Green Eyes

“Life,” said the lady cop, as the toe of her shoe traced odd patterns in the ashes before the fire, “at times seems very strange. We are born with certain impulses. They are wit...

Youth is the time of life when perils, sorrows and battles are soon forgotten; when joy persists, and the anticipation of some fresh thrill is ever uppermost in the mind. As the...

“In France, at one time,” Jeanne began, as she settled back in her place and Florence rested on her oars, “the gypsies were treated as outlaws. They were hunted from province to...

At the very center of this narrow bay some dark object cast a shadow. This was a rowboat. It was painted black. The anchor lay in its prow. The boat did not drift. There are tim...

The three days’ rain became a reality. A steady downpour, that set the forest mourning in earnest and turned the lake into a blanket of gray, settled down over all.

There is that about the woods and water at night which casts upon one a spell of irresistible loneliness and sadness. It is as if all the generations of those who have lived and...

The object that had caught Turkey Trot’s eye as he skirted the log-strewn beach was a rowboat that, bumping on the beach now and then as if in a futile attempt to drive itself a...

Did she? The supreme thrill of a born fisherman, that which comes from seeing one’s line shoot out sweet and clean, telling of a bass on the hook, had come to her but three time...

That night, just as the clock was striking twelve, an interesting company gathered in Petite Jeanne’s parlor. The lady cop was there. So, too, was Sun-Tan Tillie. Minus her fade...

Florence had not lost herself in the forest. Though she had not the slightest notion what shore she stood on at the time she brought the gypsy child back to life, she experience...

The sun was high when Florence and Tillie woke on the island where for a time they were Crusoes. Their first thought was of food. To Tillie, Goose Island was no unknown land. Sh...

The tale the gypsy woman had to tell was as astonishing as it was fascinating. As we have said, told in her halting speech, it was long. Florence’s face showed her consternation...

There were dark looks on many faces as the story of the kidnapping of the two girls and the atrocious attempt at their lives spread about the village. The native population of t...

Petite Jeanne was quite content. She had started to read a long French novel. There was a box of bonbons by her side, and plenty of wood for the fire.

For Florence, the days that followed were filled with glorious adventure. The wind, the sun, the forest and the water of that north country have moods for every hour. Florence,...

“They went fishing, she and Sun-Tan Tillie,” she said to Tico, the bear. “One does not fish at night, unless it is for bull-heads. And who wishes for bull-heads? Bah! They are l...

An hour passed and still two dark spots, like markers for a gill net, rose above the waves. The moon, rising higher and higher, brought out more distinctly the ragged tree line...

The following day the weather was threatening. Dark clouds came rolling down from the north. The biting chill they brought told that they had journeyed far, from the very shores...

That evening Florence, reposing on an affair of white birch and pillows that was half chair and half couch, lived for a time in both the past and the future.

They made a trail in the water, the two girls, one who swam and one who drifted after. The trail was short. It appeared to begin at nothing and end nowhere. The moon painted it...

Next day Florence made a new friend. Petite Jeanne wished to spend the morning, which was damp and a trifle chilly, among the cushions before the fire. Florence went for a rambl...

That evening Florence received a shock. The night before they had, through no purpose of their own, been thrown for an hour or two into the company of the young recluse who live...

A dull red glow met her eyes. Like a flash she knew. She and Tillie had started their second night on Goose Island. The red glow was their camp fire, burned low. She had been as...

In the meantime, in the far-away Northland, there was great commotion within one small cottage. Tillie had received Florence’s message. She had read it over twice before showing...

“Then we should go for it at once. The wind is rising. It is offshore. The boat will drift across the bay. I have a rowboat. Perhaps you would do well to come with me. It will b...

In the meantime, accompanied by the lumbering bear, Petite Jeanne had followed a narrow way that led to the heart of the forest. At first her way was along a grass-grown road th...

Petite Jeanne’s one big night was at hand. Already the shadows were growing long in her modest little sitting room. To-night, for one brief hour at least, she was to be an actre...

“Look at this cabin!” The lady cop’s voice was filled with consternation as she spoke. Florence and Tillie could only stand and stare. The lady cop’s room was a wreck. She had g...

Petite Jeanne reached the theatre. She was quite alone. She entered at the stage door unnoticed. A chill numbed her being as the shadowy hallway leading to the dressing rooms en...

Tillie thought a moment. Then once more she crept forward toward the bobbing prow. Once there, she gripped the boat’s gunwale, reached far forward, then set her teeth in the str...

Arrived at the cabin, Florence hurried into her bathing suit. All the time she was changing she was thinking: “I only hope those minnows are still there. Tillie promises to beco...

The following night found Florence seated on the after deck of a large lake steamer bound for Chicago. Strange and varied were the thoughts and emotions that stirred her soul as...

Once more their boat grounded silently. This time, instead of finding herself left behind, the girl felt a pull at her arm and saw a hand in the moonlight beckon her on.

That evening, while the sky was still pink and the water changing from blue to purple and then to gold, Florence went for a row alone. She wanted to think. The events of that da...