The evening world. Newspaper, May 15, 1916, Page 15

Left to (Copyright, the Frank A, ‘Munsey Ge.) CHAPTER I. Perish. ERTON BOYD loosened his belt.and experienced the first sensation M LN bled and dragged his fect as Five minutes after he had sit, ectousty. s@ * the prévious morning. J cat for forty-eight hours, and he had ‘the cold. The sun was within an hour of setting when he struck a trail. few yards he walked on. Then the smoother going, by contrast with the ’ rocks and bogs and windfalls and thick brush yf the ndlcgs hours behind ) tim, brought eudden realization that here was ah evidence of the presence ef man. ‘The weariness and the hunger wei i] forgotten. The long hours of the tast two days and a night were a night- mare. He was now awake. He ran on, exultant. He grinned so bard the, deepening wrinkles cracked his wind- jened cheeks, and he grinned iF when it hurt. 4 4, And then he emerged from the thick the barren ashore of &@ lake. ran out to the water's edge, fap-Nke, and was gone. That all, Except for a charred tea- thrust into the moss, there was other. sign that a man had ever there. Merton's spirits fell as quickly as ‘they had soared. The weariness, the hunger, the aching musoles, made Serer felt more keenly than be- Then be thought of the other end of ., the trail, He knew now it was only a y portage, a trail which might not be traveled again until the next summe: But while th Be483 abut ly back. ) _ Once, where the trail dipped into a swamp, he eaw the imprint of moc- casing. Side by side they were, one larger than the other, neither as la as the impression his own feet le. In the thin coating of mud thawed by the mid-day sun, they appeared so fresh that Merton looked up almost expecting to see some one. . But footprints were pointed toward the lake he had just lett. Whoever had made them had gone on, leaving no other sign. Slowly Merton went back. He reached the place where he had first struck the trail. there he Iked carefully, watching closely for tracks, Twice more he found them, the small prints and the larger ones. And then again he suddenly came out on the shore of a lake. It was the Jake he had followed all day, and the trail ended where the water began. ipped out several holes in his belt he had for- @etten.all about it and was again plodding aimlessly, blindly, half con- Me had been in that condition since noon. Except for a light breakfast, he had had nothing to of relief in two days. He had found that tightening did not dimin- * ish ‘his hunger, and besides it had been decidedly uncomfortable, But loosening it did not bring new strength, and he stil! etum- he made his way along the lake shore. He had been lost since early not slept the night before because of For a edge of the forest, where he began to gather firewood, “We intended to'make several miles more to-night, but we'll camp here and get supper at once,” the gif suid ie turned to the pack she had brought across. the portage and be- gan to unfasten the lashings. “How did you get lost?” he in- quired as she laid out two kettles and @ trying-pan beside the blaze the In- dian had built. ¥ = “T took the wrong trail on a’ por- tage, I think,” replied Merton. “It was im &@ swamp, and the trail divided. 1 was ahead, and I must have taken the wrong fork. Anyhow, it faded completely. away, and I not only couldn't find tt again, but I couldn't find the main trail.” A “Didn't you @ game trail when you saw it?’ sho asked, in startled curiosity, is that what I did? I'm afraid 1 don’t know much about euch things,” waid Merton. “Whom were you with?” was the Birl’s next direct question. “Lawrie Saitar, a friend. We were making a trip into the country west ¢ eee Bay and were on our way ack. “Does he know more about the bus! than you do?” 2 » yes, Lawrie is an old hand at it. He bunts big game in New Bru wick every fall, C “Then your partner is not much yeber off than you are. I should hink you would want to find nim before you started back to the rail- road. He'll frozen in and starve,” “Oh, I don’t think it will be chat bad. ‘They have food, and the In- Lira will know how to take care of m. “Indians?” ‘es, we each had a guide, you know, to do the packing and the The complete hopelessness of his Paddling. situation struck him with full force. Without food, without even a match, without any knowledge of where he other than that it was more miles han he knew from civilization, there was nothing except death. Even a ened woodsman would have been mayed by the prospect, and Mer- ton kpew nothing of woods life. The fact that some one had passed over the trail that day was only irony. It held no chance of rescue unless-- Merton sprang to his feet with new ' hope. Perhaps it was some one mak- + ing a short Journey. Perhaps who- ever It was would return as he had gone. It was hardly probable, but {t was possibl * It was his only hope, and’ he in- “ dulged tn it to the utmost: He chose # seat on a windfall, facing the trail, and eat down to wait. Ther eager expression in his eyes. ears were ready for the first sound, After five minutes he firmly be- lieved the traveller or travellers would yeturn, He must only wait. He could not die so miserably.. Faith is a won- derful thing—faith and life. And then they came. He first heard them, the rustling of the apruce | needies. He waited e¢agerly. The brush parted, but Merton did not move from his seat. For, emerging upon the lake shore, walking with quick, certain steps, came 4 girl, Across the top of her forehead was the broad strap of.a tump-line. Suspended from this was a large, bulky pack. Merton sprang to hia feet in amaze- ment. Hat in hand, he stepped for- ward. “he said, and then “Do you live “Good evening, in his eagerness added: near here?” The girl was rot startled, nor, ex- cept for a glance at Merton, did she take any notice of him. Straight on across the beach to the water she went. Then with a quick twist of her head she loosened the strap across her hair. Merton sprang forward to help her, but before he had taken two steps she had eased the burden to the ground, "Good Syening. she replied, 100k- ing squarely at him for the first time. Merton had never seer such a girl. For @ moment he believed she was a breed, so deep and even was the col- oring’ of her skin. Her body was strong, straight, and, with the heel- less inoccasina, portessly carried. But the beauty of her face, the wind-torn and naturally seditious hair of @ ght brown, the brown eyes, in which the possibilities of laughter showed behind the curious stare, dis- pelled all idea of Indian blood confident ed to will “But | must,” was the reply of a man who Is accust having people do anything he ing to pay for. Tiefore the girl could speak again there Was another sound in the brush behind them, and Merton turned to seo an Indian, a large pack on his hack and a birch canoe on top of It, come out on to the shore “How long have you been lost?” the girl asked, “sinee y: erday morning.” must be hungry, Ne- and she spoke quickly to the Indien in hie own language. Ma-heu-da-ois Want 24 ance tp the - Pa you live near here?" Merton repeated. For a moment she did not answer, while her frank curiosity changed to a closer, questioning scrutiny, 4 seventy miles,” she repil on » asked simply, “Why confessed Merton. | "I ant to employ some one to take'ms to the railroad as quickly as possi- H he railroad!" exclaimed the girl. You can't reach the railroad now.” The girl looked up incredulously from her cookin, “Do you -mean,” she asked, “that gente Indians to do your work tor “Of course.” The girl, after busying herself with the preparation of the meal for five minutes, paused suddenly and asked: “What were you doing when came here “T had just found this trail, It was the first sign of a human being I had ween since yesterday morning.” “And you had no idea where you were going?” “None all, I found this lake last might and have been following it all jay. “The ‘girl pouréd a handful of tea into a kettle, As she removed it from the biage and looked at him again, Merton saw that her frank curiosity had given way to cold calculation. There was also a slight doubt in her eyes. He resented the close scrutiny. He felt that the gtri, evidently so com- netent herself, was disdainful of his own shortcomings. That she had an- other object in her questions was shown, however, when she asked: trip?” “L couldn't tell exactly,” he con- fessed. “You see, Lawrie had planned the trip and asked me to go at the last moment, when one of Gord Wendler’s pontes fell on him and broke three ribs. Lawrie had the maps, and he and the Indians picked out the route, I heard them talking it over, but the names were all long, impossible Indian affairs, and I didn’t learn dny of them." “Then you don't know where you went, and you don't know where you were when you were lost?” “No, I'm afraid I don't, I wasn't much interested in the route and didn't attention.” The ni again busied herself with the meal and a few minutes later an- nounced that it was ready, Merton wns ravenous, The food was of the Inmest, more @o than he had ever nown, but it was good. Darkness hat come when they had finished and the Indian had washed the dishes. ou can go with us in the morn ng,” announced the girl as she rose and went toward a sinall tent the In- dian had erected during the prepara- tion of the meal. “I can take you to ‘One Post, and you can see there what will be done for you. We'll Probably get there late to-morrow night. To-night you can sleep with Ne-bau-be-nis.” She went in and drew the flaps, Merton sat by the fire for a few min- utes, but weariness and drowsiness soon drove him to the second tent the Indian had erected back near the portage trail. It Was still dark and very cold when Merton heard the girl cailing him to breakfast, The meal was ready when 4 washed in the ice-rimmed lake at down at the place she si- ndicated, No one spoke dur lrg the meal, and, as soon as it was finished the Indian began to pack the tents and blankets, while the girl washed tho dishes and packed them with the food, For the first tim opportunity to stu¢ Merton had an her and to won- der what wort of a young woman this could be who travelled seventy miles from home with only an Indian ¢om- panion, who cooked so skilfully over an open fire, who carried a heavy burden on a portage. The tan on her face und hands indicated a life rather than a season in the open, and her strong, straight body seemed tireless, But, mingled with bis admiration, there was o slight resantmant He The Evenin ob Rater ess, PERFECTLY Beautifuc! By M felt, in the girl's questions and in her frank scrutiny, and undercurrent of suspicion, a doubt of what he had told her. Further, she had been candid in her questions, but she had not volun- f. As she held it out to him sud- denly jerked it back and i at it closely. Merton, and out. tretched, waited. He wondered that she should read it so openly, but he anger. He atill held it in his hand, He looked at it quickly, and took out the letter within, but it told him nothing. The nvelope wos unaddressed, In teered anything about he i was wholly unprepared for the wrath one corner was the Insignia of the While he was busy with these which blazed in her eyes when she Hudson's Bay Company. Below it thoughts the packs were completed looked up and again held the letter was the company’s name. TT! was all. It was all the girl had # she had not opened the envelope. The inclosed letter was merely a note of introduction to Hudson's Bay Company factors to whom Merton and Lawrie Saltar might apply for supplies. It was signed by the chief of the district at Fort William, Bewildered, Merton turned the let- ter over and over. Nothing on it or within it could possibly be connected with the girl or what she had done, The myatery was inexplicable, Carefully he reviewed their conver- sation, all that had been @ald, all the questions she had asked, Not a word of it could have brought suspicion upon himaelf, More in disgust than in wonder, ho dismissed the subject and turned to the more urgent question of his pres- ent needs, jatever the girl's mo- tives, they bad nothing to do with his subsequent plight. An explana- tion would not bring him food or give him shelte: But hie anger had not been futile. It had aroused him, had brought out the better qualities in his character, He was no longer the helpless city man lost in the wilderness as he turned to @ serious consideration of what confronted him. Before he had simply wandered piindly, heedlessly, without any objective save the mere chance that he would be rescued, Now for the. first time since he had entered the wilderness he became an individu not a pawn. He consid- ered every phage of the situation, weighed every possibility. The girl had sald that she was seventy miles from home. They had paddled more than twenty that morning. Nearly fifty still remained, and that must be doubled If he fullowed the shore, with always the ohance that he could not find the way. But ehe had said at noon that they were half way and should reach some Place at night. “One Post,” ho re- membered she had sald at another time, That meant “One Post” was only twenty miles by water, perhaps twice that by land. Forty miles, and he had no know!- edge of the route. The canoe had toward hin “I suspected it last night,” he sald in @ tone that wae cold rather than angry. “Your etory did not sound right, and this proves what I aus. pected.’ “Proves what?" demanded Merton in amazement. “That you are not lost, and that you know more about this country than you pretend to know. I see the whole scheme now.” “Scheme!” repeated Merton. But the girl had turned to the canoe in which the Indian was ready, She spoke @ few quick words in Ojibway. The Indian pushed out from shore. Then, before Merton knew what ‘was happening, the girl ran quickly to the bow, stepped in and pushed off, Both she and the Indian dipped their and the canoe set in the water and loaded. “You had better take the centre,” said the girl as she picked up her paddle and stepped into the bow. “There is a third paddle.” She seemed to take It for granted that Merton would paddle, ‘and as the Indian shoved the craft out from shore he picked up the blad He tried hard, but it The short, quick stroke, the lightning recovery, were beyond his ri Fre- quently his paddle clashed with that of the girl, and each time he mumbled an apology After half an hour he began to do better, but he also began to tire. The pace was so fast it affected his wind as vel as his strength. But pride would not permit him to stop, and the paddies instantly. Before Merton forenoon was one of misery. Hour could move, the canoe was thirty feet after hour they paddled, the girl in from shore. the bew as silent as the Indian in the “What ure you doing?” demanded stern. At noon she spoke a few words Merton, running down to the shore, in Ojibway, and the Indlan immedi- The girl and the Indian continued to ately turned the canoe toward a paddie swiftly until they ‘© fifty point. | yards from him. Then, with a swirl of pea ol have wach," fais the girl bia urned the dow. « stepped ashore. “We are ali “ts iret hale?wayenow and 1 Raiden time I gaw you." she called dlatinetiy. make it to-night. iow I am sure. You told me you Merton, tired out, his arms and back $6 lost, and you must edmit that 1 sching, sat down on a windfall. In found you, rescued you from the wil: the warm mid-day sun he removed nm ron caved his coat and threw it carelessly be- YOUF life, won it, and it te min side him. have the right to do with it as I wisn, The noon meal wan an silent as the withernrne Vou knee eee tent i not res; t i Merton's attempta “at conversation, foe etatnen, °F PATRW fe te Rone of nce or twice she asked questions another way. Merton was baffled. Ha felt that omaft forward. | Merten, speechioss she doubted him, suspected him of Se ommat, (Men Ree something, Several times during the ioe eae s mena neither tie girl see cake might a ent gt nor the Indian turned to. look vor of her suspicions, of her silence, be ™/#sed @ stroke of the paddle, Abandoned— Why? ERTON'S amazement quick- jy turned to anger, angor 4 . i and resentment, at thi® gone along the shore of the lake Ne ever the girl's reasons for abandon- was a chance that he woilld ultimate. ing him to @ death by starvation, she Ivy reach “One Post," whatever it had not been fair, had not given him ™eht be. Merton reasoned that, if a chanas io Gaui aimee’ the girl and the Indian made a por- he would cross it by fol ing the her questioning inspection, returned shore. Hila alight experience, had to him, He saw that from the first taught him that this was by no mea she had been euspicious, that she * certain journey, but !t was his only had doubted what he had told her. hed doubte bad told her. He realized fully that this one pos- cleared, the real, underlying motives ibility, even if he found “One Post,” for the girl's strange action buried ‘id not mean ultimate safety. The themselves. more deeply in mystery, Kitl’s action Indicated the reception ‘useless. could not imagine, Ordinarily he would have asked frankly what troubled her. But, with- gut open accusation, without even a hint of what her thoughts might be, he could find no way to bring up thi subject. At first he had believed it was the natural suspicion and reticence of the backwoods dweller in the presence of a@ stranger, But there was nothing in the girl’s manner to support this, Outwardly she was of the wilderness. But, with her physical fitness and competency, the suggestion ended, There was nothing of the simpering, siggiing girl who sees strangers rare) who speaks in broken sen- tences, in impossible English, This girl Was perfectly self-pos- seased, Wholly at her ease, She acted s though tho situation were entirely in her hands, And there was an indefinable but certain current of CHAPTER IU. M monstrous injustice, What- was now on. If he followed it there ta eet dia Vividly now her actions, her words, fee wounl crag Ke he was now on, chance. But as these factors in the alluation mystery of something hidden from Merton could not conceive of any pos- he might expect, Hut it was that or him, It troubled him, but he could elble reason why one human being POfHing, and there would be others only walt. should abandon another to death, It there besides the girl, men with whom he could reason. Instantly he turned along the lake. Throughout the afternoor he con tinued, circling around deep bays, go. ing out on long points, only to be turned back, making three miles where a canoe could go it one, but always pressing on When dusk came the nightmare of was murder, murder more cruel than meal was finished, In three-quarters the quick stroke of @ knife or the of an hour after they had landed the quicker bullet. canoe was again loaded, Merton ree it was a slow, painful, Mngering membe hia coat at the last mo- death, in which the mental anguish ment and hurriedly pleked tt up by would exceed the physical pain, Ivor one sleeve. ‘The girl was making a@ the first time he fully realized the last inspection of the camping place extreme hopelessmess of his plight. and saw @ flicker of white as the The picture came to him suddenly, There was little delay, once the young man turned toward the canoe. overpowering in its reality, and ter- the first night alone was repeated Sho reached into the brush and ror gained the mastery for a moment. He had no matches, and he could not brought out an envelope. build @ fire. The rkness in the Suddenly Merten thought of the had “You dropped this." she called. envelope which caused the girl's thick woode was intense and the ¢ World Daily Magazine. Monday, May. 1$: 1916 aurice Ketten NOT VERY WeLL . HE MARCHED IN Tae, PREPAREDNESS ARADE AND HIS FEET WE! PREPARED BY ANTHONY HOPE Next Week’s Complete Novel in The Evening World thrown him and Lawrie Galtar come to the rescue with the plea iad Join him in the Hudson Bay D. But even Marcia Kerr was drives from Merton's mind as the secon afternoon wore of. ‘The desire fo' food, for rest, for warmth, ! an obsession. He did not know where ho was going, yet ‘instinctively kept close to the lake Pe His = be not. . Then hauatto: 40 that on! ; Benne eee eetutscOatat bere we te’ ‘step after step when to move at all t torture. : ‘hen Merton's head did clear Wooked anxiously for some sign of irl in the canoe, or af " of which Merton did not catch tte rest. There sound of the paddies. [i the ‘oknoe appeared out of the - m before him, ‘Fump in,” said the man in the "Poere! wab no” explanation, no fur- over four casks. For an instant he ther instruct rt delleved that his delirium had Te prieve riggs But why should he imagine: tt to ‘Then ho bent over and felt ul » The reason for their being there dane of the was an inexplical to Merton as hi® ehoved away. finding them. He examined them Am they started he felt a more closely. There was no label to on bis arm and turned to find indicate the nature of thair contents, the man in the stern, the young fel- But the last cask he tipped over had low who had favored been leaking, and he caught the odor was holding out a of whiskey. @tasped it ts In his perplexity Merton atood up cold and, and looked around. The lake was not was more than thirty feet from him and, keep warm. through the brush, he thought he As th raw a trail. He hurried down to the the great lake the water and along the shore until be died found @ portage. And the first thing he saw was tho imprint of the girl's and the Indian's moccasins. Merton know that thls did aot néc- essarily mean that he was nearing the goal. It might even mean greater dificulty in picking out her route, wntl eagerly, despite his ‘Tee es ain cold of the long night did net permit sleep. As soon it was light he went on along the lake. By noon hunger and wear! brought a semi-delirium, but through it all a hidden force kept him on his feet, kept him moving, kept his face always in the direction the girl in the canoe had taken. In the brief periods of clear-head- ednesa Merton’s thoughts turned more to the reasons for his coming to the wilderness than to the possibility of hig getting out. He thought rather bitterly that, as it was a ginl who might have saved him, it was also a girl who had sent him here. He re- membered the letter which had done it, “I don't find any difficulty In writ- ing this,” Marcia Kerr had begun, 1 thought you cared, It would be dif- ferent, but J know that neither of us cared as people should care. We be- caine engaged like most everything else we have done since wo were born, Our families planned it, and we were told it was a highly desirable thing to do. My only wish now Is that you will see it as I have seen it, that you will have an experience as T have had, and will realize that the greatest happiness doesn't necessar- ily come with the best ordered life, “Just think, Merton, I'm giving up the city, my friends, everything I have known, and in thelr place I'm going to live in @ five-roomed house in the rawest, newest, most impos- sible place in the world, a place such as you don't even know exist well groomed gode are gone, Merton, and in their place is something big. something vital, something we were never permitted to know.” Between the lines of this lettor is a lete descripsion of Merton Boyd. ad become engaged, so had he done everything else in hia life. Son of @ man whom he knew ouly es a p n living in an dffice and a club, of woman whose religion wi ancestry and its stifling appurten- ances, ho had been born to a life ar- Bed even to it® most minute de is. Good breeding and good form became subtly inherei originality Was suppressed, individuality never had a ch 6, Through it all he remained a clean, honest, decent youth near a man's man as the } system permitted, playing the ga of the eople he knew, but always falling short of leadership on links, courts or polo fields, because he failed to bring to his sport any abandon or recklessness or mental daring, His form was always perfect, Had his mother lived Merton never would have thought of to the wilderness after Marcia Kerr's letter, H that he must go somew i cape the gossip. It was his: prid not his heart, that suffered, for he had learned that the man Marcia had so suddenly marie Person from “the West, a man who lived on the outside ‘of things, in new placos, and who liked & wool shirt. first the news had stunned Marcia had always been a sane, lable girl, just the sort he bi he should marry, He could that she uncon in her explain it only by decid was a throwback, that trolled ancestor had persis! After the first shock he pet it was #0, that he 1 the disgrace that might 9 foll 1 his mother, Merton was fronted by the neceasity of reach ng the first important deciston his life. Things always had be arranged before, Now he must act. And then Gord Wendler's pony had he ferring the casks, bags and boxes into , But the mere fact that he had been y. on the Fight track heartened him, and ‘he Staped to Sa to he turned and hurri: lo’ a mbed fingers . In his eagerness hetforget al beneath his coat and under five. ‘The faint crackling of brush UD | eas the hillside was unnoticed. 5 For a quarter of a mile the trail led through a swamp and then u; rise to dip to the shore of ano! He ran down the hill, expect- ant, eager, though reason told him ho “would find nothing, except a ry empty path, There waa an empty path but, hair wally the draw: Cte Bd that of it, was a large freight canoe. Beside It’ the trail was a pile of stores covered me gone he with a sheet of canvas. In the cance kn el Itaelt ware four casks Iike those be ae had found in the brush, i Merton knew at once that help was That's what I was at hand. ‘The carelese manner in.’ Merton which the canoe had been drawn up, 04 breat the paddies dropped, a coat thrown %¢ acroxs the thwart, told him the own- ers would be there soon. Proud that th his own forethongttt and persever- i al ance had been responsible for his rea. fortune in fading th he. aat ‘fortune in finding canoe, down to walt as patiently as he could, Where rag would starve. It was not five minutes before the Would be as certain ae though. they brush beside the trail parted and, Worn t6 we ote what they te. out of the dusk, two men strode on ip edge ote Pe ya to the beach, each carrying two casks tended to do pa eR with a tump line, teoetio, in. ta wesnenae . “Hiello|" | ofled Merten: ae of resistance. Before tee toe eee stopped for an instant and looked @t 14 was powerless, Ape he him. “I'm about as glad to #06 YOU Waited as the can to- See eae eree ing eatauaty, Ward an island on the ight. ‘Care. om cpeaens PO j fully the cancemen brought the craft ‘There were several things he wanted | ¥lly to ask ‘them, but they had set down UP besidd a flat rock their burdens and were staring at , Cet Out," ordered the stera pad- him, And something in that etare ler. made ‘his heart sick, his cou: Slowly and in great pain Merton leave him. Then, as if he had not crawled ashore. He straightened ‘his been there, the mon tur to tho numbed legs and stood up. His mind pile of stores and began loading t refused to work. He felt as if the canoe, beg: at their eraft and carry them beck once. I'll let a man set his own price nto the brush. After several if he'll get me there, What do you Le a forth they picked up the way?" c " growled the stern pad- But the two men continued to ig- r. nore him. They worked awiftly, trans- Merton, falling to compréhend, stand “Hurry up," came the second ‘coi . 5 mand, and, forgetful of his cramped muacles, he sprang to his nlace. In another minute th were agai threading their way among the isl- "Too big a load for crossing t stretch,” offered the howman, ae uM last ii 1 dropped behind and the their craft, "Listen!" erted Merton excitedly. “I tell you I'tn lost, starving!" The men did not look up. Merton peered at them more closely in the darkness, The girl had been suspicious when she had first ecen nim, she #aid, She had later aban- doned him on the lake short. ‘These men were openly hostile from the be- ginning, Was there some connection Conon ves Hane out Into the black- between them, or was there some- bs thing about him that aroused instant Merton paddled on with the others suspicion in tho ininds of those who The sky was still clear and there was lived in the country? no wind. ‘Tho surface of the water “What is the matter with you?” he Was smooth, and the great freight demanded belligerently, “What have Canoe rode high, After half an hour I done that you shouldn't at least they reached the opposite shore. The give mo something to eat?” stretch they had crossed had not been more than two miles. Gradually these things tmipressed * thomselves upow his mind, They had "We know who you are and that's enough for us," retorted the younge of the two stran, ‘ . crossed a bigger stretch with the full eo de cried Merton. joad and there had been no sugges- Th aid'the nity tion of danger. He looked round and wea ‘aid theother, found that the load consisted of oO had taken his place DOxe and bags. Not one of the ° S eight casks of whiskey remained. io the now loaded canoe, *fmediately the entire situation be- The younger suddenly sprang to his came clear. These men were illicit Place in the stern, and before Merton Whiskey peddlers. ‘They were bring- could move toward them they had }yy ws in whiskey for trade with the In- - pushed the craft out from shore. 7 HO , “Wait! emed Merton, running (ans. The factor of a Efudson’s Hay post had told him of the big profits tf one coud keep clear of the down to the edge of the water, “Yo can't leave 1 this, It's murder 1 d authorities, The big company ttaelf With the sagainat the bot- 3" r : tom, the 1 ntinued to pole the Would ald in suppressing the trade where it could. eee HOP, | Ho remembered tho girl's actions ine? fate he ys aha actuate upon finding the envelope with the sey eee be young man on company’s insignia in one corner, She he shore was one of their brand; she had sus- I yy pia pected him of being an officer of t CHAPTER Ul. law or @ representative of the bi ra company, and rather than run ¢ A Reprieve. visk of endangering her own people HERE was something so ehe had abandoned him to what she sinister about the silent, Knew would be certain death. She imaladebie aaa in bad met foete men and told them, for ieee pe they had not been surprised when which the men started they found him. se away, leaving him alone on They knew that he had seen the the port that Merton could not Whiskey when he found the canoe. ‘They bad refused at first to take him because they believed that, alive, he would put an end to their business, (To Be Continued.) even ery out, He stood there etupe- ned. ‘Then from the darkness over the \ mac energy pc ll etl