MONDAY AFTERNOON, JUNE 14; W 24 '
CT/iejLANDOF
FQggQTTEN MEN
Edison Jllat'dla.lL
Reledsecl t>/ NEA Service? Inc,
Copyright 1923 V/ Little, Blown a Co.
beginhere today
Peter Newhall, Augusta, Ga.,-fles
to Alaska, after told to by
Ivan Ishmin, Russian violinist, he
had drowned Paul Sarichef, Ish
niin's secretary. Ishmin and Peter’s
wife, Dorothy, had urged him to
flee to South America. He joins
Larson in response to a,
disoKs signal, at, .sea, giving Lar
son his sea ■ jacket. Their launch
hits rocks.
Dorothy is advised that her hus
band’s body, identified by his sea
jacket, is buried in Alaska, But
Peter ras been rescued. Injuries
completely change his appearance,
hiding his identity. Larson’s bo ly
occupies the grave.
Ishmin and Dorothy go to Alas
ka, to return Peter’s body. They do
not recognize Peter, who is chos'-m
head guide. A storm strands them
at the grave. Peter is tempted to
murder Ishmin when he sees the
latter kiss Dorothy. Next day Isa
min is charged by a bear whose
cub he had wounded.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
Her thick ears iaid bad: against
the burly head, rangs flashing, high
shoulders rocking as the great,
curved claws slashed through the
moss. She was- a huge beast—
weighing more than a thousand
pounds—and the power of those ter
rific muscles was beyond the wit
of man to estimate.
Ivan had never been in greater
danger, nor was such conceivable.
The two natives on the hill above
instantly gave him up for lost and
fled desperately, lest the enraged’
bear should turn on them. And in j
Pete’s mind two thoughts flashed'
like rockets—One of the white,'
pure brilliance of a star, the other
so strange and sullen and red, like
the sun seen through the smoke cf
a forest fire, that it seemed beyond
the pale of ' heaven-born mankind. 1
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‘TF HELP CAN BE FOUND,
I’LL FIND IT—”
At that instant Pete knew surely
that he had only to hold his fire,
and Ivan would be torn to pieces
before his eyes.
No blame could be laid on him
self for failure to stop the charge.
He had but one shell in his gun,
and he might have sore need of
that in his own defense. From the
position in which he stood it was
a doubtful shot at best, not because
he could not hit the great form of
the bear, but because likely he
could not reach her vitals. Ivan
was firing desperately with nis
pistol, and maddened by many
minor wounds, it was whojly prob
able that the bear would turn to
ward Pete after she had struck
her first enemy to the earthj. In
that case the guide’s only hope
would lie in saving his one shell
for a shot between the glowing
eyes or into the throat at close
range; there would be no time or
or chance to procure other shells
from his pdeket and reload his
rifle.
Yet at the same instant that this
A Very Pleasant'Twosome 9
/ \
I JgSBL., y 1
wi
i .a-'. ' *9
Icj .?T ■ ’ - 'ouMrIM 'Aum
- ?<
There are no hazards on. the
marriage links, says Gene Sara
zan, who mad e such a mashie
with the lovely Mary Pick that
they arrived at a New York
church in a single drive. Here’s
the way they looked to the par
son and the cameraman.
knowledge came to him, his love
for Dorothy commanded him as
never before.. Perhaps she loved
this man, and thus he must fight
for him just as he would fight for
her.
These two opposing impulses,
find all the thoughts that centered
upon them flashed to his conscious
ness in the twinkle of an eye.
His gun sprang to his shoulder.
He looked alon;g the barrel. The
bear had reared up, preparing to
strike, and at this range Pete could
hardly miss thei huge form; the
question was whether or not he
could reach a vital place. But at
the crack of the rifle the roaring
bear pitched forward, in unearthly
silence, in the moss.
The rest was like, a dream: Ivan
shuddering, the pocketing his pis
tol; the fleeing form of the natives;
the hills unchanged against the
gray elouds. This man was no
coward— this son of Asia—and he
was able to smile faintly as he
turned to his rescuer.
“That was a good shot, Pete,”
he said in a voice that hardly trem
bled. “I owe you some extra days’
pay for that. A few jumps more,
and I’m afraid we’d have had two
handsome gentlemen to carry back
to Georgia, instead of one.”
But Pete scarcely heard. He was
swept with exhultation, not at the
successful shot he had made, but at
his sudden freedom from the domi
nance of his own passions. He need
no longer fear his impuleses. He
had escaped from himself and had
come out beyond, true to his ideals
and his heritage of chivalry and
manhood.
CHAPTER XI 1
Dorothy’s Loyalty
Rough seas prevailed during the
first five days of their isolation,
and these were followed by a long
period of comparative calm—a
pleasant, threatening weather, yet
nothing to keep stout ships in from
of waiting that which at first was
only a vague fear became almost a
certainty; that the Warrior had
gone down among the island crags
the sea; and at the end of ten days
and would not return.
And now the castaways found
themselves confronted by an ugly
situation. As their hopes of rescue
by the Warrior went down, the
available sfupply of food likewise
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decreased, and autumn was dying
in she land.
So one evening Pete called an in
formal council of war. “I’ll admit
we’ve got to do something, and we
can’t wait very much longer,” he
began “We’ve given the Warrior
time in plenty to get back, with
some days to spare to take care of
breakdowns—and we haven’t as
much as had word of her. It may
be she’ll get back yet—.delayed
through some more or less serious
accident we haven’t figured on—■
and again she may not. This is a
port of missing ships, out' here. I
don’t see how we dare wait much
longer for her to come.”
“Agreed,” Dorothy replied
promptly. “What do you suggest
we do about it?”
“Let’s sum it all up first, and
see where we are. Let’s assu ; a
the worst, that the Warrior has
gone down, and that she went down
(before she got word to anybody to
come and rescue us. ' Sooner or
later Bradford and De Long, down
in Seattle, will learn that the War
rior did. not come into Seward, but
she wasn’t expected at any definite
time, if she was expected at all,
and it may be months before a
search party is sent out—a half
hearted search party at that, be
cause they will naturally think we
Went down with the Warrior. Af
ter the same long period of weeks
and months, some of your relatives
£md friends down below will be
come anxious about you and dis
patch some search parties; but
they will likely become discour
aged by the same news—that we
went tfown with the Warrior—an j
rank us among the missing.” Pete
did not add that this business. of
being included with the missing
was an old game to him.
“But say they do come and
search this shore: at least, it will
be a matter of weeks and months.
And weeks and months in this cli
mate, and winter and with little
food, is a deadly deal. There re
mains the dory, and the difficult
more or less dangerous trip down
the coast to some settlement.
“Os course, it’s the only possible
plan now; you’ll agree with me in
that. But our food supplies are
already so low it wouldn’t be saf.-
to attempt the trip for the five of
us.
“We’ve got to get busy quick.
The natives are already getting
scared; they say they can smell
winter, that it’s going to set in
early. Now this is my plan.
“Tomorrow you let me take
th rye days’- rations of grub—a Si
wash outfit the men up here call it
—and start off across the Penin
sula on foot. I’ll pich my way
over that range, sleep.ng out at
night, and down on the Pacific
side, where I’m bound to run into
some native village or trapp r’s
hut in a few days’ travel. Then
I’ll get a hundred pounds of can
ned good and come back here.
Meanwhile the‘natives will go-hunt
ing and kill all the venison they
can, which we’ll dry oyer the fire
—cut it into strips and jerk it the
best we can. Th.cn with that fr,sh
supply of food, you two, with the
two natives to man the oars, van
work down the coast and out.”
"And what will you do, in the
meantime?” Dorothy asked.
“You can leave me a little flour
and my rifle, and I’ll ' make it
through; when you hit a settlement
you can ask a native to pack me
in a load of grub. That isn’t lx
very big boat, and your grub will
be limited, the best you can do. Be
sides, there’s a possibility that some
one will come here to look for
you, and in that case one of us
.ought to be here to tell him where
to pick you up.”
It was a good plan; she felt at
once that it was the only plan. But
when she tried to be hopeful, aj
deep wave of depression seemed to
engulf her, a feeling of hopeless
ness, indifference to the future,
almost as if old age had suddenly
claimed her.
“I don’t hce why it will be neces
sary for any one to cross the main
land,” Ivan said, in the hush.that
followed Pete’s melow, deep bari
tone. He spoke with considerable
emphasis and urgency. “While you
were gone, we’d just be eating
more grub all the time. We’d bet
ter start in the dory tomorrow.”
Pete shook his head. “It wou'd
not be safe, with our supplies so
far reduced. You must, remember
that while I’m gone the natives
can be hunting and drying meat.”
Perhaps the best plan would be
for you to stay and hunt, too; jerk
ed venison is a fine ration, and with
the little we have here it would
be all we’d need for the trip,”
But only one of us can hunt,
because we’ve got only-one rifle,
Mr. Ismin,” Pete argued politely,
Ivan hesitated, and his face look
ed yellowish-white in the fading
light of day. “If some one is going
to go, it had better be me,” he said
at last. “I can cross the ranges as
well as you can.” Pete’s eyes drop
ped over the Mongol’s graceful, vet
powerful form, and he believed
:that this was true. “If help can be
found. I’ll find it—l’m not afraid
of hardship, either. I’ve seen plen
ty of it, in my training for the
Russian army. You can take care
of Mrs. Newhall and look out for
her comfort as you’ve done pre
viously.”
Pete glanced at Dorothy to seel
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[what her face showed; but she was
| evidently neutral. “Perhaps Mrs.
’Newhall would not want to be left
'here—without your protection,” Bq
said simply.
i “On the contrary, I’m perfectly
willing to do what’s best for all
concerned,” Dorothy remarked.
“I’m sure it would be best. You
need Pete here to look out for your
comfort, to dry the venison and to
take care of the camp while the na
tives are hunting. I have every
confidence in you, Fete; and so has
Mrs. Newhall.”
“I appreciate what you say, very
much,” Pete returned.
Continued in Our Next Issue)
Z DAILY POEM
TIN TYPES—
Just look through the album,'
that famous old album that mother
and dad used to keep. You’ll laugh
kill you cry at what catches the
eye. View the pages and “read
’em and weep.”
Ah, those were the days when
the tin types wore made and your
parents were proud as could be.
They stood to be snapped, rather
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are funny to see.
Dear Mom in a dress that was
puffed at the sleeves. Old-fashion
ed is all you can say. But time has
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today.
Then Dad in a derby that perch
ed on his head and a coat that was
up to his waist. A haughty Beau
Brummel is what people said, for
in those days such things were in
'taste.
Together they stood; olden sweet,
hearts, you know. The queen of
the day and her king. Such tin
types, it seems, after all go to
show just what changes time’s pass
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PAGE THREE
is
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Make your returns early.
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