With the passion and entreaty of one who loved, she argued, but he steadily persisted in his resolve. He gently drew her arms from about his neck. She made one final appeal.
“Wait, Bob!” she pleaded. “Let me go into the house and get last night’s paper. I’m sure that there wasn’t any—any murder headline on it.” And she darted from the stable.
Her mother, busy in the kitchen, glanced up in surprise at the flushed cheeks and excited eyes of the girl.
“What in the world——” she began, but Dora interrupted.
“Where is last night’s paper, mother?” she asked.
“On the sitting-room table, I think,” Mrs. Whately replied.
Dora hurried from the room. The paper was not on the sitting-room table, and she searched frantically about the room. Finally she found it, half hidden under a pillow on the lounge, where her father had left it the evening before. Spreading out the first page, she read:
MURDOCK TESTIFIES.
Iron King Goes Before Congressional Committee.
Nowhere on the page was Reynolds’ name mentioned. She hurriedly rustled over page after page, until at last, on one of the sporting pages, she discovered a small paragraph commenting on his poor pitching of the day previous. Paper in hand, she sped back to the barn. Reynolds was not in sight.
“Bob!” she called softly; but received no answer.