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Then he ntided hesitatingly: “There
was an old Punch aud Judy chap here
last year, but he died. Whisky again.”
“What happened to his showV"
“The Black Rook hotel man took it for
hoard and whisky bill. He has it still,
I suppose.”
I did not much relish tho business,but
I hated to see him beaten, so I ventured,
“t hnve run a Punch aud Judy In an
amateur way at tho varsity.”
H sprang to his feet with a'^ell.
“You have! You mean to say it? We’ve
got them! We’ve beaten them!” He
had ari extraordirary way of taking your
help for granted. “The miner chaps,
mostly .English and Welsh, wont mad
over the poor old showmau and made
him so wealthy that in sheer gratitude
he drank himself to death.”
He walked up and fdown in high ex
citement and in such evident delight
that I felt pledged to my best efforts.
“Well,” I said, “first the poster. We
must bent them in that.”
He brought me large sheets of brown
paper and after two hours’ hard work I
had half a dozen piotoriallshowbiils done
in gorgeouB coIoi b and striking designs.
They were good, if I do say it myself.
The turkey, the magic lantern, the
Punch and Judy show, wore all there,
the last with a crowd before it in gnp*
lug delight. A few explanatory words
.Were thrown In, emphasizing the high
ly artistic nature of the Punch and
Judy entertainment.
Craig was delighted and proceeded to
perfect his plans. lie had some half a
dozen young men, four young ladles
and eight or ten matrons upon whom
ho could depend for help. Tlieso ho or
ganized Into a vigilance committee
charged with tho duty of preventing
miners and lumbermen from getting
away to Slavln’s.
“The critical moments will bo imme
diate before and after dinner and
then ngnlu after tho show is over,” he
explained. “The first t\vo crises must
bo left to the enro of Punch and Judy,
and, as for the last, I am not yet sure
Whut shall bo done.” But I saw he had
something in his head, for ho added, “I
shall see Mrs. Mayor.”
“Who is Mrs. Mavor?” I asked.
But he made ho reply. He was a
born fighter, and he put tho fighting
Bpirlt into us all. Wo wero bound to
win.
Tho sports wero to begin at 2 o’clock.
By lunchtime everything was In readi-
less. After lunch I was having a quiet
moke in Craig’s shack when In he
ushed, saying:
“The battle will be lost before it is
night. If wo lose Quatre Bros, wo
mil never get to Waterloo.”
"What’s up?”
‘Slavln, Just now. The miners are
.pining in, and ho will have them in
tow in balk an hour.”
H6 looked at me appealingly. I knew
what he wanted.
“All right. I suppose I must, but it
Is nn awful bore that a man can’t have
quiet smoke.”
“You’re not half a bad fellow,” he
spiled, smiling. “I shall get the la-
es to furnish coffee inside the booth,
ni furnish them intellectual nourlsh-
ent in front with dear old Punch and
dy.”
Ie sent a boy with a bell round the
age, announcing, “Punch and Judy
front of the Christmas booth bo-
.* the church,” and for three-quap-
i of an hour I shrieked and sweated
iikt awful little pen. But it was
'ft worth it to hear the shouts of
»val and laughter that greeted my
rmance. It was cold work stand-
bout, so that the crowd was quite
to respond when Punch, after
luly hanged, came forward aud
all into the booth for the hot
.. which Judy had ordered,
m they trooped, and Quatre Bras
ms won.
No sooner were the miners safely en-
iged with their coffee than I heard a
eat noise of bells and of men shout-
r and on reaching the street I saw
it the men from the lumber camp
re coming in. Two immense sleighs,
orated with ribbons aud spruce
-?hs, each drawn by a four horse
gayly adorned, filled with some
men, singing and shouting with
ir ipigbt, were coming down the
d ait full gallop. Round the cor-
r swung, dashed at full speed
e bridge and down the street
•’ UP after they had made the
block, to the great admira-
onlookers. Among others,
tered up good naturedly,
iself agreeable to Sandy
k> .were helping to unhitch
led not take tremble with
me or ray team, Mike Slayin. Bntch-
ees nndme and the boys can look after
them fine,” said Sandy coolly.
This rejecting of hospitality was per
fectly understood by Slavin and by all.
“Dat’s too bad, hell?!' said Baptiste
wickedly. “And, Sandy, he’s got good
money on his pocket for sure too.”
Tho boys laughed, and Slavln, join
ing in, turned away with Keefe and
Blaney, but by the look in his .eye I
knew he was playing Br’er Rabbit and
lying low.
Mr. Craig Jnst then came up.
“Hello, boys! Too late for Punch
nnd Judy, but just in time for Lot cof
fee and doughnuts.”
“Bon l Dat’s fuss rate,” said Bap
tiste heartily. "Where you keep him?”
“TJp In the tent next tlio church
there. The miners are all in.”
“Ah! Dat’s so? Dat’s bad news for
tho shanty men, lieh, Sandy?” said the
little Frenchman dolefully.
“There were a clothesbasket full of
doughnuts and a boiler of coffee left
ns I passed Just now,” said Craig en
couragingly.
“Allons, raes garcons. Vitel Never
say keel!” cried Baptiste excitedly,
stripping off the harness.
But Sandy would not leave tho horses
till they were carefully rubbed down,
blanketed and fed, for he was entered
for tho four horse raco, and It behoov
ed him to do his best to win. Besides,
he scorned to hurry himself for any
thing so unimportant as eating. That
he considered hardly worthy even of
Baptiste. Mr. Craig managed to get
a word with him before he went off,
and I saw Sandy solemnly and em
phatically shake his head, saying: “Ah,
we’ll bent him this dayl” And I gath
ered that he was added to the vigilance
committee.
Old man Nelson was busy with his
own team. Ho turned slowly at Mr.
Craig’s greeting. “How is it, Nelson?”
And it was with a very grave voice he
answered:
“I hardly know, sir, but I am not
gone yet, though it seems little to hold
to.”
“All you want for a grip Is what your
hand can cover. What would you hnve?
And, besides; do you know why you
are not gone yet?”
The old man waited, looking at the
minister gravely.
“Because he hasn’t let go his grip of
you.”
“How do you know he’s gripped me?”
“Now, look here, Nelson, do you want
to quit this thing and give it all up?”
“No, no—for heaven’s sake, no! Why,
do you think I have lost it?” said Nel
son almost piteously.
“Well, he’s keener about It than you,
and I’ll bet you haven’t thought it
worth while to thank him.”
“To thank him,” be repeated almost
stupidly, “for”—
“For keeping you where you are over
night,’’-said Mr. Craig qlmqst sternly.
The old man gazed at the minister, a
light growing in his eyes.
“You’re rlgbtl .Thank God, you’re
right!”
And then he turned quickly away and
went Into the stable behind his team.
It w»s a minute before he came out
Over his face there Was a trembling
joy.
“Can’t I do anything for you today?”
he asked humbly.
“Indeed you jHist can,” said the min
ister, taking his hand and shaking It
very warmly, nnd then he told him
Slavln’s programme nnd ours.
“Sandy is all right till after his race.
After that is his time of danger,” said
the minister.
“I’ll stay with him, sir,” said old Nel
son in the tone of a man taking a cove
nant nnd immediately set off for the
coffee tent.
“Here comes another recruit for your
corps,” 1 said, pointing to Leslie
Graeme, who was coming down the
street at that moment in- his light
sleigh.
“I am not so sure. Do you think
you could get him?”
I laughed. “You are a good one.”
“Well,” he replied half defiantly,
“is not this your fight too?”
“You make me think so, though I
am bound to say I hardly recognize
myself -today. But here goes.” And
before 1 knew it I was describing our
plans to Graeme, growing more and
more enthusiastic as be sat in his
sleigh, listening with a quizzical smile
I didn’t quite like.
“He’s got you, too,” he said. “I fear
ed so.”
“Well,” I laughed, “perhaps so. But
I want to lick that man Slavln. I’ve
just seen him, and he’s just what Craig
cajls him, ‘a slick son of the devil.*
(Don’t be shocked. He says It is Serip-
t«#. H —
M
'’Revised version," said Graeme
gravely, while Craig looked a little J
abashed. y
“What Is assigned me, Mr. Craig? |
For I know that this man is simply
your agent.”
1 repudiated the Idea, while Mr. Craig
said nothing.
"What’s my part?” demanded
Graeme.
“Well,” said Mr. Craig hesitatingly,
“of course I would do nothing till I
had consulted you, but I want a man
to tuke my place at the sports. I am
referee.”
“That’s all right,” said Graeme, with
nn air of relief. “I expected something
hard.”
“And then 1 thought you would not
Blind presiding at the dinner. I want it
to go off well.”
“Did you notice that?” said Graeme
to me. “Not a bad touch, eh?”
“That’s nothing to the way he touch
ed me. Wait and learn,” I answered,
while Craig looked quite distressed.
“He’ll do it, Mr. Craig, never fear,” I
said, “and any other little duty.”
“Now, that’s too bad of you. That is
all I want, honor bright,” he replied,
adding ns lie turned away: “You are
just in time for a cup of coffee, Mr.
Graeme. Now I must see Mrs. Mavor.”
“Who Is Mrs. Mavor?” 1 demanded
of Graeme.
“Mrs. Mavor? The miners’ guardian
angel.”
Wo put up the horses and set off for
coffee. As we approached the booth
Graeme caught sight of the Punch and
Judy show, stood still in amazement
and exclaimed:
“Can the dead live?”
“Punch and Judy never die,” I re
plied solemnly.
"But the old manipulator Is dead
enough, poor old beggarl”
“But he left bis mantle, as you see.”
He looked at me a moment
“What? Do you mean you”—
“Yes; that is what I do mean.”
“He is a great man, that Gralg fellow,
a truly great man.”
And then he leaned up against a tree
and laughed till the tears came.
“I say, old boy, don’t mind me," he
gasped, “but do you remember the old
varsity show?”
“Yes, you villain, and I remember
your part in It. I wonder how you can
even at this remote date laugh at It.”
For I had a vivid recollection of how,
after a “chaste and highly artistic per
formance of this mediaeval play” had
been given before a distinguished To
ronto audience, the trapdoor by which
I had entered my box was fastened and
I was left to ^welter In my cage and
forced to listen to the suffocated laugh
ter froiiff the wings and the stage whis
pers of “Hello, Mr. Punch, where’s the
baby?” And for many a day after I
was subjected to anxious Inquiries as
to the locality and health of “the baby”
and whether It was able to be out.
“Oh, the dear old days!” he kept say
ing over nnd over In a tone so full of
endless that my heart grew sore for
him aud I forgave him, as many a time
before.
The sports passed off In typical west
ern style. In addition to the usual
running and leaping contests, there
was rifle nnd pistol shooting, In both
of which old Nelson stood first, with
Shaw, foreman of the mines, second.
Tho greut event of the day, however,
was to be the four horse race, for
which three teams were entered—one
from the mines, driven by Nixon,
Craig’s friend; a citizens' team and
Sandy’s. The race was really between
the miners’ team and that from the
woods, for the citizens’ team, though
made up of speedy horses, had not
been driven much together and knew
neither their driver nor one another.
In the miners’ team were four bays,
very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps,
but well matched, perfectly trained and
perfectly handled by their driver. Sandy
had his long, rangy roans aud for lead
ers a pair of half broken pinto bron
chos. The pintos, caught the summer
before upon the Alberta prairies, were
fleet as deer, but wicked and uncertain.
They were Baptiste’s special care aud
pride. If they would only run straight,
there was little doubt that they would
carry the roans and themselves to glo*
ry, but one could not tell the moment
they might bolt or kick things to
pieces.
Being the only nonpartisan in the
crowd, I was asked to referee. The
race was about half a mile and return,
the first and last quarters being upon
ice. The course after leaving the ice
led up from the river by a long, easy
slope to the level above and at the
farther end curved somewhat sharply
round the old fort. The only condi
tion attaching to the race was that the
teams should Start from the scratch,
make the turn of the fort and finish at
the scratch. There were no vexing
regulatibns as to fouls. -The man mak
ing the foul would find it necessary
to reckon with the crowd, which was
considered sufficient guarantee for a
fair and square race. Owing to the
hazards of the course, the result would
depend upon the skill of the drivers
quite as much as upon the speed of
the teams. The points of hazard were
at the turn round the old f6ft and at a
little ravine which led down to the
river, over which the road passed by
means of a long log bridge or cause-
way. .
i?rom a po<rt upon the high bank o
the river the' ^hole course lay in ope,
view It wal\. scene full of life am
Vividly picturesque. There were min-
ers in dark clotles and peak caps, citi-
zens in ordinal garb, ranchmen in
•wide cowboy bafy and buckskin shirts
i£’d leggings, som& with cartridge belts
ant. pistols; a fewW lf breed9 and ln ‘
dianiP j n half naive, half civilized
dress; an ^ ) Bcatttting through the
crowd, +he ’lumherrmn with gay scarlet
and blue blanket colts and some with
knitted toqt.. es of th\ same colors. A
very good na\> U red bVt extremely un
certain crowd it , was.? At the bead of
each horse stood \a, mm, hut at the
pintos’ heads Baptiste stood alone, try
ing to hold down the; off ieader, thrown
into a frenzy of fear-by the yelling of
the crowd.
Gradually all became' quiet till, in the
midst of absolute stillness, came the
words, “Are you ready?”', then the pis
tol shot, and the great \race began.
Above the roar of the crowd came the
shrill cry of Baptiste as he struck bis
broncho with the palm of bis jaand and
swung himself into the sleigh beside
Sandy as it shot past.
Like a flash the bronchos spi-ang to
the front two lengths before the other
teams; but, terrified by the yelling
crowd, instead of bending to the left
bank, up which the road wound, they
wheeled to the right and were almost
across the river before Sandy could
swing them back into the course.
Baptiste’s cries, a curious mixture of
French and English, continued to
strike through all other sounds till they
gained the top of the slope, to find the
others almost a hundred yards in front,
the citizens’ team leading, with the
miners’ 'following close. The moment
the pintos caught sight of the teams
before them they set off at a terrific
pace and steadily devoured the inter
vening space. Nearer and nearer the
turn came, the eight horses in front
running straight and well within their
speed. After them flew the pintos, run
ning savagely, with ears set back, lead
ing well the big roans, thundering along
and gaining at every bound. And now
the citizens’ team had almost reached
the fort, running hard and drawing
away from the bays. But Nixon knew
what he was about and was simply
steadying his team for the turn.
The event proved his wisdom, for in
the turn the leading team left the
track, lost a moment or two In the
deep snow, and before they could re
gain the road the bays had swept su
perbly past, leaving their rivals to fol
low In the rear. On cn.me the pintos,
swiftly nearing the fort. Surely at
that pace they cannot make the turn.
But Sandy knows his leaders. They
have their eyes upon the teams in front
and need no touch of rein. Without
the slightest change in speed the nim
ble footed bronchos round the turn,
hauling the big roans after them, and
fall in behind the citizens’ team, which
is regaining steadily the ground lost In
the turn.
And now the struggle Is for the
bridge over the ravine. The bays In
front, running with months wide open,
are evidently doing their best. Behind
them and every moment nearing them,
but at the limit of their speed, too,
come the lighter and fleeter citizens’
team, while opposite their driver are
the pintos, pulling hard, eager and
fresh. Their temper is too uncertain
to send them to the front. They run
well following, but when leading can
not be trusted, and, besides, a broncho
hates a bridge; so Sandy holds them
where they are, waiting and hoping for
his chance after the bridge is crossed.
Foot by foot the citizens’ team creep
up upon the flank of the bays, with the
pintos in turn hugging them closely, till
it seems as if the three, if none slack
ens, must strike the bridge together,
and this will mean destruction to one
at least. This danger Sandy perceives,
but he dare uot check his leaders. Sud
denly within a few yards of the bridge
Baptiste throws himself upon the lines,
wrenches them out of Sandy’s hands
and, with a qdick swing, faces the pin
tos down the steep side of the ravine,
which is almost sheer ice with a thin
coat of snow. It is a daring course to
take, for the ravine, though not deep,
is full of undergrowth and is partially
closed up by a brush heap at the far
ther end. But, with a yell, Baptiste
hurls his four horses down the slope
and into the undergrowth. “Allons,
mes eufants! Courage! Vitel Vite!”
cries their driver, and nobly do the pin
tos respond.
1’ J BiS .CONTINUED.
A Helpless Child.
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