The evening world. Newspaper, October 21, 1915, Page 15

_—- GOD'S COUNTRY--- AND THE WOMAN | Remance of e Man in the Frozen North | By JAMES OLIVER CUR The M ende Author of “RARAN.” Sere ee ee reo OF rOree OW PREY iF of bie Wewren aemaiiont Se tem Sing cho some mnlive lela Some Saiewhers as she siahe geome Sommpaniod ty 6 beokigunnd od hage dogs CHAPTER X1. (Comtiwued B shivered af be measured the pent-up power, the 4 @tructive possibilities of the whining, snapping, living sea of sinew and fang ahead of thom. An‘ they were Jowephine’s. ‘They were ber slaves, What need had Mee of bie protection? What account Would be the insignificant autcnatic Bie side in the face of this wild that awaited only a word from ‘What could there be in these that she feared, with them at eommand? Ten men with rifles epaid not have stood in the face of thetr first mad rush—and yet she had told him that everything depended upon his protection, He-had thought that meant physical protection. But it could not be. He spoke his thoughts aloud, pointing to the dogs “What danger can there be In thie world that you need fear—with them?” he asked, “I don’t under- stand. I can't guess.” @ @he knew what he meant. The band on his arm pressed a little closer to him. “Please don't try to understand,” she answered in a low voice. “They would fight for tear a wolf-paci called them back from the wind-run deer, so that not j * @ hair of ber was barmed. “Bee, there comes Metoosin with the J frozen fish! “I want you to throw them the fish, Philip,” said Josephine, “Their brains comprehend the hand that feeds them. It is a sort of pledge of friendship detweeryou and them.” ‘With Metoosin she drew a doxen r back, and Philip found that he had become the centre of inter for the pack, One by one he pulled out the fish. Snapping jaws met the frozen feast in midair. There was no fighting—no vengeful jealousy of 01 and yellow already in ir Wi u . manded him sharply, and at the sound of bis name he slunk back. Ope by one Philip threw out the fish until they were all gone. Then he stood and looked down upon the flat-bellied k, Mstening to the crunching of Bones and frozen flesh, and Josephine came and stood beside him again @uddenly he felt her start. He jpoked ‘up, and saw that her face was down the vee He hi rf jught quick change in her ey: tenstnces that flashed for an instant in mouth. The vivid color tn her paled. She looked eon her for t! short epace door in Mirlam's room.) He the direction of her eyes. 4 earn Tere away two figures were ing toward them. ni her father, the master of Ada: { Xe2 Se ate arc was Miriam bie wif | this wife passed as quickly asithadcome. When Philip looked et her again she was waving @ Band and omiling. Adare’s voice eame booming upthetrail. He saw Miriem laughing. Yet in spite of him- self-—even as Se. returned Adare's could not keep himself looking at the two women with emotions. had turned with @ sudden to the feasti CHAPTER XII. HE atrange effect upon Josephine of the unexpected appearance of Adare and by She was mo her father. He noted that the color not returned fully into her cheeks, while the flush in Mir) face had deepened, There thing forced in Josephine's .note that was unreal and mak eve, as she turned to Phijip. “Isn't my mother wonderful, Philip? J call her Mikawe because that means more than Mother in Creo—something that is almost undying and. spirit- like, You will never grow old, my little mother! How long do you sup- pose she und my father have been married?” sho asked Philip. fe could not guess, and she made answer: | “Twenty-two years ago—a month ‘om to-day a ry oger as if she had spoken the words that Philip might catch their hidden meaning. Adare straightened with a sudden dea. “On that da shall have a great anniversary fe he declared, “We will ask every soul-red and white— for a hundred miles about, with the exception of the rogues over at tho- tedu's. Place! What do you say, Philip?” “Splendid!” cried Philip, catching triumphantly at this straw in the face af Josephine’s»plans for him. He looked straight into her eyes as he spoke. “A month from to-day these forests sball ring with our joy. Aad there will be @ reason for \t-—more ‘than one!” She could not understand that! And Philtp's heart beat joyously as Josephine turned quickly to her mother, the color flooding to the tips } of her ears. ‘ ' The dogs had eaten their fish and ‘were crowding about them, For the ‘fret time Adare seemed to notice Me- toosin, who had stood motionless ‘twenty paces behind them. ere is Jean?" he asked, a * josephine shook her head, The Evening World Daily Magazine, Thursday, Octo a a a 1 havent seen fim ime test) i] nigh 1 had clmont forgotion what I he ‘4 im | re 5 the forest. Me may be away al! day MP sew the anxious jook that | t into Jemephine’s eyes. She 4 at tim closely, questioninaty, | gueneed that beyond what he she wanted bim to remain | silent. A little Inter, when Adare and hie wife were walking ahead of them, | me ahe asked ‘Where te Jean? What did he tell you leet alight? PRilip remembered Jean's warning "1 cannot tell ye he reptied| evesively, “Perhaps fone out to Proennoiire for gan “You are true.” she breathed soft. guess | understand, Jean! w, Hut after I went to bed I Iay a long time and thought of you-out in the night with that gun in your hand. 1 can't) believe that you were there simply because of @ nol s you maid, A man like you doesn’t hunt for a noise) with @ platol, Philip, What is the matter with your arm? The directness of her question startled him ‘Why do you ask that?” he man- 4 to stammer ‘You have flinched twice when I touched it—this arm.” “A tri he assured her, “Tt whould have jod by this time” She smiled atraight up into his even “You are too true to tell me fairy stories In a way that I must believe them, Philip, Day before yesterday your sleeves were up when you were paddling, and there was nothing wrong with this arm—this forearm— then, But I'm not going to question you. You don't want me to know.” In the same breath she recalled his attention to her father and moth “I told you they were lovers! Look!” As if she had been a liftie child John Adare had taken his wife up in Die arms and sat her high on the trunk of @ fallen tree that was etl! held four or five feet above the ground by « crippied spruce, Philip heard him laugh, He saw the wife lean over, still clinging for safety to her husband's shoulders. “Tt is beautiful,” he eatd. Josephine spoke as if she had not heatd him. “I do not believe there ts another man in the world quite like my father. I eannot understand how a woman could cease to love such a man as he even for a day—an hour. Bhe couldn't forget—could she?” something almost plain- tion, As if she feared an answer, she went on quickly: “He has made her happy. She is almost forty—thirty-nine her last . Bhe does not look that old. been happy. Only happiness keeps one young. And he is fifty. If it wasn't for his beard, I believe he would appear ten years younger. I have never known him without a beard; I like him that way. It makes him look ‘beasty'—and I love beasts.” Bhe ran ahead of him, and John Adare lifted his wife down from the tree when they joined them, This time Josephine took her mother’s arm. At the door to Adare House she turned to the two men, and said: “Mother and I have a great deal to talk over, and we are scheming not to see you again until dinner time. Lit- tle Daddy, you can go to your foxes. And please keep Philip out of mis- chief” It was almost noon when Adare gent word by Metoosin asking Philip to rejoin him in the big room, A lit- tle later Josephi.e and her mother came in. Again Philip noticed that in the face of Adare's wite was that ‘ange look whi he had first ob- served in her room. The color of the morning had faded from her cheeks. The glow in her eyes was gone, Adare chee g the change, and spoke to her tenderly. Miriam and Josephine went ahead of them to the dining room, and with bis hand on Philip's arm John Adare whispered: aoeaetimes 1 am afraid, Philip, She changes so auddenl, This morning ber cheeks and lips were r er eyes were bright, she laughed—she was tho old Miriam. And now!.Can you tell me what It means? Is it some ter- rible malady which the doctors could not find?” “No, it ie not that,” Paine felt his heart beat a little faster. Josephine Dad fallen @ step behind her mother. She had heard Adare’s words, and at Philip she flung back a swift, fright- ened look, “It is mot that.” he re- ted, ‘Bee how much better she fox to-day than yesterday! You takerstand, Mon Pére, that often. there comes a period of ner- ickness that is not tim vousness—of a i winter will build her up.” ‘The dinner passed too swiftly for Philip. ‘They sat at a long table, and Josephine was opposite him. For @ th he forgot the strain he was under, that he waé playing a part in which he must uot strike a single false key. in another way he wi Jad when it came to an end, for if gave him an opportunity of speaking a few words with Josephine. Adare iriam went out ahead of them, At the door Philip held Jose- ine back, Prtou are not gol: to leave me alone this afternoon ed. “LL ts not quite fair, or Jos phine, Tam travelling on thin fee, I"——— doing splendidly, Philip,’ pI ed," jorrow I will rent, Metoosin says there is a Iit- half-breed girl very sick ten miles back in the forest, and you may fo with me to visit her, There are rea- wone wiry T mothor all of to-day. She has bh a long journey and is worn out and nervous, Perhaps she will not want to appear at supper. If thie ie so, I will remain . But we will be together ¢ All day. Is that not re and his wife. ip Metoosin with the sul ed. “I want you good friends—you and my A little later, as Philip sat alone in his room, some ono staggered in, shutting the door behind him, He knew that it wi yet who stood before him. But it did not look like Jean. The half-breed's cap was gone. He was ing, clutch- ow ing at the partl door to sup- port himeokt, His was disfigured ¢o tell of . ae with blood, the front of his coat was spattered with frozen clots of it. His long hair Wad fallen in ropelike strand, er his eyes and frozen t lips were terrible, “The hal jood Lord!" gasped Philip. softly, He sprang foward and caught Jean that she must arrange to And if you care for that Jean's body hung a weight in bit of hope I have shown you, let it rms. His legs gave way under happen without the knowledge of the a From this hour his ‘fingers on Philip's shoulder was Jean Jacques Crolaset sacrifices his Make haste, M’sieur—and use as the half-breed staggered to: 4 in an hour, him. his him, but for a moment the clutch of master of viselike, soul. *A little help, M’sieur,” he gasped. caution!” “IT am faint, sick. Whatever hap- ens, a5 you love Our Lady, let no one out into th now of this to-night!” dropped upon Philip's arm. with her. CHAPTER XIII. CARCELY had Jean uttered the few words that preceded the farther end of the hall. Heavy paysive footsteps followed the voice. Impulse guarding, tion. He lowered Jean to the floor, sprang to the partly open door, cloged her dogs. it and softly locked it. He was not & moment too soon, A steps tapped on more and Adare was beating on the panel with hie flat. “What, ho!” he cried in his booming voice. “Josephine wants to know if you have forgotten her Adare's hand was on the lateh, gies for me, Mon Pere, I will finish Ty bath in a hurry!" Pau Adare moved away oor, A brief examination "%y; from the wound from which th flowed down over his fa He breathed easier when ered nothing beyond this. minutes he had him parti 4 on his bed. Jean opened his eyes held bim buck. “Not yet, Jean, Jean's glance ” he said. hifted in a look of ur,” he insisted. ‘It ‘sieur.’ hundred yards that made i And there is no time to lose. I must “We will not be interrupted,” Philip breed said: gerured him. “Is this your only hurt, lean?" "That alone, M’sleur. It was not bad until an hour ago. Then it broke cut afresh, and made me so dizsy that with my last breath I stumbled into your room, The saints be praised that I managed to reach you!" Philip left him, to return in a mo- ment with a flask. Jean had pulled Ripieey to Spins posture on the ‘8 a drop of whisky, Jaan, It will stir up your blood, What is the matter?” ‘The great God alone can ans’ that,” replied Jean in a strange voice. “Perhaps it will mean that to-morrow, or the next day, or the day after that M’sleur Weyman will know the secret we are keeping from him now, and will fight shoulder to shoulder with Jean Jacques Croisset in a fight that the wilderness will re- member $6 Le as there are tongues i “And until ther I must wait?" “Yes, you must walt, He moved to thé door and Quietly he opened it, and loo! Without a yore Philip Teel, quiet); closed and loc! it] With a rattling breath his head Philip found Josephine and returned It was not the old Jean that had re- turned this night, the Jean with his my! seemed to link him with RY age-old past, Out of that spirit had risen a his lapse into unconscious- new sort of man—the fighting man. ness than Philip heard the Ha ps8 sees oe fire in Jean's eyes * and face; he caught new meaning laughing voice of Adare at Wan Was ue anaes ee Joan—waitng, fusrolng, ee ee soreat mente: ther th n urge . thing had happened to rouse in him rather than reason urged him into ac- (HA RAG RADpened to roniee would set flaming in the savage breasts of io his words. They came to his door and he was opened. Josephiti as she darted in, n—you have somethin she whispered, in her face. no jongér hiding “You must see M'selle,” turning to Philip. “IL am—undressed,” explained Philip can arrange for . desperately. “Offer a thousand apolo- = 7 wij) be ne in & moment, , hastily beginning to put on jer garments. mh y He dropped his knees beside Jean sickness—in & woman's life, The Py yy da th le Jean Jean. It will not do to be interrupt showed him where Croisset was hurt, to thee pe wen Ma Ay Je ‘softly. Jean The half-breed had received & scalp turned’ to the window. “You—your faith in me is beauti- atetully, ao low that © ful,” she said only he could serve it, Philip.” For a moment he préssed her hand, he bathed the blood from hia face, M8 face telling her more than he He made an effort to rise, but Philip could trust his lips to » ma bim bu rise, but Philip Foard him turn the key in the lock, it it would be better r you to go out by the window, and he turned "I have thou “You are right,” agreed Philip, re- window. As Philip get into my room—linto other clothes!" dropped himself outside the half- I am better now, locking the door. Jean raised Chambers, Mat Sh ter, equal celebrity, “Go no farther than the edge of the forest, M'sieur. We will tarn the ght low and draw the curtain. When the curtain is raised again return to as quickly ds youcan. Remem- ber, M'sieur—and go no farther than the edge of the forest.” Philip obeyed. A little later, at Jean's signal, he returned to the room. Jean was awaiting him--alone. “It is partly my fault that she 1 not here, M’steur,” he ined. would have told you nothing of w' has passed between jot @s much, perhaps, ae I, She see you In the morning.” “And there's little consolation at the present moment in that,” gritted Philip, with clenched hands. “Jean —I'm ready to fight now! I feel as a rat must feel when it's cornered. I've got to ome, pretty soon—Iin some Cie ped ‘bust. It's impos- ‘sible"——- Jean's hand fell softly upon his a “M’sleur, you would cut off this right arm If it would give you Joseph- ine?” rain eut off my head!" exploded ‘lip. ‘Do you remember that it a few hours ago that I said a never be yours in this world?” Crois- set reminded him, in the game quiet voice. “And now, when even I eay there ie hope, can you not make me havé the confidence in you that [ must have—if we win?” Philip's face relaxed, In silence he sripped Jean's hand. “And what Iam going to tell you a thing which Josephine would not say if she were he is thie, M’sieur,” went on Jean, “Before you left us alone in this room I had a doubt. Now I have none. The great Sept is com~ din that fight all the spirits munito must be with us. You will have fighting enough. And it will be such fighting as you will remem- ber to the end of your days. But until the last word {fe eaid—uatil the last hour, you must be as you have been. I repeat that. Have you faith oush in me to believe?” “Yes, I believe,” eaid hs “tt ee inconceivable, Jean—but I be- eve.” Jean moved to th “Good-night,” M “Good-night, J For a few moments after Croiaset had left him Philip stood motionless. Then, aimlessly, his brain awhirl, he strolled out into the forest, Presently, 4 gi¢am of light caught bi mm. At & camp fire sat Jean and Josephine. With them was a strange man. In the fire-shadows he could not make out distinctly the features of the unknown man. He was not dressed like of Ki ARE YOU ONE OF THE MANY THOUSAND PEOPLE WHO ARE READING THE EVENING WORLD’S Complete Novel Each Week? If not, you are rebbing yourself ef the richest fiction treat ever offered to the readere of a newspaper, The Evening World, every week, printe a novel by some famous author. These novels are lesued complete in six They are eclocted with a view to eulting the tastes of all readers. And the tremendous success of the plan has long been In The Evening Werld’s “COMPLETE NOVEL EACH WEEK” serioe le the foremost work of such “best-esfler” authors as Robert W. x Denerte Rinehart, Rupert Hughes, James Oliver Cur- Widdemer, daily instalments. demonstrated. George Randolph Chee- bertson, Meargeret " h Vanes, Edgar Rice Burroughs and many others 0 he di the others, He beardiess. Beyond thes could make out nethi three drew close together, and only would ha d then did he catch the low would have made him suspicious of Not once did he something —and he knows nothing, 9 no’ murmur of a voice, hear Jean, For crouched motionless, 18 of gloom whe! en. eyes from the strange tableau to the spol je others were hi te Churchit! doctor teft oith me \trigttened at fret fut fm net now Motier and | will beve hie out of the fever shortly ~ Theat dey wae one of gloom in Adare Houne The baby's fever grew eieadily even Pwiil tpt, Juet risen from le ahair. iviam came through the door wan ewaying, her bande react that orumbies fr epreng to meet ber, o etrenge cry and Phtiip a Hep be beard her moan ae he rushed past t inte the bell he knew that ehe bad fallen (loting into her busband’s arma 1p (he doorway to Josephine’s room he paused. Bhe was there, kneeling beside the tittle cradle, and her face | as phe lifted it to him was toariess, but fied with a grief t the quick of bie soul, He did not need to look at the eradie as she rose umeteadiiy, Pope] @ hand at her boart, ae if to keep It from breaking [He knew what he would soe And now he went to her and drew her close in bis strong arms, whispert | the pent-up passion of the things tha © in bis heart, until at last her about his neck, and she sobbed on Hotre later it was over the little grave, and said wonte deep and strong. a Capi’ yg Md emotion, and it wae Jean and sin who lowered the tiny casket into the froren earth. Miriam was not there, but Josephine clung to M’bilip's wide, and only onee her vol break in the grief he was Orhung over During the rest of that day Philip saw but little of Josephine, and he made no effort to intrude hi upon her. Late in the afternoon Jean asked him if he had made friends with the 4 and Philip told him of hi experience with them. Not until o'clock that night did he know why the half-breed At that hour jare House had sunk into quiet, Miriam and her hue- band had gone to bed, the lights were low. M4 an hour ya ‘ae Hetenes og the footatepa w! ie ow woul At last he knew that The steps stopped at his own a knock--and a moment later he was standing face to face with Crolaset. “Throw on your coat and cap and come with me, M'sieur,” he cried in o low voice. nd bring your pistol!” ‘Without a word Philip obeyed. By the time they stood out in the on! ber 21, 1918 rt wr THE FREEBOOTER i i i i i i i Philip waited, After a Jean said, ae quietly es if he oDe ves, bnew rm we mt replied Banttip. Hie to Jaat ni “1 have gusesed,” face was white and hard. Joan nodded, “I think you have ly, M’sieur, It was the And then, in amazement, he at Philip, For the off hi His loca’ wae racing ine wild en. fy ticipation. Josephine had disap- ed. Jean gripped his arm. pear “To-night something may happen,” ‘o- nig Ren cited wore knickerbockers he said, in a voice t was as and high laced boots. His face was and cold the blue Hgehts of the urora in the polar sky. t 1e—pos- ible, We may need your hi asked Metoosin, but it ‘You have made friends with the dogs? ¥qu, kng ptain?” Ral’ them—go as fast as you can, M’sleur, And if you hear a Then, suddenly, Josephine sprang shot to-night—or a loud ory from out back from her companions, Jean there in the forest, free the dogs went to hi paused, and he could eee that The o' tense and waiting. plied, His words must ha for it seemed he could Then he followed. CHAPTER XIV. @ide. He could hear her swiftly, Captain fi and run with them to our trail, shouting ‘Kill! Kill!’ with every breath you take, and don't stop #0 long as there is a footprint in the snow ahead of you or a human bone to pick! Do you understand, M’sieur?” yes were points of flame in been brief, arcely have the gloom. spoken when Josephine turned her back upon him and walked quickly out Y into the forest. For another moment Jean” Joan Crolsset stood close to the other, Do you understand?” gasped = Philip. “But— If you understand—that is all,” interrupted Jean, f there is a peril in w we are doing this night the pack wijl be worth more to us than INSEEN, Philip ret to & dozen men, If anything bapbene Adare House. He his room and at last to sleep. It was daylight when he awoke, He expected to eat alone with Adare again this morning, and to ua-they will be our av . Gol nt tO There is not one moment for you to OF: Tis voice, the glitter in hie eyes told Philip this was no time for words, He turned and ran swiftly his heart across the clearing in the direction jumped with both eurprise and joy of the dog pit. Ten minutes later he when Josephine came out into the came into & gloom warm, with hail to meet him. She was very pale. 4 he had passed rliny & sleepless night. But she wes amil- Her eyes told him tha Eyes of fire glared ft fangs and t greet ne by one he called the ing bravely, and when she offered Names of the dogs he remembered: him her hand he caught her suddenly © led them over and over again, ad- in his arme and held her close to bis Yicing fearlessly among them, until brea then her shining hair. “Philip!” she protested. He laughed softly, and ment his face was close against hers. “My brave ifttle darling! I under- stand,” he whispered. “I know what 4 night you've had. But there's noth- ‘0 fear. Nothing ehall Whi he kissed her Mps and é dropped upon his knees with his hand on the chain that held Captain. ”" o ed to them, and Philip"— Sa for § pe- fell _silent—listening, He Every excitement and a st rm you, band that rested on 1 Nothing shall harm you, nothing, trembled. In the di nothing!" hooted, and the first note of it sent “Philip, the baby is sicky-and Lam red-hot fire through him. Still afraid, I haven't told father, Come!" further away a wolf howled. Then He went with her to the room at the came a silence in which he thought end of the hall. The Indian woman he could hear the rush of’ blood wae crooning softly over & oradle. She fell silent as Josephine and Philip own throbbing veins gnigred. and they bent over the little on Captain's collar, he waited, ushed sony on the pillow. io ase” came tighily, ingly, and Joseph. ine clutched tikp's Nand. and her CHAPTER XV. voice broke in @ sob, “Feel, Philip-ite Iittle face--the fever" —— “You must call your mother and father,” he said after a moment. “Why N the course of nearly every human life there comes an hour which stands out above all others as long as memory haven't you done this before Joseph- lasts, Buch was the one in ine?" “The fever came on suddenly—within the last half hour,” he whieh Philip crouched in the dog pit, Whispered bis hand at Captain's collar, waiting tensely. “And I wanted you to tell me for the sound of ery or shot what to de. Philip. Shall 1 call them now H e “y, In an instant she was room. A few moments later she re- returned, followed by Adare and bis wife Paliip was startled by the look Sephine and the nto Miriam's face as she reached lant night's meeting-place. He that came fell on her knees beside She was ghastly white. Dumbly Adare Minutes passed. The owl hooted nearer; the wolf howled again, far- ther away. Slowly the tremendous out of the strain passed and Philip began to breathe easier, He figured that Jo- haif-breed had the cradle had given them a margin of at least Stood ant gazed down on the fittle “v6 minutes—and nothing had hap- human mite he had grown And then there came through Kis he rose to hi t beard a great broken breath that was Toe te: is 498 half @ sob. Jopephine laid her cheek arm for a moment, and sa‘ “You ari Phittp ld pering sounds fo to to worship, pened, His knees were cramped, and still holding Cap- tain's chain, The tension was broken against his among the beasts, They moved; whim- CH came to him; eyes breakfast, shifted uneasily in the gloom. t \ the camp—and you poy Toe understand th! far; Msleurt ae Yes, Go on.” lose, Remember—a shot—« single 4, ing north. Rut tl ery After the iette andi it me the news Tai thet waterw: few aye behind ihe iota ak anaes are with us. And after “T must tell you about him or roo will not understand,” he went ‘on, and there was effort in his now, “The man whose face you was my brother. Ab, rs start! You understand now why I was failed to kill him, ie wae that could be bad, M'sieur, but le thicker than water, and up one does not ives those early ry when childhood knows no sin, Al my brother came up from the south as canoe-man for the man I want to kill! A few bours before you saw his faee at the window I met him ta the forest. He promised to leave. Then came the shoh-508 under~ stood. ¢ man T was going nu had sent him to pre ihe master of Adare. That ts why T fot- lowed his trail that night. I knew I would find the man I wanted not far away” ae you found him?” not worth the qui reupine's back if he remained in lie couniry, T made Bim beiievenut was another who fought him in: the forest, He fled. I am of that, He will never come Then T followed over the trail he had made to Adare House, and far back Im the swamp T came upon them, waiting for him. 1p, myself off as my brother, and I tricked the man T was after. . ta distance from the camp—alone—and I was choktn) life from him, when the two others that were with him came upon us. He was dying, m'sieur! He was black in the face, and his tongue was out. Another second—two or three at t most-—and T would have brought rut ery soul at Adare House. Por dying. And if I had kiMed 1 would have been lost! ‘