The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 27, 1923, Page 11

THE SKYLINE OF SPRUCE By EDISON MARSHALL Copyright, 1922, Little, (Continued from Yesterday) XXNXIX For the second time in his life Ray | 1 Grent felt the sting of Boatrico’s | won't—you couldn’t be @ partner to B strong hand against his face, In the fexperation of fear had smote | him with all her force, His arms! withdrew quickly from about her; | and ber wide, disdainful eyes beheld @ sinister change In his expression, | The moontight was in his eyes, | ver-white; and they seemed actually to redden with fury, and again she saw that ghastly twitching at | the corner of bis ips. ‘The girl's de: flance was broken with that dlow. She dropped her head, then | walked past him into the presence of ber father Neilson and Chan were on their | feet now, and they in| the utter aitente nent Breathing fast, Ray came behind her. Built up the fire, Chan,” he said tn & strange, grim voice, “We want to} see what we've caught.” | Ovediently Chan kicked the coals} from under the ashes, and began to | heap on broken pleces of wood. The | sticks smoked, then a little tongue of | yellow flame crept about the fuel. But | stil the emburdened stlence con-| tinued—the white-faced girl in the ring of silent, watching men. Slowly the fire's glow crept outto her, revealing—even better than the| bright moonlight—her wide, fright- ened eyes and the dark, speculative taces of the men. Then Ray spoke sharply tn his place. “Well, why don’t you question her?” he demanded of Neilson. “I suppose you know what she was| doing. She was trying to steal food. | It looks to me like she’s gone over to the opposite camp.” io Her father sighed, a peculiar sound that seemed to come from we the tree tops, as If fast-Mying e-fowl passing overhead. “Ts that so, daughter?” he asked simply. “I was trying to take some of your food—to Ben,” Beatrice replied soft- ty. “He's tn need of it.” “You see, they're on queer regarded ot ama intimate But Nefison acted as if he had not heard. “Why didn’t you speak to us —and tell us you were safet” he asked. “We've come all the way here here to find Ben. I heard what they snid—back there in the brush. They intend to kill him when they find him. I—I don’t want him killed” Her father stared at her from un- starving—and Ben's sick. , I make this one appeal—if love for me isn't all gone, you'll | T love him. You might as| I Hoe: He H F | eyes snapped into & flame. If Beatrice had glanced at Ray, she! would have ceased her appeal and) trusted everything to the doubtful | mercy of Might—into the gloom of the forest. As it was, she did not fully comprehend the cruel tust, Ike | flame, that sped thru his veins. She} would have hoped for no mercy if} she could have seen the strange, black surge of wrath in his face. “He has been kind to me—and he was in the right, not in the wrong. 1 know about the claim-jumping. Father, I want you to stand between him and these men—help him—and give him food. I didn’t spenk to you because I was afraid for him—afraid you'd kill him or do some other awful thing to him——" » Slowly her father shook his head. | “But I eah't save him now. He . Brown & Company sistsstsssstsssisisstsstissiisisssssis sisted be n himself,” ‘ he was in the right died brokenly, “*Y the girl rae That's all it would be brutal, terrthla, cold-blooded if you kill him without a It couldn't be in defense of I tel! you he hasn't Injured me but was always kind to me, It would be just to take that letter away from him: m mu fight me » or “Bo he has the letter, has he?" Ray interrupted, He amiled grimly, and hie tone Was again flat and strained. “And he's sick—and tarving. It isn’t for your father to say, Beatrice, what's to be done with Ben. There's three of us here, and he's Just one. Don’t go interfering with what doem't concern you, elther—about the claim. You take us where he ta, and we'll decide what to do with him.” Hor eyes went to his face; and her lips closed tight. Here was one thing, on this mortal earth, that she must not tell. Perhaps, by the mercy of heaven, they would not find the ave, hidden as It was at the edge of the little glade, The forests were boundless; perhaps they would miss the ace im thelr search. Bhe straightened, scarcely perceptibly. “You, tell us where he ta” her father urged. “That's the first thing. We'll fing him, anyway, in the morn. ing. ‘The girl shook her head. She’ knew now that even ff they promised merey she must not reveal Ben's THE SEATTLE STAR BY AHERN TU LeTY*TAke A COUPLA MY COLLARS BUS, IF YON “TRICK UP GOME WAN TD GRAFT ‘Em “OGE THER WO MAKE ‘EM FIT = WRAP A SLICE OF FLANNEL AROUN!! Nour Neck ai! LET AO io A LAME THROAT ! GOSH, WHAT AM I GONNA Do FoR A SHIRT Au! COLLAR FOR “TONIGHT Au OMORROW 2 « THeVve GREETINGS FROM { TW’ SOAP ACROBATS, BUS © YouR LAUNDRY WoN'Y BE READY FoR Action) UAITIL MontDAY f= HOP LEE GTUBBED HIS GOOD ENE LOOKWG FoR Your SuNDUe A)’ COULDT FIND tt “THURSDAY! « GAY, FOR A DIME ID BouNCE DOWN “DO THAT FLATIRON BAZAAR AN’ GPIN TH’ WHOLE GANG be ge whereabouts Their rage and cruelty | __~ would not be stayed for @ spoken promise, ‘The only card she had left, her one last, feeble hope of preserv- ing Ben's life, lay inher continued silence. Ray's foul-nailed, eager hands could claw her ips apart, but | he could not make her speak. | “I won't tell you,” she answered at last, more clearly than she had spok- en since her capture. few minutes ago I had the opposite camp, I am, from now on. He was in the right, and he gave Pjup bis fight against you long ago. Now I want to go.” Fearing that Noetlson might show mercy, Ray leaped tn front of her. “You don't go yet awhile” he told her grimly. “T've got a few minutes’ business with you yet. I tell you that we'll find him, tf we have to sarch all year. And he'll have twice the chance of getting out alive if you tell us where be ta” She looked Into his face, and she know what that chance was, Her/ eyelids dropped halfway, and she shook her head. “T'd die first,” she answered “It never occurred to you, did it, that there’s ways of making people tell things." He suddenly whirled, with drawn Ips, to her father, “Net! son, is there any reason for showing any further consideration to this| wench of yours? She's betrayed us| —fone over to the opposite camp—| lived for weeks, willing, with Ben. I for one am never going to see her leave this camp till she tells us where he is. I'm tired of talking and wait- ing. I'm going to get that paper away from him, and I'm going to| smash his heart with my heel. We've, almost won out—and I'm going to) go the rest of the way.” | Netison straightened, his eyes steely and bright under bis grizzied brows. Only too well he knew that this was the test. Affairs were at their crisis at last. But in this final moment his love for his daughter swept back to him tn all its unmeasured fullness —and when all was said and done it was the first, the mightiest impulse im his life. Ben had been kind to her, and she loved him; and all at once he knew that he could not yield him or her to the mercy of this black-hearted man before him. He had lived an iniquitous life; he was inured to all except the worst form of wickedness; but for the mo- ment—in love of bis daughter—he stood redeemed. He was on the right wide at last His hand drew back, and his face was like tron. “Shut that foul mouth!” he cau- tioned, with a curious, deadly even- ness of tone, “I haven't surrendered yet to you two wolves. If one of you dares to lay a hand on Beatrice, I'l kill him where he stands.” Fiven as he spoke his thought went to his rif_e, leaning against a dead log 10 feet away. This was the mo- ment of test: the jealousy and ri- vairy and hatred between himself and Ray had reached the crisis. And ‘ar. * * bad Page abel _C DON: Seattle _ » 897 SOME STORIES WITH BAD ENDINGS David complained one day that no one ever told him # pioneer story with a danger which proved to be real, or « happening which ! didn’t turn out beautifully in the end. | So he began to search about and he found so many bitter, sad | ones that he wished he hac been | contented to leave his book of | stories as it was, with the | endings left out. ‘The first one was about a dog. Of course, dogs aren't people, but | they get to be almost @ part of | the family after we've had them | about # year or two. | Well, when this pioneer family | started on their long journey they didn’t even think of leaving Rex; they didn’t know, of course, anything about the terrible trials ahead of them or maybe they | would have given him to some friend and left him there in Minsourt. : There were boys in this family, and 4 dear big sister Margaret, but no mother at all And one of the older brothers | had married and ali the way! acrows his little wife was ill, #0 | Margaret coo! nd planned and | managed and nursed her sick sis- ter and was a very busy girl--#0 busy and so anxious that some- times she. simply couldn't remem- | and made }a crash of thunder ber everything that she wanted to keep on her mind. One night they camped on the Platte river. The air was heavy and hot and the cattle stirred rest- lessiy. Not @ breath of wind moved in the tree tops. “No doubt we'll have a storm before morning,” one of the men said, “Better make everything tight for the night.” Margaret beard and she re minded the boys of all sorts of little things which must be done her sister comfy for the night, and then, because she was young and tired, she crept into her bed in the wagon and promptly went to sleep. ‘The storm clouds gathered and thickened, and the hig! blacker and blacker and pr ly a great jagged streak of light ning tore thru the cloud bank and roared and rumbled terribly. ‘Under the wagon crouched Rex, every bristle on his back standing straight, his eyes shining like live coals, his heart beating like @ trip-hammer; the one thing in the world that Rex feared was upon him—a storm. At home he always ran into the hotse and kept close to Margaret, or hid in the ot near her coat, but what coul a dog do in a place like this? (To Be Continued) aeatwe |"And I say to you, you're a dirty [ewift, and the spirit of murder, terriblo past any demon of the Pit, came stalking the savage forest into the ruddy fire ght, Ray leered, his muscles bunching. TOM, 1S THIS YouR. SON, DANNY THAT I'VE WEARD You TALK SO HOW DO You DO, MR. DANNY DUFF? HOW ARE You ToDay Do You Go To Schoo. P traitor, too,” he answered. “She's Ben Darby's squaw. She's not fit for & white man to touch any more, for all her lies You say one word and you'll get It, too.” And at ‘that instant the speeding pace of time seentwd to halt, showing this accursed scene, so savage and ter- rible in the eerte light of the camp fire. at the edge of the haunted breath leas darkness, in vivid and ghastly de- tall. Nelison leaped forward with ali his power; and tf bis blow had gone home, Ray would have bean shattered beneath it like a tree in the lightning blast. But Ray’s arms were incredibly his rifle leaged tn his} hands, | ‘he barrel gleamed. The roar re- echoed in the nile Nellson’s bead bowed strangely; and for a moment he stood swaying, a ghastly blackness on his face; then pitched forward tn the dew-wet «rasa. Beatrice’s last defense had fallen, seriously wounded; and Ray's arm seized ber aa, screaming, she tried to tee. (Continued on Monday) PUFF PASTE BY BERTHA EF. SHAPLEIGH ‘ | Of Columbia University | For patty shells, to be filled with creamed meat, fish or vegetabica, for the top of a meat ple or for| small pastries, puff paste ts needed. | Following ts a good recipe _ -—s | EVERETT TRUE BY CONDO % pound (1 cup) butter -— AND, AS AN INDUCEMGENT FoR % pound (2 cups) flour \% teaspoon salt CASH, WS ARS OFFERING 4 BEsVTIFUL Yolk 1 ee 1 tablespoon lemon fulce Toewater to moisten Work the butter under the water juntil wax-like but not soft enough | to be hard to handle. Work a small piece into flour and salt. Add lemon juice and slightly beaten egg yolk |to four, making a little hole in cen this pour @ small of water. ‘Then, with a knife gradually make @ ball of dough. “As needed, add water until all the flour has been moistened and the large dough ball can be lifted from the bowl On a@ wollfloured cloth, marble or board, knead until smooth, cover and let stand two minutes. With a well-floured ing pin pat and roll to % inch thick In the butter, fold paste’s siden and ends until butter is on 1, pat until quite a bit! thinner, being careful butter does not come thru the dough or the dough stick to the board; roll to % | inch thick and fold in three folds. | Chill and repeat this process seven | times. It ts then ready to une. MOTHER OF LARGE FAMILY Recommends Lydia E.Pink- ham’s Vegetable Compound to Other Mothers Windom, Minn.—‘L was so run-down that I was just good for nothing. ‘I was to become the mother of m ninth child, and thought I did not have the strength | togothrough with it T took Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege- table Compound, and it has surely done all I could aak it to do and I am telling all my friends about it have a nice big baby girl and am feel~ ing You may use this letter to pT Tone Siig rl + gaa CHAP. 48—“I WAS THE WOMAN” x i , \ My First Child | BEGIN HERE TODAY ” KATE WARD, widow of ie Al ody taking edhe in |BAX WARD, living with her tather, f i % TIN PARSONS, haa a visitor bearing-down feelingsand pains,Iwas |" ‘father of her child | troubled in this way for nearly four | ponc 4 much perturbed. : A years following the birth of my first | f™, 5 alee ane tee ee ree child,and at times could hardly stand | thate home end carry him | of on my feet. A neighbor recommended |_| ‘overing, he saya he te ble Compound to me after | JAMS LATHAM, He woos Kate ; doctor's medicines with- acai pon Mgt ey 6 ge hm ie ie ahi level Goeiek Made out much benefit. Ithas relieved my | ‘then 1’ dovelops that Latham ° mae Seely, tinge pains and gives me strength. I recom-| quainted with Dan, and belt she Ufted ther tenderly and mend it and give you perr ulgaton, to use my testimonial! letter. "—-Mrs.IbDa Ryrz, tion ter, and into amount center, place HUH ! THE | DGA OF A LOON COMING ARoVND To SGLLC SOMETHING THIS Soon ATER CHRISTMAS ! ee. ‘ BY RUTH AGNES ABELING glancing from the window, GO ON WITH THE STORY At length she turned from the window and amiled, “I've the courage now, she said. “Open it.” Jimmy,” Once more Latham lifted the cover the trunk, As he touched the conte Kate knelt beside him. 5 me dott," she said She, te out the latter owned which may contain | Garment after garment she removed. papers throwing light on hie part rey | Not until she came to the last Yisit the shack, Ging the crunk 0nd ["shabby, atained coat did ahe ap » fnows of @ trunk in ® flshihg shack |laid them on the floor beside her. Allen, Alabama We ‘(, IF TRE AUDIENCE WILL RETURN To Fy THEIR CHAIRS WILL RESUME “THE PLAY!: oa. wi THE SHOW AT THE OPRY HOLSE WAS STOPPED /N THE FIRST ACT, WHEN A SECTION OF AN OVER HEATED STOVE PIPE FELL ON THE STAGE,KNOCKING OVER ONE OF THE MAIN ACTORS Danny Meets the Boss AND WHAT ARE ‘You GOING “To BE WHEN ‘You GROW UP To BE A MAN~ A LAWYER OR. ‘A DOCTOR, OR. WHAT ?. ? 1 HAVEN'T 94 peciogover OUT OUR WAY 1 JuST HADTOLET HIM GO UNTILL You CAME HOME, WAS “100 “TIRED “To WHIP HIM MYSELF. Pssssr i som) “It looks as if our quest had|silence, “why not forget all of this? failed,” she said, ‘There is nothing |Forget Alice and Dorothy, forget here, no letter of any kind. I have |everything that ts past and begin been fooled this time.” over again—with me? ' As she replaced the clothing, Kate} “Oh, I know I made a promise! searched every pocket but found |he on as Kate tried to in nothing besides a few cigaret papers, |terrupt, “but I made it because T an old pipe and some matches. believed I should make it and now “Clone it, Jimmy, and let's take it|!'m breaking it because I know I back with She had replaced |Should break tt. the last article. Her voice was tone} “The past,” he continued, “should less. always be just—past. It has no Latham dragged the trunk from|claim upon the future. You are the cabin and lifted it to the back| wasting your life in living tt for a of his car. He closed the deserted |dream of something which is gone. house once more and started with |Let me try to make you happy.” Kate toward the home of her father.| “I can’t,” Kate said, “not yet— “Strange,” Latham was muttering | there is something in me that won't half to himwlf. ‘Kate caught the|let me. I should feel as if I were word breaking faith with tne dead.” ri “But suppose,” Latham's Kate was low was sear levity. words, “suppose you should find “I know I saw him put a packet |had not been square? of letters in the v trunk which | sb id say I knew he | we have in thin ca Latham went Kate did not reply he was sit. on, ignoring Kate's remark. ting Quietly at his side. Her hand, “Bulg be continued, after alwhite and relaxed, lay on the door rushed no ‘ophecy was he hing int been?" NOT SO LOUD SHE'LL THINK 1 KILUN’ YOU: of the car. “Suppose I should tell you during the war I saw him at @ on leave in Paris and,” evenly, he was registered with a Latham way ‘watching hand, White and relaxed it Sbe moved not ever so ail controlled, woman.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1928, by Seattle § tinued to rest on the door of the | When she spoke, her voice waa “It you told me that," she “I should tell you that I was: me ad