The Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1913-Jan 1914)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

1 THE LOST MILLIONAIRE 83 pierced it in its most vital point — the words " Josephine Blake" — on his letter-file and turned to the consideration of a proffered telegram. That, too, was pregnant with meaning, yet meaningless. It was from Carter, and ran merely : Advise you to offer one hundred thousand dollars for property. Worth millions. Carter. Yet, far away in Tennessee, one of the most important events in Robert Redwin 's life was taking place without his consciousness. In the sagging doorway of a slab cabin, on the edge of a " crick, ' ' stood a remarkably pretty girl. Lean, longlegged dogs sprawled about her bare feet, and the mountain breeze, with rude, unappreciative fingers, whipped the rough, curly hair about her face and the limp, faded blue gingham about her round young limbs. Without a single artificial adjunct or prop to her wild-flower prettiness, she faced the searching sunshine with unconscious daring, and the eyes of the man climbing the ' ' hoss-path ' ' toward the cabin had no flaw to find in her. Firm, pink flesh, healthy eyes and unworldly smile She was, he reflected greedily, quite untaught and unspoiled by admiration. The rude clowns of mountaineers about her had never touched her heart; it was a virgin, fallow field where a man might raise whatever crop he wished. Moreover, in a few days, if Redwin took his advice, Josephine Blake would be an heiress with one hundred thousand dollars to her name. Carter drew a long breath of decision. He would do it. He jerked the bridle-rein, smiling down at the girl. ' ' Good-morning, Miss Jo ! " he said. "Where is your grandfather this morning ? ' ' "Howdy, stranger?" answered the girl. She raised a bare arm, pointing to the fringe of cottonwoods. ' ' Gran 'pop, he's off thar with his ol' gun, shootin' squerrils, I reckon." Carter jumped down from his horse, tied it to the worm fence and turned to the girl winningly. "Surely not 'stranger' still, Miss Jo?" he reproached her, playfully, "when I've come clear up from the Crossing to ask you to take a walk with me." The girl's clear eyes sought his face, and a something there caused them to fall again uneasily. Yet she did not understand, and nodded. "Ef y'u has come clar up hyar from th ' Crossin ', I reckon I 'd better shack along of y'u," she laughed. Thru the still, dry sunshine they strolled up the hillside, across potato and corn fields, to the woods. As the shadows of the chestnuts laced the girl's gown, Carter suddenly stopped. He took one of the blue cornflowers, that she had gathered on the way, from the bunch in her hands and placed it in her hair. Half-startled, Jo drew back, laughing uneasily under his glowing gaze. "You're all flower, little girl," he said, in a queer breathless way, reaching out and gathering her hands in his. ' ' You dont know how lovely you are, do you?" The heat of his eyes scorched her cheeks a frightened red. She jerked her hands free. ' ' I — I — reckon — y 'u-all is jokin ' — ' ' " No ! " Carter bent over her, his breath on her face. "Haven't you guessed I love you? Haven't you seen? There — there — don't look so troubled ! I know it 's soon to say it, but I cant wait " With a gasp like a wild thing startled from its safe covert, Jo was gone, her bare feet light across the rude ground, her hair wild about her troubled face. The man watched her moodily; then, with a shrug of his shoulders, turned away. That afternoon he was back again, clambering up the path to the cabin, and relieved to see only the old man sitting in the cabin, drowsily skining his morning toll of squirrels and nodding over the cob pipe of his leisure. Carter's mind reread the telegram in his pocket swiftly : Buy at price you made. Will send check tomorrow. Robert Redwin.