The Seattle Star Newspaper, July 13, 1922, Page 13

(Continued From Yesterday) Bnd he knew that this possibitity ‘all but gone Tricked! For he realined that Agnes Jierdon| asked stood by him at a time when eupposed confidence and trust do no more for him than him and cause him to trust to the end that—what? ‘Hfad tt been she who had slipped necessary papers of the contract the les Into the mass of for ea which he had signed with. even looking at the contents more than the first page or two the pile? They had been so many | details, merely there for Bignature; he had signed dozens be- Tt would have been easy, “But Houston forced back the thought. He himself knew what it it to be unjustly accused. Time | Was but of little moment now; his | Qhedries coukt wait until he had " geen Agnes Jierdon, untth he had | talked to her and questioned her the statements made to Robinette. ‘Tate siready was in the bugey. to cover his feelings by a of badinage directed toward , the wolfdog, and waiting Houston to take his place be. him A moment more and were driving away, Ba't! over the reins as usual, striving to put from hiin/ agony of the new accusation. ly, the trapper cocked his head spoke, rather to the horse and than to Houston, "Bet te the one, dig lier ® bad eye. She have a bad “Let's wait, Batiste, There may some mistake about or bat slowly, Pp into , Houston knocked it to see Mise Jierdon,.” he cook who had opened the That person shook her head. agg from Miss Robinette's and packed her things She didn’t exy where she IETF me have it! ‘There was ixiety tn the command. The cook d back into the house, to re “What she say?” Ba'tiste was Weaning from the buggy. Houston took his place beside him, and as the horse was turned back toward the trapper’s cabin, read aloud: “Dearest Barry: “Hate awfully to run away Itke This without seeing you, but it @an't be helped. Have an offer of ® position in St. Louis that I can't Very well refuse. Will write you| queer old songs in a petots, rum-|the hours until midnight, from there. “Love and kisses. “AGNES.” Bevan were. OF THE. E i ht HOW PHIL FROG STOLE He grabbed them in his mouth and made a big dive into Ripple Creek. “Ow, ob, ouch?’ Marty Mink was yelling when Dr. Snuffies and the Twins knocked on his front door. “Doctor? («come on tn.” ‘The three of them walked into Marty's muddy baliway. Marty, you know, lives on the bank of Rip- ple creek, or rather in It. Before Nancy had time to close the door, Phil Frog put his toe in the crack. “Hey! hé erted. “You don’t mind if I come, too, do you?” “What do you want to come for, Philip?” asked Nic “Of course, you're safe as long as Marty has a fi-bone in his throat because he €an't eat anything. “But he hasn't had « meal for hours and hours, and the minute Dr. Fnuffies pulls out the fish-bone Marty will begin to look for some- Besides, Ba’. jtiste, But I'm near it, She, oul! She have a bad| some pretty hard knocks.” - She left a note for you."| OUR BOARDING HOUSE Ra'tiste alapped th home bnoee ped the reins on the “She is like the Judas, ent" he quietly, and Houston cringed with the realization that he had }epoken the truth, Judas! A feml nine Judas, who had come to him when his guard had been lowered, who had pretended that she be- Heved in him, that she even loved | him, that she might wreck his every | Blan and hope tn life, A Judas, a— “Let's don’t talk about it, Ba’ | titer’ Houston's volce was hoarse, weary, “It's a little too much to ive all in one day.” “Trea bien,” answered the oid| French-Canadian, not to speak agate until they had reached his cabin| jand, redfaced, he had turned from | | the stove to place the evening meal jen the table, ‘Then, his mouth full [Of crisply fried bacon, he waved }& hand and spluttered with a sud. den tnapiration: “What you do, now? “Queer question, isn't ft?" The grim humor of it brought a smile, in spite of the lead in Houstoi heart. “What te» there to do? “What? Ba'tiste gulped his food, rose and waved a hand with a [sudden flaxh of emphasis. “Peuff! And there ts ever’thin’. You have a | mil.” “Buch as tt ts.” “But eet ts a mill. And eet can saw timber—enough to keep the! wolf from the door. You have yourself, Your arm, he ta near’ Well, And there is alway" he gestured § profoundiy—"the future, He i like a woman, the future,” he added, with o little amills, “He always look good when he ls in the far away.” The enthunlasm of the ¢ found a faint echo tn Houston’ heart. “I'm not whipped T've had) “Ah, o1 But so have Ba'teese The shadows were falling, and the |old French-Canadian walked to the | window, “Oui, oul, oul! Look.” And | “Ev’ day, Ba’! teese, he \see that. Ev’ day, Ra’ teese remember-how he work for) others, how is L’ M’sieu Doo. taire, how he help and help and help—but how he cannot help his} own. Ev’ day, Ba’teese, he live j the way. quit, and you will not quit, Ané—"| “I will not quit!’ Barry Houston | said the words slowly, tn a voice heightened by feeling and by a new strength, a sudden flooding of a reserve power that he did not know | | he possessed. “That i» my absolute! | promise to you, Ba'tiste. I will not/ th? Mon ami, he come to the bar- | rier, and he look at the trouble, but | {he aay he will not quit. Veritas! Bont He ts my Pierre! He apeak! [like my Pierre would speak! Hoe} } will not quit” “No,” and then Houston repeated range light shining in his his hands clenched, breath | pulling deep tnto his lungs. “J will) not quit.” | “Ah, oul! Het fs’ now the, what-) you-say, the swing-around point. To-| night Ba‘teese go out. Where? Ab. | you chall wait an’ see. Ba'teese go | —Ba'teene come back. ‘Then you shall see. Ah, oul! Then you shall nee | For an hour or so after that he| | boomed about the cabin, bling to the faithful *Golemar, wash- Ing the dishes while Houston wiped them, joking, talking of everything DOCTOR'S PULLERS 4 } / thing to ent. And he Ifkes frogs bet- ter than anything. Phil grinned. | “Yes, that's 0,” he agreed. “But |I'm curtous. I'd like to see how you} j pull out fish-bones.” “Well, come along then,” Nick. “Ow, oh, ouch,” moaned Marty. | Dr. Snuffies took out his pullers |and was just going to pull out, the |bone when Phil gave a quick jump | with his strong hind légs and knock. jed the pullers out of the fairyman's hand, grabbed them tn his mouth and made a big dive into Ripple creek “I'm not going to run any risk of Mr, Mink choking on a frog bone, yway,” grinned Phil. (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Stary} naid WELL, LETS BE GOING, MISS HERZOG » THE REST OF THE FOLKS ARE OUT-}) | Gon SIDE WAMNG WITH THE OTHER BASKETS « T THINK THE Bovs W THis HOUSE ARE “OO. MEAN FoR worDs! We "3 KINDA FUN TO SPRINKLE , SOMETIMES. the troubles of the Gay and Outside the finally to The bull but the plans of the night. shadows grew heavier, turn to pitch darkness. bats began to circle about the cabin./ Ba'tiste walked to the door. “Bon! Good!" he exclaimed. “The sky, he is full of cloud’. The star, he do not shine, Bon! Ba'teese shall go.” Long Houston waited for his re turn, but he did not come, The oid, creaking clock on the rustic but still no crunching of gravel relieved his anxious ears, still no gigantic form of a grizzled, bearded trapper showed in the doorway. One o'clock came and went. Two—three. Houston still waited. Four—and a scratch on the door. It was Golemar, followed & moment later by @ twinkling-eyed Ba'tiste. Good!” he exclaimed. “See, Golemar? What I say to you? He wait up for Ba'teese, Bon! Now alert, mon ami! The pencil and the paper!” He slumped into a chair and dived into a pocket of his red shirt, to bring forth a mass of scribbled sheets, to stare at them, striving studiously to make out the writing. “Ba'teese, he put eet down by a match in the shelter of a lumber pile,” came at iast. “Eet ts all, what-yousay, scramble up. But we shall see—ah, oul—we shall see. Now,” he looked toward Houston, waiting anxiously with paper and “Bon! pencil, “we shail put eet in the list.| Bo. One million tics, seven by eight by eight feet, at one dollar and the forty cents. Put that down.” "I have tt But what—”" “Wait! Five thousan’ bridge tim- ber, ten by ten by sixteen feet, at the three dollar and ninety cents,” “You—" "Ten thousand feet of the four by at—" Houston had risen suddenly. “What have you got grinning, | SAA A ERE AE SRC ANE NE SN AR NNER ERR RE A SRE THE SEATTLE STAR THEY KNEW RIGHT Weil WE WERE @ TO WAVE A SUPPER PICNIC TONIGHT IN “THE DARK, AND THEN THEY VANISH © SCAMPS! [He LAWN LUNCH DESERTERS ——-- there? ‘The trapper grinned and pulled at hin gray-aplotched beard. “Oh, oh! Golemart He wan’ to know. Shall we tell heem, eh? | Ah. out" He shook his big shoul | ders and spread bis heods, “Ee te the copy of the bidr’ | | “The copy? The bid?" | “From the Blackburn mill There ts no one aroun’. Ba'teese, he go |thru window, Ba'teese, he find heem—in a file. And he bring singing | ledge ticked away ther minutes and back the copy.” | “Then—* “M'sleu Houston, he too will bid. But he will make it lower, And this,” he tapped the scribbled scraps of paper, “is cheaper than any one else, Eet ts because of the loca tion. M’steu Houston—he know what they bid. He will make eet cheaper.” “But what with, Ba'tiste? We | haven't @ mill to eaw the stuff, in the first place. This ramshackle thing we're éetting up now couldn't even begin to turn out the ties jalone. The bid calls for ten thou |wand Inia down at Tabernacle, the first of June. We might do that, but how on earth would we evor keep up with the rest? The box ings, the rough lumber, the two by fourteen's finished, the dropped aid. ings and grooved roofing, and iath and ceiling and rough fencings and) all the rest? What on earth will | we do it with?” | “What with?’ ‘arm grandiloquently. future!” “It's taking the longest kind of i* chance—”" “Ah, oul! But the man who ts | drowning, he will, what-you-say, grab at a haystack.” | “True enough. Go ahead I'll | mark our figures down too, as you) | rend.” | | And together they settled to. the! making of @ bid that ran into tho millions, an overture for a contract for which they had neither mill, nor | | timber, nor flume, nor resources to | complete! (Continued Tomorrow) Batiste waved an “With the “OUR FIRST YEAR By a CHAPTER LXI —JACK AND I BOTH IN BAD HUMOR AT ONCE AGAD “pid you have a pleasant walk last evening?” asked my husband when we exchanged an abbreviated on the and surreptitious caress mezzanine before breakfast, Bride 1 took it for granted Jack had seen me go to the garage to hunt my pearis, #0 I answered s! “Yes, did you? And did you sleep well?” fatioe bah toe oe “Passahlyy” BY AHERN rere PAGE 13 ‘| THE OLD HOME TOWN POUEE TERT: Anata wn BY STANLEY MATTER WITH THAT GIRLP SS _By Mabel Cle £ Page 727 THE SOULE PICTURE BOOKS ‘The three heads bent together over the picture of Snoqualmie Falls, Pegsy’s bobbed and goldie, | David's brown and cropped, and/ Aunt “Polly’s" soft and gray, It} was she who answered David's question. “The rock in the middle, bil | there at the top of the falls,” she sald, “was there for ages and ages, probably; the Indians knew tho falls only as @ dangerous | plate in the river around which they must carry their canoes. “But when the white man came he saw the beauty there, and more than that, he saw how all | that foam of tumbling, rushing | water could be drained and belted and gulded.to make electricity. “And when the engineers came to find how this might be done, that great rock, placed there | maybe by some mighty upheavel | of nature, was in the way. So they put dynamite under it and blasted It out “But Uncle John saw it onty as part of the beautiful picture and | ‘iong before the engineers came to | do thetr work, before the splendid road which you use today was| built, we took the long, rough trip just In order to get that picture. “Wo stood high up on the edge | of the gorge and Uncle John look- ed at the rushing water from one ang and another, but he wasn't satisfied. g “I must get ft from below,’ he said,-and he climbed down the side of the ravine. “There was no trail of any sort and it was steep and difficult; oh! so difficult! And Uncle John was not well at the time, but he just felt that while the wonderful beauty of the falls was Just as Na ture had made ft, he must eatch fr in a picture so that It might al- ways be kept. “So down ho went (and the side of the gorge was almost straight up and down), got this picture that you see and—-then he must get back up again, “From tree to shrub, from shrub to tree, he labored up, pull- ing, slipping, straining till he reached the top, too exhausted to stand. * “The people who were with us were frightened," Aunt Polly smiled brightly as she recalled what came next, and she said soft- ly, “he lay utterly still and white on the ground; T looked down at him and said, ‘Let him alone, He fs all right. Then I had to ‘de. clare the truth for him, And, of course, he was all right.” The Princess in the Picture Book Tomorrow. [ ialiiiadlieliclibosmssee ee Y ND My chance to refer.to,my fox scarf | elf, but sometimes my shopping I was wearing for the first time did| trophies made me feel he wasn't not come until we were finding our | earning enough. places in the cars, Then I whis-| Before noon Y realized the fox pered: stole or something had started an- “How do you like my pet fox?” other rift between us, that some oc- “Stunning! Ie it yours, dear? 1T| currence was spoiling our day. hoticed it at breakfast. Thought Certainly 1t was unfortunate my you'd put on Bonny’s.” nerves and Jack's should be frazzled “It's mine I announced glee |at the same time. That's always the fully, and Indeed I was glad to so| way, I've found. Maybe it's action casually break the news of my pur-jand reaction, Sometimes I’ve chase. Not that Jack ever had been | thought if I would make an effort horrid about what I bought for my-|to control my own nerves I wouldn't SAND HERC'S SOMETHING | i DON'T UNOSRSTAND: notice Jack's so much, “Somebody old enough to be his The big things, emergencies, dis-| mother,” 1 answered for him. appointments, never disturbed us,| Jack put the letter into his pocket, but we seemed to be always on the/ made no comment, and never re lookout for some excuse for a petty | ferred to it again, mood. Said I to Me: If Jack had his reasons for moods,| “He never opers them until he ts all that trip? 1 soon discovered am/alcre! And I’m quite aoipless, He excure for my own, ent I are to be good chums and Bonny always ran for the letters | pals. I must accept everything, he when we stopped for the night. ever need explain, Therefore, my “Who's your lady friend, Jack?| dilemma, I've just got to endure— Your steady correspondent?" she |and endure! And—it—is—not—fairt erfed as she flipped a note to nim. | (To Be Continued) “Your mother?” (Copyright, 1922, by Scattle Stas dj