PAGE TWO
pe-- L ANL> OF
rapOTTEN MEN
Edison JllafshalL
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Peter Newhall, Augusta, Ga.. |
flees to Alaska, after being told oy
Ivan Ishmin, Russian violinist, he
had drowned Paul Sarichef, Ish
min’s secretary. Ishmin and Peter’s
wife, Dorothy, had urged him to flee ,
to South America. He joins Big
Chris Larson in response to a dis
tress signal at sea, giving Larson
his sea jacket. Their launch nits
rocks. Larson’s body is buried an
Newhall’s. Peterr, rescued, finds in
puries have completely changed his
appearance.
Dorothy and Ishmin go to Alaska,
to return Peter’s body. They do not
recognize Peter, who is chosen head
guide. Storm strands them at the
grave. Ishmin urges Dorothy to
marry him but she would first ask
the spirit of her husband, whom she
believes dead. They hold a seance
with one of the guides as medium.
She receives the message: “Change
name,” and believes it means to
marry Ishmin.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
“You want me —call Paul Sari
chef?”
"Yes—”
"Why, Dorothy?” Ivan whispered
tensely. “He would have no mes
sage for you—”
"I want him to try, just the
same,” the girl replied. “Can you
call him, Joe —”
The native was already calling:
and all of them knew that psychic
energy expended in that summons
was beyond their wit to grasp. For
tune Joe seemed immersed in a ter
rific struggle that would seemingly
rend the spirit from the body. "He
come,” the witch-doctor muttered
at last. "He no want to —he here
soon—”
The muttered words grew unin
telligible, the ceased. The circle
waited for Paul Sariehef—New
hall’s victim of months before—to
speak to them from beyond the
grave. ,
"Hass’t he anything to say to
us?” Dorothy asked, after a long
period of waiting. Word of Sari
eMs forgiveness was an urgent
need with her.
But as they waited, Joe himes :lf
emerged into their familiar world.
He was white and drawn; and he
seemed more like a man drowsy
with slumber than one who had
pierced the greatest of all myster
ies. The chain was broken, and he
got up.
“Me no try any more tonight,” r>e
said simply. “Maybe some other
time.”
The girl gave him a smile of heart
felt gratitude, ‘"fliank you for what
you’ve given me,” she told him
earnestly. “You’ve answered my
greatest question—l really don’t
need to know any more.”
Ivan, at the door of the tent, read
the truth in her radiant face. He
reached her hands, then drew her
slowly toward him. "Do you know
now?” he asked, holding her and
peering down into her luminous
eyes.
I, know now,” she told him trem
ulously. “Ivan—you can have my
promise, now I know that it’s Peter’s
wish as well as my own. He
wouldn’t advise me wrong.”
"Then I’ve won you at last?”
“Yes. When we come home
again.”
He would-not urge her, tonight,
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“THEN I’VE WON YOU AT
uAST?”
for anything more. His plai} of im
mediate marriage, the Russian pr’est
officiating, could be discussed at an
other hour. He kissed gently, tri
umphantly, her soft, yielding lips
From the door of his hut Pete
saw their firms in the dusk, the
girl’s white blouse and the man’s
encircling arms. He guessed tie
truth; that this was the first kiss
of their definite betrothal. Despair
swept over him like a great wave of
the sea he had once battled, but the
madness, the haunting and torturing
jealousy, was spared him now. He
had conquered that; and he must
never let it sweep him into hell
again.
CHAPTER XIII
False Standards
At the appointed time Ivan pack
ed his supplies for his journey
across the narrow, rugged Penin
sula in quest of help. He took three
days’ rations, tied them up in Pete's
light caribou robe, that was in it
self sufficient protection from even
severe cold, and strapped the pack
on his lean, well muscled back.
“Pete, I’m leaving you to take
care of Mrs. Newhall,” se said sinip
ly. "I know you’ll do it —as you’ve
done before. She’ll be wholly ir.
your charge till I get back, and do
not let any harm befall her.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Pete
assured him.
Ivan shook his lean shoulders
won’t be back for three days,” he
carelessly, to settle the pack. “1
went on casually, with no emphasis
whatever in his musical voice, “un
less I choose to come back before—
so I can’t look after her personally.
But I might say that if any harm
did befall her, I would chase the
man down, no matter what corner
of the earth he fled to, keeping af
ter him and after him till I got him.
When I did get him—”
He paused, and Pete looked him
squarely in the eyes. There was no
doubt whaever that this man meant
what he said, and no doubt of his
reason for saying it. “That isn’t
necessary, sir,” Pete told him stiff
ly-
“Well, I didn’t think it was, but
I wanted you to understand, in case
you were tempted. I am a man my
oelf, and I know what temptation
is.”
Pete’s eyes blazed. “Temptation
of that kind doesn’t come to men of
our race, unless they are perverts,”
he said easily. He was somewhat
pale, but he lit his pipe with a
steady match as he spoke. “I don’t
know about the inferior races.”
Ivan smiled inscrutably. “At
some other place and time—perhaps
just before we sail—l’ll give you a
chance to show whether tne Anglo-
Saxon is huperior to the Mongol. It
womd be really diverting, for a mo
ment. At present, both of us hav.J
work to do —you to take care of the
camp and I to go after supplies.”
His voice changed and softened, but
it had never been perceptibly hard.
'Keep up the hunt for caribou,” he
directed, “lhe boys haven’t done sc
well lately, lake care of the meat
anti cure it as fast as possible.”
I'hen he turned to say goodby to
Dorothy.
She walked a short distance up
the hill with Ivan; and her trust in
herself and her love for him swept
back to her to the full when he gave
her a goodby kiss.
“Take care of yourself, Ivan,”
she told him with a plaintive sweet
ness that carried him off his feet.
“You are all I have now. I have
lost so much, and I couldn’t bear to
lose you.”
They clung together, and then
she watched him as he strode away
up the hill. Sighing, she turned
back to the camp.
Pete had her breakfast ready
whtn she reached the camp and his
homely face glowed when he
brought it to her. He had taken
especial pains today—venison liger
fried with bacon, coffee such as
her colored mammy herself could
make, brown flapjacks not too thick,
served with maple sirup. His bread
shoulders towered above her; and
he was boyishly elated when he saw
she was pleased.
The day wore on, and his care of
her, his watchfulness, was a wond
pr. Although his work carried him
far afield, he had cut fuel always
ready for her hand in case the fire
burned low; he personally superin
tended her meals, and he saw—
with fine generalship—that at no
time she was left alone with Pavlof
und Fortune Joe.
When the day paled, and the
dusk crept in from the sea, she ap
preciated his care mope and more
He took special pains with her
dinner. He made reflector biscuits,
thin and light, to be served \vith
marmalade; he pot-roasted a fine
canvasback duck that Pavlof had
decapitated with the pistol; he fried
potatoes crisp and brown. He
watched her devour every mouthful
of her portion, the after he had
remade the bed and built up the
tire in the camv stove, he turned to
the task of washing dishes. Pavlof
and Joe, meanwhile, were cutting
into strips for curing the caribou
meat they had procured in the
day’s hunting.
'I wouldn’t mind washing the
dishes tonight,” Dorothy told him
in a friendly tone-. "Maybe you’d
like to help the men take care of
the meat—”
“Couldn’t think of it,” Pete re
turned. “If you’ll excuse me saying
so—l suspect you’re not very ex
perienced at it. But if you should
care to help me dry *em
They made quite a little party
out of washing and drying the meta’
Plates and the crude, iron knives
and forks. And soon it was de ; p
dark, and night winds were blowing
from the sea. This work done, the
girl started to turn away.
But she halted; and he saw her
girlish profile in the soft light of
the camp fire. ‘ Would you like to
come and sit at the door of my tent
a little while?” she asked. Her vo ; ce
was somewhat tremulous; but siis
did not try to ask herself why.
Pete glanced about him. ‘‘Camp
work is pretty well done, for to
night. I will smoke my pipe once
at your tent door, if you don’t mind.
Human companionship is very re
assuring, very necessary in th : s
North.”
She went in and sat comfortably
on her bed, while he sat at the tent
mouth. They talked easily, surpris
ingly freely while the lesser stars
were emerging, and his pipe paled
and glowed and paled again in the
gloom. She felt wholly secure and
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at peace.
“Sometimes •there is a throwback
in your speech, an accent or a
choice of world that isterests me im
mensely, Pete, ’ she told him.
don’t want to bo curious—but curi
osity is a very human trait, after
all. Sometimes I'm caused to think
that you must have known some
thisg vtry different from this—be
fore you came here,”
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"I did,” he answered quietly.
“It’s nothing unusual, up here. This
end of Alaska is a port of miss.ng
men. I don't see why the police
don’t look here first for them; a
man who wants to get away finds
himself up here before he knows it
,—or in South America.”
“And you are exiled from home?”
she asked him bluntly. Yet there"
was no hint of vulgar curiosity in |
June 18. *L
her tone. 'He turned to her with'a.
grateful smile.
“Forever. But I can blame no one
but myself. I guess I simply could
not stand civilized existence. If you
would ask the trouble, I’d say—
false standards.”
This had been the cause of Peter’s
downfall too: false standards of
wljich both Peter and herself had
I been guilty. "I’d know better
heard him say. “I’d
never sacrifice my birthright again
- —waste all I have. But that’s al*
ways the song we ekiies sing.”
1 (Continued in Our Next Issue)
The nicest thing about being a
1 poor man’s son is you don’t run any
risk of being married for your
1 money.
