The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 27, 1922, Page 13

(Continued From Page © what little food they had, they start @t onca The time had not yet} come to unfold this knowledge He nodded. The day passed like | those preceding—simple mealay a} few hours of talk around the fire, | @uch fuel cutting as was necesmry to keep the cabin snug and to pro-| Vide a supply for the night. This was their last day in Clearwater— f@nd Virginia could hardly accept the truth. How untrue had been her gayety! Tm all the white Nes of her past, all the little pretenses that are as much a part of life in civilization @s bufldings and streets, she had) Mever been as false to herself as mow. She had never had to act a Part more cruel—that she could feel Joy at the prospect of her depart | ue She could decetve herself no! Jonger. The events of the previous | @ny had opened her cyes—in @mall measure at ieast—and her) thoughts groped tn vain for a single | @nticipation, a single prospect that | could lighten the overpowering | ‘weight of her sadness. And the one hope that came to her was that strange sister of despair—that back %m ber old life, in her own city, full forgetfulness might come to her. Wasn't it true that she would say ®eod-by to the bitter cold and the snow wastes? Was there no joy in| this? Yet those same solitydes had | brought her happiness that, tho pow | to be Diasted, had been a revelation | and a wonder that no words could Mame or no triumphs of the future could equal. The end of her ad Venture—and she felt it might ‘well be the end of her life. Three ttle days of bitter hardship, Bill ramping at her side—and then a Jong, dark road leading nowhere ex-! @=pt to barren old age and death. | Never again would she know the/ ‘winter forest, the silence and the mystery, and the wolf pack chant-| ing with infinite sadness from the Ril. The North Wind, a reality} Row, would be a forgotten myth whe would forget that she had seen the woodland caribou, quivering ‘with irrepressible vigor against the @nowfields. The thrill, the exhilar | ation of battle, the beat of red blood | in her veins would be strangers | foon: the whole adventure would| @eem Uke some happy, impoasible | @ream. Never to hear « friendly ‘voice wishing her good morning. | ever a returning step on the} hreshold, the touch of a strong Band in a moment of fear! She ‘Was aghast and crushed at the real-| Seation that this man was going out @f her life forever. She would leave him to his forests—their shadows | Riding him forever from her gaze. She found it hard to believe that could fit inte her old niche. way, this northern adventure | hhad changed the very fiber of her @eul. She could find no joy at the thought of the old gayeties she bad) @nce loved, the beauty and the) Warmth. Was it not true that Har | @ld would go out beside her, the lover of her girlhood? His uncle) Would start him in business; her| course with him would be smooth But her hands were cold and her beart sick at the thought. As the hours passed, the realiza- @ion of her impending departure feemed to grow, like a horror, in fher thoughts. She still made her Pathetic effort to be gay. It would mot do for these men to know the truth, so she laughed often and her words were joyous. She fought Back the tears that burned in her eyelids. She could only play the game; there was no way out. She could conceive of no circum stances whereby her fate would be tered. She knew now, as well as @he knew the fact of her own life, that she had been trapped and gnared and cheated by a sardonic @estiny. For the moment she Wished she had never fought her way back to the cabin with Bill after yesterday's adventure, but that wide by side in the drifts, they had Bielded to the Shadow and the cold. Thru the dragging hours of after moon Harold seemed restless and un. @asy. He smoked impatiently and {was nervous and abstracted in the hours of talk. But the afternoon @ied at last. Once more the shad ws lengthened over the snow; the @usk grew; the first, bright stars thrust thru the gray canopy above them. Virginia went to the work @f cooking supper—the last supper $m this little, unforgettable cabin in the snow. Both Bim and Virginia started with amazement at the sound of tapping knuckles on the door. Har @id's eyes were gleaming. xXTX Harold exw fit to answer the door | Pimseif. He threw it wide open;) Virginia's startled glance could just out two swarthy faces, singn-| Jarly dark and unpreposseming, in| the candlelight. She experienced a! @wift flood of fear that she couldn't understand: then forced it away as/| an absurdity. “We—we mushin’ over to Yuga— been over Bald Peak way,” Joe said! stumblingly. “Didn't know no one was here. Want a bunk here to} night.” “You've got your own blankets?” “Yes, We got blankets.” “On your way home, eh? Tl have to ask this lady.” Harold seemed strangely nervous @s he turned to Virginia. He won @ered if this courteous reference to} her was a mistake; could it be that | fhe would object to their staying? | It would make, at best, an awkward | situation. However, he knew th Girl and he felt safe, He €loned the door “a couple of Indians, going home foward the settlement on the Yuga,’ he quickly They've ome from over toward Bald Peak | nd were counting on putting up here tonight. That's the woods cus tom, you know—to etay at any-| Body's cabin. They didn’t know we were here and want to stay, any Wel, half explained FRIDAY, JANUARY 27, 1922. ! utiea. “They've likely got their own food.” “Of course they can stay. Bill! ean sleep on the floor tin here—you | can take the two of them with you into the little cabin. It will be pretty tight work, but we can't do anything else. Bring them tn." Harold turned again to the door, and in a moment the Indians strode, blinking, into the candlelight. The brighter light did not reveal them at greater advantage. Virginia shot them « swift glance and was in etinetively repelled: but at once she ascribed the evil savagery of their faces to racial trait. She went back to her work. Bill, sitting against the cabin wall, tried to make sense out of @ con fused Jumble of thoughts and im pressions and memories that flooded in one wave to his mind. His few hours of blindness had seemingly sharpened his other senses: and there was a quality tn the half breed's voice that was distinctly familiar, He had assumed at once that the two breeds were Joe and Pete whom he had encountered when when he first found Harold. Why, then, had the latter made no sign of recognition? Why should he repeat # manifest Ne—that they had been over toward Bald Peak and were traveling toward the Yuga, and that they thought the cabin was unoceupied? He remem dered that he had given these par tleular Indians definite orders to stay away from the district. Out- wardly he was cool and at ease, his face impassive and grave; in his inner self he was deeply perturbed and suspicious, Of course, there was a possibility that he was mistaken in the voice. | He resolved to know the truth. “Ite Joe and Pete, tant itt asked abruptly in the silence ‘There was no reply at first. Vir sinia did not glance around in time to see the lightning signal of warn- ing from Harold to the Indiang yet she bad an inner sense of drama and suspense, She bad never heard quite this tone in Bill's votee before It was hard, uncompromising, some way | menacing. “I say.” he repeated slowly, “are you Pete and Joe, or | aren't your" “Pete—Joe™ Joe answered at last. in @ bewildered tone. Harold him-| self could not have given a better! «imulation of amazement. “Don't know ‘em. I'm Wolfpaw Black— he's Jimmy—Jimmy DuBois.” The names were convincing—typ ical breed names, the latter with a touch of French. But Harold's ad. miration for the resourcefulness of his confederate really was not jus Joe badn’t originated the two names. He had spoken the first two that bad come to his mind —the names of a pair of worthy breeds from a distant encampment Except for a little Mogering un- easiness, Bill was satisfied. It would be easy to mistake the voice He had heard it only a few times in his life Virginia went on with her supper preparations, and at last the three of them drew chairs around their crude little table. The two breeds took their lunch from their packs and munched it, aitting beside the stove. The night had fallen now, tmpen etrably dark, and the Northern Lights were flashing like aerial searchlights in the sky. The five of them were singularly quiet, deep in their own thoughts, Bill heard his watch ticking loudly in his pocket. All at once Joe grunted tn the stillness, ang all except Bill whirled to look at him He went to his pack and fumbled among the blankets. Then, a greedy light in his eyes, he put two dark bottles upon the tabla Bil, unseeing, @4 not understand. His finer senses, however, told him that the alr was suddenly electric, charged with suspense, Virginia was frankly alarmed. In her past life she had had tnt! mate acquaintance with strong drink. While it was true that she had never partaken of it beyond an he occasional cocktail before dinner, it | was common enough in the circle in which she had moved. She was used to seeing the men of her ac- quaintonce drink whisky-and-sodas, and many of her intimate girl friends drank enough to harden their eyes and injure thelr complex fons. She herself had always re garded it tolerantly, thinking that much of the hue and ery that had been rained about it was sheer sen timentality and absurdity. She didn't know that evil genii dwelt tn the dark waters that could change men into brutes: such mild exhilar- ation as she had recelved from an unusually potent cocktail had only seemed harmless and amusing. But she was not tolerant now She was suddenly deeply afraid. She looked at Bil, forgetting for the moment that fn his blindness he not see what was occurring that in his helpleesness not depend upon him in a She turned to Harold, hop. ing that he would refuse this offer ing at a word. And her fear tn creased when she saw the craving on his face. Harold had gone a tong time without strong drink. The sight of the dark bottles woke his old pas sion for it in a h. His blood jeaped, a strange and dreadful eagerness transcended him. Vir ginia was horrified at the sudden. insane light in his eyes, the drawing of his features “Have a drink?” Joe invited. could and could Till started then, but he made no respons Harold moved toward the table. “You're a lifesaver, Wolfpaw,” he replied genially. “It's a cold night, und I don’t care if I do, Virginia, pass down the cup | Of course there were not enough leups to go around. There were three of tin, however, counting one that Bill had made from an empty “You'll drink?” Joe asked Bill. way. Do you think we can put ‘em up?” “Good Heavens, we can’t send therm on, on a night like this. It te awkward, tho—about food—” : can ‘The woodseman’s fice was grave. “Wolfpaw, it’s against the law of this province to give or receive iquor from Indians,” he replied gravely. “ won't drink tonight.” ehe | WELL, WELL, WELL = BLESS > Pete turned with a scowl His thought had already flashed to the white blade at his belt. “You're damn particular——” he began. But Joe shook his head, restrain- ing him. The hour to strike had not yet come They must enjoy thetr liquor first and engender fresh courage from its fire, He saw fit, however, to glance about the room and locate the weapon of which Harold had epoken—the deadly mip er’e pick that leaned against the wall back of the stove. Curiously, Virginia's thought flung to weapons, too, She had taken off her pistol when she had been nursing Bill and hadn't put it on since. Quietly, so as not to at tract attention, she glanced about to locate it It was hanging on a ail at the opposite end of the table —and Joe stood just beside It, She had no desire to waken his « had must put up @ bold front, at least. Nevertheless her fingers longed for resolved to watch for a chance to “Have a @rtnkT™ Joe asked Vir- gina Sho Gidn’t Mke the tone of his voice. He was speaking with en tire familiarity, and again she ex pected interference from Harold. Her fiance, however, was fingering the bottia She mw Bill straighten, ever so little, and beheld the first signs of rising anger in the set of his ps. But she didn't know the full flercenens of his inward «trum gie—an almost resistiens destre to spring at once and smite those im pertinent tones from the breed's pe. But he knew that he must take care—for Virginia’s sake—and avoid a fight as long an it was bu manly passible to do so. “No,” the girl responded coldty. “Then the enough cups after all," Harold observed. “I was go ing to take the pitcher, tf either Virginia or this conscientious tee totaler cared for a shot.” He chuckled unpleasantly “I thought I could get more that way.” They poured themecives mighty rinks — staggering portions that the quarta. Then they threw back their heads and drained the cups The Uquor was cheap and new, such as reaches the Indian encamp- ments after passing thru man hands. It burned like fire tn their throats, and almost at once tt be. gan to distill ite polson into their veins. -Harola and Pete tmmediately re sumed their chairr; Joe still stood at the table end. He, too, had seen | the Kittie pistol of blue steel hang. ing on the nail. men were sullen and silent, ing the first warmth of the liquor. Then the barriers of self-restraint began to break down. Harold began to grow talkattve, launching forth on an amusing aneo dote. But there was no laughter at the end of it The Indians were picions of her fear. She knew she! the comforting feel of its butt. She; more than half-emptied the first of | At first the three} never given to mirth in thetr de| | bauches, Virginia |were far indeed from a receptive | | humor. “What's the matter with this crowd—cant you see a joke?” Har old demanded. “Say, Bull, over} |there—you who wouldn't take a/ gentleman's drink—what yon stt- ting on a there like an old marmot for | Why don't you AMOS | OH DEAR OW DEAR OH DEAR!“ ~ z le , =o) Biers. HooPe's GLOBE TROTTING HUSBAND COMES BACK HOME | =- be rock pile? DOINGS OF THE DUFFS TOM, | WANT To GET THIS Room STRAIGHTENED UP - MISS SWEET JUST CALLED AND SHE’S GOING YO STOP IN To SEE ME- OH THAT'S THE SWELL ‘You LAND ALIVE ! BY AHERN " 11'S MRS. HOOPLES|— HUSBAND WHO HAS} ~ BEEN GONE NIGH ON “TEN YEARS! 2 b . LOOKING GIRL INTRODUCED ME ‘TO AT THE THEATER! join in the festivities?” | For a speech, feeling | thee, “Y could get a not in a Virginia suddenly “Where did you came very if I were you— much of that. you know.” on COO}i ADVENTURES OF THE TWINS Clive Roberts Barton her | There contempt thanks to yon. enjoy: | before I came here I lived where I nk when I wanted it, the rudeness of Harold's {ll answered quietly. festive 1a tonight. wnday-school.” was live Harold?” sudden, leaned forward. you before she asked. in her votee (Continued Tomorrow) “THE BABY COMFORT” Pretty soon the travelers came to|ed Mr. Crane, wagging his head, “and each stork with a stubborn dis- When it happens this way, as it sometim | out of silk, or elderdown, or both, I just think up a riddie, ‘The first| stork giving the correct answer gets | But the trouble is, I've} They know all} know the big front door of the factory that Mr. Crane had been telling them about. Just inside stood a dozen storks arguing noisily, That was the sound Nancy and Nick and Buskins had heard as they came down the road of this queer country. They were still in the sky, you know, in the Land of Runaway Feathers. And th arguing ‘There was only one pinky-blue silk comfort to be had, and each stork demanded it, enyt he was on his way to Babyland to take a brand new baby to a mortal family, and how could he with noth ing to carry it tn! | Mr. Crampleg Crane st he, hum,” he said in resigned ltone, ‘It will have to be a riddle I guess, It's the only way sont hed. “Ho, again, out.” “puddlem said Nick, looking very “How can a riddie do | much puzzled. any good?" “One comfort—12 storks,” answer. CHAPTER LX} “I'd like to speak with your Motherdear, May?" “Push the button next the door for was what the storks were | posit the comfort. run out of mins. ones?” fon. the nurse, at home. welcomed youl!” of riddles Do you No,” Nancy remarked fully, “but I can make one up.” any | ‘So much the better! But Buskins had something to ray. “I know a common sense riddle,” mid he. Ask them, ‘What's the dif, ference tetween a jumping Jack and| a baby? and if they know.” | Mr. Crane nodded approvingly. “It nds importa he remarked, so} turning to the storks he repeated the | question | ‘The storks wnegled thelr heads “That's a hard one,” they said “We'll have to think (To Be Continued (Copyright, 1922, Seattle Stard Confessions of a Movie Star (Copyright, 1021, Seattle Star) IV-tA CUTBACK TO THE PAST I think Motherdear Is not Otherwise, she would have “Not and Ko easy on too You're out of prac At least, unmistakable new thought: | turn my memory of &@ doleful one.” “Didnt you Grandmother asked those days?” this—that we came roses. Victoria, B. C, and on the way. neas of the mate. She had fust returned, with us in a moment. our visitor as “Jimmy me days in Barnesville, Mrs, § that wretch Smilodon?* ( ? ~ Page 584 HER FIRST ORANGE “Two things! Mra, Martha re peated, “but they were enough to hard trip from Portland to Seattle Into & very happy memory instead of that she pot. 2 way = ‘rowes’T" tn a bew!l- dered tone. “How could you have a memory of roses on a ship in Mra. Martha laughed agatn. | “Now, don’t ask too many ques tions,” she said. “I don’t know about those rosea, I only know ‘steerage,’ that my little brother and I lay) in our bunk together almost too sick to feel alive, and that it com forted me to seo those beautiful “The mate told us they were being shipped from California to | they were! planted in pots and supported in frames, and had burst into bloom | “The other thing was the kind- Wo were a long time on the way—the weath er was so rough and every morn ak ke was She addressed then remem: | bered and called him “Dick.” “Make it ‘Jimmy’ hereafter, Mrs. | Scott,” said he. “It's to explain to you why I became ‘Dick’ and re-| mained ‘Dick’ that I asked you to see “Let's sit in a circle,” said Mother: dear, taking her place on the couch my side and motioning Jimmy to push his chair in front of us, “T'll have to go back to those great You Miss Sweet Missed a Treat “THERE 1S SURE SOME CLASS TO “THAT GAL~ GUESS I'D BETTER GoUR SHAVE ANO PUT ON 1 BROUGHT ‘You Words of Praise ing he came to the bunk with some cheery word for ux “Then, one morning when he came, he had something in his | band. “'r've brought you something, Martha,’ he said, and held up his | gift for me to sea, “I looked at it. ‘Wat tn tt? I | asked. like it before, an apple, and when I touthed it, it felt cool, it was heavy to lift, | and I thought t was a most beau tiful color. “You funny Ittle girl? the | mate said, ‘That's an orange? 1 had never seen anything It was round like “Then he sat down by us and told us about oranges—how they grew an4 how to eat them. (You see, I should most likely tried to bite it like an apple) “When we reached Port Town send, I ate it, And I thought tt the most wonderfully delicious have | thing I ever tasted, “Well, at Port Townsend we joop and came on down | as an all day trip and we | didn’t reach the Seattle wharf till nearly dark.” (To Be Con | “You think could forget?” | What I forgot was my dear’s presence. She reminded me ure of my fingers. coming to you next coming to ask you to |by a pres: was scandal kept you away! what We heard happened. Please jdo not repeat the story if it hurts you, Jimmy! So my sympathetic Motherdear shortened the poor boy's hard recital. We heard that Jimmy’s sister, a married woman, had run off with a teller in her father's bank and a part remember, May, the night we stalked |of the bank's reserve. “Helen was false—to her husband THE OLD HOME TOWN Co OLD MAN BENDER. STEPPED OUT TO SEE THE THERMOMETER — FORGETTING THERE WASA SPRING LOCK ON THE DooR— Mother. | qzit | i ‘ i] THAT BooK HAT | WAS TELLING You ABOUT I WON'T BE ABLE TO Come IN AS! HAVE AN APPOINTMENT AT EIGHT- So? WuAT DID SUE DIDN'T SAY WELL WHAT || SHE SAID, NORM, YOURE” SUE SAY “To ANYTHING To ME-SWE | DIDSHE SAV}! ne ops Boy IN You? gill) WAS TALKING To TO HUA? Il scuool, EVEN FRECKLES WHEN TL BOUGHT THAT THING ‘YoU Samp (IT DIDN'T WORK RIGHT ALCL L HA®& TO Do way To NOTIFY ‘ou. SINcES II! iN Dai Ane sot Div!!! AND THAT'S ALO T'VE BEGN DOING evor me Tso V7, BY B. Wing Legg Hin to her fath man of her ries shut ruined" “All that we know, Jimmy! Don't talk about it! only mystery—to We cleared up “Concerns my father’s death and my disappearance?" Motherdear nodded “We ought to learn that, Jimmy “Father sent me away, Mrs. Scott.” “Oh! Ont Onrt to comprehend the situation, but I did not, I listened eagerly to the of Jimmy's recital: "The—last morning—of his |father came to me with a telegram in his hand. It contained the number of a stateroom on the Olympic, sail-| Could you trust a hload? = Then. the. quar down—my father was My was parted. “1 was surprised, for to tell the life, |truth, I had been thinking about May most of our long ride. Would it be best for me to write te hart (To Be Continued quite ing the next morning, The reservar tion was for me. “I was to go to London, consult his brother, and bring back funds, There wasn't a train on our little branch which would get me to New York on time for the boat, but by motoring over the mountain, I could cateh a train at the state capital and reach the steamer 30 minutes before she sailed, “There wasn't a minute to spare. father himself drove me to thi Motherdear seemed | town where I caught the limited, He unnerved when we