The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 21, 1922, Page 9

diliseel = & EH Fgeg > ae ¥ va ee ae il A oe lra rete ee BK } 80 easy to dose off—just for a mo (Continued From Page 6) tant murmur, the murmur to a long | ment, and the fire would burn out swish like a million rustling gar} In that case the fire of his spirit ments. A tree fell, with a crash,| would burn out too—just as cer far away, ‘Then the wind smote | tain, just as soon him, Late afternoon: already the shad In itself it was nothing to fear.|ows lay strange and heavy in the It was not a hurricane, not even a} distant tree aisies, And all at once Partioularty violent storm, but only | he paused, thrilled, in his tracks & brisk gale that struck him from| A little way to the east, on the he side and more or less impeded | bank of a small creek, his father his progress. ‘Trees that were tot-| and his traitorous partner had ¢ tering and ready to fall went down| had a mining clalm—a mine they with reverberating , reports; the! had t unsuccessfully to snowdust whirled thru the forest,| before Bronson had made changing the contour of the drifts,| strike. They had built a small and filling up the tracks of the wild | cabin, and for nearly thirty years creatures, But for Bill the wind) it had stood moldering and Corgot held @ real menace. It was from/ten. Twice in hin life Bill had seen the southeast, and warm as a girl's | it—once as a boy, when his father band against his face had taken him there on some Joy No man of the Northwest Prov: | ous, holiday excursion, and once tn inces is unacquainted with this| his travels Bill \had beheld it at a wind. It is prayed for in the spring | distance. Its stove had rotted away because its breath melts the drifts| years «ince; it contained neither swiftly, but it is hated to death by | food nor blankets nor furniture, yet the traveler caught far from his| it was a shelter against the night! cabin on snowshoes. The wind was | and the cold. And even now it was the famfamed Chinook, the south-| within haif a mile of where he east gale that softens the snow as stood & child's breath meits the frost on| Exultant and thankful, Bill turned & window pane. jin bis tracks and mushed over Tt did not occur to Bill to tern | toward it. Dack. Already he was nearly half} “+ way to his destination. The food XI supplies had to be secured, sooner er later; and when the Chinook|ing work to do when Bul f comeg no man knows when it will| reached the little cabin, The snow go away. He mushed on thru: the| had banked up to the depth of sev softening snow. eral feet around it and had blown There was plenty ally Within an hour the crust was no and packed against the door, He ticeably softer. One hour thereafter | took off one of his snowshoes to and the snow was soft and yiekling | Use as a shovel and stolidly began | as when it had first fallen in carly, the work of removing the barri of heart-brealt | the | ee ‘ WELL. LOOK WHO'S BACK IN DORT AGAIN = TH COMMERCIAL TRAVELER! | HOwWS "TH OLTLOOK; | ON BUSINESS FoR Th COMING VEAR MACK 2 / HANDS we by such a was tired out and he was imaginings. | was empty It was not, visionary danger. He his nerves were torr prey to hie own dark Likely enough the box however, It contained winter. Mushing waa no longer a cade, There was no opening | pleasant pursuit. Henceforth it} door against the pressure of the|® fingle | photograph was simply toll, rigorous and ex.| snow, Besides, the bolt was solidly His eye leaped over, He re! hausting. The snowshoe sank deep, | rusted. | membered now; he had looked at it the snow itself clung to the webs But after a few weary strokes | @Uring Kin former visit to the cabin. and frame until it was almost im-| it occurred to him that the easiest | Years before, It was a typ possible to lift. way would be to cut some sort of | Me#hioned | phy raph — tw A musher in soft, wet ‘anow, can|an opening in the top of the door, |*tanding in stiff and awkward only go at a certain pace. There is | just large enough for his body to/ Poses in an old-fashioned picture no way to hurry the operation and| craw! thru. As the cabin was aban.) Sallery—printed in the timeworr wet speedily over the difficulties.|doned there could be no possible) W4Y No modern ph 5 Any attempt to quicken the pace disadvantage to such an opening: ould have cau a b results only in a fail. The shoe|and since |the fire had to be built cannot be pushed shead as when| outside thé cabin, against backlogs, | Picture n the snow is well-packed or crusted. | the door would have to be left open | Of his fat 4 It has to be deliberately lifted, put-| anyway, to admit the heat. With| been left in the cabin ting the leg tendons to an unnat-|a few strokes of bis sbarp little} One of the m hie owr ural strain. Veamp ax he cut away the planks, | father He had his phot It was too far to turn back. As) leaving a black hole in the door.) sf4ph often enough to recognise it many miles of weary snow stretched He lighted a match and peere in. jee aides remembered the man in behind him as before him. At| The tnterior was unchanged since | the flesh. And nta att Twenty-three Mile cabin he could | bis previous vinit years before. The | other face-—a rather handsome, thin pass @ night as comfortably as at cabin had no floor, not the } lipped, ioe 4 face--an Uf he home; there were food and blankets | Yestige of furniture, and rodents| Were looking at a gho: in plenty, and the well-built hut| had littered the ground with leaves; “Great God,” he cried. “It's Ha contained a stove. Oneé there, be He turned to his toll of making a| 0d Lounsbury could wait for a hard freeze that/fire. Firet he cut down a spruce—| But instantly he knew it cout would be certain to harden the half-|® heart-breaking task with his lit-| ot be Harold Lounsbury, The p thawed snow and make fit for|tle ax—then laboriously hacked it/ ture was y twenty-five years old travel. His only course was to push |!nto lengths. These he bore to the And the face was that of a mature cabin, staggering with the load, He | an, probably aged thirty. Harold on step by step. } ‘The truth suddenly dawned upon him that he was face to face with one of the most uncomfortable sit uations of all hie years in the for-| He tested the wind and found It est. He didn’t believe he would be | Dlowing straight west and awny able to make the cabin before the | from the cabin. He felt oddly tired fall of pight; if indeed he were able | @n4 dull, much too tired to strain to complete the weary miles, it 4nd listen for some whispered mes would only be by dint of the most ¢ of an inner voice that seemed split the logs, cutting some of them into firewood for kindling. Then he made a pile of shavings cruel and exhausting tsbor. He trying so hard to get his at- carried no blankets, and altho with tention, a few little, vague mingiv-| Yet already his inner conscious the aif of his camp ax he could| ings that haunted him. His com-|%¢s# was screaming in his ear th keep some sort of @ fire, a night | fort depended, he toid himself, on| identity of this man. Already he out in the snow and the cold was{ the heat of the fire beating in thru) Knew. It wae no other than Ruth not an experience to think of | the little opening of the cabin door,|¢fford, the man who later, in the lightly. es so he placed the backlog just as| Cavern darkness, had struck bis Bill knew very weil just what/| close as he dared in front. Then | father down. capabilities for effort the human he laid down split pieces for thy (Continued Monday) body holds, It, has ¢ertain definite | frame of his fire and erected his | heap of kindling. He entered thru the opening and stood on the ground below to light the fire. He didn’t desire to craw! thru the flames to enter the limite. After a few hours of such labor as this the body is tired—tired clear thru and aching in®its muscles. Despondency takes the place of hope, the step is somewhat falter ing, hunger assalls and is forgotten,| Reaching as far as he could, he| even the solace of tobacco is denied | ¥a% just able to Insert the candle | because the hand is too tired to|The wind caught it, the kindling grope for and fill the pipe. There | flamed. Then he stood shivering, | after comes a deeper stage of | Waiting for the room to warm. | fatigue, one in which every separ-| He had a sweeping flood of| ate step requires a distinct and | thoughts as he watched the leaping tragic effort of will. The percep-|tlame. Ite cheerful crackie, its tions are blunted, the uncertainty of footfali is more pronounced, the stark reality of the winter wood: partakes of @ @reamlike quality ‘Then comes utter and complete ex haustion. In ite first stages there can still be p few dragging or stakgering steps, a last effort of a brave and commanding will. Perhaps there is even a distance of creeping. But then the march is done There i» no comeback, no rallying. The ab solute limit has been reached. But fortunately, lying still in the snow. bright color in the gloom was almost too good to be true, In these dark forest learned to be wary and guard at too great fortune Quite often it was only a prank of perv forest gods, before amor It seemed to him that thére was a wild latghter, a Satanic mocking in the joyous crackle that was ree but fearfully ominous, The prom ixe in the rainbow, the siren’s song to the mariners, the Uttle dancing light in the marsh—promixing warmth and safety but only turing the wanderer no longer cares. He the weary traveler to this death wonders why he did not yield tolhad this same quality: the cheer this tranquil comfort long since. {the hope, the beauty only to be Bill began to realize that he was bDiasted by misfortune. approaching his own limit. The| The warmth flooded in, and h weary miles crept by, but with a} tragic languor that was like a night- mare. But time flew; only a little space of daylight remained. Bill's leg muscles were aching and burning now, and he had to force himself on by sheer power of his will. He would count twenty five painful steps, then halt. The wind had taken a more westerly course by now, and the enow was no longer melting. The air was more crisp; probably one night would serve to recrust the snow But the fact became ever more evi éent that darkness would overtake him before he could reach the cabin But now. curiously, he dreaded the thougt of pausing and making | a fire. Partly he feared—with t age-old fear that lay buried deep every Geli—the long, bitter night without shelter, fond or blankets but even the labor of fire-bullding appalied his spirit. It would be mighty task, fatigued as he was: first to clear away the snow, cut down trees, hew them Into lengths and eplit them—all with a light camp ax that only dealt/a sparrow blow—then to kneel and stoop and nurse the fire. His woodsman’s senses predicted a bitter night, in epite of the warmth of the day It would) harden the snow again, but it would also wage war against his life. night long he would have to f off sleep #0 that he could mend the fire and cut fuel It muan't be feeble, filekering fire. The ce could get in then. All night long the flame must not be allowed to fag. In bis fatigue i would be; ght they | him with some black disaster. | vaguely | | Lounsbury himself was oniy thirty | And now, looking closer, he saw tures were not quite the was more breeding. sensitiveneas in Harold's f | more And there was also, dim and haunt jing, some alight resemblance wo Kenly Lounsbury, whom he had brought up into Clearwater and who | had gone back with Vosper. | Pretty soon the Land of Eve sunday school. looked about for something to sit| on. He withed he had brought in one of the spruce logs he had cut. But it was too late to procure one now. The flames ¢ at the opening of the cabin; he would be obliged to crawl laboriously thru them to get into the open. Tired out, he lay down on the dry dirt, | putting his arm under his head He would soon go to sleep. * But-his ragged, exhausted nerves would not find rest in « at once. His thoughts were troubling and inpleasant. The pale firelight filled the cabin, dancing against the wails The glare reflected wanly on the ground where he lay All at once he was aware that his e were fastened upon an old cigar box on a shelf against the wall. He seemed to have a remem bered interest in it—as if long ago he had examined its contents with boyish speculations, But he couldn't The Twins helped Buskins to do all sorts of thingy, up in the queer | place tn the sky, which we shall now |have to call the “Land of Every thing.” They found all of the stove's |lidx, scattered far and wide by Whizzy Tornado, and put them on; | they found the wheel for the w on backward and jbarrow, but got the poor thing always had to go backward after that; they milked the cow and gave the milk to a dry Jehurn that said it was losing Sts | hoops: they tied on the pump handle, |pinned the washing on the line Jemptied the dust out of the farmer's |boots, stacked up straw, lay cord wood in neat piles, mended bits broken fen: i pretty soon the Land of Everything looked as order ly as a Sun school, “Well, that'sone!" said Buskins, taking ott his book, “Now the next remember what it contained, Like.|thing Is to return all these things to ly enough it was empty |their owners. We have to keep this | The hours were long, and the|Place pretty well cleared out to make wind walled and crept like a house- | 7 breaker about the cabin; and at last—rather more to pass the time than for any other reason—he | climbed to bis feet and stepped to| (Copyright, 1921 the shelf on which the box ny Au he reached to weize St, he had a distinct premonition of misfortuve It was as if some subtle within him, knowing and re membering every detail of his past and its infinite and exact felations with his present, was warning that to open the box was knowledge that would be consclous nene him to receive hateful to him. Yet be would not be cowed Gairee, the beautiful, had not wait; Jed to be urged from her branch by a wee from an electrically | charged w She had taken her own part in the| cone very well, indeed, and of her | own inittative | Mademoiselle Klsa way responaib! OUR BOARDING HOUSER {WIS DEAL SAVED iH FIRM FROM | GOING ON "H' i RocKS! OFFICE TELEPHONE ) Won't Go WW “TH RECQIVER E 2 H, MACK a Confessions of a Movie Star CHAPTER LXIX—AM I BLIND? AM I DISFIGURED?| he EATTLE STAR HOW DOES “TH” 1 KNEW (Tw T FIGU | FINANCIAL MARKET 1 vou) COMEDIANS WOULD | LOOK TO YoU MACK’H pope UP A SET OF | L WAS TALKIN TOA |! Unge CRACKS TO POP | SciGSOR GRINDER |/on ME WHEN 1 GOT || TODAY AN'HE SAYS |! back fe 1 SiPOSE YALL THINGS LOOK \DuLt to nim! / | WORE OUT Your COATS Xs LAUGHING UP YouR 7, SLEEVE WHILE ‘ f T WAS GONE, EH? fag] | NOW TH’ | OF A oe S Wi ~ eM SHORT BUSINESS TRIP DOWN STATE =" DOINGS OF THE DUFFS__ 1’ SURE WE HAVE ONE, MR.BAILEY, AND YOU'RE WELCOME TO IT IFt ‘ CAN-FIND TT THERE'S THAT , GUY, BAILEY, AGAIN= 1 WONDER WHAT HE WANTS TO BORROW NOW-~ You CAN'T BEAT WHAT DOES HE WANT To BORROW NOW? \ GREAT GUNS! war { WAS THAT Boy IN J THIS Cour 4 Ny pocket P Jt mean—till I said to myself, ‘I've got to let "her know I like her, I've got to let her know, I know; guess she'll know. “My heart, which had grown rything looked as orderly as a little quite heavy for a boy's heart, began to feel light and ex cited, and I looked about for a gift, “"Candy,’ I thought roo mfor the next lot. Whizzy Tor nado usually makes several trips a year, and if he doesn’t come himself, Hurricane Howly or clone are sure to be along "Candy? 1 had been West over do just as much dama 4 year and hadn't seen a plece of dose.” |] candy in a store or anywhere. Pin right,” nid Nick. “Let's be- | “Guia? No we didn't even n | know about chewing gum. And #0 they did. With the magt-| cal appletree elevator and their “An orange! I thought I had wonderful Green von, it was it at last, but when I came to amazing how quickly the tornado |} inquire I found that oranges cost things were returned to earth, Bus 25 cents apiéce. “My heart went down like lead and I walked way off into the kins said that he didn't know how he had ever gotten along before with out the children’s help. One tthe | sure, he sald, he ne could again! woods and sat on a stump with ne going on more \adven my head in my hands and thought tures? asked Nancy | “Goodnesy yea, child,” andwered || how sad it was to be bashful and Buskinas. “The Land-of-Up-in-the. plain! Air is a big place. We ven't be “I got up finafy and walked mun yet. Did you ever hear of the tte te iecsarrasasniseais aici “ame Rs REAPS Runaway Feathers?” (To Be Continued (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) Jot her body thru the atmiospheré and _|had landed on me without waiting *) |for her cue—or for my dummy to be shoved into position, Dick was by my side as soon as |Klaa. The cameras told a most ex Beattie Btar) : the play. “came to” on the softest cot in dugout.” My eyes were covered for the big cat's freedom to do as|with wet bandages, My head ached she pl 4 Mademoiselle Klea had | and felt as large as a bag of flour, been so sure of her pet that e}T ran my fingers over my hair, over had neither doped nor chained her, | my face. pletures were magnificent.| A laundry bag has as attractive She had scolded and snarled at me|an outline as my profile, My entire 16 1 played with her cub and then! head was in wrappings of she had made one magnificent curve white medicated cotton, Gairee's ‘To TAKE OUR CORK SCREW FOR A FEW TROUBLES OF HIS OWN (Chapter 2) “Tavery day it grew worse,” the along slowly, and somehow I blg man went on with his| just happened to walk past the “pecret.” “My dashfuiness, | UeAring that was the new piace I'l give ber a present, then I] citing story, but it had no place in| ¥ OF lis WO\BASE BURNERS Ne 4 aa U3). )FUNNELS AND 4 PEABO CL WRINGE RS If a SMS NG il Y llc aT STS A Double Surprise HE WANTS TOM IF MINUTES ~ OH LET IT GO, GOING To BEA AUNT SARAH PEABODY, LEADER OF THE SOCIETY , FOR. SUPPRESSION OF PIPE SMOKING, DESTROYED “SIX PIPES AND SOME CIGARETS IN A RAID TODAY 7S OLOMAN - "LL FIND Page 579 | the pretty little girl's father was making into a home for the fam ily. | “There were stumps on the place, and some of it was cleared of stumps and grain seemed to be planted in that part, but—no sir, | there wasn’t. My heart acted up again, for I had made a discovery. My beau- tiful little girl ta single vegetable in her garden. Indeed, shp hadn't any garden at al “Hands in pockets, lips pucker. ha ed into a cheerful whistle, 1 trudged off with my head full of a plan, | “At last T had an offering Wit to make. I could take her a gift T liked her friends, gven though 1 was too bashful to say and she would know and wanted to be When I got home, I went in i} | the without and | thru | touching a thing, I let my eyes | make careful selection of what 1 garden, wanted.” (To Be Continued) nner | What the first aid of 50 intelligen |persons could accomplish had beer done for me, The phone wire whict had been strung thru the forest |brought a country doctor from the | Nearest town. He would stay with me until a jcertain famous specialist summoned |by Jong distance should arrive. “Don't tell Motherdear! Don’t tell Motherdear!* ‘That was my only reply when any- one asked what could be done to make me comfortat 1 didn't was blind or not. 1 didn't whether I was scared, T only real ized that I was a litue girl who was know myself whether 1/ know IT IN AMINUTE! 2 = eee a iferfig a good deal and that 1 was Jone among strangers And because I was alone, I must be ery brave, The specialist came, examined ne, refused to make a positive de- pyelids were swollen tight, and scratches across my fore- head and cheek, He was very in- fefinite, Blood poisoning might de velop. He felt sure the eyeballs were not injured, But he didn’t wish to speak Positively. Ete.!° 1 made Mrs, Nandy tell me what he said. He wanted to get me back to town as speedily as possible. So Cissy put his new car to good use. It was a long trip home to Motherdear by auto but easier for me than a railroad journey, Mrs, Nandy went with mo, but T wouldn't let Demaison break up the THANKS TOM ILL RETURN IT IN THE MORNING +1 WANT TO OPEN A BOTTLE OF OLIVES FOR. THE WIFE ~ RT| BY BLOSSER ‘ joann The members of the pany were always in need of ti |salaries, Much could be done out me. I didn’t see why people cussed the advisability of stayin | Mrs. Nandy gave it away aa @ {speeded nomewart. “Such a pity that our last 4 had to be chopped like this,” she # to Cis e “We'll finish it all right," he @ claimed cheerfully—then chan subject. So that was it! Trust little Anderson to give a secret away, | Demaison had hesitated keeping the company on locatt cause there was a probability the play wag chopped short. If 1 were seratehed up-pblim lit never could he finished, Continued)