The Seattle Star Newspaper, July 22, 1922, Page 9

“No don't know about that. Maybe you did (tI can't say, It's about other lease, the contract. It help you about that—it you'll help me. Take my baby—"S “And keep your seeret, Agnes? Is ‘that itt’ But suddenty he ceased his plans. Black splotches against the sow, two figures suddenly had come out of the sweeping veil—a girl and a maa. Something akin to panto seized Houston. The man was Lost Wing, faithfully in the background as ‘usual, The girl was Medaine Robin- ete, For once Houston hoped that she would pass him as usual—with avert ed eyes. He did not care to make explanations, to be forced to ie to her, But Fate was against him. A THE SEATTLE STAR OUR BOARDING HOUSE AN’ WARD Your GAZE ON “TH’ WINNINGS OF “THAT HOSS I TOLD Vou ABOUT VESTERDAVs hb FIVE DOLLAR VET DRAGS ME W NINETY- SIX CLANKG ! moment more and the storm closed in again, with one of its fitful gusts, onty to clear at last and to leave them face to face, Modaine's eyen BY AHERN THE OLD HOME TOWN Seng womanly Instinct to the were gleaming strangely. “My | le tn his arms And even tho hnether doesnt Know. ‘She's old |#8* eOuld eee nothing but the round. you know her, Barry. She thinks |" of the diankets, the tender man- Km—what I should have been, "*T ™ which Barry Houston held the Pet's whe f come beck out hue [ inanimate little parcel was “Wil yout” The woman's eyes wees Vee Nor re WELL, You 6O BACK AND TELL HIM HE'S NOT GOING To SCARE ME WITH ANY OF MIS OLD TnreaTs! ih. She touched the bundle ever softly. “I didn’t know.” Then) and With « sudden thought; “But her| her, seeking the thing that, ™other. She must need—" in the} “Only a doctor, I will try to got | Ba'tiete to come out.” “But couldn't I--* WILBUR HERE'S A BILL THAT t WANT You To couecr! You St® MRMILLER, THE MANAGER AND TELL HIM} WANT HIM To GIVE You A CHECK FOR IT WHILE WELL, DID You GET TWE CHECK ? HE PUT ME OUT AND SAID IF | CAME BACK AGAIN HE’D KNOCK MY BLOCK orr! Leave 'T ’ ‘To mz,Boss. could cause onty one idea fn her brain. He wanted to the truth, her ald, to the woods to the Stricken woman he coult not frame the Instead, “II can't tell given & woman my word. t; FLL i i iE eh t ip i i E | at Pa i 5 H E F g iE te aFe ii af? bgyee 8 & | f lf i F i » . 2 ' : J J : ¢ J : : | t 3 i ! i Hi i i a ape : . “Of course. But you are asking -. something almost imposstbi The ] tiny, still | nearest priest fe at Crestline, knees to relieve his} “Crestline?” Houston inetinctivet: Then on again in plod- oe ae turned toward the hills, a bleak, for bidding wall against the sky. to a woman who had done “Lean try. WID you lend me Lost concern. He knew to « oor~| Wing to run an errand? I want to} that there was no priest in| get Ba'tiste—for her.” 7 : She apoke to the Indian in Sioux| sot cry out. Slowly she came toward then and drew away, her eyes on the| Houston, then bent to tighten the tracings of a snowshoe. Houston, fastenings of her snowshoes. pointing with his bead, gave the Im-| “I know the way," came quietly jdian his directions. “I have been over it “A woman ts sick In a cabin, two | winter. Ido not | miles straight west from bere. Get) “Yo Ba'tinte Renaud and take him there. | don.” Turn away from the stream at a tall, dead Wwdgepole and go to tho left.| You will see the cabin. I would) rather that you would not go in and that you know nothing about the/ wornan. Tell Ba'tiste that her name must stay a secret until she herself; fg willing that it be otherwise. Do you understand?” “art.” The Indian went then toward his mistress, waiting her sanction to the mission. Sho looked at Barry Houston. “Have you given him his direc tions?” “Yes.” “Then, Long Wing, do as he bas told you.” to, and what his story would| “Certainty.” he got there was a little) “May 1 talk to him privately? He he could hagard. To Ba’.| understands Engtish?” he would tell the truth, to| She nodded T there must simply be some| “I will tell Lost Wing that any. hat would hold for the|thing you have to say to him shall that would allow him to| be a secret even from me. want to know it.” — ANO THEN TO DO WITH ITFAND L wWHeLe COT! AWO N wat YOU sav!’ avo * in summer and | I will show you.” Medaine! I--I—beg gar ‘The outburst had passed his lips almost before he realiaed it, “Mins Kobinette, you don't know cay what you're saying. It’s all a man x could do to make that climb. I~" | J So ar OF Book: ; Page 735 “lL know the way,” she answered, | without indicating that she had heard hig remonstrance. “I am giad to go —for the sake of- Bhe nodded | slightly toward the tenderly wrapped bundle on the pack. “I would not} feel right otherwise.” “But ‘Then she faced him. “1 am not afrald,” came with a quiet assurance that spoke more than | words. It told Barry Houston that} this litle woman of the bills was | willing to help him, altho she loathed COOKING Mrs, Bigelow said. Well, the butter came tn ships, | or from wherever they could get jit, and it was awfully bard to | take things from one place to an- | other in ‘54, and the eight miles out to her father’s farm was a long way. So it happened that on the day when Elizabeth had her first eom- BRIDE'S You know Perey and David and pioneer meetings! Well, there was a great big one in Olympia on" the 12th of July. And as Dav said, “Before we start in meeting any new ones, Peg, let's neo if ve got all we can from the folks we already know.” That's how they came upon this one about Mra, Bigelow, the first | “Will you?” he asked anziously Phil Frog had a busy time of it. He was the best-natured person you'd Mer meet and yet he had more “Memies than a fish has scales. ) Oscar Owl made Phil jump « yard | ery time he went “Whoooo!” Marty Mink gave Phil a cold chill every time his shadow fell on the } MW waters of Lily Pond. And Cob Coon and Phil couldn't “Wve in the same house. jut the one hi] dreaded most was Dave Duck. | Oscar and Marty and Cob could! nly make Phil's life miserable on| Gry land (@itho Marty was a pretty feed swimmer), but Daye Duck) €ould chase him on land and water Snd even under the water. Genly take their place under the} water. One snap and that would be the end of Mr. Frog. One day Phil had an idea. He hopped in among the slime and weeds where Poky Pickerel Iived and whispered something into Poke's ear. “Will you?” he asked anxiously. “Sure!” said Poke oblingingly. By and by Davy came along, somersaulting and snapping up things and gobbling them down| again. He didn’t see Poky right) under him. Suddenly something else snapped Tt was Poke Pickerel's jaws this time and they snapped on Davy Duck's foot. Davy honked and quacked and l familiar with It. ‘The Sioux started on, soon to be engulfed in the swirling veil of the | | for the man she aided that she might | storm. Barry turned again to the girl, “Just one more request: I carry the child up there—this Wi you help strap her to my back?” Silently she assisted him in grim task of mercy. Then: “Do you know the Pass?" “I can find my way.” “Do you know it?” He shook his head. one glove against the other. “It ig impossible then. You—* way. Thank can't “T'll make tt some you—tor helping me.” He started on. But she called him back. bs dangerous—too dangerous,” and there was a note of pity in her voice. bad enough on foot when there's no snow—if you're not _" “Tell me the way. Perhaps 1 could find ft. It's not for myself, 1 made a promise to the child's moth er. I'm afraid she's dying.” A new light came tnto the girl's eyes, a ight of compassion, of ut- mont pity—the pity that one can feel for some one who has transgressed, some one who faces the penalty, who feels the lash of the whip, yet docs cocmeeeennnetinmenenn OUR FIRST YEAR way.| spite of the false beliefs | knew existed in the mind of Medaine the | Robinette, She tapped | back there In the little, lonely cabin, {he had alded where he might have him; that she wag willing to undergo hardships, to quell her own disitke fve him aswistance in a time of} death. And he thrilled with it, tn that he It gave him a pride in her—even tho he knew this pride to| be guined at the loss of his own pron tige. And more than al}, it made him giad that he had played the man where lay @ sorrow-crazed woman, grieving for a child who was gor that he too had been big enough and } strong enough to forget the past in the exigencies of the gioment; that hindered; that he had soothed where a | lever nature might have stormed, He | bowed his head in acknowledgment of her announcement. Then, side by side, affixing the stout cord that was to form a bond of safety between two alien souls, they started forth, a man who had been accused, but who was strong enough to rise above it, and & woman whose womanheart had dictated that disiike, distrust, even physical fear be subjugated to the greater, nobler purpose of human charity. (Continued Monday) teacher inthe Territory of Wash ington, and Mrs. Bigelow told it to them herself. It's a sort of joke on her, too, and grandmother thought she was pretty good to tell it. You know, she was a very| young girl when she taught that first school, for she was just a slip of a girl when she married, and the wedding was in 1854. Elizabeth, that was her name, lived on a farm about 10 miles out of Olympia, and her father had plenty of chickens and cows which gave lots of rich milk and they made their own butter and I think from all I can hear that they had very, very good “eat ings” at their house. Then Elizabeth quit teaching and married and moved Into her new little two-roomed house in Olympia. Olympia, mind you, had decided to he a sure enough city, and no- body was keeping a cow, I guess; anyway, all the milk had to be! liked {t and wouldn't let his bride brought “from the other side,” | be teased, ek kee LS @ poor business woman to refuse to) I can wipe out all our troubles” take it!’ “Tf it only were as simple as th “I can't object, Persinst You must | 7°ck answered, And then, “Peggin | Peggins!" do what you think best, pat haead I perceived for the first time Jack to the compact we made when we pany to dinner there was much excitement. “Now, what shall I cook?” she thought, “what shall I cook?” Sho got it all planned nicely till she came to dessert, then she wrinkled up her forehead, for she | didn't know how to make a single one. “IT know,” she said, “I've seen mother make puddings lots of times. I'll make a pudding.” So she broke her eggs and beat | them all fluffy with a fork (had no |eg@beater, of course,) then she | found milk and sugar and flour jand she had no butter! And this | pudding was supposed to be sort of like @ cake, Elizabeth was worrted, then she | smiled and said, “Oh, I'll just put twice as much sugar and we won't miss the butter." And such @ pudding! It turned out to be like a very chewy candy, but Mr. Bigelow ate it and was struggling with more than one Phil bid under his liy-pad house! made a terrible racket. At last he 8nd watched Davy's yellow feet push-| got away, but he left a bit of his yel about on top of the water. low foot in Poe's sharp teeth, Push, push, paddle, paddle! went| He had to go to Dr. Snuffies’ house Davy's fect overhead until Phil! right away and get it patched up. He i4 stand the sight of them no had an awful bill—not the one he!| r. One could never tell when | ate with efther. i feet were going to kick up into (To Be Continued) alr, and Davy’s yellow bill sud-| (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) By a Bride LXIX—JACK’S JOB IS GONE BUT HE WON’T TAKE THE $3,000 “No, I don't agree,” I spoke poal-)if I didn’t guess their value—T'd be tively. “It isn’t @ question of right| money, if he believes he owes me and wrong. It’s what Mr. Barnick | $3,000 for keeping those pearls safe married, But, mind, I don't say your opinion is correct.” “Jack, doar! Think! I can pay off all your debts!" “Oh, Pegginsft Jack groaned. without making it worse?” “Am I not trying my best to make thinks, If he wants to give me that|and getting them back to him-—even “Aren't we having trouble enough | the month! lr don’t bla mental distress. PY aga the matter, Jack?” oe 6mtuted «his tra, sihettes gedy quite “No job! Not after the middle of It isn't unexpected, Peg. me them, Selling isn't my game. The office force had to be course, they picked the two who had jbeen making the poorest showing. 'm one.” !| I put @ finger on my husband's Ups, and silenced him. “Let's take it like a great adven- jture, dearest! Why, my love, even if we starve, we'll have each other— starve together, And Jack, don't ever say again you've failed. It's only our share of the common hard- | ship,” “You're a good sport, Peggins! At | ® test, always!” es | “In adversity, T hope so. Why not {t better?” I inquired, “With $9,000! cut down, Two of us had to go, Of)also in prosperity? For Jack, dear, that $3,000 looks to me like the be ginning of real prosperity for us, It will give you time to find the work fits you. For that reason, I'm ig to take it.” ‘You mean that, Peggins?”* I nodded, “Choose your own way, girl. But if we had no pre-nuptial agreement not to interfere with each other, I'd set my foot down, like a husband of * — the old achool, I'd say that you can’t have that money. I wouldn't let you touch it!’ (To Be Continued (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Stax)