New Britain Herald Newspaper, January 14, 1922, Page 9

THE SNOWSHOE TRAIL BY. EDISON M (Little, Brown & Co. and N. E, A, Bervice) (Continued From The battle was short thereafteh. Harold was never a match for Bill, The latter's hard flats lashed into his face, blow after blow with grim re- ports In the silence. Harold's resist- ance ceased; his body quivered and lay still. Remembering Virginia. Bill leaped to his fect, But Harold was not quite uncon- scious, But one Impulse was left— to escape; and dumbly he crawled to the door. No weapon remained in his hand, “I'll get you yet, you davill" he| screamed, almost incoherently, “I'l] lay In walt and kill you—you can't get away!" And out he staggered, “Virginla,” Bill called., “Where are you?" . From the dark, far end of the cabin ‘he heard the answer—a volce low and tremulous such as {s some- times heard from the lips of a sick child, “Here I am, Bill,” she replied, “I'm hit with a stray shot.” XXvII, groped his way to Virginia's it Issue), BiN side, His hands told him she was lying huddled against the wall, a slight, pa- thetlc figure that broke the heart within the man. He knelt beside her, then felt for a match, But before he struck the match he remembered his foe without; he would be quick to fire through the window if a llght showed him his tar- get. Even now he might be crouched in the snow, his rifle in his arms, waiting for just this chance. Bill snatched a blanket from the cot, shielded them with it, and light- ed the match behind it. “He can’'t see the light this,” he told her. He groped for the fallen candle, fighted it, and held it close. *You'll have to look and see yourself, Vir- ginla,” he told her. “You remember— of course—'" Yes, she remembered his blindness. She looked down at the little stain of red on her left shoulder, “I can't tell,”” she told him. went in right here—give A me _hand.” She took his warm hand and rested it against the wound. Someway, it comforted her. ‘“Close to the top of the shoulder, then,” he commented. “But there's nothing I can do—it's not a wound I can dress. It's cleaner now than anything we've got to clean it with. The only thing is to lic still —s0 It won’t bleed.” “Do you think I'll die?"” she asked him quietiy “I don't think the wound is serious in itself—if we could get you down to a doctor,” he told her. “It isn't bleeding much now, because you are lying still, but it has been bleeding pretty freely. It's just a:flesh wound, really, But you see—'" Her+~mind leaped at once to his thought. “You meah-—it's the same, either/way?"” she questioned. “It means: deathi-that's all it means. I don’t care on my own ac- count—"' “Then don’t care on mine, either.” All at once her hand went up and caressed his face. ‘“Hold me, Bill, won't you?" she asked. ‘“Hold me in your arms.” The man’s arms tightened around her. He lowered his lips close to hers. “I love you.” She drew his head down and down until her own lips halted the flow of his words. *And I love you, Bill,” she told him. ‘“No one but you.” Only once during the night did Bill leave her to cover the crack of the door and build tp the fire. When he returned, her warm little flood of Kkisses was as iIf he had been absent for weary hours. But her thoughts had been busy, even in this moment. All at once she drew his ear close to her lips. “Bill, will you listen to me a min- ute?” she asked. & “Listen! I'll listen to every word—" “I think I know the way—at least a fighting chance—to life and safety.” XXVIIL ) “Everything depends first,”” Virginia said, “whether or not you can crawl through the little window of the cabin.” Bill remembered his experience in the smoke-filled hut and he Kkissed her, whispering that would be easy. “The next thing—are Harold's snowshoes in this room?"” “So it depends on Harold, does it? I believe his snowshoes are here. Har- old left rather hurriedly—and I don't think he took them.” “What everything depends on—is getting out. The longer we stay here, without food, the more certain death is. I know I can’t walk and you can’t see. BIill, Harold is waiting, right now ——probably in the little cabin where he sleeps—for a ghance to get those shoes. He's helplesgwithout them. As soon as it gets light enough for him to see, I want you ta go out the cabin door. Turn at once into the brush at your 'right, so he can’t shoot you with the rifle. Then come around to the side of the cabin and re-enter through the window. “The moment he thinks you are gone, he'll come—not only to get his snowshoes but to gloat over me’ I know him now! I can't understand why I didn’t know him before. And then—we've got to take him by sur- prise.” “And then—7" Quickly, with few words, she told him the rest of her plot. Harold wal'ked into the trap set by Virginia. “I'm coming for my snowshoes, Virginia,” he told her. “Then I'm go- ing to go away.” He tried to draw his battered, bloody lips into a smile. “Come in and get them,” she re- plied. Her voice was low and life- through “t your ARSHALL door, And then s A he uttered a curf. “Now!" she called sharpl Py A :;:l:n n(o l|lmn lInr Harold loI ‘:nrt h’n‘ntwl:‘ o be alarmed, A n ! dm;crndml upon his I:n‘ly4nmuy ferce n less than a minute ol ute he was bound “God, what are you gof to'mn'!" he asked, JEIasE ‘Why, Harold, you are to be our little truck horse,” Virginia replied, as she handed Bil' more thongs, “You are going to pull the sled and show the way down into Bradleyburg.” XXIX, When the dawn came full and bright over Clearwater, Bill and his party were ready to start, When Harold had heen thoroughly cowed and his full instructions given him, the thongs had been put about his ankles and removed from his wrists, and he was permitted to do the packing. That procedure was exceedingly simple; all avallable blankets were piled on the sled and made Into a bed for Virginia, and the ax, candles, and such cooking utensils as were needed were packed in front. And then they had a short but decisive in- terwew with Harold. “I won't go—I'll die first,” he cried to Virginia. ‘‘Besides, you don't dare to use force on me; you don't know the way and Blll can't see. You know it you kill me you'll die yourself.” “Falr enough,” Virginia replied sweetly.. “But take just this little word of advice. BIill and T were all reconciled to dying whén we thought of you—and we won't mind it now if we're sure you are going along. And Bill wlll tell you that I can shoot straight, Perhaps you learned that fact last night.” They lengthened the thong that tied his ankles together, giving him room for a full walking step but not enough to leap or run. They put on his hands a pair of awkward mittens that had been stiff- ened by mud and water, and lashed them to his wrists. Then they slipped the thong of the sled across his shoulders and under his arms like the loopus of a kyack. They were ready to go. “I haven’t much hope,” Bill Virginia when she was tucked the bed on the sled. “But it's only chance we have.” She smiled at him. “At least, Bill, we'll have done everything we could. Goodby, little cabin—where I found happiness. ' Sometime, perhaps, we'll come back to you!" The man bent and kissed her, and she gave the word for Harold to start. L C At the end of three bitter days, Bill Bronson stood once more on the hill that looked down upon Bradleyburg. The twilight was growing in the glen beneath; already it had cast shadows in Virginia's eyes. She sat beside him on the sled. It had been cruel hardship, the three days' journey. But fortune had played them well in this—they had found the food Vosper abandoned. Virginia was on the rapid road to- ward recovery from her wound. = It had not been severe; while she was lying still on the sled it had had every chance to heal. Bill's sight had grown steadily bet- ter as the days had passed; already the Spirits of Mercy had permitted him, at close range, to behold Vir- ginta's face. A half-mile back, just before they approached the first fringe of the spruce forest, they had met a trapper just starting out on his line; and he had gladly consented to take Harold the rest of the way into town. He was to be lodged in prison to face a charge of attempted murder—a crime that in the northwest provinces is never re- do told into the NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 1922, By N E A Bervice Dubuque, Ia, Jan, 13—~Queen of Porpolises! She s Dorothy Hoag, 20-year-old member of the American Red Cross life saving corps, The honor was hestowed upon her by the University of Iowa life saving corps, And lest this honor pass ligth- ly by, it is well to mention that the Torpoise club is an excluslve men's organization, The membership s open only to the most graceful and the best swimmers In the Red Cross outfit, Miss Dorothy is to prealde at the annual aquatic meet to be held In Iowa City at the Unlversity of Towa. Like swimming? She says it's the hest sport of all, Her dad, Dr, W, Hoag, has had a heap to do with her water ability, for back in her teens, Dorothy had a fully equipped gymnasium in her own home, And father used to tip daughter off to all the rudiments of this, that and the other stroke, Then, in college, C. E. Daubert, swimming instructor, carried on, Mother Hoag also deserves credit, She s president of the Dubuque Women's Red Cross life saving corps and one of the crack swimmers of the outfit: . In the Hoag famlly it's a case of like father and mother—like daugh- ter. Only daughter seems to have the edge. THE BLACKSMITH'S SHOP, Twinkleheels trotted proudly be- hind the buggy in which the old horse Ebenezer was pulling Johnnie Green and his father towards the village. Once Twinkleheels would have chafed at having to suit his pace to Eben- ezer's. He would have thought Eben- ezer's gait too slow. But ever since Iibenezer won a race with him in the pasture, Twinkleheels had thought more highly of his elderly friend. He knew that, if Ebenezer chose to take his time, {t wasn't because he couldn't have hurrfed had he cared to. They reached the blacksmith's shop at last, where Ebenezer and Twinkle- heels were to get new shoes, Having been there many times before, Eben- ezer was quite calm. Twinkleheels, however, was somewhat uneasy. He had never visited a smithy. And he looked with wide, staring eyes at the low, dingy building. On the threshold he drew back, as he sniffed odors that were strange to him. 16 Dont do thatl” the old horse \Ebenczer_called to him, Johnnie Green spoke to him and garded lightly. “And you weren't drowned!” the trapper marveled, when he had got his breath. “We've been mournin’ you for dead—for months" “Drowned—not a bit of it,” Virginia answered galy. ‘And don't mourn any more.” Bill felt wholly able to follow the broad snowshoe track the half-mile farther into town. The footsteps of the men had “grown faint and died away—and Virginia and he were left together on the hill. They saw the church spire, tall Fmt] ghostly in the twilight, and Bill's strong arms pressed the girl close. She understood and smiled happily. “Of course, Bill,* she told him. “There is no need to wait. In a few days I'll be strong enough to stand be- side you—at the altar.” \ THE END. About half the land area nf'Javan is forest. —— R A WHEN IT 18 SHELLFISH YOU WANT THEN IT IS HONISS’S TO VISIT 20-30 State Street Hartford Telephone 3374—3375 ST B ——————p CROWLEY BROS. INC. PAINTERS AND DECORATORS 267 Chapman Street TEL. 785-13 Jess. Harold stepped through the e ———— FOX’S——— STARTING “JUST AROUND Estimates cheerfully given on all {obs SUNDAY THE CORNER” BY FANNY HURST—AUTHOR OF “HUMORESQUE"” urged him forward. “I'll wait for Ebenezer,” Twinkle- heels decided. And he wouldn’t budge until FFarmer Green led the old horse into the smithy. Then Twinkleheels followed. “‘Goodness!” he cried to Ebenezer a moment later, “This place is afire. Let's get outside at once!” He had caught sight of a sort of flaming table against one of the walls, “Don’t be alarmed!” Ebenezer said. “That's only the forge That's where the blacksmith heats the shoes red hot, so he can pound them into the proper shape to fit the feet.” Twinkleheels had trembled with fear. And now he had scarcely re- covered from his fright when a ter- rible clanging clatter startled him. He snorted and pulled back. He would have run out of the smithy had not Johnnie Green tied his halter rope to a ring in the wall. “Don’t do that!" the old horse Ebenezer called to him. “There's no danger. That noise is nothing to be afraid of. It's only the smith pound- ing a horseshoe on his anvil."” Twinkleheeis looked relieved—and just a bit sheepish. “I'm glad you came with me,” he said. “I'd have been frightened if you—" A queer hiss made Twinkle- heels forget what he was saying. “What's that?" he cried. *Is there a Men Swimmers Crown Her Queen Of Porpoises goose hidden somewhere in the smithy?"” No! The smith put the hot shoe into a tub of water, to cool,” ben- ezer explained. He couldn’t help smil- ing a bit. A scrubby looking white mare who was being shod turned her head and stared at Ebenezer and his small companion. “It's easy to see,” she * “that that colt has never been In a smithy before, In my opinion he ought to be at home with his moth- er. This is no place for children,’” Before Iibenezer could answer her, Twinkleheels himself spoke up. “I don't know who you are madam,” he snapped. “But I'd like you to understand that I'm no colt. I'm a pony. And I must say I think you éwe me an apology.” remarked, (Copyright 1922 by The Metropolitan Ncwspaper Service). CRITICISES TEAM. Yale News Says Some Words About the Basketball Quintet. New Haven, Jan. 14.-—Although basketball is not a major sport, the Alumni Weekly today gave consider- able attention to the conditions in this sport, inasmuch as the Yale team al- ready has lost ten consecutive games. Its athletic writer quotes from Ten- nyson’'s “‘Six Hundred'* and says: “The Yale basketball team rode in- to the middle West and were prompt- ly cut to pieces, Iate gave the fa- mous six hundred immortal glory, and the basketball team imperishable ridicule. . Why such a team should be sent into a section of the country where basketball is known to be supreme is not understood. The campus feels that some one has blundered.” As many people live in Chicago as in the state of Wisconsin. BEST MILK = .| FOR BABY PasTEURIZED Raw, untreated milk is dangerous tor Baby for RAW MILK contains large numbers of germs that may wreck {ts life—germs that are ren- dered harmless by only ONE method, PASTEURIZATION. OUR PASTEURIZED MILK Is safe for young and old—it ig really safe because not alone does it come trom healy cows and handled with sanitary o 3 but it is ALSO PAS- TEURIZEL making it absolutely pure. G GIVE US A TRIAL. ~ ~ J. E. 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