The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 24, 1904, Page 7

THE - SAN FRANCISCO - SUNDAY CALL. Phillipe & IP was a strc £ ork and eye ris rom his strength were him went away and s rowing became drunken f himself. Never maltreated. His soul had ng for which three women fourth the such wo- a fou was or And three e mistake air, ten- who had But no Eppingwell and t She gpoke of the a Charley Greek girl mentioned girl, Charle she said, “1 is. And she is coming into yuntry without a friend gets here. We must do some- when she ley promised his help and thinking what a wicked oraine Lisznayi must be, ] n Mrs. Epping- re to interest them- are of the unknown Eppingwell was open as i ken Floyd Vander- lip's measurements, she dil not dare * this with him: but she was not afraid to ®o down into the town to Freda. And down town she went, in the bright light of day, to the house of the dancer. She was above the s tongues, as was her husband, the captain. She wished to Sec this woman and speak with her, nor was she aware of any reason why she should not. So she stood in the snow at the Greek girl's »or, with the frost at sixty beloav, i parleyed with the waiting maid a full five minutes. She had also he pleasure of being turned away from the door and of going baek up the hill, wroth at heart for the indig- n which had been put upon her. Who is this woman that she should refuse to see me?” she asked herself. One would think it was the other way around, and she herseif but a dancing girl denied at the door of the wife of a captain. ~ he would not have been surprised she been taken irto the dancer's cab and encountered on common ground; nor surprised had she Been taken in and flaunted in prideless ar- roge But to be treated as she had treated was unexoected and dis- appointing. Ergo, she had not caught Freda's point of view. One cannot derstand defilement without laying 3 pitch, which is very sticky, be ple: willing to-under- e experiment. All of which is concern beyond the fact that . Eppingwell ground for e and bred for her a great Greek girl's heart. this way things went along ith, Mrs. Eppingwell striving he Greek inst the Flossie les- y of the drea- 2] & the miles each d: il; Freda pitting her strength the model woman; the model aining every nerve to land e, and the man moving hrough it all like fiying shuttle, very proud of himself, whom he be- lieved to be a second Don Juan. It was nobody’s fault except the an's that Loralne Lisgnayi at last anded him. The way of a man witha maijd may be too wonderful to k but the wa; of a woman with a man eth all conceptior Perhaps the del woman's attraction in that to the eye > ani ; perfaps him with Old World laces and princes; led him whose life un- : last rur suggestio and of his int itka Charley sled is necessary when e than one like womar Loraine Lisznayi takes he l—and then went up the to give orders for the superin- ce of his Bonanza r ence. had given it out rather vaguely needed the animals for sledg- g 1 rom the mill to his sluices, and right here is where Sitka Chariey demonstrated his fitness. He agreed to furnish n a given date, but DO 800, had Filoyd Vanderlip turned his toes up ecreek than Charley hied himself away In perturbation to Lo- Did she know where had gone. He had ply that gentleman with dogs by a certain nes during n es one, the Germ: » buying up the arket., It ld see Mr. shameless a week behind- the contraet know where he had gone? Gc Did he understand Mr. Vanderlip needed the day night tt it was whe she would even meet herself? And he was A t it? ‘She was kind interests.. Friday Good! The dogs later Freda knew the elope- pulied off Friday ¢ Floyd Vz ip had and her s were y morning Devereaux, the ring dispatches from arrived over the ice. Be- tches he brought news of had nassed her camp at ans and dogs were in i would doubt- morrow. Mrs. Ep- a great relief on A Vanderlip was safe ere the Greek girl could on him his bride be on the ground. Sitka Char- arked incidentally that she in- jumping out down river that with Floyd Vanderlip, and fur- formation ‘that ac- likely at that time of eek, an n lay hands u Mrs. Eppingwell's thoughts of Freda were unkinder than ever. She wrote a note, addressed it to the man in question and intrusted it to a mes- senger who lay in wait at the mouth of Bopanza Creek. Another man bear- ing a note from Freda also waited at strategic point. .So happened that Floyd Vanderlip, riding his sled merrily down with the last daylight, received the notés together. He tore da's across. No, he would not go to her. There were greater things »ot that night. Besides, she was out But Mrs. Eppingwell! observe her last wish—or, > last wish it would be pos- n to observe—and meet her ernor's ball to hear what she that at the had to say. From the tone of the writ- ing it was evidently important; per- haps—— He smiled fonély, but failed to shape the thought. what a lucky fellow he was with the women anyway! Scattering her letter to the frost, he mushed the dogs into a swinging lope and headed for his cabin. It was to be a masquerade, and he had to dig up the costume used at the opera-house & couple of months ago. Also, he had to shave and to eat. Thus It was that he, alone of all inter- ested, was unaware of Flossie's prox- imit Confound it all, ave them down to the water-hole off the hospital at midnight sharp. Don’t fail me,” he said to Sitka Char- ley, who dropped in with the advige that only one dog was lacking to fill the bill and that that one would be forthcoming in an hour or so. “Here's the sack. There's the scales. Weigh out your own dust and don’t bother me. I've got to get ready for the ball.” Sitka Charley weighed out his pay and departed, carrying with him a letter to Loraine Lisznayi, the contents of which he correctly imagined to re- fer to a meeting at the water-hole at midnight !hn:'rh 3 - Twice Freda sent messengers up to the Barracks, where the dance was in full swing and as often they came back without answers. Then she did what only Freda could do—put on her furs, masked her face and went up herself to the Governor’s ball. Now there happened to be a custom—not an original one by any means—to which the official clique had long since become addicted. It was a very wise custom. for it furnished protection to the womankind of the officials and gave greater selectness to their revels. Men recognized the furs and mar- veled—men who should have served upon the door committee, but they were not prone to speech. Not so with the women. They had better eyes for the lines of figure and tricks of carriage, and they knew this form to be one with which they were uhfamiliar; like- wise the furs. Mrs. McFee, emerging from the supper-room, where all was in readiness, caught one flash of the blazing, questing eyes through the silk- en mask slits and received a start. She tried to recollect where she had geen the like, and a vivid picture was recalled of a certain proud and re- bellious sinner whom she had once en- countered on a fruitless errand for the Lord. So it was that the good woman took the trail in hot and righteous wrath, a trail which brought her ultimately into the company of Mrs. Eppingwell and Floyd Vanderlip. Mrs. Epping- well had just found the opportunity to talk with the man. She had deter- mined, now that Flossie was so near at hand, to proceed directly to the point, and an incisive little ethical dis- course was titillating on the end of her tongue, when the couple became three. She noted, and pleasurably, the faintly foreigm acct 't of the “beg par- don” with- which the furred woman prefaced ler immediate appropriation AN2 O of Floyd Vanderlip; and she courteous- ly bowed her permission for them to draw a little apart. Then suddenly was the black mask torn from a startled woman. A won- derful face and brilliant eyes were ex- posed to the quiet curiosity of those who looked that way, and they were everybody. Floyd Vanderlip was rather confused. The situation de- manded instant action on the part of a man who was not beyond his depth, while he hardly knew where he was, He stared helplessly about him. Mrs. Eppingwell was perplexed. She could not comprehend. An explanation was forthcoming somewhere, and Mrs. Mc- Fee, the minister's wife, was equal to it 5 ‘Mrs. Eppingwell,” and her Celtic voice rose shrilly, “it is with great pleasure I make you acquainted with Freda Moloof, Miss Freda Moloof, as I understand.” Freda involuntarily turned. With her own face bared, she felt as in a dream, naked. Upon her turned the clothed features and gleaming eyes of the masked circle. It seemed almost as though a hungry wolf pack girdled her, ready to drag her down. It might chance that some felt pity for her, ste thought, and at the thought hardened. She would by far prefer their scorn. Strong of heart was she, this woman, and though she had hunted the prey: into the midst of the pack, Mrs. Ep- pingwell or no Mrs. Eppingwell, she could not forego the kill. - But here Mrs. Eppingwell did a strange thing. So this, at last, was Freda, she mused, the dancer and the destroyer of men; the weman from’ whose door she had been turned. ‘When Mrs. McFee's thin voice, . vi- brant with malice, had raised and Freda turned involuntarily, Mrs. Ep- pinwell - also turned, removed = her WID TIHE ZAHT? 0077 /48 ST THE 70, 7HE TIREOALY. GAPDED [l THA/L 2 /OFN FURS A WOMAN HES]THTED o —— mask and inclined her head knowledgment. It was another flashing, eternal sec- ond, during wjich these two women re- garded each other. Freda drew herself in check, returned the inclination of the head and turned to the man. “Come with me, Floyd,” she “I want you now. he began explosive- 1y, and quit as suddenly, discreet enough to not round it off. Where the deuce had his wits gone, anyway? Was ever a man more foolishly placed? “I beg pardon, just a moment, but may 1 speak first with Mr. Vanderlip?” Mrs. Eppingwell's voice, though flute- like and low, predicated will In " its every cadence. The man looked his gratitude. He,at least, was willing enough. in ac- said “I" am very sorry,” from Freda. “There isn’'t time. He must come at once." “But, Miss Moloof, who are you that you may possess yourself of Mr. Van- derlip and command his actions “I—I—" Freda hesitated, and then, her feminine mind putting on its har- ness—“and who are you to ask this question?” . ? I am Mrs. Eppingwell, and—"" “There!” the other broke in sharply. “You are the wife of a captain, who is therefore your husband. I am only a dancing girl. What do you want with this man?” “Since Miss Moloof appears to hold claims upon you, Mr. Vanderlip, and is in too great haste to grant me a few seconds of your time, I am forced to apfeal directly to you. May I speak with you alone and now?” “Why, er—that is, certainly,” the man stammered. “Of course, of course,” growing more effusive at the prospect of deliverance. The Greek girl ~red upon the man with Rell's tide aflood In her blazing eyes, much a bespangled lady upon a lion which has suddenly Imbibed the pernicioss theory that he is a free tl.gentq The beast ip him fawned to e lagh. “That Is to say, ah, afterward. To- morrow, Mra. Eppingwell; yes, to-mor- row. That is what I meant.” He so- laced himself wi*h the fact, should he remal that . more embarrassment awaited. Alsc. he had an engagement which he must keep shortly down by the water hole off the hospital. Ye gods! He had nevér given Freda credit! Wasn't she magnificent? “I’ll thank.you for my mask. Mrs. McFee.” That lady, for the once speechless, turned ‘over the article in question. “Good . night, Miss Moloof.” Mrs. Ep- pingwell was royal even In defeat. Freda reciprowated, though barely downlni the impulse to clasp the other’s knees and beg forgiveness. No, not forgiveness, but something she knew not what, -but which she none the less greatly desired. Jhe man was for her taking his arm; put she had made her kill in the midst of the pack, and that which led kings to drag their vanquished at the chariot tail led her toward the door alone, Floyd Vanderlip close at heel and striving to re-establish his mental equillbriun. 1t was bitter cold. As the trail wound a quarter of a mile brought them to the dancer’'s cabin, by which time her moist breath had coated her face frostily, while his had massed- his heavy mustache till conversation was painful. They did not talk at first, the man and the woman. While the maid heiped Freda off with her wraps Floyd Van- derlip replenished the fire, and by the time the maid had withdrawn to an inner room, his head over the stove, he was busily thawing out his burdened upper lip. After that he rolled a cig- arette and watched her lazily through the fragrant eddies. She stcie a glance at the clock. It lacked half an hour of midnight. How was she to hold him? Was he angry for that which she had done? What was his mood? What mood of hers could meet his best? Not that she doubted herself. No, no. Hold him she could, If need be at pistol point, till Sitka Charley’s work was done, and Devereaux's, too. There were many ways, and with her knowledge of this her contempt for the man increased. As she leaned her head on her hand a fleeting vision of her cwn girthood, with its mournful climacteric and tragic ebb, was vouch- safed her, and for the moment she was minded to read him a sesson from it God! It must be less than human brute who could not be held by such a tale told as she could tell it. But—bah! He was not worth it, nor worth the pain to her. Te-him it was very comfortable, soothing his lungs with nicotine and gazing upon her. It was snug and warm here, while down by the® water hole began a trail which he wouldsoon be hitting through the ‘chilly hours. He felt he ought to be angry with Freda for the scene she had created, but somehow he didn't feel a bit wrath- ful. Never gave the girl credit for her grit. He looked lingeringly over her, coming back now and again to the eyes, behind the deep earnestness of which he could not guess lay concealed a deeper sneer. And, Jove: wasn't she well put up! Wonder why she looked at him so? Did she want to marry him, too? Like as not: but she wasn’t the only one. Her looks were in her favor. weren't they? And young— younger than Loraine Lisznayi. She couldn't be more than twenty-three or four, twenty-five at most. And she'd never get stout. Anybody could guess that the first time. He couldn’t say it of Loraine, though. While this girl Freda—he sighed his unconscious re- gret that he had missed being born under the flag of the Turk, and came back to Alaska. “Well?" Both hands of the clock pointed perpendicularly to midnight, and it was high time he was getting down to the water hole. “Oh!” Freda started and she did it prettily, delighting him as his fellows have ever been delighted by _their womankind. “I was just wondering what you wanted to see me about,” he explained, ving his chair up to hers by the * ghe looked him steadily in “I am tired of the whole I want to go away. I ean't till the river breaks. I am sure of it. I business. live it out here if 1 try, I'll die. want to quit it all and go away, and I want to do it at once.” She laid her hand in mute appeal upon the back of his, which turned over and became a prison. Another one, he thought, just throwing herself at him. Guess it woulln't hurt Lor- aine to cool her feet by the water hole a little longer. “Well?” This time from Freda, but softly and anxiously. “I don’t know what to say,” he hastenéd to answer, adding to him- self that it was coming quicker than he had expected. “Nothing I'd like better, Freda. You know that well enough,” He pressed her hand, palm to palm. She nodded. Could she won- der that she despised the breed? “But you see, I—I'm engaged. Of course you know that. And the girl's coming into the country to marry me. Don’t know what was up with me when I asked her, but it .was a Jong while back, and I was all-fired young.” “I want to go away, out of the land, anywhere,” she went on, disregarding the obstacle he had reared up and apologized for. “I have been running over the men I knew and reached the conclusion that—that—" 1 was the likeliest of the lot?” She smiled her gratitude for his hav- ing saved her the embarrassment of confession. He drew her head against his shoulder with the free hand, and somehow the scent of her hair got into bis nostrils. Then he discove; that a common pulse throbbed, "throbbed, where . their palms were in contact. And when Freda turned her head against his shoulder, her halr brushing his ‘cheek till his eyes met hers, full and at close range, luminously soft, aye, and tender—why, whose fault was it that he lost his grip utterly? False to Flossle; why not to Loraine? Even if the women did keep bothering him, that was no reason why he should make up his mind in a hurry. Why, he had slathers of money, and Freda was Just the girl to grace it. A wife she’d . make him for other.men to envy. But 8o slow. He must be cautious. “You don’t happen to care for pal- aces, do you?” She shook her head. “Well, I had a hankering after them myself till I got to thinking a while back, and I've about sized it up that one’d get fat living in palaces, and soft and lazy.” “Yes, it's mice for a time, but soon get tired of it, I imagine” hastened to reassure him. “The w is good, but life should be many-sid Rough and knock-about for a v and then rest up. somewhere. Off the South Seas on a yacht, then & nib- ble of Paris, a winter in South Amer- ica and a summer in rway, a few months in England— “Good society?"” “Most certainly—the best—and then, heigh-ho! for the dogs and sleds and the Hudson Bay country. Change, you know. A strong man like you, full of vitality and go, could not possibly stand a palace for a year. It is all very well for effeminate men. but 3 weren't made for such a You are masculine, intensely masculine.” “Think so?” “It does mot require thinking. I know. Have you ever noticed that-it was easy to make women care for you?" His dublous innocence was superb. “It is very easy. And why? Because you are masculine You strike the deepest chords of a woman's hearf. You are something to cling to—big muscled, strong and brave. In short, because you are a man.” She shot a glance at the clock. It was half after the hour, She had given a margin of thirty minutes to Sitka Charley; and it did not matter now when Devereaux arrived. -Her work was done. She lifted her head, jaughed her genuine mirth, slipped her hand clear, and rising to her feet called her malid. “Alice, help Mr. Vanderlip on with his parka. His mittens are on the sill by the stove.” The man could not understand. “Let me thank vou for your kind- ness, Flovd. Your time was invaluable ed good of you: . as you leave you she rid The turning to the cabin, leads the quickest to the water hole. Good night. I am going to bed.” Floyd Vanderlip emplgyed strong words to express his perplexity and disappointment. Alice did not like to hear men swear, so dropped his parka on the floor and tossed his mittens on top of it. Then he made a break for Freda and she ruined her retreat to the irnner room by tripping over the parka. He brought her up s nding with a rude grip on the wrist. ' But she only laughed. She was not afraid of men. Had they not wrought their worst with her and did she not still endure? “Don’t be rough.” she said finally. “On second thought,” here she looked at his detaining hand, “I've decided not to go to bed yet a while. Do sit down and be comfortab instead ‘of ridiculous. Any guestions Yes, my lady, and reckoning. too.” He still kept his hold. “What do a know about the water hole? What did you mean by—no, never mind. One question at a time.” *“Oh, nothing much. Sitka Charley had an appointment there with som®- body you may know and, not being anxious for a man of your known charm to be present, fell back upon me to kindly help him. That's all. They’re oft now, and a good half hour ago.” “Where? - Down the river and with- out me? And he an Indian? ““There’s no accounting for taste, you know, especially in a woman.” “But how do I stand in this deal?” I've lost $4000 worth of dogs and a tidy bit of a woman and nothing te show for it. Except you,” he added as an afterthought, “and cheap you are at the price.” Freda shrugged her shoulders. -, “You might as well get ready. I'm going out to borrow a couple of teams of dogs, and we’ll start in as many hours.” *1 am very sorry, but I am going to bed.” “You'll pack if you know what's gobd for you. Go to bed or not, when I get my dogs outside, so help me, ‘onto the sled you go. Mebbe you fooled with me, but I'll just see your bluff and take you in earnest. Hear me?” He closed on her wrist till it hurt, but on her lips a smile was growing, and she seemed to listen intently’ to some outside sound. There was a jingle of dog bells and a man’s voice erying “Haw!" as a sled took the turning and drew up at the cabin. “Now will you let me go to bed?’ As Freda spoke she threw open the door. Into the warm room rushed the frost and on the threshold, garbed in trail-worn furs, knee-deep in the swirl- ing vapor, against a background -of flaming borealis, a woman hesitated. 'Floyd,” she cried, relieved and glad, and met him with a tired bound. What could he but kiss the armful of furs? And a pretty armful it was, nestling against him wearily, but happy. “It was good of you,” spoke the arm- ful, “to send Mr. Devereaux with fresh dogs after me, else I would not hayve been in till to-morrow.” The man looked blankly across ‘at Freda, then, the light breaking in upon him, “And wasn't it good of Deve- reaux to go?” s “Coulén’'t wait a bit longer, could you, dear?” Flossie snuggled closer., “Well, I was getting sort of impa- tient,” he confessed glibly, at the same time drawing her up till her feet }oft the floor and getting outside the door: That same night an inexplicable-thing happened to the Rev. James Brown, missionary, who lived among the na- tives several miles down the Yukon and saw to it that the trails they trod led to the white man’'s paradise. He was roused from his sleep by a strangs Indian, who gave into his charge net only the soul but the body of a wo- man, and, having done this, drove quickly away. This woman was heavy and handsome, and angry, and in heér wrath unclean words fell from her mouth. This shocked the worthy man, but he was yet' young and her pres ence would have oeen perniclous. (in the simple eyes of his flock), had she not struck out on foot for Dawson with the first gray of dawn. The shock to Dawson came many days later, when the summer had come and the population honored a certain roydl lady at Windsor by lining the Yukon's bank and watching Sitka Charley rise up with flashing paddle and drive the first canoé across the line. On this day of thé races Mrs. Eppingwell, who had learned and iin- Jearned numerous things, saw Freda for the first time since the night of the ball. “Publicly, mind you,” as Mrs. McFee expressed it, “without regard or re- spect for the morals of the o nity,” she went up to the dancer and held out her hand.