The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 20, 1923, Page 11

SATURDAY, JANUARY 20, 1923. THE SKYLINE OF SPRUCE By EDISON MARSHALL Copyright, 1928, Little, Brown & Company SERSEESESESESRSESESSIEESESESSEATETIES ESTEE (Continued From Yesterday) Her uneasiness was swiftly devel oping into panic. Just today she was willing to risk his life for her free y folly now to air by dwelling ry rtati on mysterious absence. might speed the passing minu she got up and found some work Jo about the cave; but she stmply had no heart for It, Once she sat up, only to Ite down agatn. The moments dragged by would have had time to ‘The storm neither in only played Surety he react camp by now. creased nor decreased ite mournful melodies In The song of the rain was despairing 4tow mournful notes rising to a sharp crescendo as the flercer gusts swept It into the tree tops. The limbs murmured unhappily as they smote together; and a tall tree, swaying tn the wind, creaked with a maddening regularity. She was never so lonely before, so darkly miserable. “I want him to come,” her votce suddenly spoke aloud It reng strangely in the gloomy cave “I want him to come back to She felt no impulse for the words ‘They seemed to speak themselves. Presently she sat erect, ber heart leaping with inexpressible relief at the sound of a heavy tread at the edge of the glade. The steps came nearer, and then paused. She sprang to her fect and went to the mouth of the cave. A silence that lived between the beating rain and the complaining wind settled down about her. Her eyes could not pierce the darkness “Is that you, Ben? she called. She strained into the silence for his reply. The cold drops splashed into her face. “Ben ?'“she called again. yout” ‘Then something leaped with an ex- plostve sound, and running feet splashed tn the wet grass in flight. ‘The little spruce trees at the edge of the giade whipped and rustied as a heavy body crashed thru. The steps had been only those of some forest beast—a caribou, perhaps, or @ moose ~come to mock her despair. She remembered that Ben had been wishing for just such a@ visitation these past few days; of course in the daylight hours when he could see to shoot. Their meat supply was almost forest “Is that gone She did not go to her cot again. came to nothing. The storm was al- ready of two hours’ duration, and Ben would have certainiy returned to ‘the cave unless disaster had befallen him. Was he lost somewhere in the a 4 Yi The ably: wey & z i ing it might take her r fears for a while at warm glow might dis- pel the growing cold of fear and Joneliness in her breast. Besides, tt might be a beacon light for Ben. She dure the rain, she must cut fuel from some of the logs Ben had hewn down | and dragged to the cave. She lighted| & short piece of pitchy wood, intend- ing to locate the heavy camp axe ‘Then putting on her heavy coat—the same garment of lustrous fur which Ben had sent her back for the day of her abduction—ehe ventured into the storm. ‘The rain splasheg in vain at her! torch. The pitch burned with a fierce flame. But her eyes sought in vain for the axe. This was a strange thing: Ben al- ways left it leaning against one of the chunks of spruce. Presently she halted, startled, gazing into the black depths of the forest. | Ben bad taken it | gone forth after fuel, about the ittle glade: he have gone far. The {fference wa: whateve stor had be irred wit he had plain! obvious dina, & few hundred yai ling her torch him must he igh sho of th and aga called into the gloom. vatce brepression tn her now called as loudly as she could. ata push on inte the fri © she paused, elt-control. It blind search. trat k mystery of tt with only this little light-alres fitckering out—would probably result in becoming lost herself. Such a ourse would not help Rex Evidently he was lying within a £ hundred feet of her | perhaps dead—or he would have re | plied to her call. | Dead! ‘The thought sped an tk | current thruout the hydrault | of her veins, | She was a mountain gtri, and no further false motto. 4 at once to the cave, and pilir er kindling, built @ fire the mouth of the cave. It was pr tected hare in some degree fr rain, and the wind was right to car the smoke away. This fire w serve to keep her direction and lea | her back to the cavern. ventured tnto t ng all the cut fuel ft on her fire har to tur ust 6 m Once more # | storm, and gath she could find, p The two sy ch cut for thetr placed as back logs. Then she bunt ed for pine knots taken from the pines that grew In scattering }clumps among the spruce, and which were laden with pitch, One of these knots she put in the jtron pan they used for frying, then |itghted tt, Then she pushed into the | timber. fireside seats were | Holding her Nght high she began 7! |to enctrele the gtade clear to the barrier of the cliffs. To the eyes of |the wild creatures this might have been a nover-to-be-forgotten picture [the altght form of the girl, her face blanched and her eyes wide and dark in the Maring light, her grotesque torch and its weird shadows, and then rain sweeping down betwren. She | reached the cliff, then started back, |making a wider circle. Adding fresh fuel to the toreh, she ined with minute care any human shaped shadow in that eerie workd of |shadows; but the tong halt-ctrcle |brought her back to the cliff wall | without resulta She was already wet OUR y I C'MON © ONE OF You GUYS SKATE PARTNERS WH ME « 1 Won't LET V'FALL I © GIMON, Jes’ ONCE AROUND “TH’ PoND aN’ Siow 'EM SOME GRace AN! Poise! ka that Ben had _ Instantly she was beside the form of her comrade and enem seeing with the 1 limbs that pinned him to the xXxXxXV co knew one thing and one pat she must not give way to Be alone ty work to do, and she must keep strong. Her only wish was to kneel beside him, to lift the bleeding head into her arma and let the storm and the darkness smother her existence; but her stern woods training came to her ald. She began the stupendous task of freeing him from the imprisoning tree iimbs. ‘The pine knots flickered feebly; and by their light she looked about for Ben's axe. Her eyes rested on the broken gun first: then she saw the blade, shining in the rain, pro- truding from beneath a broken bough. She drew tt out and swung it down. Some of the leaser timbs she broke off, with @ strength in her hands «! power against the dead log beside | which Ben lay. In a moment she a had rolled tt aside [she had gone. But when she was | halfway around, she suddenty halted. | motionless as an image, at the edge | of the stream. ‘The flickering light revealed a tree, freahly cut, Ite naked stump gleam- thing showed stark white thru the green = foliage. Great branches stretched over it, like bars over | [one-fourth of an tach thick and cut her whole body. The Iife-beat, the mystery that Is betng, seemed to steal away from her, Her strength wilted; land for an instant she could only stand and gaze with fixed, unbelley- ing eyes. But almost at once the unquenchable fires of her spirit blazed up anew. She mw her task, and with a faith and steadfastness conformable more to the sun and the earth than to human frailty, her ‘muscles made Instant and incredible response. HER NEAREST NEIGHBOR “1 can just hear grandmother telling us the story of it,” Mra Day went on. “She would say, ‘and there was I, loft alone tn | the wilderness ent. arent” “Didn't there be any good neighbors to keep care of you?” Peggy asked. “Sometimes not so very far away pioneers did have nelshbors.” “Now, that's interesting, too,” Mrs. Day said. “You can't guess with eight who was the nearest neighbor. | Not very far awny was the sol diers’ barracks, and a big house in which the general lived. And his name was—* “U. 8. yelled it “Phil Sheridan,” Mrs. Day cor: rected him. “Tho both Grant and Sheridan were often guests her home. bought and lived tn that Sheridan house, but he moved it more than a mile first “But all that was long before I | was born. My first memories are of the home we had there in the deep Oregon woods, where, no matter which way you looked, you could never see out, you always looked into the woods; trees and trees, and trees, and rain! “I had two grandmothers. That Grant?’ David almost | in | My uncle afterward | [was a good deal for a@ little plo |neer girl to have way out here, land with all my threeyearold heart I loved my iittle grand | mother and didn’t love my big | grandmother. | “Big grandmother was the stern } |sort of person who was always | saying to mother, ‘Esthert I think lyou ought to whip that éhild for that? And I was ‘that child’ and I didn’t at all like.the sort of advice she was giving my mother “Little grandmother lived quite |a distance away, but when she came she seemed to bring sun. shine with her, and when she | gtarted to go home she would hold me tight and say, ‘I'm going to take her hore with me, Lend her to me & little while,’ with not #0 much as a whisper about that whipping business. “Ones 1 remember, mother let me go. And I had a wonderful visit (I wasn't yet four years old) land when it came time to start bom, grandmother found me on the fence. “It was an old-fashioned rail fence, quite high, what we called @ ‘worm fence.’ I was walking on the peeling a pear with ja big butcher knife and eating it with great joy!” (To Be Continued top rail, (Continued Monday.) as Mother Baked ’Em | “BY BERTHA F. SHAPLEIGH } Of Columbia University Make a good, plain paste, rofl to into mquares, each large enough to cover an apple completely. The apples should be pared, cored and dipped in melted butter, Fill each cavity left by the core’s re moval with one tablespoonful of sugar, mixed with a quarter of a tablespoonful of cinnamon. jace an apple on a equare of paste and bring the four corners up to meet at the top, Pinch the sides | firmly tog | Put the apples, thus covered, on ® pan and bake 20 to 40 minutes in @ hot oven. Serve with cream, or hard muce made by creaming together one-half cupful of butter and one cupful of powdered sugar. Add one-fourth tea spoonful of lemon and a few drops of vanilla extract. NO OPERATION FOR HER She Took Lydia E.Pinkham’sV etable Compound and Esca: the Operation Doctor Advised Louisville, Ky.—“‘ wish to thank you for what your medicine has done for me. I was in bed for eight or nine days every month and had a atdeal of pain. Fhe. doctor "said and they surely did wonders for I feel fine all the time now, alsoam picking up in weight. I will tell any one that your m 8 are wonder- ful, and you may publish my letter if you wish. irs. Ep. BoRMNLEIN, 1180 Ash Loui je, Ky. Backache, nervousness, painful times, irregularity, tired and run- down feelings, are cutee of fe- male troubles. Lydia E. Pinkham’ Vegetable Compound should be taken whenever there is reason to foar such troubles. It contains nothing that can injure, and tends to tone up and strengthen the organs concerned, so that they may work in a healthy, normal manner. Let it help you as it has thousands of others tt A now selling almost all over the world, BOARDING HOUSE DOROTHY. THE Gt NOT ME BUS « YouRE BiG ENouGH to SKATE “TANDEM WITH YOURGELE ! + MIG ICE IS ONLY SIX INCHES FAT AN! GLIDING OVER rrwrth You WOULD BE LIKE WALKING OVER A TISSUE PAPER BRIDGE WITH WET GHors ! DOINGS OF THE DUFFS On, MOTHER, WHAT CHA MAKING ? SEATTLE STAR PAGE BY AHERN THE OLD HOME TOWN 7 STN NouR <== DISTANCE BUG !- Don't “TRY To GANG UP WMH UG OR WE'LL “THAW OUT NEXT SUL W GOMERODYS ict BOK WITH A BUNCH OF LETTUce ow ouR CHEST! ere sa yor ee HERM WHERE) “FoLb ing PITCH ForRKs 2 || COLLAPsI@Le LANTERN: ng Pe Lavin Movers mY ALWAYS GETS OUT OF SIGHT WHEN EVER \ WANT Him ‘TO WELP ME! ann tn o . “HERM DOOLITTLE, “THE “TOWNS CHAMPION WHITTLER, WAS STANDING IN THE WRONG SPOT WHEN THE Siow ON PETTICORDS ROOF SLID OFF. Danny Makes a Discovery fT 1, AND THAT LITTLE Ty Baby 1S GOING TD DE Your TTLE BROTER! OR YouR LTTLe ALITTLE Bromer Yas SiR, RIGHT RIGHT IN-THIS HouSE}IN THIS HOUSE HERE, LIVING WITH How Do You “THINK You wii. LIKE "THAT ? PLL LIKE IT FING BUT GEE, WHERE Do | GET OFFP BE SOMETHING FoR ALITTLE FOOH POOH ede | V\ZLYG CERTNY THEY DO! My PUP Hy 1S TELUN HAT DORG wor GJ Y HE. THINKS OF HIM: HES SAMIN’= “GWAN YOU BIG HOMELY ROUGH- NECK+IF YA GET FRESH WITH ME {LL BrreE A COUPLA HUNKS QUTA YA" ATS WOT HES SAVIN! as tr EACH OTHER WEN THENRE SMELLIN’ LiKE THAT’ 7 I See YOU'RE ONE CF THESE BOYS THat WHGN THGY SEE THGY CAN'T ANSWGR AN ARGUMGNT WITH LOGic, PREFER To MGGT THS |SSUG BY FAacCING Back On POOH POOFER. f!! Awe RIGHT — FAcU Back ttl THE ONE-MAN WOMAN BY RUTH AGNES ABELING CHAP: 87—AN BEGIN HERE TODAY KATE WARD, widow of DAN WARD, fiving with her father, JUSTIN PARSONS, has « visitor, CHINATOWN , who saya Dan wns father of turbed. A her father find an unoonacious man, 4, and carry bim in, He recovers, | He woon Kate, who. at | did speak of his wife.” “You?” Kate's tone was eager, “He sald he had Just written a fara letter to bis wife which she might what to do. « shack 6 unknown girl that be hae with bim at of a reference to perhaps UNEXPECTED ot “Do Latham'’s 1 |“But there isn't much more to tell.” “You—finish.” victim of an auto oresh, near thelf| aie nig wympathy “Talk of the girl furlate Dan,” never read but which he meant more than anything he had ever said or dono tn his life."* “A letter—to mof Kate's smile |was glorious. The sun, shifting | thru the trees, brought out the lights in her hair and eyes. tiful. | “Where did he the LETTER “In the trunk, I think." “Then we must find that trun! mysterious trunk whieh, could it] Kate was on her feet. “Just where und, seeme likely to contain the li. the fishing shack?” ¥ of Dan's past ; “On the Wabash, not far from 0 ON WITH THE STORY |rorre Haute, and I suppose, after ou want mo to go ont” lal! of this, there isn’t any use in lone was sympathetic. |eaying over aguin something I've rd ® KATE RECOGNIZED THE already said to you # thousand | pin times?” earnestly. RITING AS THAT OF ALICE. | | “No, Jimmy, not now. I couldn't] “I promise.” The promise meant! |be honest with. y w anyway be-|much to James Latham, His brown Jeause I'm in & tumult, mentally and jeyes rested on Kate with something piritually, Help find out about jof doglike devotion, |then looked up, Alice and about the trunk and then| His steps lagged as he walked! “Will you take me to Terre H way what you want to to me all over |toward the house. Kate hurried |right away?” she asked. again and 1’ give you an honest /ahead, Justin would be waiting for) (To Be ane Wwety breakfast, (Copysight, 1925, by Seattle “You're brighter than usual table, He liked to seo her “Yes,” Kate offered no ex] tion, “T am.” The meai finished, James |maie his way toward the where he found his car and & into the yard. He was leaving | Parsons household to go to his home, It might be long before saw Kate again if he lived up to promise, and he knew that he As he turned, Kate approached machine, her hand outstretched. Just then Justin came inte yard with @ letter in his hand, “This is for you, Katie,” he She was beau-| }} . | put letter?” | Kate couldn't en: wemed to in “Her Dan ou x that of Alice, Latham waited, Latham © opened the letter, scanned it wasn't me toned, But me morning,” Justin looked fen | his daughter as she sat down BY STANLEY 4 Ae Ri Kate recognized the writing as” ee