The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, November 3, 1928, Page 8

Te . Red Olaf . . . stood six feet four in his bools, the sea in his eyes, hairy chest bared to the ocean spray. they called him, because of his haw, though why hair the color of marigolds should be called red is more than anyone knows. It grew on his head in a thick, unruly shock, and on the backs of his hands. And_ it blossomed in peculiar tufts on his knuckles. Great rawHoned knuckles. After the murder at Bloody Gutty, men said one could tell Red Olaf was a killer by the looks of him, though before that people had thought him harmless enough. He stood six feet four in his boots, and if fisherfolk had a mind for romance, they'd have thought he looked like a Norwegian god, with the sun in his hair and the sea in his eyes, and his big, hairy chest bared to the ocean's spray. Beside great Red Olaf, Anethe Ingerbredsen seemed pale as a lily, and frail. For she was pallid among her sturdy kinswomen, like a fair anemone in a marsh of hardy cowslips. Anethe, like Red Olaf and the rest, had come from the north. Why, of all places in the world, they had chosen Bloody Gutty, God only knew —and He, perhaps, was puzzled. For Bloody Gutty is a desolate and hungry island ten miles out at sea, off the New England coast. Connected by breakwaters with Moon Island, where ste lighthouse is, and Cassiopeia, where only sea birds live. A full two miles from White Gull, where a man, within the recollection of the living, built a castle on a ledge; and came away and left it, because he could not bear the terrible sound of the sea in his ears at night. There stands today, as there stood then, one house on Bloody Gutty. A dingy house, gray as the mist that blows from the sea. Near it are two large lilac bushes; these and a well—which has a ghastly part in the story—these and noth- ing more. Down to the sea, from the summit where the gray house stands, stretch the dunes. And all around it, buried in sand and coarse beach grass, are the foundation stones of old houses, and the graves of ‘hose who built them. N THE night of the murder, there was the lightkeeper’s family on Moon Island, and never a soul on Cassiopeia nor White Gull. At Bloody Gutty, in the old gray house, lived jorge Ingerbredsen and his wife, Astrid, with jorge’s brother Peder, and his wife Ulla. Six months before, the two couples had been joined by Anethe, sixteen-year-old sister of the Inger- bredsens. Now Astrid and Ulla were middle-aged women, melancholy with seeing tl husbands go down to the sea in ships. They hated the gulls, and they hated the ocean. i ig Then Anethe came, and the shrouding mists mocked them more and more. For e was young as they were old, and more beautiful than they had ever been. Her eyes were like lush bluebells dimmed with dew, and her cheeks soft as roses. The Ingerbredsens were fishermen, setting trawls in the waters about Bloody Gutty, and selling their fish in Windham, 10 miles away. Sometimes Red Olaf jorked with them and i occasionally, in the old gray house that stood between the lilac bushes. Ll IS 20 years since Red Olaf hung. Red, dreamed, as pale girls do, of the amorous tyranny and the crushing arms of a big red man. And all the while Red Olaf followed her about like a moon-struck yokel. Until the Ingerbredsen brothers, taking counsel with Astrid and with Ulla, found another man to help them with their trawls. Then Red Olaf sailed away on the fishing schooner, Kristen—and, strangely, it was Astrid who seemed to miss him most of all. Christmas night there was a terrific storm off the New England coast, and the Kristen was damaged, and put into Windham for repairs. She was there for three months. while Red Olaf idled in the town, restless and ill at ease, One day Olaf sat on the wharf and whittled, and saw the Ingerbredsens sailing into port. The thrifty brothers had risen with the dawn—a cold, gray dawn on Bloody Gutty—and drawr. their trewls, and come to Windham to sell their fish, and get bait which was coming by train from Boston. Red Olaf greeted them from the wharf. “Bait’s not coming in ‘til midnight,” be told them. ‘‘Guess you won't get home tonight.” Peder asked him to help them with their work, and he agreed. Then, three times before sunset, Red Olaf asked the brothers if they were going back to the island that day. As a matter of fact, the bait did not arrive until very late, and Peder and Jorge spent the remaining hours of the night at work on their trawls, looking more than once for the shiftless Olaf. Nobody could find him. At the foot of Salmon Way, a fisherman left his dory at supper time. When he had eaten his supper and returned for the boat, it was gone. Red Olaf had taken it to row to Bloody Gutty. Ten miles on a winter’s sea, with the night full of snow, and the wind shriekthg like a demon gone mad in the marshes. IHE. three women were alone on the island. Alone save for Ulla’s little dog, Jan. It was midnight. White, and cold, and frightening. Jan, on Anethe’s couch in the kitchen, barked. Had Jan seen some dark figure peering in at the frosty window? Or smelled the great Red Olaf, stinking of fish and rum? Ulla, in her bed up- stairs, cried out: “Peder, is that you?” And Anethe, shivering, drew the little dog beneath the covers, and answered stleepily: “Peder frightened me.” So that Ulla, expecting her husband, explored the icy place beside her tentatively, to warm it for her man. But as she shifted the warmth of her big soft body, there came a horrible sound from the kitchen. Anethe’s voice, high and shrill. And the great deep bass of a roaring man. A crash. And a muffled sound. And glass splintering into fragments. Blows on blows, and a woman's scream for pity. “Jesus! Jesus. . . . Mercy!” Ulla ran to the door, and as she opened it, Astrid, bloody as a butcher, fell across the threshold. Then Ulla, tortured with horror and fright, ran down stairs to the kitchen. The room was dark, and Ulla felt her way, holding her hands before her face. Anethe’s bed was empty. Ulla clutched at the bedclothes. And her fingers closed on a fisherman's jacket. She turned from the couch, and stumbled toward the mantel. There were matches and a lamp there. As she reached she stepped on something soft. Her match flickered in the darkness. And at her feet she saw pale Anethe, her flaxer hair in a crimson pool. Anethe in her white nightgown. On the stove was an ax, dripping blood, and wound with a strand of golden hair—the ax that had been used that day to break the ice at the well. And Ulla saw a jaunty cap with gold braid and brave brass buttons—Red Olat’s cap, on the floor where Anethe lay. Then Ulla opened her mouth and emitted fear- ful sounds, and fell to her knees, groveling in pale blood and gnawing at her blood-soaked raid. Astrid, while this horrible thing was happen- ing in the kitchen, looked from her bedroom win- dow, and saw a man skulking across the dunes. And she knew him for Red Olaf. Then she threw a flannel petticoat about her shoulders and fled from the carnage into the night. She ran at first to the hen house, to hide in a cellar beneath that, but blind terror held her back. She knew that Olaf would hunt for her all through the buildings, and that Jan would bark. And Olaf did. They found his footprints next day where he had tramped back and forth, evnging the bloody ax. There were drops of blood in the snow where they splashed from the blade, like crimson polka dots on a white dress. Blindly Astrid ran—on and on. Jae the cemetery that made her blood run cold. Break- ing through the crusty snow. Scratching her aie on the bare stubble of prickly vines and bushes. In the rocks near the ocean she for reluae. And, clasping Jan to her breast, waited for the dawn. ACK in the old gray house a light burned. Olaf had returned to the slaughter. Then Astrid held Jan closer, and ran like acrazy woman. And when she reached the house she tiptoed like a mad sleuth to the window, and peered through the frosty pane. And the sight she saw haunted her all the days of her life. For Red Olaf knelt in the candle light and cradled Anethe’s head in his big, red arms. And Astrid, There siends 06, Blgody Galix, one dinay faiue t Deca aris well from handcuffs. gray as the mist that blows from which has.a ghastly part of- the story. ct TUAUTE ACTA mT Ih. der at Bloody Gutty with her living eyes, saw him kiss the bleeding roses of the dead girl’s wounds. At seven o'clock workmen from Windham ar- rived at Moon, to make repairs on the breakwater there. And Astrid, her feet frozen, stumbled to the nearest point where she could call to them and signal for help. Her face was covered with blood. Her hair was full of hoar frost and gore, and she screamed like a maniac. The keeper of the lighthouse took her to Moon, where his wife gave her care. And then, calling the laborers together, returned with guns, to see if Red Olaf was anywhere about. At half-past seven that morning Red Olaf re- turned to his boarding house in Windham. Emma Blake, the daughter of his landlady, said: that he looked as if he had been out all night, and joked him, after the fashion of young women in sailors’ lodging houses. To her consternation he broke into tears. T NINE o'clock he tock a train for Boston, arriving in that city at noon, and going im- mediately to the water front. It was in Olaf's mind to ship to the ends of the earth, But he sought in vain for 4 vessel. All day he wan- dered up and down Atlantic avenue, and at eve- ming, cursing his luck, meandered ito a sailors’ boarding house, and Ruby, the buxom barmaid, tweaked his ear, and called him by his name. Then Red Olaf, who had shaved his full red beard that day, drew himself up, and protested: TM By ELEANOR EARLY lustrations By GEORGE CLARK — ham by train, handcuffed to the wrists of two deputies. And when they reached the little city eby the sea, where the fishermen ply their trade, 10,000 people turned out, and tried to rush the officers and seize the prisoner for vengeance. T ALL the stations along the way a hooting mob had gathered, and there were cries of “Kill him!” “Lynch him!” “Burn him alive!” So that, when they came to Windham, the depyties drew their guns, and the whole po- lice force provided escort to the county jail. while marines from the Navy Yard pressed back the mob with their bayonets. For tales had reached Windham ot pale Anethe’s snow-white body, and the way it lay on the kitchen floor, with her flaxen braids in Ulla’s bloody mouth, and her shining head all battered and horrible to look upon. horrible that her brothers swooned when they gazed upon her, and Peder, husband of Ulle, had gone out of his head Ku ren Red Olaf offered scant defense. He denied all knowledge of the crime, and proffered a flimsy alibi for proof. He swore that on the night of the murder he had been in Windham, sleeping on the floor of a downstairs room in his lodging house. But the room in which Olaf said he slept was locked that night. Then there were bruises on his knuckles. Olaf surveyed them soberly. ‘‘I got them putting some boxes of fish into a cart,” he said. “‘A man asked As Ulla reached, she stepped on something soft. aos “Tam afraid, Miss,” said, “that you are mistaken.” 7 Ruby laughed. : “Have it your own way,” she offered good-naturedly. ‘‘Only a girl like me don’t forget a man like you,” and she. gave him a sideways glance. Then Red Olaf admitted his identity. “You look awful bad,” remarked, pour- ing him whisky solicitously. “T feel fierce,” he admitted, tossing off the drink with scant courtesy. And, unmindful of Ruby's crude coquetries, he lounged against the set and ordered another. “Make it stiff, old girl Then she poured him another—and another. "Gee. up, Olaf!” she cried, “and I'll come see you : And, shortly, Olaf lumbered off—and Ruby scuttled after. In the little room under the eaves Ruby found him. And there Red Olaf, sick with the thought of pale Anethe, repulsed the girl. Until, hot from his red arms, Ruby cursed and left him. beneath her ‘skirt she hid his bloodstained shirt. So that, when they put Red. Olaf on trial for his life, Ruby produced the bloody. shirt iher testimony helped to con- vict the man, To to the gallows. : .was his, and tried it on in court. And the wrist- bands’ appeared to be te small to button. But prosecuting attorne’ 14 le pris- oner’s: wrists were swollen “They took him to Wind- (Cepyright, 1928, NBA Magasine) AN ry Te Her match flickered in the darkne: feet she saw pale Anethe, her flaxen hair in a crimson pool. larkness at: her for a stranger—about 900. hooks. him until nearly 10 o'clock. On the way home he “commenced. feeling bad,” and the comer of ' Mi for half an hour or more. Then wi he was sick again, an ie th before he staggered on to his jouse. f Shortly after daylight he went, out again, vad, aad rane the wha i at half-past seven. After this he walked down- town, and hearing a train whistle. asked a man where that train was going. The man said, joston. f There was ating delay him. So Olaf swung aboard. And the next we know of him he is drinking in-Boston, and joshing Ruby. ‘STRID INGERBREDSEN was natu- ally the chief witness against him. Red Olaf . with Astrid ‘was_confron and her hus- band as he sat in his cell at Windham. Aes Astrid | him, and bursting ‘into tears, turned Awad utoublines ‘Olaf looked at her: steadily, and when she shuddered from him, he remarked quietly: “I am glad Jesus loves TSP devil loves soul" ied Jonge Ingest sought to ell hi “instructed the to lution. Tell him that.I put my, trust in‘God and His Holy Mother.” .To the; Virgin Mary Olaf offered all. his prayers. ie : : -“Aneéthe ~was ‘a virgin,” he told his guard, “(Be Fi ae tlead Racin tte Alas, gates o! om wi A ‘soul sought’ hea: MUA ATMA A ST f + given them t ing. For that was surely ber, in the kitchen but a couch in the corner, where Red Olaf had slept when he visited the old gray house. Astrid and Ulla went upstairs, having heated bricks first to warm their lonely beds. And they left Anethe in the kitchen, ing her golden hair, and humming a Norwegian lullaby. Tt was two hours later—the house was very oe Astrid heard sounds in the kitchen. Then Astrid put her bare feet on the floor, and “ities in her cotton nightgown, crept down stairs. And there were screams... / And blood... . And Red Olaf standing there. . . . And pale Anethe beasing mercy. Astrid fainted on the stand. N THE second day of the trial the jury went out. They deliberated for 55 min- utes. And they found Red Olaf guilty of murder in the first degree. . ptcntars had been itohltereenad Mare im. were the great, listers on hi: hands, For Red Olaf had that night. n be in his wallet they had found a little silver medal. Anethe's medal, Astrid said it was—tied with the blue ribbon of a daughter of Mary. And the scapular Anethe wore on her nightgown, em- broidered with a bleeding heart. Anethe’s blood stained the crimson silken threads. When they asked Olaf where he got the things, he = head, and said Anethe had io him. But men knew he lied, for why should ‘a pale girl like Anethe give such things to a great red man like Olaf, with no piety in his heatt. But only lust for slim, white girls. ee professed to believe that a miracle would take place. “Tf people put me on the gallows, with the rope around my neck, Anethe will save me,” he said. And that. of course, was foolish, for when they strung him up, the: iracle.. And Red Olaf hung by his neck for eight hours, lest happen in the old limerock quarry properly end. But tarry awhile with Astrid and with Jorge. After the trial, Jorge moved their belongings Lise ote ppoe vaiicedapang rovers tfaarig) ila would never again set on Gutty.” And they lived in Wi H reled. And Jo ried again, a woman named Annie. Pi that Astrid was daft—and that forge for the thing he did. “Then Astid to the old country. And this autumn, when Aaron’s rods in the forest clearings began to bloom, Astrid wan- dered to a steep hill where the flowers grow in masses all over the round, gray tree’ stumps. And ga! h them, she sat in the- moss, held them in her lap, looking out rz = gee SPEREr : isi eelattine tf a | ALLA A ‘az ARAN AR Ac .