The willows and cottonwood trees were beginning to look forlorn as they stood reaching their long slender branches skyward, as if in prayer, asking for the fleecy white blanket of snow to fall and cover their nakedness, for only here and there upon them was left a golden brown or scarlet leaf, On the ground were heaps of brightly colored autumn leaves, in which little twisting whirlwinds came to play, sometimes taking a bunch of them high into the air.

Laura Mae had watched each day's mail, anxiously, but no letter came from her lover. She began to fear that her father was playing a cruel joke by keeping her letters from her. She had talked to Maria Beckman, who said Gene asked about her in his last letter and wondered why he had only one letter from her. She had written to him several times and had mailed them without her father knowing about them. She remembered Philip when she went in to post her last letter to Gene. She must have hurt him terribly that night when she sent him away. He had no smile for her as he handed her the mail, then he quickly dropped his eyes and did not look up at her again while she was in the office. "He need not act like that," she thought, "I have never encouraged him to care for me in the least!" Little did she dream the real reason for Philip having dropped his eyes that day, there was a heavy, guilty load on his consciousness. After all he had done by opening the one letter, curiosity made him read each one that came to Laura Mae and each one that she mailed out to Gene. He read them all to see if anything new developed in the case or if either, by any chance, suspicioned him.

Gene always brought out that his letter must be getting lost and Laura Mae felt that her father was keeping mail from her. She would hate him more than ever if she found out that he was doing such a thing! She could not believe that he had read any of them or he would know that she was married and she knew very well that if he knew that, he would burst forth with some mean comment, especially, after he had refused to give his consent to their marriage. He must not know, she concluded, but why had no letter come from Gene? She watched the newspapers closely each day, half fearing that she might see his name among the dead or wounded. Oh, where was her lover now? She would go mad worrying about him if she did not get a letter soon. Letters came regularly from Martha but she never mentioned having seen Gene.

Laura Mae had lain awake most of the night thinking about the war with all of its sorrows. As she was trying hard to go to sleep, she thought of her aunt, Laura May, and knew now how it was to not be able to go to sleep, she thought. The next morning, she felt sleepy and tired as she stood by the stove frying the ham and eggs for breakfast. The sight of them and the odor nauseated her. She had to eat the same kind of breakfast for years, oatmeal mush, ham or home-cured bacon, and eggs with toast and jelly, some times they had pancakes. "Ugh!" She didn't wasn't any breakfast, just the thought of any of it was almost too much for her. She felt that she must get out into the fresh air so she set the food in the warming oven and went to the barn to help her mother carry in the pails of frothy milk. Eli had been feeding and currying his horses. When he had finished, he stepped to the cow stable door to see if his wife was ready to go to the house for breakfast.

"It won't be very long now until winter will be upon us," he commented with ease. It was no new sight for him to see his wife sitting on the old wobbly milk stool, between two Holstein cows, with the smell of manure heavy on the air, or it was not unusual for him to see her in the mucky calf pen skillfully teaching a stubborn calf to drink from a battered pail. When he had married her, he had not meant for her to have to do such jobs, for she was a beautiful girl of refinement, then, much like Laura Mae was now. It made him jealous to think that the younger daughter was so much like her mother, so well liked and beautiful. He wished he could see just one characteristic that was like himself, but he could not. Eli hated to milk cows or to bother with unruly calves so he let his willing wife do those tasks, while he spent unnecessary time grooming his teams, so he would not have to help her.

He spoke again, "We will have to get the pile of wood sawed and split before snow flies, no need to have to buy coal with all these trees cut down, every time I clear a new piece of land, I have another big pile of wood to burn." No one answered him so he continued, "There are no men to hire now with so many in the army, will you be ready to take one end of the saw after breakfast, Clara? He knew well that her answer would be submissively in the affirmative.

Laura Mae looked at her tired work-word mother and her heart ached in sympathy. "Can't I help with the wood?" she asked, turning to her father.

A pleased grin came over his face. "I don't see any reason why you can't. You are young and strong Martha was the girl who used to like to come out and take one end of the saw, just to get to visit with me, she was a fine companion to me, a fine companion," he said. Laura Mae well remembered how Martha chose to go out to help her father, especially on wash days or on days when there was scrubbing to be done.

Being out in the fresh air for a few minutes helped Laura Mae and she managed to eat part of her mush and a piece of toast, but she could not even think f touching the meat or eggs for the sight of them gave her a queer feeling. After breakfast, she put a worn turban on her head and put her arms into the sleeves of her mother's faded green sweater, the September air was chilly. She drew worn canvas gloved over her soft white hands and went out for the first time in her life to help her father saw wood, if Martha and her mother had been able to do it, she was sure she could too, and it would be a rest for her mother to be permitted to remain indoors with just housework to do.

Eli placed a log on the saw-buck and took one handle of the saw, the girl took the handle on the opposite side of the log, and began the monotonous- "Buz, buzz, buz, buzz," back and forth, back and forth, with saw-dust beginning to fly out at each stroke, the work was easy for Eli and he had enough breath to talk while he worked.

"I have asked Philip several times to come and see us but he always has some excuse. He either must be awfully busy or else you must have said something to him that has hurt his feelings. What did you do to him that night he came here for supper?" he questioned.

"Nothing," Laura Mae answered briefly, her breath was beginning to come fast already, as she was not used to jobs that required untiring strength. She clung desperately to the saw and worked with all her might because she knew that her father would scoff at her if she let him know she was getting tired so soon. They sawed for awhile in silence, several blocks were sawed off and rolled aside to be split later. Again, Eli spoke.

"I thought your pretty soldier boy might write to you, but if he does, the letters must happen to come on the days when you call for the mail because none has ever come when I have called for it."

Laura Mae grew pale. Was he deliberately lying to her? She was so sure that Gene had written to her. "Buz-buzz, buz-buzz, buz-buzz, buz-buzz" The chant of the saw was maddening as she clung on trying to keep up with it, she was becoming dizzy. "Oh!" she cried out as everything turned black. The buzzing stopped as she dropped to the ground in a dead faint. Her father picked her up and carried her into the house.

"What happened? Clara asked as she hurried to smooth the covers on the bed before Eli laid the girl down on it.

"Too much for her heart, I guess," he said. "She must be like Aunt Laura May. Always fainting away with heart attacks. It looks like it runs in the family, but it only hits the women folks. You better call Dr. Wenks to come and look her over."

Clara hurried around, she dashed cold water onto Laura Mae's face and found the smelling salts. Soon the girl's long dark lashes lifted slowly and she opened her eyes. She turned to her mother and said, "Oh, I am so sick to my stomach." Clara flew for a basin then held the girl's head.

"There, there." the mother stroked the girl's forehead, gently brushing away back the soft curly hair. "Do you feel better now, dear?" she asked. Laura Mae nodded. Eli went to the phone and called Dr. Wenks to come over to his house. He could test her heart and maybe give her some arsenic if he found it weak like he had given Aunt Laura May the summer before. Then seeing the girl had come out of her fainting spell, he left the house and went into the field on some unplanned errand. He could have taken the one man saw and continued his work with the wood but he did not feel like doing that. He wondered if what he had said about Gene not writing to her had helped to cause the shock to the girl, she had been doing very well before he mentioned the soldered boy. He mused over it.

In the house, Laura Me raised on her elbow for a while, then she sat up in bed.

"Mother, "she said, taking one of Clara's tough red hands in her own soft white ones, "I might as well tell you all about it."

"About what, child?" the woman asked, shaking Laura Mae in her anxiety. "Did your father strike you down?"

"No, Mother, he didn't do anything. I was just working and all of a sudden, everything

"I didn't think you looked right well this morning before you went out and you don't seem to have a very good appetite, I should have not let you help with such hard work but you wanted to and I thought the fresh air would do you good, you stay in the house too much."

"I was all right, only I did not sleep much last night."

"A young girl like you should sleep all night through. Why don't you sleep, Laura Mae, what is worrying you?" Clara's face was anxious.

"I guess it's Gene, Mother," she choked. "I have watched and watched for a letter from him."

"I see, but don't worry, dear, he will write. He is all right; don't Everett and Maria hear from him regularly?"

"Yes, they do, but I want him to write to me, too. Mother, do you remember the day Gene rode down into the field to get Father's consent to marry me?"

"Yes, I do," the mother's eyes had a puzzled look.

"Do you remember that I said if Father if not give his consent, we would be married anyway?" Laura Mae asked.

"My child, you don't mean—You can't mean that you are married?"

"Yes, Mother, we were married in Kingsford before I went to Denver."

"My baby, my baby," Clara sobbed as she crushed her daughter to her and cried, the girl's head against her breast, tears dropped one by one in the mass of curls. Laura Mae's arms encircled her mother and clung about her. Suddenly, Clara straightened and dried her eyes as a thought came to her.

"aura Mae," she said, holding the girl so she could look into the soft brown eyes that were misty with tears, "Is it possible that your sudden illness could be... could be a result of your being married?"

The girl stiffened and stared blankly at the picture of a blue-eyed baby she had cut from a calendar and hung o up by her dressing table. Such a thought had not occurred to her before. Slowly, she brought her eyes back to her mother's face as if in a daze.

"It could be, I guess," she said, scarcely above a frightened whisper.

The rattle of buggy wheels and the rhythmic steps of trotting horses could be heard in the lane. Dr. Wenk's buggy was already hitched so he made the trip in record time. He drove into the yard, then walked toward the house with his medicine case in one hand. With the back of his other hand, he wiped the bottom of his gray-streaked mustache. Laura Mae sat on the edge of the bed, straightening her rumpled hair, while Clara met the old doctor at the parlor door.

The mother explained the case to him. She told about the wood sawing and the fainting spell, then she went on to tell that the girl was married to a boy that was now in the army. The doctor nodded and gave Clara an understanding smile. He went into the bedroom, where he asked Laura Mae several questions in which the calendar was involved and made an examination that affirmed their speculations. Before he left the house, he warned her to be careful about overwork, especially in lifting heavy things and reaching too high if she hung the clothes on the line or if she put up curtains.

He was untying his horses, ready to leave when Eli strode up to the side of the buggy with his pitchfork over his shoulder at its customary angle.

"Good morning, Doctor." He greeted the Dr. Wenks with a broad grin that was ever ready of a stranger whom he liked was near. "How did you find my little girl?"

"Oh, she'll be all right, she will get along just fine," the doctor answered as he climbed into the buggy ready to drive away. "Just don't let her do work as heavy as sawing wood again and you'll be a grandpappy before you know it."

He added the last comment with a chuckle and tapped his horses with the tip of his hat and started toward the gate. "Good day."

Eli stood, amazed, staring at the buggy as it turned and rattled down the lane. What had that doctor meant, "Be a grandpappy before you know it." Suddenly, the cloud in his mind lifted and he remembered that Clara had fainted like that years ago, not long after they were married, before they had even guessed that they were to have a fine son born to them, only to be snatched away again by the cold hand of death. Laura Mae was keeping something from him, he was sure! He turned and hurried into the house, the door to the girl's room closed as he entered the kitchen.

Laura Mae knew her father was angry and that he would not only know that she was secretly married but he would know her physical condition as well for Dr. Wenks would tell him, not knowing there was anything secret about it. Eli pushed the bedroom door open roughly to be met face to face by his wife. He pushed her aside with one sweep of his strong arm, then stood looking down at Laura Mae. His hands were on his hips, his feet were well apart. His jaw was set and he was pale as he always was when he was angry.

"A fine daughter you turned out to be," he snarled down at her. "What have you to say for yourself?"

"Please, Father." Clara went to her husband and tugged at his arm. "Come with me and I will tell you everything. Don't excite her by scolding."

"Excite her?! Bah! It appears that she has invited some excitement, the little hussy!" He turned to Laura Mae. "What did the doctor say ails you? Answer me with your own pretty lips!" He glared down at her as she sat so meek and helpless.

"Father, please don't look at me like that," she begged. "I know I disobeyed you by marrying Gene before he went away, but I have not sinned."

"Have not sinned" he sneered. "Your first duty as a child is obedience to your parents. Married indeed! I can read the lie in your eyes!"

"We are both of age and are lawfully married," she answered simply.

"Show me your marriage license! Can you prove that you are married?"

The girl was bewildered. What had Gene not left the license with her? He did not need it in the army. She looked at her mother, who stood by silent and helpless.

"I have my wedding ring here and the check and pearls he gave for the wedding presents." She went to her trunk and took out her personal belongings. She held out the little band of gold for her father's inspection.

"Humph!" he grunted. "A fine imitation for a real thing, the ten cent stores carry pretty little things, a nice toy to have about." He tossed it lightly onto the dressing table as he would have thrown down a useless bent nail in his workshop.

"What else have you to show?" he asked in his ugly tone.

"Here are my pearls and a check—" she began.

"A check, well, well! I did not know the pretty boy had a banking account, a bogus check, no doubt." He took it and examined it carefully, then added, "This is made out to Laura Mae Porter, not Laura Mae Whitmer, so you sold your virtue for a piece of paper, supposed to be worth a hundred dollars." He scoffed at her. "This a fine reward I get for trying to raise you up in a Christian manner." He turned back to Clara. "And you have known this about her and try to shield her guilt by pretending that you believe that she is married, why she has had no chance to have gotten married. How long have you believed this?"

"She told me everything just before the doctor came," Clara answered, hoping that it was all a nightmare and that she would presently wake up and find that she had been sleeping.

"If you had known before and had kept it from me, I would have choked you!" His eyes flashed angrily and his fists were clenched tightly. "I would rather see a girl of mine in the grave, having died an honorable death than to see her sink so low as to sell her virtue for money! From now on, wife, we have only one child, living. Laura Mae, take your dirty money and your pearls and go! My house shall not be disgraced by your presence any longer. You have proven yourself unworthy of this home!"

"No, no!" Clara begged him, but opposition always made him more determined than ever, in whatever move he decided to make. He stood firm as an animal tamer would have stood in a cage of lions. He looked at his watch.

"I'll go hitch the buggy. There is just enough time to catch the ten o'clock train out of here. Pack your things and be ready! I'll not have people know that you have willfully disobeyed me." He commanded.

Clara ran to Laura Mae and seized her in her arms. "My baby, my baby," she walked, tears welling up into her eyes. She straightened as if some dormant power awakened in her and she turned upon her husband.

"You sacrilegious beast!" she screamed at him. "You dare call yourself a Christian? As if you are guiltless enough to cast the first stone at your own flesh and blood!"

"Shut up! That is enough from you, she is as much as you as she can be."

He held his clenched fists above Clara, insane with rage, "I'll take the horsewhip to both of you if you don't step around here and get her things packed." He stomped his way out of the back door, slamming it hard behind him.

Laura Mae's eyes were dry. Her pride had been injured beyond words. She went to the clothes closet and took out her suitcase and laid it open, then began gathering her things to pack them,

Clara took hold of her arm. "You can't go the way you are! Where would you go? Who would take care of you?"

"I would rather go anywhere than to stay here with anyone so insane as he is. I would not stay now if he should turn around and beg me on his bended knees. I have often threatened, in my own mind, to leave home. Only my love for you, Mother, has kept me here. I only wish you would come with me." Laura Mae had had enough of the man who called himself her father.

"But my little girl, you don't realize what is before you. you won't be able to work your way long."

"I will not stay here now after the way he has insulted me," the girl began.

"If you insist on leaving, go to your Aunt Laura May and tell her your story. She had a disappointment in life that will make her quick to understand. Darling girl, I know you are innocent, I had even told you to let your heart be your guide, but I did not think it would turn out this way." Clara sobbed; her chin was quivering beyond control. The mother's heart must have broken again as it had been so many times before.

"I will be all right, Mother, I have had business training and I can do housework, too. I will be able to earn money someway. I will go to Auntie as a last resort, but she is not well now and I would be afraid to upset. Don't worry about me, please. I will write to you as soon as I am located and I will keep you posted on how I feel. Someday, Father will be sorry for what he has said and done to me. I could go and live with Gene's uncle and Maria, but I would still be near enough for him to tantalize me. I have tried so hard to not hate him, Mother."

She wiped away a tear and picked up the little gold band from the dressing table and slipped it onto her slender ring finger, then went on with her packing, Two large suitcases would be all that she would take with her, she packed her less important belongings into her trunk for father would surely not throw it out. Clara went to the cupboard in the kitchen and took from a high shelf, a cracked vase. In it, she had kept all of the money she received from eggs sold to tourists that had stopped. Eli knew nothing about this or she would have had to turn it over to him. She had saved fifteen dollars, these she slipped into Laura Mae's purse. It was all she had to give, for Eli handled all the money.

The parting with her mother had been much sadder than when Martha had said goodbye and left her home to risk her life amid enemy's shots and shells. Clara felt that she might lose her mind from all the grief she was forced to bear, but she must carry on, for her girl would need her in the near future, she was sure.

No word was spoken during the ride to the station. The air was sultry and Laura Mae felt as though it would choke her. The scenes she had always loved so much were all a blur to her. They reached the depot only a few minutes before train time. Eli set er baggage out of the buggy and pulled five twenty-dollar greenbacks from his pocket. They were some of the many bills that he had locked in his metal safety box at home.

"Where's that check? Take this for it and buy your ticket to where ever you please!" He did not want anyone else to cash it and see that Eugene Whitmer was financing a daughter of his.

Laura Mae opened her purse rather reluctantly, she noticed the new shining dollars there and knew what her dear mother had done, then she looked at her father's cold expressionless face as she handed him the check and took the currency in exchange for it. She hated to give in and do that, but she realized that she might find it hard to cash a check among strangers.

"Sinful money," Eli muttered, as he tore up the check before the girl's very eyes. She felt like flying at him and clawing his eyes out. The check was honest money and if she had known he would have acted like that she would have died before she would have let him touch his fingers to it. The train whistled not far down the track. No one was at the station but the clerk who was too busy in his office to notice what was taking place outside. Laura Mae was grateful for this for it anyone had seen how her father climbed into the buggy and drove away without even saying goodbye to her or waiting to see her safely on the train, they would have known that there was something wrong. She rushed in and bought a ticket to Kingsford. The sweetest memories she had were of Kingsford and the one perfect day she had spent there with Gene. Perhaps the little city would be kind to her now in time of need.

***

On the way back home, Eli met Maria Beckman driving to the store for groceries, she hailed him and in her broad Scandinavian way, she said, "Vell, Mr. Porter, how you bane?"

"Fine, thank you, how are you?" he said, grinning.

"I am vell, tank you, too. How are the vife and Marta? Do you hear often from her?"

"Yes, we get letters regularly from her," he said. "How is Gene?" Here was a chance to satisfy his curiosity.

"He is vell, he asks about Lora Mae. How is she?" Eli thought fast and gave the first answer that came to his mind. "I just took her to the train," he explained. "The call to war was too great for a spirited young girl like Laura Mae to be able to resist it. She's gone to join the Red Cross the same as Martha did."

"Vell, vell, so she is gone," she said as she started her horses. If she waited longer she was sure she would have to cry right in front of Eli Porter, she could not bear to think of the pretty Laura Mae going to war where maybe a German bomb might kill her. It was awful, she would tell Everett and he could use his own judgment about whether he told the news to Gene or not.

The story Eli had told Maria was very different from the one he told Dr. Wenks two days later when the doctor asked how Laura Mae was feeling. To the doctor, he explained that his sister in Denver was very lonesome and as the girl needed a rest and a change from farm life, he had sent her to live with his sister for a while. He had come to hope in his mind that that was where Laura Mae would decide to go. He told Clara the stories he had told and warned her not to contradict them for the community must not know the truth about Laura Mae having turned out bad.