy-yard, at Mare Island, and 
 went to see the wizard, Burbank, at Santa Rosa; 
 through the mighty groves of eucalyptus-trees, up 
 to Mt. Shasta; down the San Joaquin Valley, and 
 over to Santa Clara to see the famous big trees ; to 
 the Yosemite, and to St. Catalina Island; then to 
 Long Beach, and the orange-groves that never fail. 
 
 "It is like the king of the feast who said of the 
 wine Jesus had made : 'You have reserved the best 
 until the last,' " observed Dixie, as they sat in the 
 Sunken Gardens, at Pasadena. 
 
 "Yes, I believe that Italian Prince was right who 
 saM that Americans were fools to go gadding to 
 Europe simply for sightseeing. He said there was 
 nothing in Europe to compare with our scenery, and 
 I agree with him." 
 
 "I have been thinking how dull it would be un- 
 less one had some one along to share it with him. 
 I would not want to make the trip without you."
 
 294 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 "Nor I without you, Dixie. But I am longing to 
 get back to our dear old Southland. How I would 
 love to smell a magnolia, or a Cape jasmine!" 
 
 "You just said that to make me homesick, you 
 bad boy. I would like to hear the band play 'Dixie' 
 once more, too." 
 
 "And you said that in retaliation! But we shall 
 be at home one week from today, if nothing hap- 
 pens."
 
 r [ JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 JIM MILLER'S REVENGE. 
 
 Again, the large bell at Villa Maria was an- 
 nouncing early mass, and, again, the children of 
 Tamalpias were scampering hither and thither 
 hunting Easter eggs in the dewy grass. But the 
 pool on Senator Miller's ranch was as quiet as the 
 grave of Allie Miller when the old negro nurse, 
 Rilla, entered the bath-house and sat down on 
 the steps. She was as sentimental as she was 
 superstitious, and was now muttering to herself: 
 
 "I'se lived mos' long enuff, now, and Fse jes' 
 waitin' fer de good Lawd to lemme come on 
 home. But I had to come down he-er once tno' 
 and see de ol' pool whar dem angel-twins use ter 
 come a-bavin' ebery mawnin'. An' des think, it 
 war ten y'ars ago dey come home from dat big 
 school back yander some'ers, and tuk to playing 
 like ducks in dis spring. An' 'en it was nine 
 y'ars ago dis bery mawin' dat dey was adippin' 
 and aswimm' in dat watah des like watah-fowls. 
 Now whar is dey? Miss Allie done daid, an' Miss 
 Jessie de bes', lovin'est widder in de world, and 
 got dat li'l blind Jim what knows mo' in a minit 
 dan lots o' white chillen what's got two good 
 eyes, an' he aint got narry un. He's gwine to be 
 like his big father what kilt himse'f, on'y he's 
 gwine to hab too much sense to kill hese'f. So, 
 dey's nobody lef ter swim in you, purty, cl'ar 
 watah, 'cep' when dey's comp'ny come from de
 
 296 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 city to see Marse Miller, er when Marse Jack 
 is ter home ag'in. 
 
 "Des well quit yer singing', mister mockin' 
 bird, lessen you go out to de simitry an' sing in 
 de cedar what grows whar Miss Allie's buried, 
 kase nobody's gwine to hear you." 
 
 "What's all that you are saying, Aunt Rilla?'' 
 
 "Who dat?" cried the old woman, leaping 
 up. " 'Fo' God, Marse Jim, you done scart me 
 plum to def." 
 
 "I did not know you were here. I came to look 
 at the pool once more. I haven't seen it for near- 
 ly two years." 
 
 "That's what I come down he-er for the same 
 thing, Marse Jim. Its bein' Easter, I jes' nat'ly 
 had ter come." 
 
 "It is a pretty pool." 
 
 "Yes, sah; yes, sahj.but not half as purty as it 
 used to be when y' all's baby-twins used to come 
 down he-er ebery mawnin' and play about in it 
 like fishes." 
 
 Senator Miller turned away quickly ; for that 
 was what had brought him to the spot. He, too, 
 was sentimental, and had wandered out this fine 
 morning to see the pool he had built to please 
 the twins. But he did not want to discuss the 
 matter with anybody, not even with his wife. He 
 was going to take his family wife, children, and 
 grandchildren to the cemetery before going to 
 church. |They always went there on Easter 
 morning. But he had come on this little stroll 
 that he might allow his memory to turn to his
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 297 
 
 child, on account of whose death he had fought 
 for revenge. 
 
 He left the old nurse at the pool and went back 
 to the house, Dixie and Drury, with their baby 
 boy, Stephen, and Jack and Justa, with their little 
 Corinne, as well as Jessie and Little Jim, had spent 
 the night with the parents. As Senator Miller 
 entered the hall, a childish voice cried out: 
 
 "Hello, Grandfather! I have been looking ev- 
 erywhere for you. Look at my eggs. Aren't they 
 pretty?" 
 
 "Yes, they are. A red one, with two rabbits on 
 it, and two purple ones ; yes, and a yellow one. 
 Where did you find them, Little Jim?" 
 
 "Out there behind the swing, where the grass 
 didn't get mowed. Nobody showed me, either. 
 I thought they would hide some of them there, 
 and I waked up early so I could find them before 
 some one else did." 
 
 "You are Grandfather's fine boy, Little Jim," 
 and the strong man bent and took the child into 
 his arms, and brown curls mixed with snow- 
 white locks. 
 
 "Grandfather," asked the blind child, "isn't 
 Corrinne sweet and pretty? I think she is the 
 prettiest little girl in town, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes, darling, she has pretty red cheeks and 
 curly brown hair." 
 
 "Yes, sir, and the sweetest brown eyes, and 
 a dimple, too. Did you see her dimple, Grand- 
 father? It is right there on her left cheek." 
 
 "Yes, I saw it, Little Jim. Here she comes, 
 now, and there is little Stephen, trying to come
 
 298 JJM MILLER'S 
 
 down-stairs backward, while his mama holds his 
 dress to keep him from falling." 
 
 "I hear Uncle Drury, too. Hello, Uncle Drury ! 
 Come and get me." 
 
 "No, Papa det Ste, Papa det Ste," cried Dixie's 
 boy. 
 
 Come to 'Bampa,' Stephen, and let Papa get 
 Little Jim," coaxed the happy man at the foot 
 of the stairs. 
 
 "Aw-wite, Bampa det Ste. Jack, det Tin." 
 
 "Tin want fing, Tin want fing," cried the femi- 
 nine mite, trying to open the front door. 
 
 "No, no, wait until after breakfast. Then, you 
 may all swing," called Mrs. Miller, opening the 
 doors to the dining room. 
 
 After breakfast, Jack got out his father's car 
 and drove the three young women to their sev- 
 eral homes that they might cut the flowers they 
 had grown for decorating the graves of their 
 dead. Jessie's lawn was the most beautiful in 
 the whole town. She had taken the prize three 
 successive years in the civic improvement con- 
 tests, and always furnished flowers for weddings 
 and funerals. Justa's and Dixie's lawns were 
 new, but they were not barren by any means. 
 
 The custom, begun by the Millers, of going to 
 the cemetery on Easter morning, had spread un- 
 til many people had adopted it. On this particu- 
 lar morning, not less than one hundred people 
 were there, and the graves of strangers and of 
 non-resident families were favored by the gen- 
 erous people of Tamalpias. 
 
 When the graves were covered, and the people
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 299 
 
 had gathered at the pavilion in the center of 
 the yard, Jim Miller lifted his voice so that all 
 could hear. 
 
 "Friends," he said, "we have come here this 
 Easter morning, according to a most beautiful 
 custom, to remember our dead, and to place 
 upon their graves these white lilies, emblems of 
 the resurrection. Death is no respecter of per~ 
 sons, and reaps from all our homes ; it loves a shin- 
 ing mark, and many of these graves hold the bodies 
 of the sweetest children, the most beautiful women, 
 and the best men that ever lived. But a bow, 
 bright with the promise of a glorious immor- 
 tality, arches this sacred spot, and fills the fu- 
 ture with the hope that you and I shall see our 
 dead again. 
 
 "You, my good friends, know why I and mine 
 are here today. My public life has unavoidably 
 revealed my deep bereavement, and I have been 
 compelled to tell why I have been aroused to 
 the fight for the race. The monster crime of our 
 boasted civilization social sin dug those two 
 graves yonder, and many more like them on this 
 plot of ground. Seven years ago, I learned the 
 truth; since that time, I have spared neither 
 time nor money, energy nor influence, that I 
 might in some measure, avenge the wrongs in- 
 flicted on my children ; the death of one and the 
 widowhood of another ; the sightless eyes of this 
 bright child, and the aching heart of the mother 
 of my children. 
 
 "You have helped me in the fight, and you, 
 as much as I, are the beneficiaries of the victory
 
 300 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 
 
 that has been won. But the victory is sweet to 
 me, sweeter than I ever dreamed it would be. 
 Give me that child, Dr. McPherson, and youi 
 sweet girl, Jack. Look at these, my friends. I am 
 so intoxicated with the wine of revenge that I 
 dare hold up these, my grandchildren, and tell 
 you that they have come into the world under 
 the conditions I have urged so strongly among 
 you. Thank God, there are pure men and pure, 
 high-minded boys in this country, and on them 
 rests the responsibility of the coming genera- 
 tions. 
 
 "Mollie," he said, turning to his weeping wife, 
 as he brushed the tears from his own noble face. 
 "I am almost ready to say that our loss has been 
 great gain. We lost a daughter, but we have 
 been able to save a thousand women what she 
 suffered ; we have mourned, but now we are com- 
 forted. Jessie, my daughter, you are avenged. 
 Your sacrifice has been great, but your help in 
 the work of enlightenment has been incalculable. 
 Dr. McConnell, you are a grand old veteran, and 
 will soon go to your reward. You, too, have 
 paid toll to the Great Black Plague; but you 
 have had your part in this battle that has eman- 
 cipated the slaves of lust. Soon, you will hear 
 the call: 'Come up higher; you have been faith- 
 ful, have rule over much.' Among the younger 
 men here, no one deserves greater praise than 
 Dr. McPherson. Drury, my son, no man ever 
 won his bride more bravely, and none deserved 
 the woman he got, more than you deserve the 
 last girl I had to give away.
 
 JIM MILLER'S GIRLS 301 
 
 "O friends, this hour pays a hundred-fold for 
 all that has gone before it. Let us keep up the 
 fight until all men shall be compelled to stay 
 entirely out of the wild oats patch, or live in 
 it. Jack, my boy, you have kept your promise 
 so well; but there is plenty to be done yet. 
 Never let up as long as there is such a thing as 
 the Great Black Plague in America. 
 
 "It will be fitting to have this dear old minis- 
 ter, who has seen more than half the graves here 
 filled up, lead us in prayer and pronounce a 
 benediction." 
 
 This the reverend man did, and the company 
 turned from the city of the dead and went out 
 among the happy children, and to the stone 
 church, where the music and Easter bonnets 
 were as exquisite as they were on that first 
 day we met Jim Miller's girls.
 
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