The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 4, 1922, Page 11

Tg Siow. (Continved From Page § Vharden one of her nature, she was a qhorobred to the last inch, used to flattery and the attentions of men of her own class; yet she would have | bed no contempt for thie tall Dronzed man that looked at her with guch awe and wonder, The aurge| of feeling Was real in him; and real ity is one thing, over the broad earth, that no human being dares to scorn. | Ig. she could have read deeper sho have found in herself an un for answer, in a small meas lure at least, to a lifelong dream. an | come true, and even she—in) her high place—would have known a little whisper of awe. I hig Life, it seemed to him, Bilt! dreamed dreams —dreams that; d not admit into bis conscious | sht_ and which he constantly toPdimavow because he consid. their substance did not exist In and thus they were out of with the realism with which fegarded life. On the long win- nights, when the snow lay end. and deep over the wildernens, the terrible cold locked the land he would sit in hin trapping gazing Into the smoke clouds his pipe, and a tender enchant. would steal over him. He have adimtted to no human, those wistful and beautiful that he spent alone, He was as & Man among men, one could battle the snows and meet in his lair, and he would been ashamed to reveal this iY, romantic aide of his nature, fe for long, tingling, wakeful hours | by dreams that thru no earth chance could he conceive as com true. Arms about him, lips near, | ‘Weanty and tenderness and hallowed | “wakeningy—he had imagined them im his secret hours. the deep realms of his «pirit, seemed to him, he had always this girl—this straight, grace. lovely being with eyes of an of a happy child. He existence, and here a z if ; oy Faleiteetl “l he ty. He} was of the forest and| soon | comfort, heretofore, had been | his dream could not possity | true, that the stuff of which | ‘was made could never exist in the | n, dreadful, accursed place that | his home: but hig nature was too bitterness—to x & Es 5 itely apart from his, But he t give her his love, he told only his adoration. Hel going to be foolish enough t in love with a star! Yet he wa with joy, for did not a whole} h intervene before she would go to her kind? Would she not ip his own keeping for a while, she left him to his forests and | snows? Could he not see her! the fire, exult in her beauty, aid her in finding her lost lov- His eye kindled and his face d, and he leaped to help her the tonneau. 'T suppose you are Mr. Bronson?” asked. uit was the eame friendly bat tm nal tone that he had expected, | he felt no resentment. His spirits rallied promptly; and he was al partly adjusted to the fact that | Joy in the journey would conmiat the mere, unembellished faet of | Ber presence. Yes. Of course’this is ‘Miss Tre. pent and Mr. Lounsbury. And just fon as I pack the horses we'll | m ready to start.” S°T don't see why you haven't got! packed.” Lounsbury { I ran my business in shiftiess way" SBI turned quickly toward him. Fe t once that other elements be were to enter into The man spoke queru F ure e pl Journey ~in a tone to which [ill was| idea of proper garb for outdoor peo | wax Nick's little penknife er accustoried nor reconciled. | the girl had chosen to absue him, | uld have taken it meekly as his but it hadn't been his training pt too many rude words from low man, Yet, he remembered, was the uncle of the girl's fiance, | that meant he was a privileged | Something, somewhere, had evident-| with you, } Besides, his temper had tely been severely strained by the} road | "Don't be ridiculous, Uncle.” the feproved him. “How @id he} exactly when we were going| he regarded with great displeasure. | Hig nephew's pennness fiancee, In stead of himeaelf, reeeived all the attentions Hven the burly ruffian who was to guide them bad looked j at her as if she were an angel The girl's voice rang over the table, “What's worrying you now, Uncle sho asked. Lounsbuty looked mp agerily ‘Whats worrying me now je—that | T was such a fool as to conte up into this country at the approach of win ter, 1 don't like the place, and I don't lke the people, and I abomt nate the service! Fancy eating on there Breat, thick plates for a month! 1 don’t trust that big outlaw who is going to take us into the woods, either, Virginia, 1 @ distinct premonition of dimste: “T rether thingthat we'll be glad enough to have any china plates at all before we get back. And Mr Rrensoo—* “By the way, don't call him Mr. Bronson, You must learn to teach these bemgare their places, Call him just Bronson, You'll get twice the service.” “Yes, Uncle, I was just going say that he seemed very trus worthy, And it's hardly—well, the sporting Uning to become discouraged 80 soon.” All thru the journey #0 far this bad been Lounsbury's one satisfac tion—that he was doing the sporting thing. He knew perfectly that many of his business amociates, many of bis city’s great whom he would have been Mattered to know, came up into these gloomy forésts every yoar in pursuit of big game; and he had heard of enduring hardships in a “sporting” way, But the term was already threadbare—and the journey only commenced. The reason went back to the simple fact that Louns bury War not @ sportaman and never could be, that the red corpuscle con- tent in his blood was wholly within the law, Yet Virginia felt at a dian@vantace This man's money had financed the trip; the fortune her own father had ii rit rf i 3 But tt was pot written that Kenly Lounsbury ahould reach the door without further annoyance. The walter came shouting after them. “Excuse me, Mister,” be said kind ty, holding out « quarter, “you left some money on the table.” Virginia laughed with delight and pocketed the coin hervelf. but Loune bury’s face was purple. These north ern fools did not even know the meaning of a tip. A few minutes later the pack train emerged thru the little alley at the side of the hotel and halted in front. Bill Bronson led bie own bay, Mul aney, and the pack horses were ailed—the halter rope of each tied to the tall of the horse in front, like elephants on parade. The idea wax imply to keep them in formation till they were launched forth upen the trail. Vosper, the. cook, led three horses with riding saddles at the end of the line. Virginia bad changed to outing clothes when she emerged Into the street, leaving her tailored suit in charge of the innkeeper. Bill beamed at her appearance, “Miss Tremont,” he began, doing the honors, “this i» Mr. Vosper, who will cook the beans."* Both nodded, the girl emiling rath- er impersonally, horrifying omission. Vosper actual- ly lacked the intelligence to remove | hig hatt The first thatinet of the woodsman was to march toward him nd inflict physteal violence for such | an Insult to hie queen, but he caught himself in time. Vosper, damaged in the encounter, would likely refuse to make the trip, upsetting all their plans. But at that instant Bill forgot all about it, He suddenly noticed his employers’ clothes. And he gazed in open-mouthed astonishment. Roth Virginia and Lounsbury were well gotten up aceoriing to their le. The man wore knickerbockers with golf stockings, riding habit and stock, the girl m beautifully tailored, finetextured lady's riding habit. Both were immediately conscious of the guide's stare, and Virginia was aware of a distinct embarrassment ly gone wrong. Lounabury took ret- uge in hauteur. “Well?” he demanded iefly. “eo me,” Bill replied. “But those aren’t—are those the clothes you're going to wear on the trip?” OUR BOARDING HOUSE é HEY! GuTour Thar Ot! HEENY HAS | HANGNAILS ALL QVER RACKET AND KEEP OUT WS DISPosITioN ! OF THIS ROOM OR TLL TAKE |%\ IF T WAS AS SOUR i “WAT BELL AND SKATES FROM AS'AT GUV I'D BUILD YOU AND MELT 'EM UP INTO A FLAT IRON TY DAG RAT = f 9 oath aera AW, THIS 16 MY AUNTY'S HOUSE ! « ‘{ AND-I'M A FIRE { ENGINE GOING "1D COUT A FIRE, AND SHE KNEW YoU WERE . “TRYING "10 STOP A FIRE ENGINE SHE'D y GET MAD= pil d . _ oa HE SMILED HE \=JGOT A“TDOTHACHE HIS MIDDLE NAME IS'QUINCY'AN WE CALL HIM QUINCE — on every garment you Bi turned rather quiet eyes on the man; and for one little instant the craven that dwelt under Louns bury's kin told him he had said one sentence too many; but he took heart when Bill looked away. “I'll keop what I've got on.” he announced “I'm not uned to being told what kind of clothes to wear, Virginia, | we'll start on.* | “Walt Just a minute, Uncle." the! wir! replied coolly, She turned to Bil, “You say these won't do at ant ‘OM, GO CALL OLIVIA AND SEE IF You CAN PERSUADE HER TO EAT SOMETHING ~ SHE'LL BE SICK NEX7T- SHE HASN'T EATEN A THING SHE'S DIETING ‘To REDUCE - CAN YOU BEAT IT ? BEEN EATING “TODAY P excePpT WILBUR and Rill notiond «|~ “They be torn offtof you in the brush, Mise Tremont. And they won't turn the cold and the anew ‘They left Lounsbury fuming In the road, and they had a rather enjoy-| able ten minutes searching thru Far. | 0's atock for suitable gard. He ne | ; lected a pair of slicker pants to wear, Tha t coat for outside wear when the snow lay on the branches. It waa not, Vir! sinia decided, quite like choosing | gowns at her modiste’s: yet she was brighteyed and laughing at the end. BI unhitehed a pack, tnaerted the tundie of clothes,’ then bractng his boot againet the horse's side pulled | and tugged until the pack was tight) again, “You'll be gisd you" these things before the trip is he prophesiad. He pointed to the North, an unlooked-for sobriety apon | bla teen, | Far against the horizon the clouds were beginning to spread, dark and gray and strange. over the northern hills. These werd not the clouds of summer rains, They were the first banners of an enemy—a grim and jdreadful foe who had his ramparts in the wilds, and bie ambush laid | for such feeble creatures as would | dare to brave his jinued ADVENTURES | OF lke Wevats Be aA AN AFTERNOON DI the drive”) “But th begged the kidd “Was it all! they we busy with trucks and things when you were little, “Tell us about as it now?™ | little regra: Motherdear’s ; " “No,” “Oh, ¢ When T was little, Seattle was «| down, | {f ae Village, not a city. Most of what] It “gad | ; you know as Seattle was ‘clear |p rotne ings’ with stumps and ferns all) arty amiled, | Would be 10, 0n® side friend she ‘answered, t des Instantly their steeds started down the road ver Chott Oo fatenw ev stretches! of the | ‘Come | The two balloons searched Nancy | and Nick for pins or for any sharp | #Fe stronger than they appear to be “Blackberrie Like everything else in Fairyland, |] yy [things that might hurt the people | y their ‘appearance i# deceiving and} i. uel eewund lim their country, but ali they found | patsy Pink Kye and Bowsy Biue | Swamps covered ° the’ ground) which they Bow will take you anywhere you|{ Where you see busy paved cor said he could keep if he would) wish to go.” ners, and the hills have been #0 promise ngt to open it Agios | be hg od oe agate soem Nog pig changed by the regrading that 1 par a “Wel ‘a over?’ mid Buskins, |(which bore her plump weight very | head and line Yairyman, “Now please run and| nicely) and Nick settled himself on |] C#AMot picture It to you as it was) leet our steeds! Nancy and ck |the blue poodie. and I have many places to go and| Instantly their steods started down are just getting started, Off! the road, covering the ground at-n Blue Jumper and Reddy | wonderful gait, Blue Jumper and! Gé to my stables in the} Reddy Bounce bounding along in d bring us/the rear, “Don't be afrald, ‘These creatures forest still standing. t grow where we) He. “L was happily in ae them in market stalls now, | was too h | then, know ‘Bell Town’ | | ave, {one side, “Only you {around the neighborhood of Bat tery and Bell sts.) was about the edge of town in the direction of Queen Anne hill “Lake Washington was a day’s trig in the country; Lake Union a farming community, and ‘down we | Bounce! jtown of Balloongtick a pomething to ride upon. “Wh—where are we going?’ called ‘Away bounced the fat jolly bal-|Naney bumplly to Buskina, who was ltoonn and jn & second or two they | leading the procession. |were back with three lurse Fourth| “fo the nursery,” called back Bus. One | kins. “It's about @ mile ahead to | frighter over we “But I much, eith jand for tw N Not Eating Is Some Task SINCE NEW YEAR'S-SHE SAYS SHE GETS MORE BUG IDEAS THAN ANYBODY | KNOW = ‘T'll take you and faster, but I didn't mind that “And we went rattling down the street und turned onto Western Loose earth was piled on™ | and bumpy, the horse was fri usual experience of riding in an FIRST @- SACOM - HAND stoves : OTHING FINE Cee AC £5 &PAN THER Oo. BONS FRESH EGGS TAKEN iN ARD OLD BLACK RUBBER COAT , HANGING IN FRONT OF ABE GOLDSTANS _STORE BECOMES A MENACE TO UFE ND LIMB _ON A WINDY DAY. BY ALLMAN THAT H. OLIVIA CUT OUT THIS NONSENSE AND COME DOWN AND EAT ™ SOMETHING ~- | ADMIRE YouR WILL POWER AND ALL THAT BuT - | HAVE TO WEAR These HANDCUFFS! IT TAKES MORE THAN 4% WILL Power 1, oN \ % eae sed ’s What Puzzles Us KNOW THAT You WANT 'EM T' GOT Your LIVER AN’ NOT T' YouR STUMMIK ? a EVERETT TRUE WE'RE SELLING TTHos® FoR #76 IVE © town was growing and wonstantly working at the streete—blowing out stumps, is |loveling them down and ltue by ding them so that there dd of » way level streets, tnste up and one si: while Western ave, was orn up condition that wided to take me for a YOu May Be seccine THEM FoR F978, Bur NoT To M@—— fC Never SPEND #/0 To Save 2 asnrs {% see on, Mildred,’ he invited, out for a buggy delighted and climbed and we started of. ping was rough, but ¥ mind that, the buggy seat igh for me, but I didn’t » the horse tossed his went faster and faster it was soft and rough ted. got panicky, shied and ent! DIDN'T MIND THAT er. I stuck like a burr, © blocks 1 had the un arrive?” She turned back to Bill.) “We're parading for any one's | of July balloons made of paper. tell na where we can get lunch. | benefit, 1 hope,” was the earcastic| was a green elephant, another a pink |the left, Just follow me." marved.” Janswer. “These are our rough| pig and the third a blue poodle, each} So they all galloped Nick “This country does—atimulate the| clothes, Have you any objections to| one puffed out with importance, and | looked back once over his shoulder otite,” Bill responded gravely. | em?” lvenddied and bridled and ready to|to see what had become of the lit- Dhe showed them into the hotel| The guide's eyes puckered about | go tle elevator. It was patiently wait: le Gi4 a queer and aprightly little | the corners, sir—not any Ob | «pop on, kiddies!’ called Buskina, | ing, as he hurried toward the barn | jections—and they'd be all right for | springing to the back of the green (To Be Continued) @ bet his horses | a day or two—until bad weather. But | paper elephant. (Copyright, 1922, by Seattie Star) -—— |they are hardly the tags for the) enone nsietitconti, mI | North, What you want is a good. Mr. Kenly Lounsbury, addressed! pair of slicker pants, both of you, Biertionately an Uncle by his|and plenty of wool inside. Also a ‘@ tianéee, was in if humor | rubber coat of some kind, over sheep- | he devoured bis lunch. In the| skin. In the first good snow those | Place he hadn't been getting the| clothes would just meit away. If| ion that he had expected, He| you'll come wiih me, I'll help you| hned to being treated with a cer-| lay in some—and I'll pack ‘em right | M9 deference humility|on one of the horses for the time of | wan fitt to a man of wealth! need. There's a store adjoining the position hese northern peo-| hotel however, didn't seem to know| Virginia's confusion had departed on. Confessions of a Movie Star (Copyright, 1921, Beattie Star) CHAPTER LIV—AN EXPERIENCE WITH DICK BARNES My old biue lawn produced the ef.|away convict) had returned to his| fect 1 wanted home to embrace me (the abused) to fawn. They were eourtcous|«iving way to mirth, but Lounsbury | Dick went white at the sight of It. | wife). There wan an embrace of rec: | Price, but were| wan swollen and purple with wrath, |Then he went thru the tuiness|onciliation, @ kiss of contrition tn ugh, cave rood | ; fined to mpenk to him an man to|"You—you—" he gan His face|which the director wanted in a most|the scenario, after which 1 was to 4n inference of equality that|l grew crafty, “I suppose you get #!conyincing manner, Dick (the rug-| fall in w faint, an abject is town’ was Just a bit of Commerce and and First ave, 8. upside-down bugsy coming 1 thed unhurt.” jcoquet with him! Could remind him | that I was on a set and acting @ part Jot our one mad midsummer night of |for my director. the previous year! It was all on account of that hon If he could believe that, then he|rid biue dress. I rushed (o my dress must believe the mysterious hints | ing room and threw off tts offending jabout the interest MoMasters took |prettiness. I never wanted to sea jin my career! A hint which I was|the thing again, but unfortunately, lrepeatediy hearing myself without}since I had done some interiors in | comprehending, jit, T would have to put it on again had not beep looking at the scene,| “A man of his reputation’? Thus | for the seenes to be shot on location, soif from the little wornan who had aa in a frame, when Dick had kissed | People referred to McMasters, That evening Cissy took me out im kept her faith in him and whom he me, 1 bed forgotten! Vor once tn| Well, what was his reputation? Ij his magnificent new roadster, I was never expected to #ee again, He|my acting career, it hadn't occurred | hadn't the slightest idea other than | confused and unhappy. It was the managed to flee just in the nick of to me that a love scene waa both|that it was Sf a kind which Dick |first time Motherdear ever had per time across the chatked boundary of | silly and distressing! Barnes and Motherdear did not ap- | mitted me to go out in the evening the set and out of the field of the| Then camo the reaction. prove. | unchaperoned, cameran thought left me imp Whatever it might be, Dick pre | She must be encouraging Clsay, I His parting embrace left me as Dick Barnes had scorned me! That | ferred to belicve I had something to | decided. But I did not enjoy being tured that for once Thad made Dick | was why he had kissed me so. do with It) He deliberately tried to alone with Cissy Sheldon. 1 was Rarnes own up that he was Jimmy| He believed that I was already en. | think the worst of me. jeonstantly thinking how differently Aleott. gaged to Cissy Sheldon—so he had! And thinking so—he had snatched |1 would feel if the roadster were Dick had left the studio by the |juat learned from Bangs-—and he! me to his heart and for one tumuttu- | Dick's. time I came out of my mock faint-| believed that J, an engaged girl, could ous second he had made me forget | (To Be Continued ee | ee ing spell. I knew that I wouldn't nee him agoin until we went on lo- cation, At home, that flashed back to work. I perceived, suddenly, that I the act, 1 whis ‘Oh, Jimmy! Jimmy!" with | ent limpudence. hereafter, Dick's performance de- Vghted Demaison immensely. | Al- tho the convict’s pursuers battered ut the door, Dick could not tear him: night, my mind the afternoon's A horrid