Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1912)

MAKING GOOD 11 he told the man the reason of his being a wanderer from home. ' ' Huh ! ' ' grunted the other. ' ' You 're lucky to get your lesson while you're young." The girl, came in, and shyly approached Tom. "Here is something that was in your hand when I found you," she said, tendering his ring. "Oh, thank you! I am so glad I didn't lose it! So it was you who found me and played the Good Samaritan ? ' ' ' ' She sure did, ' ' answered the man for her. ■ ' Becky 's my gal — I 'm Frank Bourke, foreman of the oil works near by — and if I do say it, she did a mighty smart thing." When she found you she was out for a horseback ride, and so she gets down and sees you're dead to the world. So what does she do but take a piece of old fencing, about the size of a field gate, and lug you on to it somehow. Then she tied her lariat to it, and made the horse drag you up to the house here. Purty good for a gal, eh ? " he chuckled. "Oh, pa!" expostulated the girl, dimpling with embarrassment. It was at that moment that Tom discovered that he adored dimples. "Miss Bourke has put me under very heavy obligations," declared Tom, striving to catch a glance from under her lowered lids. "We dont talk about obligations in this part of the world," said Mr. Bourke. "We're rough and ready, and we've got the helping hand out to any one that needs it. You're welcome to stay here till you're well. So dont worry that bunged-up head about obligations." In a couple of days Tom was well enough to walk about. He was standing on the porch when Frank Bourke came out of the house, on his way to the oil fields. »"Well, how's the health today?" asked the foreman, cheerfully. "Too good for me to be doing nothing," answered Tom. "Mr. Bourke, isn't there something I can do over there?" 1 ' D 'you mean to say you are willing to do any kind of work?" almost gasped the foreman, sizing up the erstwhile rich young idler. "That's exactly what I do mean," answered Tom, eagerly. "Then, come along. I'll find work for you. ' ' As the day advanced, and Tom found himself installed as an assistant to Bourke, his joy was not for any inspiration afforded by the view of the oil field, with its black-ribbed derricks, nor was it for the increasing griminess of his hands and greasiness of his overalls. He followed the foreman about from the drilling operations to the pumps, and from the pumps to the reservoirs, always with one underlying thought, that gave to the barren landscape the delectable attributes of the "Happy Valley," and transformed the chug-chug of the pumps into music. And that was the thought that he Avould not have to leave Becky Bourke. Her smiles and her frank hazel eyes, her berry-brown skin, and the boyish swing of her walk, were delights that he loved to dream of. He wondered if she was glad he was to remain. He wanted to ask her, but he never could find her alone. As the weeks went by he caught himself thinking more and more of the girl, and when, on several occasions, he thought he discovered a tender light in her eyes as they rested on him, his heart leaped with hope. One afternoon, as he worked over one of the pumps, he straightened up suddenly and found Becky looking at him with such ultra-friendly eyes that impulsively he seized a little brown hand and kissed it. She tried, coyly, to draw her hand away, but Tom held it tighter. ' ' Oh, girl ! " he whispered. ' ' I have wanted so to tell you something. I can wait no longer — I'll say it now." He put a finger under her chin, and tilted her face up to his. A heavy step sounded behind him ; he turned, and faced the foreman, who glared at him. "Go home, Becky," said her father. "1 dont want you coming around here." The girl left them instantly. Tom