The Seattle Star Newspaper, December 23, 1922, Page 9

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1922. THE SEATTLE STAR OTTR ROARDING HOUSE BY AHERN ; THE OLI) HOME TOWN SKY LINE YA, WD LAST BUT Cpe, oC iepoesnir a a ee. cn ee “A NOT LEAST I HAVE f ou coun ©] peeey out — RS Va (s wee OF eer, | \ PRESENT For KINGLE, You SOuLY || DIZZY SANTA : 7 ee / Ween Want Bee SPRUCE MATOR MooPLEe |< (CLD CoDeER Te 1s || HAUS Fe Mir 2 ps) COMES IN. DONT Edison Marshall: ALLA Maco ¢ SOMETHING You See ase cerns \\ Coens, Ne INA CORNER HAVE NEEDED For | (Sueur NETO EITEND }\ PRESENT // __ AND FORGET IT, “——— 020-Little Brown & Campy TH! LAST TWENTY Ap iva soe Beg = Youll. 8& LIKE THE TELEGRAM BEN WOLF") DARDY, expert woodeman and RH bs aan ee “b"hAS YOU CARRIED: ROUND, im France and loses his identity. He drift FOR YOUR LAVIGH ABLE geught robbing @ bank in Seattle, He le BREAD on WIS IN YOUR VEST DISTRIBUTION OF Py hes Spee aE ereerant to'parote hin in his euatody Cote ee eh Peart ts WULETIDE GIFTS! PAIR OF . walk to Snowy ¢ B. Cy near which place the former's br ove ' WIRAM MELVILLE, has located a rich gold claim. Hiram died before he RALLS » had time to record the claim and warned his brother to look out for , JRFFRRY NEULSON and dis gang, wh RAY BRENT, who is in love with BEATRICE NELSON, who repy his advances, and CHAN HEMINWAY, When almost at the scene of the claim. Melvil learns that Neilson and his gang have learned Hiram’s secret ar are already on thelr way to Jump th m, #© he pe! to go Inte town to get the dead brothers possessions, while he pre ceeds on to the claim. While calling on STEVE MOREIS, who bas the dead man's p. sions, Ben hea oman ecream and goes out in the yard to find that Hiram M # pet ~black, hound-like creature, ts loose, and mena & beau BY STANLEY, j NO-NO ~ 1 SAY 1 THINK SARAH SENT FORA canoelat, Is shell-shocked to criminal life and to Walla Walla pen SANTA HAS BEEN 80 GOOD" UG ALL, THIS, YEAR! NOW GO ON WITH THE sTonY Bvidently the creature was stealing under a wondering scrutiny of both d her tn stealthy advance more Morris and the girl “Good Lord, Tike @ stalking cat than a crenried | Darby!" the fe © exclaimed. “How hound. Nor was this creature «/ did you do it— hound, in spite of the stmilartty of | outline. Such fearful, lurid surface. | . lights as all of thom saw in its Merce tenet nar few ae bs te eyes are not characteristic of the soft, | foit that 1 could—I've always been brown orbs of the dog, ancient friend | anise to handle antmala He's tame, to man, but are ever the mark of the | anyway.” wild beast of the forest. The fangs) were bared, gleaming in foam, the hair stood erect on the powerful shoulders; and tnstantly Ben recog- nized ite breed. It w magnificent specimen of that hu: unt runner of the forests, the thern wolf. Evidently from the ck shades of his fur he was partly of the Siberian breed of wolves that beforetime had | Sogn p< igtndi dgatag Amert-/y4e didn’t touch mo, But you came jdust in time The girl's voles A chain was attached to the ani-| wavered; and Hen stepped to her mefe collar, and this In turn to &/ side “I'm all right now——" stake that had been freshly pulled) “put you'd better ait down,” Ben from the ground. This beast Was! advised quietly. “It was enough to Fenris—the woods creature that old | scare any one to death | Hiram Melville had raised trom cub-|" “any one—but you--—” the gtrt! replied, her voice still unsteady. But ‘There could be no doubt as to the / «he paused when she saw the warm reality of the girl's peril. The ant-|color spread over Ben's rugged, Now that the suspense was over “Tume, is he? You ought to have had to care for him the last few weeks, and you'd think tame. Not once have I dared to go in reach of hin rope, And there he ts, crouched jat your feet! 1 was always dread ing he'd get away Morris Yaused, evidently remembering the girl “Beatrice, are you hurt?” The girl moved toward them. “No. LIFE MISERABLE FOR THE OLD STATION AGENT UNTIL, SHE RECEIVES THE ‘ FREIGHT SHIPMENT SHES EXPECTING - DOINGS OF THE DUFFS 1 GOT THIS SMOKING CABINET FOR ‘Tom's CHRISTMAS PRESENT-1 KNOW HE'S WANTED ONB - 1 THINK IT WILL LOOK NICE IN THE SUNROOM WHEN WE GET mal was Insane with the hunting madness, and he was plainly stalking her, just ax his flerce mother might have stalked a fawn, across the young grass Already he was almost near enough to leap, and the gir! young, strong body could be no mse against the 150 pounds of wire | and lightning muscle that con- ted the wolf, The bared fangs flash but ones for such game as nd yet, after the first, startled | HIN of the situation. GEPEAEIRTES REPEAEE Ee Le ifiette| i 73 i : ru i hie He giie i , 3 Hy EEEETEG 59, 282 va e fiefs : is pig FEL aude ull i # i el i! Page THE HOUSE OF | brown face. And his embarrassment | was real, Naturally shy and unas- suming, such effusive praise as this ways disturbed him—just as it would have embarrassed any really masculine man allve. Woren, more extravagant in speech and loving flattery with a higher ardor, would have found it hard to belleve how really distressed he was; but Morris, an outdoor man to the core, under- stood completety. Besides, Ben knew 14 OUR NEW Home . Ben Darby felt himself com-|that the praise was not deserved, | Excessive bravery had played no part | availing. He had tnstinctively under- stood such creatures as these. To- “|day he felt that he knew the wild, | fierce heart beating in the lean breast as a man might know his brother's heart. The bond between them was) hidden from his sight, something | lback of him, beyond him, enfolded) within @ secret self that was mys- terious as a dream, and ft reached into the countless years; yet it was real, an anctent relationship that was no less intimate because It could not be named. Jn turn, the wolf had seemed to know that this tall form was a born habitant of the forests, even as himeelf, one that would kill him as unmercifully as he himself) would kill @ fall, and whose dark eyes, swept with fire, and whore cool, ,| strong words must never be dis- obeyed. “You never seen this wolf before?” Morris asked him, calling him from his revery. “Never.” “Then you must be old Hiram's brother himself, to control him like! you did. Lord, look at him. Crouch- ing at your feet.” Suddenly Ben reached and took the wolf's head between his hands. Slow- ly he lifted the savage face till th 867 SIX CHIMNEYS (Chapter 2) He tried once more to reason with them, he explained about mother’s tilness, but the little girls amiled knowingly, and held on to thetr faith in the jolly Christmas Fairy Grandfather, who had never failed them in all the short years of their lives. ‘These four little girls we know now as Mrs. Hunsacker of Ever. ett, Mrs. Granger of Sumner and Mrs. George Talcott of Olympia. Little Ella is not living. It was Mra, Talcott who told the kiddies the story; Mrs. Tal- cott is the “Addie” of the story, anf she fs the only one of the daugh- | ters whe grew up in the “house of six | In December of the year 1863 snow! fall in @ thick white blanket which | covered the prairies and the ever-| green forests of the Puget Sound | laced one more diffi chimneys,” now living near the old) 7 home. al & strang Prowled about and howled chillingly | and thresteningiy But neither mnow-blanket nor how!- | ing wind nor father's warning, could | i the hopes and the mysteriow Ss nildish hearte—when | Christmas te be hung. “My stockings are m n than la tote bet and wish they | horrid | Presentiy, except for the auist| eounda the mother’s sick rooms | the soft breathing of the ¢hil- fron, the house wae still. | ‘Dangling from the mantel hung the four imp tittle brown stocks varying length. 7! stockings had been “pi “earded” ‘by the fingers of 4 been spun knitted by t All this passed father’s mind as b Hin little girls! new world! end worked and Ife beautiful and right for their ru the anxtous w them there, must do something ing to make them happy Christ into the storeroo carefully hidden awe and placed part of found in each stock to his wife. 6 6 no matter ff twa or way out In the country, on each ititie face when father came In. Mot of dinconte: memorien these little «i say they have never hi Locks ‘eau mor @ big mi ‘That Christmas baby wae Mere. Charies Lewny of Laureiburet. ; RERRAR tell him why. No/!m the scene of a moment before. ! have been hard-| He had been brave just as far as) eyes met. The wolf growled, then, | | whimpering, tried to avert its gaze. man's hand. “There's nothing to be afraid of, | now,” be told the girl. } “He's right, Beatrice,” Morris) agreed. “He's tamed him. Even I loan see that much. And I never saw lanything like it, since the day I was born.” It was true: as far as Ben was jconcerned, the terrible Fenrie— | named by « Swedish trapper, ac- |quaintance of Hiram Melville's, for the dreadful wolf of Scandinavian le- |gend—was tamed. He had found « new master; Ben had won @ servant and friend whose loyalty would never | waver as long as blood flowed in his | veins and breath surged In his lungs. | “Lay still, now, Fenris,” he ordered. ‘Don't get up till I tell you.” | It seems to be true that as a rule) | the lower animals catch the meaning | of but few words; usually the tone | of the voice and the gesture that ac-| companies it interpret @ spoken order | in a dog's brain. On this occaston, it was as if Fenris had read his mas- ter'’s thought. He lay supine, his eyes intent on Ben's rugged face. And now, for the first time, Ben | found himself regarding Beatrice. He could scarcely take hin eyes from her tace. He knew perfectly that he was staring rudely, but he was without | the power to turn his eyes, Her dark eyes fell under his gaze, The truth was that Ben's Iife had been singularly untouched by the in- fluence of women. Mostly his life had been spent in the unpeopled for- est, away from women of all kinds; and such creatures as had admired him in Seattle's underworld had| never got close to him. He had had many dreams; but some way It had never been credible to him that he should ever know womanhood as a source of comradeship and happl- ness, Love and marriage had always seemed infinitely from his wild, adventurous life, In his days tn prison he had given up all dream of this happiness; but now he could begin to dream again. Everything was changed now that he had come home, ‘The girl's regard for him was friendly, even somewhat admiring, and the speculations of ripening womanhood were in her eyes. He returned her gaze with frankest interest and admiration. His senses had been made sharp in his wilderness life; and his respect for her grew apace, She was not only innocent and girlish; she had those traits, innate, that a «trong man loves in women; such worth and depth of character as he wishes be- queathed to his children Ben drew @ long breath. Tt was | good to be home. He had not only found his forests, just as he had left them, but now again he was among OM. HELL LIE “TWAT, HELEN Then rough tongue lapped at the! | TURKISH CIGARS T i BY CONDO } “es, (T's TO |] A URKISH IF YOU Don’T Cike CusTARD PIE W6 C4N MAKE AN GVGEN EXCHANGE tt NO WONDER THeY - CALL THS TURK THG Si¢K MAN CF EVROPE the forest people. This girl was of | his own breed, not a st ; her standards were hi sl girl no less than he was @ we It is good to be among one’ people, thome who can follow thra and understand, She too knew the urge of unbridied vitality and spirit, common to all the woods children; and life's vivid meaning was her in- heritance, no less than his. Her arma and lips were warm from flow- ing blood, her nerves were vibrant and singing like his own, A virgin still, her eyes were tender with the warm-heartedness that ts such a dominant trait of frontier peoples; burn in them tomorrow! They were dark, lovely eyes, rather somber now in their earnestness, seeming shad- . | owed by the dark shadows of the spruce themselves. No human face had ever given him such an image of beauty as that of ‘ed forest child before was not piquant, de- sirla he had met in return. became her; simple, not holding the eye in itself but calling attention to brunette beauty of her throat and face, the warm redness of her child- OUT OUR WAY y sy Se AINWIEOOLD Coo OA color of her arms. She had dark,, would find him plunging deeper inte | day he had heard it from the lips waving hair, lovely to touch, wistful red lips. Because he was the woods- man, now and always, he marked with pleasure that there was no indl- cation of ill-health or physical weak- ness about her. Her body was lithe | ing. “I never saw anything like it; ver to see her the merchant. And this was house next door where dwelt his low traveler for the morrow, “Then it's your father—or -~who's going to the “No,” the girl answered and strong, with the grace of the/|it was just as if the wolf understood |fully. “My father ts already wild creatures, It would be good to know her, and every word you said.” “O14 Hiram had him pretty well walk beside her in the tree aisles. | trained, I suspect.” ‘The man’s eyes | sm! I'm here alone—-" Then the gray eyes lighted broke about Ben's ips, All manner of delectable possibilities | fell to the shaggy form at his fect.|times in his life had he smiled ocourred to him, But all at once he|"I'm glad I happened along Miss-——" | quite this vivid way. checked his dreams with an iron will, There must be no thought of wom- | him, Netlson! en in his life—for now, He still had “Mins Nelison,” the girl prompted “Then you,” he exulted, “Beatrice Neilson. I live here.” |{s going to be my fellow ” His mind seemed to leap morrow! but what fire, was passion might|ish mouth, end the brown, warns bis way to make. A few hours more ‘and catch at the nama, Just that ~_AContinued Mondayg ‘