The evening world. Newspaper, May 28, 1914, Page 23

i oe The Ev tune oot f* Gibson Pub- SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. [EN she was ten years old,” said Harrison, “she went out one day on the Wildcat trail, the one you camo im over, She was strong and healthy, and having Aittle to carry, pushed on too far. Night fell and I grew worried. I had oftén warned her that if she was ever bentghted on the trail never to try to follow it aftor the light had failed, but to camp where she was till morning. “I was confident my instructions would be obeyed, but nevertheless I ‘was worried. I took @ bull's-eye lan- tera and went half way along the trail before I found her. She had stuck to the tratl till the light grew dim, and then had made a little bed of balsam boughs an@ lay on ‘* sleep- ing sweetly. The remains of her little campfire, and the bones of fish showed me that she had not fasted. Do you know what I did then?" “Awakened her and carried her home, I presume.” ‘That was my first instinct, but I did not follow it. If I had showed her that I was frightened about her my fear would have been commun- feated to her. Possibly if such a thing occurred again, she would attempt to relieve my anxiety and her own fears by pushing on. So I came home and ett was ali right. The next morning she returned full of her experience, and I praised her for her action.” “he is a wonderful girl,” Dougiase enid, “and has bad a unique educa- ‘tion.’ “ghe is, a9 I sald, fearless and self- retiant—a perfectly normal child.” ‘That evening after supper, when their cigars had been lighted, Har- Figon said to his daughter: “Mary, you haven't sung for me for eaveral days.” “I have been so busy with our guest and you, I haven't thought of it. I'll ‘sing to both of you now.” Then to ugiass: “Do you want to hear me eipg?” “Yes, indeed, Lady Mary.” Bhe ran lightly from the room and @isappeared in the darkness. A little later her clear, sweet voice was borne r out on the leke singing “Schubert's Serenade.” " eo true artis pirit,”” id when the song was finished, and then sighed a littl “It Is her mother’s blood; I believe the mother's blood is always predom- inant. “I don't agree with you she has many of your trai Harriaon looked at him strangely, and then said hastily: “Traits, yes, but they are only imi- tations, not instinct. Her mother sang very beautifully and had the same artistic spirit which Mary displays in ainging from her canoe instead of in room. The mother's blood {s pre- minant in us all for good or evil. “I am not so sure of that; I hat known bad men with good mothers. “Certainly, but not many good men with bad mothers.” “Take my half-breed guide,” Doug- lars said; “his mother, he tells me, was a full blood squaw, yet he has as little of the Indian in him as you or 1." entirely; “There are aquaws," Harrison replied. “And, again, you have had no chance to sea the truth yet. Mark my words, his mother’s blood is strong in him, and if the occasion ever arises when he is called upon to display it, you will see my theory justified,” i Douglass laurhed. “I hope, it won't come,” he answered. ‘That night as he reviewed the dis- guasions of the day, Douglass told himself that his host was right about the money. Thoughts of money car- ried his mind back to Bruce. His animosity was waning in tho nov- elty of changing scenes and the re- juvenation of his shattered body. Nevertheless he had promised Bruce thay he would «ry quits with him, ané he had no iutention of abandon- ing phe idea. He decided that some time he would lay the whole matter befeve Harrison and see what hie ideay were. He had views on most subjects; it yous be interesting to now what he ¢! it on this one. Hg wondered wit Harrison's story was. He well knew that there was Sofyening untold. On most subjects his Host talked freely and frankly, but he never mentione¢ the events which had brought him to the island, and Douglass, of course, Gid not broach the eubject. Also he thought of Mary. CHAPTER X. The King Starts for His King- MEM FLIC ten days that elapsed be- fore George returned passed very quickly for Douglass, He constantly found new in- sbowod a versatility of thought and ection which was astonishing, Every- thing seemed to interest him, but his research and experiment never car- , | terest in bis host, who ried him to the realm of impoasi- her lying there. I knew it and th bilities, He wae in' od in, gb- struse problems, but to tinve in trying to square the cirele,, When he tired of his books ‘problems he went to his well- hop ard worked at anything that oo- 0 curred to him, but he did not attempt to construct perpetual motion ma chines, “There is mucn disappointment in ; attempting to solve or understand at Hee beyond the limits of the buman intellect,” he sald to Douglass, “yet those imitations are clearly enough defined. Whorever we find a wide difference of opinion among sav- ants and scholars of all ages we may decide at once that no provable an- swer to the quostion on which they differ has ever been found. “When @ correct explanation of & certain matter, the rotundity of the earth, for example, is offered, we find that it is soon accepted universally. But when we review the question of the secret of existence and find a thousand jarring theories we may be sure no correct golution has ever hven “Then you have no theory of your own on that subject?” “No, I do noi believe it is intended that we should know. If it were the wish of the Creator that I should bo able to grasp the meaning of space and time, it would bave been made clear to me, A limitation has been Placed in every branch of learning and discovery. Up to this. point thousands }.. some rapidly, some haltingly, but they reach a bar at last, from that point all ef- forts are abortive, “In mathematica, for example, we go smoothly along, finding rules and solutions easily, and then bring up roundly at the quadrature of the circle, The more ambitiods ones strive to on, but they accomplish nothing. ‘e atudy anatomy, we dis- sect the body and name all its parts and muscles; we know the functions of the heart, the brain, the blood—all these things ten thousand men learn and agree on, but the ‘teat stu- dent, the greatest scholar, can give 20 explanation of life itself.” ahs vii by much the same thing; I thi the most contorted idea of the sae has been, and is, the fear of death. It is as natural to die as to be born, e fear arises largely from bad education and strained thinking. Properly attuned, man would look forward to dissolution with equa- nimity. 1 do not speak of violent or premature deaths—they are = eous, because unnatural. And after all, the worry and fear of death finds its own fallacy in old age. The nearer man comes to the end of his natural @pan the leas he feara the end. [ believe that often he comes not to abhor it but to feel the need of it.” “That is a consoling view.” “There is a greater and more con- soling one—the plain, sound realiza- tion that it is The birth and d of man aré as natural a @ budding and dropping of a rose. When the false and artiucial fear of death comes to man he has but to say cheerfully, “It's all right; I know it must bo all right.’ To look on death without qualms is natural; to look at it otherwise is morbid, The very nomenclature is bad: ‘the valley of the shadow,’ ‘the Stygian shore,’ ‘the worm and the winding sheet,’ are all terms calculated to convey terror to the unphilosophical mind.” “And how has thie view affected your daughter?” “She is a proof of the theory. No superstitéon, morbidness or fear bas ever touched her. I doubt if she ever thinks about it at all.” “Buppose you were to die, would It not grieve hor greatly?” “That is beside the question; we are not discussing the pain of part- ing from loved ones. If I left her for a year she would weep; if forever, sho would weep still more—it is a matter of degres.” F ‘My question was an unfair one, I admit. I would like to ask yau an- other quesiion, Do you think the world is growing better or worse as it wa older?!’ ‘arrison straightened up from his work and said: “Sir, it ia growing better, slowly but surely. Ite progress is gauged by the development of human intellect. Ono by one the evils are dying out. We can look back a few centuries ‘upon barbaritios and horrors; to-day we find evils, but in @ lesser degree. In centuries to come the ter evils will be remedied until @ fair state of civilization Is reached.” “Do you think the reformers are accomplishing muc iv “They are accompli something, but not in the way they usually in- are educating the masses. 3 and hopes which ‘they of evil are but a dream. To cure tn. herent evils and passions by laws and regulations is impossible. As I said, the development of the intellect alone can bring society to an ideal state. When the reformers point out clearly certain evils they ald in edu- cating their unthinking brethren, and so much good is done. ke the question of undue ac- cumulation of wealth, for instan: all the socialistic laws and schemes will prove inadequate until people learn to look upon the dishonest and avaricious man aa a creature to be shunned, not envied. Reform move- ments are merely evidences, out- croppings of the intellectual advan -they are the visible proofs that are progressing. ‘To consider for an instant that they are the cause of advancement is almply to say ‘the engine drives the steam.’ “You think the time will come when avarice will be considered truly #& vice and the rich miser shunned?" it {9 coming new,” Harrison said, extending his hand end _ pointing across the Inke, “Yonder in tho world pad will find it, in the books, in tho hearts and tongues of a thou- sand wise men. The power of money 4 atill great, but it ts slowly dying. Men will some day know that enough is more wholesome than a feast. [ have no patience, however, with writers and expounders who try inted carpenter ing World Daily Mag —_- to formulate plans for reducing all men to @ dead level. We will always have our millionaires and our pau- pers. We can never set all intellects and all abilities to the same clock. t extremists, however, are legion; they are not content to at- tempt to keep men within their rights—they want to make them con- form to a petty standard of medi- ocrity set by themselves, One would prevent me from accumulating money to gratify my tastes, another would have me eat no meat, yet an- other would bar me from amusin, myself at a pleasant game pla with harmless bits of pasteboard be- causo men misuge cards by gambling with them. The principle in the last case is as if you said to me: ‘The dove is a wicked bird; men wager how far and how fast it can fly.” Mary, who had been on a lone ex- pedition, came tripping yp the beach with her arma filled with flowers, lilies and wild roses. “What are you talking about?” she asked, “We are discussing questions of dy Mary,” Douglass replied, “Reafly! Well, I've decided that you're not to kek father for my hand.” “Indeed! Then I'll make war on you ns soon as my standing army re- turns from clearing the trail.” “Splendid! He can chop down the portetilis and scale the battlements and rescue me from the ogre. Father, you will have to. be the ogre,” she cried, altting on his knee and rum- pling his hear until it hung abou’ bis even. The two men laughed heartily and Harrison said: “Why have you decided not to give Xing Douglass your hand?” first; what have you ever done to earn such a reward?’ she said tc Douglass. “Well, I killed two ducks, and T spilled you out of the boat, Can't we pretend that the two ducks were enemies and that I rescued you from @ watery grave?” She laughed merrily and flung her truant locks back from her eyes. “No, that won't do, even for @& make-believe, thing tremendous. said musing, “the ogre might lock me up and you might come and steal me—I couldn't help it if you stole she snid archly, . Well, I'll leave you te discuss your plans,” Harrison said, rising. “I've got some work to do. I warn you not to steal her, King Douglass; she is _no end of a little shrew.” When he was Re Mary set look- ing smilingly at Dougiass for a time, then she said suddenly: “How old are you?” “Forty.” ‘porty, “Oh, dear!" she sighed thought- fully, and despite the little tug at his heart strings Douglass broke into a ringing laugh. “You're always laughing ft mar ‘ogre,; too. “you fact just ‘Then, ahe cried; “you're an don't believe you're forty; like a big overgrown boy.” stepping quickly behind him, she rumpled ‘his hair as she had her father’s and ran laughing to the cabin ° George returned that night and re- ported the trail clear. “I've found a short cut.” he sald, “There's a creek that you can put into about half way across, I cut & path to it from the main trail.” “How long will it take us to go in?” “One day. If we leave here early we will be at Lost Lake for supper.” Douglass reflected, He war loath to go; he realized that he wanted to be near these people—that he cared more for them both already than he did for any one back there in the world, He was beginning to enjoy life keenly, and he saw that it was partly because he was with congenial people. He was better satisfied with himacif than he had ever been hofore. The selfish grind of his old life did aot anneal to him. ‘As for the whiskey, he had come to realizn that it had no part In bis new existence, Ho wondered if the craving for it would return when he went back to town. He knew ho would go back nome day, but there was no hurry—he would not go until he tired of the woods. He turned to Morrison: “I believe I'll build a cabin on fa must do some gallant deed 7 Nobody's I@land and be neighbors with you for a while,” he said. Mary began clapping her hands as soon as he had uttered the first fow words, and when he finished she cried out joyfully: “Oh, yes, please do, and don't go away for ever so lon “You can easily do that,” Harrison said, with a look of genuine pleasure on his face. “I have a man of all work who can help you. He is in St. Paul now, but I will send him over a8 noon as he returns, which will be in about a week. You will Sst the work hugely, more than I can tel you.”” ‘ell, it’a decides "lh do it.” “You must have a housewarming when you finish your abode,” Harri- son said, “This young mischief and I will come over and help dedicate the place.” ‘As Douglass walked on the beach that evening reflecting on his plans the little forest maiden came quietly beside him, and, slipping her arm through his, walked with him. “I'm so happy,” she sald, smiling up into his face. ‘Wo will enjoy hav- ing you near us so much, father and I" He was touched, and a trifle barrassed, He thrilled a little as he looked down into her benutiful, earnest face, for sho wag less a child than a woman now. “It is really to be near you both that I am scaying,” he said, She Isid her other hand upon his arm and said again that she was happy. hap! Lady “You are alwa; PY. you enjoy everything in the “Yes, I do, 1 do. Father says it is because I am normal and healthy. 1 was never sick a day in my life. to tramp in the woods, to my canoe, to work and to sleep, and, most of T love to talc and eat. Now you're li hing again.” oe © © © © @ Harrison and Douglass and George talked late that night of the plans for the new cabin. Harrison drew sketches and suggested ideas and made a Ist of tools they must bo sure to take from his workroom. HM» grew almost boylah in his enthusl- asm as they progressed, and Douglass entered into the plana with lke spirit, Before they went to bed they had projected schemes and fixtures enough to cover an acre of ground, but that did not detract from the pleasure of the visions. The next morning bri they took their leave. Jo" paddle it and early e man shook hands heartily and talked of their # next meeting. Mary came up to Douglass qujetly and said, “Good-by, I lke you better than any one I ever knew except my father.” Then very simply, very naturally, she came close to him and turned her face up for him to kiss. On the further shore Douglass turned and looked back. The white- haired man was standing with his arm about his daughter's waist, and they both waved their hands to bim as he plunged into the forest. CHAPTER XI. Nobody's Island. (LSON'S description of Lost ] Lake had interested Doug- lage, but it’had not led him to expect too much, His dbservation had led him to believe When fo difficult and costly matter. reading for six cents a week. By subscr! you wi ‘country by the foremost living authors. Bear this in mi Are You Going Away for the Summer? out of town for the summer you may find It Is to provide yourself with the right sort of reading Why send to the city for novels at $1.25 or $1.50 each or buy them at a fancy price in some country store? You can supply yourself with the best, most delightful summer ng to The Evening World for the summer months secure a complete novel each week. Not some old book a dealer has not been able to sell, birt the finest up-to-date fiction , not only for yourself but for any of your friends who expect to spend the summer in the country. that all lakes im this region looked pretty much alike, therefore exag- werated expectations did not mar his firat view of it, ky came upon it in the evening. The canes, winding along the devious course of the rivet, alipped quietly ¥ out upon its placid waters, and Lost Lake and Nobody's Island lay bofore them. The lake was circular in shape and about » mile in diameter, In the oon- tre was a little island, alse circular in form, consisting of about ten acres of ground covered with @ heavy growth of brush afd giant trees, Tee oun was just inking behind the trees as they came twpon the lnke, and its rays, broken by the Gore Siiton "necks vot geld, There jon fice! ol . waa no wind, not a ripple atirred the surface, and the dead sheet of water Was Tike | Greet Gare Reaeoe: O94) T8 “The gilde stopped hie paddle zine, Thursd ay? May a¥ 28, 1914 eee aah ahabababenapabanedll ananes han ano ohascslancn anak ansnanenanenatiananebebenasebanesanensiel solid structure and admired it, then be went inside and admired it; comipg out, he beach and strolled ocareleasly back through the trees to see what the effect waa when it burst sudden: ym the vision. From every point it waa perfection. He felt very sure that there had never been quite as handsome and substantial a log a cabin in the world before, and for they occurred to him, & list of the things he wanted, tools, naila, kitehen utensils, canned goods, end a hundred and one thi ‘and it was decided that George halforeed, once to itewish and fetch them. “Meanwhile I'll exercise my inge- nuity with euch tools aa I have and make some furniture,” Douglass sald. “How soon can you get back?” ‘Three days,” Mac answered, “if George he can go throurh the trails ae fant as I can and carry as big @ Paideorse he ¢an go faster than you The hait-breed read the scrawl with 8 ourprise that left no li doubt Nee ant eens te hte tener anCWhat do" you, make of it?" the half-breed aeked, handing it it oA vf looked at him quickly. “You ‘Of course not, 4 trust you to the fed and began knew that he was me mental ground traversed #0 care- mal t Kaufman, nor Wilson, jor Man” e was with me every inindte, and Bo ain't’ tat kind. He likes you and he's atraight. You can ® man pretty well on three days of trails, I can't think of any one but that Wilson “But if he wanted to injure me he wouldn't givo me warning; be could 11 mo from the trees and no one the wiser, The writer of thi Nm pt its me to it wy enc heartily. that he threat= they left the river, and they now ii ean and carry igger pack,” that wants that so heartily, . motionless af yards from the individual modestly responded, and ens to kil eS ale shore. The whole scene was to Dowg- Mac grinned expanstvely. ‘Are you going ere dame Lae erate ty ete abted bee a A sit be aie 1a had my peck fnltely peeche bad oft. town CHAPTER Xil. ready to leave whon I got this note, jence is to the m: A Warnin I'd have begun pulling the ropes off. porienced It. We ig ni thought e0.° George said quietly, of the town, FORGE and Mac set out at ine. my ee a, with you, and 1’ that we know what silence b ° Gaybreak of the fifteenth \ Dougiass extended his hand with- ertent Geo Is 0,00 day on Nobody's Talend. gut A word. It the blood of this cannot distinguich Dougiass felt a little lone- rat Bese was predominant, 1m po we cannot tel parca let it once stop and its sence would be keenly percept! geemed to Douglass ba eal ighty world noiselrsal thought was dim, incompreh born not of words, nor of I » sense of self- egation he had never known be- fore, he quietly, unconsciously bared bis head. ‘The spell lasted but a moment. A tiny allver fish leaped a ahry near the canoe, and, as if that little splash were the signal.to return to earth, Douglass sighed, and George drove paddle into the water. ey reached tho Island just as a was fallin Douglass could scarcely walt for daylight to examine hia domain, but was forced to content himeelf sitting in the little tent with George, making plans for the mor- row. At daybreak they were atirring. id sawe were laid out, a 8! for cabin was selected, measure ments were made, and with a will they set about clearing the space. Douglass had decided to cut away gradually the trees and brush till nothing was left but a wall of verdure about the edges of the island. This would give him a circular park fenced around with the natural wood- land growth. Tho larger trees they cut would serve for the cabin, the brushwood they would burg when the clearing should be large enough ta make it safe to do #0. Following Harrison's advice, he gavo himaelf no concern about the furnishing as yet, except to keep ao list of things that would be needed, as they occurred to him. ‘The plans roughly formulated, they set to work, Douglass had made up his mind to have a part tn all that was accomplished, and he swung his axe Yleotouaty careless of his bilater- ing hands. sraller tress they, chopped down, the larger ones were felled, with the two-handed saw they had brought in from Harrison's. Douglass tugged and perspired at this instrument of torture until his back ached and his arms grew numb, But ench day's work waa easier than the day preceding, and now and then in the arent he rolled back his shirt sleeves and fingered tho grow- ing and hardening muscles of his arms with satisfaction. In a fow days his hands ceased to bilater and his back to ache, While he worked he sang. It Ld not @ very good song, nor was it very well sung, it wns a song, never- theless, the ly one that memory had retained from his impoverished youth, The half-breed goon caught the refrain, and as they bellowed it lustily together they kept time with the atrokes of tl § The pile of notched logs grow dally, and the space in the centre of the inland «radually widened, In ten days stimate and decided jough logs for a two- Then they began “hew- it," shaping the logs flat for tho This proved a tedioun job; making boards in & primitive way la a slow operation. There is nothing so precious nor #0 ree in the woode as a board. The task completed, they lald and propped their floors on the solid trunks which they had sawed to equal heights on the cabin site, and waited the advent of Harrison's half,breed, for they would need three men for the “rolling up.” He came the next day, and the walls beean slowly rising, In two dave the walls were up, and next the roof logs were rolled into place and the heavy work was over. It only ramainnd to make the doors and window fire- place, then thatch the soot the cahin would be complete, Dougiaan walked aroun@the clean, NEXT. WEEK’S COMPLETE NOVEL <= IN THE EVENING WORLD => js % ev vict 4 some at first, but he knew the cure—he must keep busy. ‘Tho first day of their absence he constructed a four-post bedatead of straight, clean saplings, heaped it with balsam boughs and slept on it . that night, The next day he made two chaits and hewed out logs for table. The work progressed rapidly and well, and he admired his pro- ductions as much as he had admired the cabin, He did not get very lonesome, for his tasks occupied his mind, and at night he was too tired to do any- thing but sleep. Nevertheless, he know that If it were not for his work he would grow discontented in an hour, and even when he Was fully occupied be knew that thi eee ot @ companion, if only © balf-breed, was a great boon, ‘There never yet was &@ man so self- sufficlent, or so crabbed, that he did mot feel the need of at leust one companion, Two men might live on @ desert isinnd and be bitter enemies, and go about their tasks in silence, but take une away and other ‘would be very lozesome. On the morning of the third day, when Douglass awoke, his first thought was that he was glad bis men would be back that evening. When he had dressed he threw open his door and stood for u minute fill- ing his lungs with the cloan, pine- for breakfast, and back into the cabin to get ines. As ho did hia eyo fell ate; his vee something lying on tho door- oll It way a white envelope with the superacription upward. He at stupidly at it. How in the world had it come there? For a long time ke stood looking at it like Robinaon Crus goe at tho footprint In the sand, Then he picked it up. It wae a dressed to him in » scrawiing, hal printed hand. He turned it over and looked at the back, as if to gain some intelli- gence from that. Then it occurred to him that perhaps George had re- turned and left it there; but no, there was only one canoe on the beach, the one thoy had left for him. At length he tore it open, and on the alngie shoct of paper it contained, in ine @ame hand es the address, he read: "You're not wanted here. If you are in the Manitowish Waters one week from to-day, you will never leave them alive, This’ means busi- ness.” He stared at the message In blank surprine, for there waa no atghature It was @ thunderbolt frem a olear aky. He sat down to think the mat- ter ov imly. Th ome one had visited him in the night and thrust the letter under the door was @ certainty. Who was it?) He went over each acquaintance he had made since hia arrival State Line, Kaufman was out of the question; Wilson had reason for @in- like, but this letter ahowed a plain desire on the part of the writer not to injure him but to drive him from tho place. If Wilson harbored resentment this would not be the natural way to show it, It could not be a joke or test from Harrison or his daughter— they were not that sort; George, he knew he could trust, and George could account for Mac. He turned and twisted the problem hundred ‘ways, but could find no aolutton. Then he went out a examined the island carefully--no one there; he could find no el: ia nocturnal visitor, Returning @ cabin, he sat down and read the message again. “It's no joke,” he naid; “people don't make trips at night to such spote as this for w Joke. What the devil doom it mean?” He thought perhaps George could throw gome light on it and decided to lay the matter before him on his re- turn, Then he kept it from his mind as beat he could and went about his work, The two men returned just at night- fall; they opened the packs and soon all three were busy examining the contents. The pleasure of the opera- tion was marred for Douglass by the matter on his mind, and George looked at him curiously once or twice, shrewdly detecting a change la his manner. Douglass said nothing until they had had supper, and Mac had retired to the tent where the men atill slept. George was preparing to do the same when Dougtana called him, and tak- ing the lantern from tte hook handed it and the letter to him, briefly detail- Ing the ineident of finding It decided that he would P thought, there must be some mighty good traits about tho Indian. CHAPTER XIII. The Spring Gun. ITH a philosophical aptrit whieh had alwaya atood anim in good stead, Doug- laas decided to make no change In hia daily routine because of the warning he had re- colved. id He argued correctly that the dan- ger, if any existed, would not appear until the expiration of the time set for his departure, There was ob- viously no solution of the matter to be had, and he cautioned George to make no mention of the letter to Mac, He did not care to have the story go abroad; it might come to nothing, and if so he would not have ft ap- pear that he had been greatly dis- turbed, fo they went on with thelr work, and goon the interior of the cabin be gan to assume an air of complet neas, Mac left them when the heavy work, was done, but returned within a day or two with a load of iy and papers, a gift from Harrison, He reported that Mary had asked @ great many questiona, and had been par- ticularly anxious to know when the projected housewarming was to take ace, Dougings sent her @ grandiloquent scroll, done on birch bark, with th great seal of Nobody’s Island in the former, Informing her that his court y would’ be ready to do her honor two weeks. His real reason for laying the invitation was to see what would come of his strango warning, The seven days within which was to jeave the Island oc went. Tho last day wan a trying ons to say that he passed it without worry would be @ ridiculous state ment. A man who can face danger without fear is usually a fool; the man who does not know what fear is deserves no credit for his bravery. ‘To be brave is to recognize danger and face it with determination and calmness, and Douglass faced the trying period bravely. nm the seventh day had passed he breathed easier, On the eighth day he beran to laugh at his fears. “It was either a hoax or e bluff,” he said to George. George made no reply—hie state of mind was not ap easy, ani le he kept his own counsel, he was greatly perturbed, for, unknown to Do! the seventh iy Sree te eened tn tale wise! jeath. It in ne On the night of the seventh day, after the receipt of that mysterious misnive, George, sleeping in his tent, was awakened about midnight by a thunder shower. He remem it he had left his coat in the canoe, and rising, went to the beach to fetch it. t Aw he returned toward the cabin, a flash of lightning threw a faint light on the door, and before it he saw something that made him stop short, amazed, Tt was a rifle, set on two forked twigs, pointing straight to the door. He know at once what it meant, and, walking carefully and Lge 4 to the spot, he felt cautiously for the ham- mer and lowered it. Then running his finger along the trigger guard slipped off the twine which he ki would be there, ond feeling his wa: followed, It to the door hasp. detached the string, laid the ri the ground and pulled up ita two su ports, Then, with his bare toes, obliterated the holes where t! pointed sticks had been pushed into the ground. ‘Then he returned to his tent, put the whole paraphernalia un- der his mattress, and lay down to think. There the not © question now but that nt business, The rifle he would breast. George was a heavy sleoper, and almost invariably was awakened by Douglass, who rose at di plunge in the lake. But fo: dential shower, and George's trip for his coat, Douglass would certainly have been shot. The half-breed saw at once that they were watched; that whoaver had p the gun there had been aware of this early rising habit of Douglas: George slept no more that night, but lay turning the matter over in his inind, and debating what was best to It was clear that whoever this would-be «sgassin was he must have been hiding In the woods and watch- ing them. After long consideration a rats ee === WOULD YOU RISK UNSEEN PERIL AND ALMOST CERTAIN DEATH BY IMPERSONATING SOME ONE ELSE FOR THREE WEEKS IN RETURN FOR $50,000? THAT IS THE PROBLEM IN === Spa IN ANOTHER MAN’S SHOES * | The Book on the Stands Will Cost 2 |—==== You Get It for @ Ce n remains unchanged, forming a room’ tears a canoe on the lake. that the visiting oande up the river or been vig at some point. He was about sult; we' pany next wee! Pet he hall pines wit! fot shallow pe in eiay bottom. against a tree, ful the cabin, he sald to 6 had accomplished @ great deal in month. Here was @ place tion, a good substantial nished with all the where, four weeks before, oon bs been but dense wood and brush. He sat down and figured coat—George's work, Mac's work, the things that had been purchesed @& $200, “He Manitowish—all less than laughed as he footed w &@ great improvement, and approved of that change, he introspective. mental effect? the harder hape which le. the gun under the pounding on the Goon’ ealiea to Douglans that he deer; then out to look for fi went tothe a Ble own ri nd venison 're going to have com- 1k too.” jeorge paddied away. He Re that if Douglass knew lowly around the lake; examining of the shore, every took him unt hav the water and lifted the without leaving an; the bank. viai Fj led ttom for shall 8 Se the He tied his own cance to a and went quic! tion the footprints thro: the ground that the canoe could have been carried far. He soon found it resting on one end He examined it care~ clue there. Then he took out ties of life, the total could live here « long at Hruce had left him. A lan't so great a necessity after ‘Then his mind wandered his old lit it would be before he returned to He thought of the halt-sick, ent way day, mistaking apathy for and tactturnity for thought. i | pita stood up stralgne and filled | is chest. ; he wondered how he had gone throug! j Then he bared (~] ; What had been (To Bo Continusd.) You $1.25 ‘ —— al |