The Seattle Star Newspaper, July 3, 1922, Page 5

{Continued From Saturday) The undandaged hand had waved the flowers for emphasis and absent: gripped the stems, The wild roses tered to the ground. “Gosh!” fame dolefully, “I'm all full of thorns. Guess I'l! have to pick ‘em ‘out with my teeth.” ‘on?’ ‘Then she picked up the Toees and laid them gingerly Aide. “You can’t use your other hand, can your’ “Ne. Arm's broken.” “Then—" she looked back toward Lost Wing, bunched on a stump, and Barry's heart sank. She debated a at last to shake her head momen “No—he'd want to dig them out with | a knife, If you dort mind.” She Moved toward Houston and Barry thrust forth. his han “It you don’t min he countered and she sat beside him. A moment later: “I must look like a fortune tell “See anything in my palm besides thorns?” “Yea. A little dirt. Ra'tiste evi dently isn't a very good nuree.” “I did the best I could with one | hand. But I was pretty grimy. I I didn't know.” and Barry grinned @heerfully, “I was going to be this lucky.” She pretendod not to hear the sally nd in some way Barry was glad much rather would have her si ¢ than making some flippant re: Mark, much rather would he prefer to lean comfortably back on the old Dench and watch the quiet, almost Childish determination of her features &s she sought for a grip on the tiny berances of the thorns, the soft whntss of the few strands of hair Which strayed from beneath the boy- eh cap; the healthy glow of her com. Plexion, the smaliness of the clear. ned hands, the daintiness of the little figure. Much rather would Be be silent with the picture than etriving that in their very naiveness were an @ccusation. Quite suddenly Barry flex cheap and mean and dishonest felt that he would like to talk Bbout himeelf,about home and his * his hopes the mill which now waa a sham- + UNprofitable thing; about the and—a great many things. It an effort, when she queried in concerning his memory, still remained Mr. Nobody he shifted the conversation himself to her, you live out here?" ? ? i : i fH? HL ii + "Yes. Didn't Ba'tiste tell you? My house is just over the hill-you can Just “Wee one edge of the roof thru that bent aspen.” Barry stared. “I'd noticed that. Thought it w: house. but couldn't 1 thought I understood Ra'tiste to eny came out here tn the sum- eG that when { was going to IT stay here all the year il me | v With a hundred kinds things going? With ping in the streams in time, and a good gun hollow of your arm in the win- Besides, there's old Lost Wing his squaw, you know. I get a of enjoyment out of Them when ‘re snowed in—in the winter. Hi told me fully fifty versions of how i s3es2 — rt fi Fe “He knows all about it?” “Td hardly say that." Medaine reached under her cap for a hairpin, looked quickly at Barry as tho to #sk him whether he could stand pain. then pressed a recalcitrant thorn in- to a position where tt could be ex- tracted. “I think the best descrip- tion of Lost Wing is that he's an ad mirable fiction writer, Ba'tiste says he has more fleas.” “Then it isn't history?” “Of course not. Just imagination. But it's well done, with plenty of gestures. He stands in front of the fire and acts it all out while his équaw «its on the floor and grunts and nods and wails at the right tim and it's really entertaining. They're about a million years old, both of them. My father got them when he first carne down here fran Montreal He wanted Lost Wing as a sort of bodyguard. It was a good deal wild erin this region then than it ts now, and father owned a good deal of land.” “So Ba'tiste tells me. He says that practically all of the forests around here are yours.” “They will be, next year,” came simply, “when I'm—* She stopped and laughed “Ba'tiste told me. Twenty-one.” “He never could keep anything to) forth once more, to the hunt of a! ing into the station to loaf, himself.” “What's ewrong about that? twenty-seven myself.” “Honestly? You don’t look it.” “Don't 1? 1 ought to. I’ve got a Fa MOON-MAN _ASTOUNDS REACHES HOME O I'm Mr. Peerabout, the Man-in-the- Moon, searched everywhere for Comet-Legs, his enemy, who had Pushed him off the Moon. He finally reached Bluster-Gust Land and he and Buskins, a fairy, looked into every nook and corner But no Comet-Lega was there, It was most puzzling, for there was the little star Comret-Legs always rede tied tight to the Weatherman’s chimn. Vell,” sald Mr, Peerabout finafly, give it up. I'll take the star and ride it back to the Moon and you can take your little elevator back to the apple-tree in the orchard. "Goodby, Buskins, and thank you for helping me. ‘They say it's an 11 wind that does no one good. il say it's a bad fall that does; no one good, for if I hadn't fallen I'd | GIVE QUICK RELIEF FOR THROAT TICKLE to questions | lies than a dog has| ADV SNTURES OF THE TW! beard and everything, See?’ He pulled his hand away for a moment to rub the twodays’ growth on his face. “I tried to shave this morning Couldn't make it, Ba'tiste swht he'd play barber for me this afternoon Next time yeu come over I'll be all slicked up.” Again she laughed, and once more pursued the remaining thorns, “How do you know there'll be @ next time?" “If there tsn't, myself, so you'll have to pull jout.” ‘Then seriously. “You } come over often, don't you? “Of course" then, the last thorn removed, she rose——"to ee Ba'tiste I look on him as a sort of guar Tn drive natla in em do aflicted with amnesia, Are you sure you don't remember anything?" “No—not now, But," and Barry hedged painfully, “I think I will, It acts to me like a momentary thing. Every once in a while I get a flash as tho it were all coming back; it | was just the fall, I'm sure of that. My head's all right.” “You mean your brain?” Yes, I don't act crasy, or any thing like that, do I “Well,” and she smiled quizzically, “of course, I don't know you, so I [have nothing to go by, But [ must j admit that you say terribly foolish | things.” Leaving him to think over that, [she turned, laughed a good-by, and | bow-legged old Loat retraced the path | to the top of the hill, there to hesi- tate a moment, wave her hand quick- ly, and then, as tho hurrying away from her action, disappeared. Barry Houston sat a long time, visualizing her there on the brow of the hill, her head with {ts long-visored cap tilted, her hand upraised, her trim. ness and her beauty silhouetted | against the opalesque sky, dreaming, | and with a bit of heartache in it jzer this sort of thing had been his | | hope in younger, fairer days sort of a being had been his make believe companion of a Castle in Spain. This sort of a joking, whim- sical girl had been the one who had come to him in the smoke wreaths and tantalized him and promised bim— But now, his life was gray. His heart was not his own. His hie was at best only a grim, drab thing of ugly memories and angered deter minations. If a home come to him, it must be in company with some one to whom he owed the gratitude of friendship in time of need; not love, not affection, but the paying of @ debt of deepest honor. Which Barry would do, and faithtuily and honestly and truthfully. As for the other— He leaned against the bark slabs of the cabin. “He closed his eyes. He CHAPTER VI Tt wea thus that Ba’tiste found him, still dreaming. The big voice of the Canadian boomed, and he reach. | ed forward to nudge Barry on his in- jured shoulder. “And who has been bringing you flowers?” he asked. ledaine. That ts—Miss Robin- ete.” Medaine? Ob, oh! You hear, Golemar!" he turned to the fawning wolf-dog. “He calls her Medaine! Oh, oh! And he say he will marry, not for love. Peuff! We shail see. by gar, we shall see! Eh, Golemar?” Then to Barry, “You have sit out here too long.” “I? Nothing of the kind. Where's the axe? I'll do some fancy one. handed woodchoppin | whistling with the joy of work. Nor did he pause to diagnose his light heartedness. He only knew that he was in the hilis; that the streets and | Offices and people of the cities, and | the memories that they carried, had béen lett behind for him; that he was .| in a new world to make a fight and that he was strangely, inordinately happy. Time after time the axe |glinted, to descend upon the chop ping block, until at last the pile of | stove-wood had reached its proper | dimensions, and old Ba'tiste came |from the doorway to carry it in | Then, half an hour later, they sat down to their meal of sizzling bacon and steaming coffee,—a great, beard ed giant and the younger man whom he, in a moment of impulsiveness. | had all but adopted. Ba'tiste was | atill joking about the visit of Me |daine, Houston parrying his thrusts |The meal finished, Ba’'tixte went bear trap and its deadfall, dragged | away by @ mountain lion during the last snow. Barry sought again the bench outside the waiting and hoping,—in vain. At last COMET-LEGS AS HE| N SHOOTING STAR never have met you.” Buskins shook Mr. hand and departed. Then Mr. Peerabout straddled the star that belonged to Comet-Legs and rode back to the Moon And what do you think, my dears? | There was Comet-Legs on the top of | the very mountain from which he | had pushed Mr. Peerabout! When he saw the Moon-Man he was #0 surprised he nearly fell over, “Jumping jumping jacks!" he cried, |""Where did you come from, Mr. Peerabout's my star? “I've looked for it everywhere. Those meddiesome Pwins ran off with ft. Bring it here, please, I have some place I wish to go, and I can’t leave the Moon without it.” “Leave the Moon!” cried Mr. Peer. about. hy, I thought you wished to be Moon-Man and stay here for. ever. “No, sir! Not for a million dol lars,” cried Comet-Legs. “I can't get away fast enough.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) A gasheated towel rack in a novel addition to the modern luxur- jous bathroom. dian, He knew my father, But let's) talk about yourself, You seem re: | }markably clear in your mind to be | ‘This | Ould ever | And while Ba'tiste watched, grin- ning, Barry went about his task, swinging the axe awkwardly, but| Moon-Man, and where di you find | A FLAGH AT HIS GARDEN NOW « WHEN HE SEES THIS CROP OF CANNED GooDs aN! STORE VEGETAGLES We'LL THROW A DOUBLE Fit+ WERE MACK, OPENER “Too «= Tox | | | | 1 HATE To Gwe THE OLD STALL ABOUT MY MIGHT PUT Whip, ip)} came evening, and he undressed la: | beriously for a long reat. Something |awaited him in Tabernacle,—either | the opening of a book of schemes, or at least the explanation of a mystery and that meant a walk of quite two miles, the exercise of muscies which stili ached, the straining of tendons drawn by injury and pain when the time came, he was | Bon—good!” came from Bu'tiste, as they turned into the little village of Tabernacle the next day, skirted the two clapb 4 stores forming the “main business district and edged toward the converted box car that passed as a station. Bon—the agent he \ ing. | Barry lc ead, to see a man rossing an expanse of flat cou Ba'tiste nudged him. | as tho go-| Ba’tiste will come behind—and keep watch,” | Zarry obeyed. A moment more nd he wae within the converted box | ing house. You will walk slowly abin, to sit there | car, to find it deserted and silent, ex: | burn.” cept for the constant clackie of the; | telegraph key, rattling off the busi | ness of a mountain railroad system, | |like some garrulous old woman, to} any one who would listen, There was » office, only a railing and which Barry crossed eas) slight erunching of gravel iounded without. It was Ba'tiste, | now lounging in the doorway, ready at a moment to give the alarm. Houston turned hastily toward the | file hook and began to turn the pages of the original copy which hung there, A moment of searching and he} | leaned suddenly forward, Messages | were few from Tabernacle; it had) been an easy matter for him to come) upon the originals of the telgrams | he sought, in spite of the fact that they had been sent more than two| weeks before. Already he was read. | ing the first of the night letters | | garry Houston | Empire Lake Mill and Lumber Co. 212 srand Building, Boston, | on | IBSURLESQUING + Buster's GA DOINGS OF THE DUFFS | GEE, I'D LIKE To GET OFF To GoTo THE BALL GAME THIS AFTERNOON ~- FUNERAL ~ ELL GET WISE - THINK OF SOMETHING ORIGINAL | 'T OVER - LET'S SEE | he had received, and the one on the T Toup7W! we RUM HE WOULDNIT] GET ANNTHING ouT OF “THiS PATCH BUT A LAME BACK © HE OWES ME A NEW WICKER WAT NOW=s 1 GET Him TH! ONLY “THING HAT'D BE UP BY “Th FIRST OF JULY WOULD BE TH’ SEED ENVELOPES! \S THAT “TH WAY “THEY PLANT A CUCUMBER 60 fT'LL GROW INTO =~. 1’ GOIN’ IN AND TRY To PUT ONE OVER ON THE BOSS - HOW DO You BOSS THAT THINK I'LL COME OUT? GRANDMOTHERS F 1 CAN The Boss Outguessed Him THE OLD HOME TOWN HOLD ER © NEWT SHES AREARIN } SARL + NEWT THE HORSE EAKER- CAME OUT SECOND BEST IN AN ARGUMENT WITH A FRISKY YOUNG COLT THIS MORNING A BY ALLMAN | SAY, BOSS | JUST RECEIVED A PHONE MESSAGE THAT: MY UNCLE WAS HIT BY AN AUTOMOBILE AND WAS ‘TAKEN TO THE HOSPITAL — CAN 1 GRT OFF To GO AND SEE ? clad WHY OF COURSE} You CAN GO- THAT’S TOO BAD FoR You IN TWO WAYS -) HAYE A COUPLE OF PASSES HERE FoR THE BALL GAME 1 WAS GOING To GIVE TO You~ 2 , oy : s¥ ee ee Present one broken today thru tallization F. B, THAY “That's one of ‘em.” Houston grunted the words, rather than spoke them. “That wags meant for me all} right—humph"" } The second one was before him/ now, longer and far more interesting | to the man who bent over the t graph file, while Ba'tiste kept watch | at the door, Hastily he pulled a| crumpled message from his pocket | and compared them,—and grunted| again | “The same thing. Identically the} same thing, except for the addresses! | Ba'tiste,” he called softly, “what kind of an operator Is this fellow?" | io good. <A boy Just out of school. Hasn't been here long. | “That explains tt." talking to himself again r & * ‘a OF By “When people live in grandmother's places,” volce went on, “they have to get “He got the two messages and Suddenly || things in case no new supplies he bent forward and examined a no-|f can be got. tation in @ strange hand: “Missent Houston “But it's pretty hard to tell, Resent Black |] the first time you go off some It explained much to Barry, that | reribble of four words. It told him verything you will need why he had received a telegram|p °V°ry¥ne you which meant nothing to him, yet| caused suspicion enough for a two-| thousand-mile trip. It explained that the operator, in sending two m winter in the sages, had, thru absent-mindedness, || the fall, Capt. Randolph had not} put them both on the wire to the|J counted quite enough. same person ,when they were ad | dressed separately, that Me later had seen his mistake and corrected tt, Barry smiled grimly | “Thanks very much, Operator,” he | time wore on, the bacon lined hiss teas "Day after day they lived J. C, Blackburn, along, alone and anxious. Then Deal Building, Chicago, M1. one day a knock at the door Our friend reports Boston deal put over O. K, Bverything safe. Sug- gent start preparations for operations in time compete Boston for the big thing. Have Boston where we want him and will keep him there all bundled in furs other woman Maes. Please order six-foot saw as before. | THAYER, (Continued Tuesday) 4 By a CHAPTER LII—RECO We knew we were acting absurd ly, but neither of us would give in | We had reached our second Sunday since the situation developed, and I had resolved to capitulate before din. ner. After breakfast Jack went over to see his mother, so he said. OUR FIRST YEAR | |Th an hour he came back, smiling, | cause he had held out so long. The more we talked about it, the sillier the subject looked. And we were both too happy for words to describe because we were i; complete harmony once more. Not meaning to be contrary, but just because the idea had been lurking in my subconscious mind, 1 couldn't Bride ———~ CILIATION RU NED minus bia mustache, keep from saying And then I felt terribly repentant “Jack, I was wrong to fuss so for my part, I eried in my husband's|about your mustache. You ought arms, and told him I was ashamed |not to have shaved it! Doubtless of my method of coercion, and Jack owned up that he was disgusted be- | Mrs. Herred approves {#"" “What? Oh-—I don't know!" Wy a Page 718 * Pooky: . bel Cleland _» far-off gentle ready for unexpected things, and they have to have a@ lot of extra where like that, just how much of “So it happened that this first) out about it, he said the time had Idaho mountains, \ when the snow began so early in! the terrible miles back to a supply And] take them thru the rest of the neither had the other folks who were up there after gold, and as | and sugar and everything grew less| murmured. “It isn't every mistake Tat teria ‘eueladtia’ fieowe” |] and tess, and still the snow eon: Then slowly, studiously, he com.| tinued, and still nobody could go) pared the mesxages again, the one|f out after more supplies startled the young wife, and when she opened it there stood her neighbor, the husband of the only | LAST CRUMB and looking half frozen “Mrs. Randolph,’ he said, ‘I hate to ask you, I know you must be short, too, but our flour ts all AY YOUNS FRIEND, WHAT KIND gone—every bit—have you got OP A HORN De You Aw any to spare?’ THAT YOU'RE PRACTICING “And Mrs, Randolph smiled ON At THE THAT'S A bravely at him and said, ‘I've just Time ¢ weighed what we have left. It's 2 CORNET, four pounds, but you can have | half of it. Surely you can,’ “And when the captain found | come to take a risk, so he braved station, and got food enough to snow time.” “Grandmother,", David — said, when that much of the story was done, “didn't you and Peggy think ask about any Seattle things? After she came here, I mean, 1 Sust wondering about a Fourth of July story." Then Peggy looked at grand- mother and grandmother looked at Pemgy and they both twinkled their eyes, for up their sleeves they had a “Fourth” story, and a funny story besides.” | (To Be Contir | to her was | “Well, I do! She told me she Jana I wanted to get rid of the bur- | calm down and forget. | thou it made you look years/den. I wanted “to talk over’ a lot| So it was with my jealousy of Mra | older! lof our troubles. Jack wanted to|Herrod. I ought to have resented | “Oh—she told you! I see! But is|park them all in the past—and for-|her visits, her invitations, the way it Important to us—what Mrs, Her. get them. So, of course, I'd have to | she of making me do thingy rod thin |keep still. about my own house, | ‘Not me! I announced in aj Mrs. Herrod has been to see me| T don't see how she managed ft tone which distinctly implied that | quite often, I wanted to tell Jack, |She never spoks of the dust on my | what Mrs. Herrod thought was prob-!to ask him why she came. table, nor the finger prints on mj jably very important to Jack, | I had grown to like her, and to | windows, But, somehow, as soon a Oh. darling! Don't! Please don't }iean upon her judgment in a way,|Mrs. Herrod arrived T always sav spoil our nice day!" pleaded Jack, | fometimes I think we humans are jevery little bit of carelessness in tm; “All right! I won't!” I agreed.|@ lot shallower than we appear. We | housekeeping. Birt I had a good deal on my mind— | talk a good deal about our emotions, (To Be Continued) things I'd been collecting for days,' above love avd beta “yt we soon!’ (Copyright, 1923) by Beattie Stary