The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 25, 1923, Page 13

THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 1928. THE SKYLINE OF SPRUCE By EDISON Copyright, 1922, Litt (Continued from Yesterday) There were few witnesses of this infinite giving of hers. Ben himself still Hngered in a strange stupor, re membering nothing, knowing neither the girl nor Dimeself. Perhaps the wild things saw her desperate efforts to find food in the wilderness—the long hours of weary searching for a handful of berries that gave such lit tle nourishment to his body, or for a fow acorns store winter by bird of rodent, Sometimes & great-antlered moose—an easy trophy If the rif_e had been unbroken saw her searching for woous like a lost thing in the tenaclous mud of the marshes; and almost nightly « silent wolf, pausing in his hunting, | gazed uneasily thru the cavern maw But mostly her long hours of service in the cave, the chill nights that she sat beside Ben's cot, the dreary mornings w scanty breakfast and took her un- easy rest, the endless labor of fire mending so tha kept at heat served by mortal eyes. an even went and nourishmen might of her ¢ ing fight. but for all rts she waged a los- What little woous she was able to find she made into bread for Ben; yet it was never enough to satisty his body's craving. The only meat she had herself was the vapid flesh that had been previously bolled for Ben's | broth; and now only a few pleces of the jerked neat remained, She her- self tried to live on such plants as the wilderness yielded, and she soon began to notice the tragic los of her own strength. Her eyes were hol- low, preternaturally large; she ex- perienced a strange, floating sensa- tion, as if spirit and Mesh were dis- wociated. Still Ben lHagered in his mysterious stupor, unaware of what went on about him; but his fever was almost gone by now, and the first begin- nings of strength returned to his thews, His mind had begun to grope vaguely for the key that would open the doors of his memory and remind him again of some great half-forgot ten task that still confronted him, some duty unperformed. Yet he could not quite seize it, The gir} who worked about his cot was without his bourne of knowledge; her yotce reached him as if from an infinite distance, and her words penetrated only to the outer edge of his con- sclousness. It was not strictly, how over, a return of his amnesia. It was simply an outgrowth of delirium caused by his sickness and injuries, to be wholly dispelled as soon as he} was wholly well But now the real hour of crists was| to signal to them and bring them at course. ‘at hand—not from his illness, but from the depletion of their food sup- | Until she had descended the ridge and their voices. weakened | for} nm she cooked her own the cave could be} unob- | The healing forces of his body called for warmth | the MARSHALL Je, Brown & Company SEERISEL ISIE S TIT of the cave. This was no little tragedy: the two | sticks of condensed and concentrated protein might have kept Ben. alive for a few daya more, It was disaster, and «weeping, Ar the | brave heart of the girl ettlle to bitter tears leaped forth: break under the blow The hot | but she suppressed the bitter, hope- lens hat clutched at her throat, She must not let Ben know of this catastre Likely in his stupor he| would no must | } not take the « ie must nuor- | jish the spark to the Inst pouth stood clowe, merciless sobs ance. of hope tn his breast She walk ve: and F waiting In th the hadowa, } She gared out gathering | gloom. » tears blinded her eyes at first. Slowly the dark profite of the sprnos against the gray sky penetrated to her consctousn: the somber beauty Jornens sky line that haunts dreama, With It n of the might and these shadowed tled no long, They n at lant; thoy had | rn her sadrifice and her ath. She knew the wild ite wavage power, Its re morselesanems, and yet, woods girl | that she was, she could not forget Its } dark and moving beauty. | The forent was silent tongiht. Not @ twig crecked or a branch rustied. It was hushed, breathless, darkly sinister, All at once her eyes peered | and strained into the dusk. | Far across the valley, beyond tho beaver marsh and on the farther shore of the lake she saw a little glimmer of light thru the rift in the | trees. She dared not believe in its reality at first. Perh tt was a [trick of her imagination only, a h lucination born of her starvation, jebild of her heartfelt prayer } looked away, then peered again. But, |yes—a tiny Yellow Iight twinkled thru the gloom! It was real, |it was true! A gleam of hope in | the darkness of despatr. Her rescuers had come. ould be no other explana’ hastened Into the caved, drew blankets higher above Ben's |ders, then crept out into the du Half rv stened toward ftnetr a } atren wood now m of There nm. She the ul | _Beatrice’s first Impulse was to run jat a breakneck pace down the ridge and about the lake Into her father’s camp, beseeching instant aid to the starving man in the eave. She wishe [that she had @ firearm with which Jones to the cavern. And It was not OUR BOARDING HOL 67 on MY DEAR, How 1 LOATHE GREV HAIRG « I CAN TRUTHFULLY SAV “THERE ISN'T The TRACE OF ONE GO FAR ON MY GCALP « Y‘KNow, MN GRANDMOTHER Got A SECRET HERG SUAMPOO FROM “HE CHIPPEWA WIDIANS AND WE GIRLS USED tT FROM CHILD- HooD | = on e 1 | SG w death, Ray and Chan could not be trusted at all She resolved to "proceed with the utmost caution Abruptly she turned out of the beaver marsh, where the moonlight might reveal her, and fol lowed clone to the edge of the timber, & course that could not viatble from beyond the inke. She ap- proached the lake at its far neck, then followed back along the argin clear to the edge of the woods in which the fire was built In hor years tn the woods Beatrice had learned to stalk, and the know! edge wan of value to her now, With never a mimtep she took down a lit tle game trai) toward the camp fire. She was within 60 yards of It now— © could make out three dark ures seated tn of fireli Walking soft! t upright pushed within of the fire. en she waited, in doubt as to her She wan still too far distant more thaa the murmur of If she could just get circle she to hear pilex. Beatrice had spent a hard aft-| stood at the edge of the beaver! near enough to catch their words she ernoon tn the forest In search of| meadow that her delirious joy began {could probably glean some idea of | roots and berries, and as she crept homeward, exhausted and almost empty-handed, the full, tragic truth was suddenly laid bare. Her own strength had waned. Without the of a fresh food supply she hardly keep on her feet another the wolf itt onty her, but this stal- for whose life she had so hard. fear of the obliterating dark- known to all the woods people i If Ben would only waken and sustain her drooping spirit with his own! She was lonely and afraid, tn the shadow of the inert spruce, under the gray sky. She could hardly summon strength for the evening’s work of cutting fuel. The blade would not drive with fits old force into the wood. The blaze itself burned dully; and she could not make it leap and crackle with tts old | cheer. And further misfortune was| fn store for her when she crept into the cave to prepare Ben's supper. A pack rat—one of those detested rodents known so well to all north- ern peoples—had carried off In her absence two of the three remaining sticks of jerked caribou. For a mo- | with some caut |to give way to serious thought | She was brought to a halt first by! the sight of the horses that had| about the long loop of the! lake and were feeding in the rich| | Brass of the meadow. The full moon | Fiaing in the east had cast a nebulous | slow over the whole countryside by) now; and she could make a hasty es-| timate of their numbers. It was evt- dent at once that her father had not made the expedition alone. The large outfit implied a party of at least three |Andicating that Ray Brent ana |}Chan Heminway had accompanied him. | She had only fear and disdain for | these two younger men; but surely, |they would not refuse ald to Ben. | Yet perhaps it was best to proceed mn. These were her| lover's enemies; If for no other rea-| son than thelr rage at her own ab-| duction they might be difficult to! control. Her father, in all probability, | would willingly show mercy to the helpless man in the cavern—partic ularly after she told him of Ben's! [consideration and kindnese—but sho }put no faith in Ray and Chan. She knew ther of old. Besides, she re- [membered there was a further con- sideration—that of a gold claim. Could Ben have told her the truth when he had maintained that they would kill bim on sight if he did not destroy them first? Was it true th jhe had waged the war In defense of his own rights? Weeks and months had passed since she had seen her | tather’® face: perhaps her old con their attitude toward Hen. pushed om nearer, thru the d brush, Impelied by the excttoment under which ahe advanced, her old agility of motion had for the moment re- turned to her; and she crept softly as 4 fawn between the young trees, One misstep, one rustling branch or} crackling twig might give her away; but she took each step with urn mate care, gently thrusting the tree branches from her path Once a rodent stirred beneath her feet, and she froze—like a hunting wolf—in her tracks. One of the three men looked up, and she saw bis face! plainly thru the low «pruce boughs. And for a moment she thought that | this was a stranger. It was with a/ distinct foreboding of disaster that she saw, on second glance, that the | man was Kay Brent She had never seen such change tn | human countenance in the «pace of | & few months. She did not pause to | analyze tt. She only knew that= his eyes were glittering and fixed: and that she herself was deeply, unex- plainably appalled. The man cursed | once, blasphemously, his face dusky | and evil in the eerte firelight, but | immediately turned back to his talk. Beatrice crept cloner, | Now she was near enough to catch | an occastonal word, but not discern | thelr thoughts. It was evident, how- | that thelr conversation was of Ben ang herself—the name topic they | had discussed nights without end. She caught her own name; She | wot | ones Chan | ment she gazed in unbelieving and|trol of him could no longer be relied | used an obscene epithet as he epoke speechless horror, then made a fren- ied search in the darkened corners |upon. If indeed thetr ownership of Ja rich claim depended upon Ben's ar. Page 895 “A SCHOOL TEACHER” Now, as I told you,” sald Mrs. Day, “I hadn’t much idea about things out in the world, but I knew mother, and I knew she had heen a school teacher, and that | whatever that might be, it must be the very nicest thing in the world for any woman to be, be cause mother had ‘been it.” “So, 1 answered back, as if I had thought it all cut, ‘Oh! I'm going to be a school teacher.” And 40 you know? left me. “When 1 was 7 years old mother took me away to school, I don't know how far It was from our home, but I stayed in the perfect strangers and | home of was perfectly happy because 1 was going to school. “It was just a bit of a country school, but I thought It was won- derful. “I remember one day after I had been there long enough to get used to ali the other children, a big boy of 16 years perhaps, came into the school room “He wan a nice, well-groomed fellow, and had been busy at something which kept him from starting when the rest of us did. mak That idea never But he had come back to finish up such part of his education as the country school could give him. : “And seeing him there, I was suddenly struck with the funny side of it, #0 I called right out, as if I'd found a joke on him, ‘Oh! see the MAN at school! “1 stayed there for the three months’ term, went home only once in ail the time. Then I went to Walla Walla to school, And then to a country school near my own home. “and after that I had my three years at what was then Whitman seminary, now it’s Whitman col lege. “And teach! “One year I taught @ country school, and then I got a position in the city schools of Astoria. “My, but I felt proud! A city school teacher! I had arrived “But let me tell you a litte secret, just between ourselves— the more you study the more you find out how much you don't know. “And that’s what made the next chapter of my story.” (To Be Continued) then I was ready ‘to Ran of their enemy. 1 Her instincts were true and infal-| ible tonight; and she was ever more | convinced of thelr deadly intentions | toward Ben. It was not wise to an- nounce herself yet. Perhaps sho | would have to rely upon # course other than a direct appeal for ald. Now her keen eyes could see the whole camp: the three seated figures of the men, their rifles learning near | them, their supplied read out about the fire (Continued Tomorrow) APPLE SAUCE CAKES BY BERTHA E. SHAPLE! Of Columbia University % cup butter 1 cup sugar % teaspoon cloves 1 teaspoon einnamon % teaspoon nutmeg cup raisins cup nour apple sauce teaspoon soda cups flour \% teaspoon salt Cream together the butter and sugar Add the spice, malt, and raisins. Add soda to apple sauce, and stir until it foams; pour over | other ingredients, and beat thoroly. | Stir in the flour, and bake in a loaf pan one hour, 1 1 1 Horlicks ORIGINAL Malted Milk The Original Food-Drink for All Ages juick Lunch et Home OfficetsFountains. ACCOUNTS For THe 7 DREADED ABSENCES FORTUNATE 1D HAVE WeNNA THAT 1S WHAT TWEY GAY = \@ WER CROWNING | Kare THE SEATTLE STAR BY AHERN They'd Have YP THEIR QUOTA OF GREY HAIRS Now tr “MEY HADNT THROWN, THOSE TEMPORARY, BaAWANA SKINS Wet! PATH oF “FATHER THE OLD HOME TOWN Y edd ISE to serra aie NEVER AGAIN WILL | LEAVE DEAR OLD BROAD Way! 7 Wa-Hae \ 1'D SAV “TH! ROLLING PIN WAS WOMAN'S “CROWNING” GLORN !« WHY DONT fou OLD LOAFERS GO HOME STE: O' STARING AT WEM SHOVY AC 1 aso @m SCAPED THEM = use A Hitnd RAND « V'kwow WT WoMaN'S HAIR Pb) | = wien Woy + * — nee fi ~— NEA sEAVICS THE SHOW TROUPE THAT) WAS TO PLAY /N THE OPRY HODSE TONIGHT, NEVER LEFT THE WAITING ROOM STOVE,ON ACCOUNT OF THE INTENSE COLD “TODAY. S SS \\ \ SS ~~ bs Aue “Two . ae "HAIRLOOMS ===exe, | DOINGS OF THE DUFFS { WELLO TOM = How's EVERY PODY P \. How's Helen? Wilbur Is Always So Serious WE WERE COMING OVER. TO CALL QN You THE OTWER EVENING BUT DORIS WASW'T FEELING WELL ~ SAY TOM, HOW ARE You BETTING ON THE OUTCOME? A BOY ORA GIRL? Jo, i'M NOT BETTING -I'm JUST WAITING | OH, HELLO, WILBUR) SHE'S ALLRIGHT- How ARE You? A HOARSENESS WITH HER COLD AWD. CANT TALK Back! \ FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS f > Sie fs BEEN) QUTE AA Since} | TWAS ENE MNUTES | APTERTEN® Go SEE i Take Your Time Sova oerTER | rte rT ) 3 ACE 1 MASTA cena are THY MINUTES To re) unr e BY CONDO Look, Everett + — m~ Just BEGN TO THe Denis T Hap “THIS Tooth Pucen! OUT OUR WAY OUT FROM INUNOER 4M. AN HE HADDA WALK STHUTTY MILES. HO-HO-HA-HA- ae AH, \SN'IT THAT INTERESTING } S¢a THAT YAWNING CAVITY ON “THE SIDS of tT! AND LOOK AT THAT GRAND OLD GNARLED Root! WHEN LEGS LATHAM RIDES A REAL SHORT HORSE HE HAS “TO BUILD MTHE HORSE UP “YO FIT HIM. reversed in meeting | gia 7 | She was jealous of him, but their Jas jealous for him! Like all |she wanted her man to be the she had men friends, positions might now be reversed. Perhaps it isn't so much myself or Alice's self which put either of us where we are, the thought continued; it may bel just circumstances with which we | came in touch at various times, | She marveled at Alice's willing. ness to share her little worldly spot! with another woman. And she wondered who the man had been, the one man who stood “lout in Alice’s life so distinctly that, in spite of her reticence, her friend had gensed the affair, Could it be possible that he was the man with | jwhom she had seen Alice? Could the slim, slouching figure she saw bending toward Alice, as he entered | — , the hotel, be the man for whom the| “HOW girl cared so much? And, if he was what of Dan? What pla as rn their 5 See a& jwanted him to bp very app |her own. | “You've gone away from me jinto one of those dream which you create 80 easily,” Latham’s voice aroused her, “Yes,” pensively, | ‘They were winding around a lin the road whieh followed the bank. A charming little shack, ly logs, partly rough stone, was ible. “Your estate,” James |smiled, and waved toward the ture. “Is that the fishing shack?” was eager. “That's tt” As the car came to a halt skipped out and up the path, “How do you get in?” she firs C \X S CHAP. 41—THE FISHING TODAY | SHACK she visite the t there, A something of Alice's life. Joins Latham, waiting In hte car GO ON WITH THE STORY xdept for asking James Latham to drive to the little fishing shack where Dan's trunk had been left, Kate was silent when she returned to the car, Something the woman said of Alice held her attention she nt he a fine BEGIN HERE WARD, widow of DAN WARD, living with her father, JUSTIN PARSONS, has a visitor, CIUINATOWN ALICE, who ways Dan was father of her ohtid, DOROTHY, Kato C7 mil AAW ‘J much perturbed DO YOU GET IN?” , her vanity was hurt that, lady now if oceupied in the girl's life’ since believed Dan had been in: } | had Dan | Strang ‘ichMilk, Malted Grain Extract in Pow- der & Tablet forms. Nourishing-No cooking. ©® Avoid imitations and Substitutes while hin pant eo a Altes, begaing | Katee ald, Accompanied by Latham, she hadn't fallen for man.” Perhaps, over her should (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1923, by Seattle the wrong| Kate found some comfort in the |terested in Alice, the girl had not |thought that Alice's chief interest |given him her first and greatest a thought Kate, if Alice had been im some other man. Yet, |fection. jattractive to other women, yet #