The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 26, 1922, Page 11

(Continaed From Page 6 Resides, bis father's wicked Was prompting his every step. He threw the cigaret away and Slanced oritically at the rifles of his two confederates. The breeds wait @4 patiently for him to “Where's Sindy? he asked at last They began to wonder if he had led them here just to ask about Sindy, and for an instant they were Sullenly unresponsive. But the heavy lines on their master’s face foon reassured them. “Over Buck Shot Dan'e—just where you said,” Joe replied. “Of course Ruckshot took her back?” The Indians nodded. “Weil, Tm going to let him keep ber. I've fot a white squaw now—and soon Tm going Out with her-—to the Out side. Bue there's things to do frst. Bin) bas found the mine.” The others nodded gravely, They expected some such development. “And Bill is as blind as a mole— Bot caught in a cabin full of green Wood smoke. He'll be able to see Again in a day or two, So I sent for you right away.” ‘The breeds nodded again, a trific Jess phiegmatically. Perhaps Pete's eyes had begun to gieam-——such a gleam ag the ptarmigan sees in the eyes of the little weasel, leaping thru the snow. “The mine's worth millions—more money than you can dream of. Bach ef you get a sixth—onethird divi between you. You'll never get more money for one night's work. More than you can spend, if you live « hundred winters. But you agree first to these terms—or you won't know where the mine ts. “Me—I want a fourth.” Joe an- swered sulleniy. “AN right. Turn around and go home. 1 don't want you.” It was a bluff, but it worked. Joe fame to terms at once. Treacher us himself and expecting treach blood @ry, Hurold wisely decided that he| Wouldn't divulge the location of the mine, however, until all needed Work was done. “As soon as we've finished what Trve planned, we'll tear down his claim notices and put up our own, then go down to the recorder and fecord the claim.” Harold went on. “Then it's ours. No one will ever guess. No one'll make any trouble @f the story, and be had pertinent question. “The squaw. Maybe she'll tellt™ Harold glared at him. The man fnferred that bé couldnt master his @wn woman. “Didn't you hear me gay she was my squaw? I'll tend to her. Besides—the way I've got very white you two, and don't make any mix take. I've got to go back to the cabin now—try to be there before they wake up. They're both tired out from a hard experience yester- day—and, as 1 told you, Bill's as blind as @ gopher. “Both of you are to come to the eabin, just about dark. You'll tell me you have been over Bald Peak way and are hitting back toward the Yuga village. Bring along & quart of booze — firewater —and Maybe two quarts would be better. We'll have supper, and you'd better bring along ecomething in your pock 4t for yourselves. It will put the pirl in @ better mood. And now— Jou see what you've got to dor” Neither of them answered. They could guers—bdut they didn't con- ceive of the real brilliancy of the pian. “If you can't, you're dummies. It's just this"—and Horold’s face érew into an unlovely snarl—"gome- ime in the early evening give Bill hat's coming to him.” “Do him off———?" Joe asked etol- idiy. be him out like I stamp thir snow!” He paused, and the two breeds leaned toward him, waiting for the next word. They were fot phiggmatic now. They were im bued with Harold's own passion. and their dark, savage faces told the story. Their features were be- ginning to draw, even as his; their eyes were lurid slits above the bigh eheek bones. “Make it look like a fight.” Har eid went on. “Insult him—better stil, get in a quarrel among your selves. He'll tell you to shut up, and one of you flame up at him Then strike the life out of him be fore be knows what he's about He's blind and he can't fight. Then go back to my cabin and bide out * "No food in cabin.” Joe objected. “Get some from you?” For a moment Harold was baf- fied. Thin was a singularly unfor tunate circumstance. But he soon gaw the way out “So you've used Bp all the eupplies, eh? Got any ” “Still two bottles frewater— " Go04. The trouble is that there's po food at Bill's cabin, either—not enough to last a day Bring what you have for your supper tonight or as much of it as you need—and after you're thru with Bill go back to your cabin and get what you have left— 4 “There won't be none left—" “are you so low as that? Then, listen, Do you know where Bill's Twenty Th ce Mile cabin is?” Pete nuued. Joe made no re sponse. “Then you can find it, Pete. 1| haven't any idea where it in myself. It's only a day's march, and he's got it packed with grub. You hide out there, and the little food w have left in the cabin’ll be enough to take us down there too—the woman and I-—we'll follow your gnowshoe tracka. Then we'll make it thru to the Yuga from there. And if we have to, we can go over to @ grizzly carcass I know of and cut if = few pounds of meat—but we on’t have to. Weill join you at the Twenty-three Mile cabin to morrow night.” Pete the Breed “Bear over—east?” “Somewhere over replied. “Don't guess any bear meat Heard eoyotes—hundred of ‘em over east. Pack of wolves came thru too—sang song over there.” looked doubtful he ther left speak. | *j}taken part of the inflammation out | Joe's mind seemed to leap ahead | "| “Welt, Harold | |_ "THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 1922. oe Trail ¢ Harold could agree with him. If | indeed the wolves and the coyotes eray eat skulk ekele had gathered—starvir ers of the forest—th ton would have been strip by now. However, it didn't compl cate hia own problem. The Indians could get down to the Twenty-three Mile cabin with the morse! of food they had left—he and Virginia could | follow thetr trail with the fragments of supplies remaining in Bill's cabin | “You can go from there to the Yuga and hide out,” Harold went “I'l go down to the recorder's | on. | office with the woman. Don't wor-| }ry about ber; she'll keep still, And if by any chance #he doesn't, I'l tell ‘om that you were two Indlane from the East Selkirks, give ‘en a couple of false names and send ‘em on & goose chase. It's simple as day and doesn't need any nerve } And if you've got it thru your heads, | \i'm going back to the cabin.” | | ‘They had it thru their heads. The plan, as Harold said, was exored ingly simple They digested = it slowly, then nodded. But Pete bad fone more question—one that was wholly characteristic of his weasel soul “What you want us to uset he Jasked. “This? He indicated thin blade at bis thigh. “Maybe use rifle? ; Harold's eyes looked drowsy when he answered. Something like a fust, }a desire swept over him; this ques | tion of Pete's moved him in dark | and evil ways, “Oh, I don’t know,”| he replied, “It doesn’t much’ mat | \ten——." He epoke in a strained, | | thiek volee that was vaguely excit-| ing to the two breeds. For a few! seconds he seemed to stand listen ing, rather than In thought, and he continued his reply as if he were) scarcely aware of his own words It was as if a voice from the past was speaking thru his lps. The | words came with no conscioun ef | fort; rather were they the dread outpourings of an inberent fester in his soul, His father’s blood was lin the full ascendancy, at last. “There's an old pick in the cabli in the |ter when he wakened-—full daylight. The warm wet clothe had) when he strained to/ igen the lids, he was aware of «| Uttie, dim gleam of light. He couldn't make out objects, however, | and except for @ fleeting shadow he could not discern the hand that} he swept before hin face Several days and perhaps weeks would pass before the full strength of his sight | returned. His greatest hope at present was that he could grope his way about the cabin and build a fire for Vir- ginla, Whether she wished to «et up or not today, the growing chil! in the room must be removed. He sot up, fumbled om the floor for! such of his outer garments as Vir of them, and }ginla had removed, and after a/ world of difficulty managed to ge’ them on. He was amazingly re |fresned by the night's sleep and| Virginia's nursing. His eyes throb | bed, of course; his Tuscies were lame and painful, his head ached and his arme and legs seemed to/ be dismembered, yet he knew that | complete recovery was only a mat ter of hours } Building the fire, however, was «| grievous task. He felt it incum beat upon him to move with utmost caution so that Virginia would not waken. By groping about the walls he encountered the stove It was pleasantly warm to his hands, and| when he opened the door he found| that hot coals were stil! glowing in| the ashes. Then he fumbled about | the floor for such fuel aa Harold had provided | He tound a plece at last, and) soon a cheery crackle told him that it had ignited. He grinned with de }lght at the thought that he, al Tost stone blind, had been able to build @ fire in a room with a sleep: | ing girl and not waken her. But his joy was a trifle premature. At that Instant he tripped over a piece of firewood and his handa crashed against the logs. “Oh, biast my clumsiness™ he whispered; then stood etill as death to wee what had befallen, Virginia stirred behind her curtain | “In that you, Harold?” she asked. | She was wide awake, and further deception was unavailing, “No. It's Bill” | what are you doing, np?! Did Harolé—do you mean to say you built the fire yourself?” | “That's me, lady——-” “Then you must have your sight again——.” The girl snatched aside |the cortain and peered into his face. “No such luek. Coals were atil! giowing; all T had to do was to put |in a piece of firewood. But I'm all | well otherwise, as far aa I can tel | How about you?” | The girl etretched up her arms {“A little stiff. I've cert y ned recuperative powers wince I lcame up here. But, Heavens, I've | had bad dreams. And now-—I want you to tell me just how this blind |ness of yours—is going to affect [our getting out.” It was a serious question, one to whieh Bill already given much | thought. "I don't wee how it can fect us a, great deal,” he an swered at lant. “I realize you don't |know one step of the way down to Bradieybure, and I can't see the way; but Harold knows it perfect Of course 4f we had plenty of fooe the thing to do would to till I get wight But you know—we haven't sear y food at all. The last of meat Is gone, except one little plec sensible wait back my lof Jerky, We've got a cup or two of flour and one or two eans. Of| jcourse there ian't enough to get | | dow 1 to the settlements on.” “Then we'll have to use the ertz | ny—after all “OL course. ‘Thank him to fall back on him, 1 don’t think till I get back my We might have other delays, and perhap: other softening of the crust. It will God we ut even had we ought to wait | ant be pretiy annoylug — waveling ou! Motherdoar which depressed me.’ had eg her precious Galree and Clmy had dono but in what a “As for the bandages—it may be! care of meo—whether I am blind or told him. “Harold and I ean do the - 1T WON'T LIGHT~ work of camp. “There won't be much to do, un fortunately, our camping wil! have to be exceedingly simple. We'll take the sled full of blankets and grizsly meat and what other little things | we need. I don't see why you can't ride on it, too—snost of the way; the going is largely downhill and crust is perfect. We can skim | banging on the gee pole lis covered with snow SEATTLE STAR BY AHERN THERE NoW= DOESNT THAT SOUND LIKE A STAR BOARDE! COMING 2 GIVING HIM “TH! THE OUR BOARDING HOU 1 AMEXPECTING AN SRY, WHO 15 THIS ARRIVAL. “TOMORROW NIGHT }7 RoVAL PERSONAGE BUSTER, AND I WONDER }i comin! THATS So SNAPPY H \F YouD OBJECT 70 I WAVE To SwaP STALLSH BEST SNORE CHAMBER | CHANGING YouR ROOM?! eo ‘em? GOSH, WHEN |) INTH STABLE! = 1 WOULDNT 1 CAN LET You HAVE] 11 ac INST! NAVY THEY] | STAND FOR “HAT != EVEN IF THE ROOM IN THE BACK! | Soir Move ME “To | | IT WAS'BABE RUTH COMING, NEXTTO MR.HOVT®= || Aisuer goxrguer | \i WOULDN'T BAT AN EYE< H\ Wkilow rs wick / | gecause TH’ ADMIRAL ye ‘) AND HOMEY! WAS COMIN! ON eee «ll DOINGS OF THE DUFFS OW DEAR! 1 DON'T | I'VE GOT AN IDEA- WHEN FEEL LIKE GETTING | HE COMES HOME TONIGHT DINNER “TONIGHT~ PRETEND You ARE | WISH "TOM WouLD | TURNING ON THE GAS IN TAKE US OUT THE STOVE BUT DON’T SOMEPLACE~ [] OMe PLACE} a MATCH TO IT srimly flesh—and pretty awkward & biind man tn the party be some good anyway but rm Maybe I can cut fuel.” The girl was deeply touched tt Was #0 character of this man that even in his blindness be wixhed to make the difficulties of the jour ney just an light aa pomible for ber. “I won't let you do a thing,” jong. At night we'll have to sleep oat—and not get much sleep, either but by going bard, even on snow shoes, we can make it thru in thr dayr—sleoping out t tw Herold and I can build raging fires —he starting them and helping me with the fuel cutting. Ob, I know Virginia, I won't be much good of this trip~and those two nights will You be pretty terrible We'll have to 7 sip td take turne in watching the fire CANT WAVE ANY But with blankets around our shou! ders, acting as reflectors for the heat, we can get some rest.” “But you are eure Harold knows the wayT 1 couldn't even get as far aa the river, and you are bling" “Harold Knowe the way as well as I do I can mush all right, by It will be the brush The ont thing that remains is to have Har old go over and get a supply of the grimly meat. Or, better still he'll have to take the sled. we can Pick it up on the way out. It's frozen hard and won't take harm and it’s only a haif mile out of our way.” OF MY APPLE = TM 6ONNA EAT 1T ALL MYSELF comparatively easy going: since (Continaed Tomorrow) ADVENTURES OF THE TWINS Clive Roberts Barton ar *& * eee arene For a long, long time Pegey and David have been promised a vinit to “Martha.” said: “Now don't let me forget; the very first bright day, I'm going to take you up to see Martha.” ‘ thing would get in the way, and it was, as I said, @ very jong, long time before the promise was car ried out. But at last a bright day came, and Pogry and David reminded Grandmother and nothing was tn That's not snow, it’s feathers. | A madden ewiri of white, Muffy fakes filled the air as Nancy and Nick followed Mr, Crampleg Crane/ amazed to speak. But finally Nancy said timidly, “Are we almost there?” “Just about,” anawered the crane to his factory stalking gravely on. *“Yen, there is Kerehoot sneezed Nancy. the factory now just ahead. But, the, way te prevent ‘thelr Gone, “Ku-huk?” coughed Nick hark! What do T heart And Mr.|] and they were sitting in “Mar “Brerrr!’ they both shivered. |Crane stopped suddenly, putting aif tha’s* cozy living room, asking “Where did the snow come from? foot behind one of his ears, the bet- questions as if they had known Why it's hot as summer down on ter to entch a sound. | the earth and the blossoms are all) “Mocking cradies! he exclaimed her always instead of just @ few out on the trees?’ in an exasperated volcan, “It's those |] minutes. Ruskins laughed and Mr. Crane | silly storks. ‘They're back agnin. I ¥en," whe said, smiling bright: turned around and looked at them can't keep ‘em supplied.” | ly at David, “Yes, my name was “What with?" cried Nick, too | ; bi Martha Crow; yeas, T was the sis ous to be either polite or grammatt- | all solemnity, ‘You musn’t ery be fore you are hurt, children, or shiver before you are cold,” he said. | onl ter of that same Joe Crow who “That's not sow. It's feathers. It's| “Raby comforts.” answered Mr had the splendid dog, Yes, I roowmplucking time and Mra|Crampleg Crane. “They come here | pice was ttle when I a Smith's hard at ft down on her farm. |and get soft pinky-biue silk onea|{ om? pid “g " wht sede If you notice, them feathers are | before they fly off to Rabyland. ‘They little girl, and if you oi coming up to the sky, not going eet them to carry the new bables || me half @ chance I will tell you down to the earth, Also you are in, Why I Just gave each of ‘em || about it not catching cnld. Some of the/about half a dozen and they've used feathers are getting Into your none|them all up already, Well, they'll “Ay father, etarted West to the and windpipe. I hope I have made just have to wait until we get new| eae | a sae things clear ones made.” Yes, yen, indeed.” answered Pus. (To Be Continued) given the, old girl the dope, And kins for them, as the Twins were too! (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) | how-—1 can never forgive myself! Dick wanted to eee me. I knew why, It was not like bim to be- | lieve, the talk of the studios. He | would want to #ee me and make his own decision about my condition. He would get whatever truth Moth- erdear possessed, He came by appotntment. I wore the pretty invalid's negliges tn which I bad received Clesy, I sat in the Confessions of a Movie Star (Copyrinht, 1921, Beattie star) I RECEIVE A CALL FROM DICK CHAPTER LXXIII Seven days dragged by--days of One paragraph ran. ce ghatr, t plarel Wie ay ben doubt and dread “I never trusted the big ent. T}quet. But somehow when T heard From Diek Barnes 1 heard dafly never trusted Bisa She was toola m step in the room, I felt an Once came a bunch of violets, out| confident and set on managing the|clectric element in the situation of season and hard to obtain. And| beasts in her own way, I should|which the other had lacked once came a letter from him to|have found out whether or not she’ “May!” Dick cried out, exactly as Page 583 “MARTHA” Grandmother | Then this, that, and the other| THE OLD HOME TOW AY Hh t BILL DORN, ASSISTANT \ DON’T KNOW WHAT {"™ GOING TO DO ABOUT DINNER,TOM~- THERE IS NO GAS! Now Pop Will Have to E: Qrattle * spring of 1849, with the rest of the “forty-ninerw’ who were rush- ing to California to find gold. “My cradle was the big jolting wagon drawn by an ox team, for 1 was one of those babies born on the plains, “We didn’t ro on to California. | My father was an expert at his | trade and when we reached Os- wero; he had a good business of fer made him, and we were there for awhile and it was not until I | was eleven years old that we | started for Brattle. “Seattle had two boats a week “and no trains at all at that | time (1860), so we boarded the | steamer ‘Brother Jonathan’ at | Portland, and came around to Port Townsend. | “It's @ rough trip, that, and | being a little ‘land-tubber 1 Promptly got wea-sick. | “How that boat did rock and | rel! And how little brother and | I suffered in our berth! Only two | things kept the journey from | being a regular nightmare—roses and the second mate.” (To Be Continued |shocked and sympathetic ton: It thrilled me, made me feel sorry for myself! Tears came, and a wave |of color spread over my face. And | was glad that my features were covered by medicated cotton. “May! It's 60 much . worse—* Dick stopped as if that were quite the wrong speech to make to me. “The bandages — your eyes — when will you see?" he demanded. “Perhaps not at all! Perhaps— never again! At that, the most astonishing thing happened. The man was on his knees at my «ide. I felt his forehead on my arm, his tears wet my hand. GOING IN TRE WAITING GATHERED To SEE THE PAY CAR PAGE 11 BY STANLEY Sor il OT hil NCKET AGENT, HAD A GOOD FIRE ROOM BY THE TIME “THE 0 ae COME IN. "AL nin oo y OLIVIA, STOP “THA GIGGLING BEFORE You GIVE IT ALL AWAY ! ynlain NO, THIS ONE ISN'T DARK GNOLUGH —— OUT THE WRONG PLACE } THERE'S A MILLINER ACROSS THS STREST HH las well if I never take them of continued. “What do you mean?™ “That I may look better—with a white mas “What they say at the studios— is true?” he whispered, “It may bef" I ventured. “May! May! Are you well enough to let me talk to you seriously?" Yes! Yes!” I whispered eagerly and then with forced reserved “There's nothing the matter with my nerves, and in spite of my scars Ican still hear! Talk on—Jimmy! “Then you may never ect again?”| “You're a brave girl, May!" “Possibly !" There was a long pause. T Jet “May, youl need a man te take; the minutes drag. It was Dick's care of youl" turn to talk. If he had any ideas ‘When Cissy was with me fhe last | about the kind of man I needed ta time I had felt awfully Independent. | protect me, I wished to hear them, Blind or not, I felt capable of man- (To Be Continued) aging my own affairs, ie With Jimmy Alcott shedding tears Highteen per cent of our fe ‘ on my hand I lost my morale, But ) land is reserved . what I eo lost I gained in femi-| "4, reserved as Permanent nay “ROLDTS COFFEE NOW FIVM CENTS.—Advertisement, 44 “I--1 might—need a man to take 2