Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 May 1904 — The Blazed Trail By STEWART EDWARD WHITE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Blazed Trail By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapter I—Morrison & Daly, lumbermen on the Saganaw waters of Michigan, drive a hard banraln with Radway. a eontraetor. II and lll—Harry Thorpe, having left his dependent sister Helen, at service, tries for work at Morrison A Daly's, fails and takes a job at choring until he can go to Radway's camp. IV—Thorne at Radway's making lumber road. The men attempt haxing. Thorne puts on the gloves and knocks out the champion. V and Vl—Radway running behind owing to slack management. Thorpe a •‘swamper. Death of his chum, Paul. The men "chip in for the widow." Radway goes home for Christmas, leaving Dyer, the sealer, hi charge. VII and Vlll—Long delay waiting for roads to freeze. Thorpe hurt and sent to Sisters' hospital. Radway fails Thorpe out of work. IX—Thorpe demands pay of M. A D. for work done Dy Radway. The contract was illegal, and the firm have profited by the workdoue. M. AD. settle the account. X—Thorpe provides for Helen's education and goes into the north woods to locate valuable tract. Makes a friend of Injun Charley and a Chicago boytoiirist, Wallace Carpenter. XI and Xll—Wallace has capital and helps Thorpe buy land. Dyer, the old scaler for Radway, is out looking for land for M. & D. Thorpe goes to Detroit to head otf his rivals' laud purchase. XIII and XlV—Wallace sends telegraph order to Thorpe at the land office just in time to head off M.A D. in a *30.000 purchase. M. A D. offer to buy. Thorpe won't sell. War declared. XV and XVl—Tim Shearer, former foreman for M. & D„ hires with Thorpe. Thorpe takes forcible possession of a dock M. & D. have built abutting his new purchnse. The rival firms agree to work in harmony. XVII— M. A D. close a gate in the dam above Thorpe's logs. Thorpe puts out a sentinel with a Winchester. Mischief ends, but M. A D. bring two suitsaginst Thorpe. XVIII, XIX. XXand XXl—Thorpe has a poor case in court, but he buys a government tract which M. A D. have robbed of timber, to play off against them. Wallace loses heavily in speculation, and Thorpe’s firm puts up *60,000 to save him. Five years pass, and Thorpe is bewitched by a dream girl. XXII and XXlll—Hilda Farrand reaches the woods with a party, including Wallace's sister. Hilda is an heiress, and Wallace urges Thorpe to win her. Love in the forest. Hilda saw Thorpe leave Detroit for the woods and always loved him.

CHAPTER XXl—Continued.

Once he took them over id see Camp One. They were Immensely pleased and were correspondingly loud in exclamations. Thorpe’s comments were brief and dry. On the way back for the first time Thorpe found that chance—and Mrs. Cary—had allotted Hilda to his care. A hundred yards down the trail they encountered Phil. The dwarf stopped short, looked attentively at the girl and then softly approached. When quite near to her he again stopped, gazing at her with his soul in bis liquid eyes. ‘‘You are more beautiful than the sea at night,” he said directly. The others laughed. “There’s sincerity for you. Miss Hilda,” said young Mr. Morton. “Who is he?” asked the girl after they had moved on. “Our chore boy,” answered Thorpe, with great brevity. The rest of the party had gone ahead, leaving them sauntering more slowly down the trail. “Why don’t you come to the pine grove any more?” he asked bluntly. “Why?” countered Hilda in the manner of women. “I want to see you there. I want to

talk with you. I can’t talk* with all that crowd about.” *TII come tomorrow,” she said; then with a little mischievous laugh, ‘‘lf that'll make you talk.” “You must think I’m awfully stupid,” agreed Thorpe bitterly. “Ah, no; ah, no!” she protested softly. “You must not say that.” She was looking at him very tenderly, If he had only known it, but he did not, for his face was set in discontented lines straight before him. "It is true,” he replied. They walked on in silence, while gradually the dangerous fascination of the woods crept down on them. Just before sunset a hush falls on nature. The wind has died; the birds have not yet begun their evening songs; the light itself seems to have left off sparkling and to lie still across the landscape. Such a hush now lay on their spirits. Over the way a creeper was, droning sleepily a little chant, the only voice in the wilderness. In the heart of the man, too, a little voice raised itself alone. > "Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart!” It breathed over and over again. After awhile he said in a half voice,

“No, no; hush!” said the girl. And she laid the soft, warm fingers of one hand across his Ups and looked at him from a height of superior soft eyed tenderness as a woman might look at a child. ‘‘You must not. It is not right-” Then he kissed the fingers very gently before they were withdrawn, and she said nothing at all in rebuke, but looked straight before her with troubled eyes.

CHAPTER XXIII. mHORPE returned to Camp One shortly after dark. He found there a number of letters, among which was one from Wallace Carpenter. After commending the camping party to his companion’s care the young fellow went on to say that affairs were going badly on the board. “Some interest that I haven’t been able to make out yet has been hammering our stocks down day after day,” he wrote. “I don’t understand It, for the stocks are good and intrinsically are worth more than Is bid for them right now. Some powerful concern is beating them down for a purpose of its own. Sooner or later they will let up, and then we’ll get things back in good shape. lam amply protected now, thanks to you, and am not at all afraid of losing my holdings. The only difficulty is that I am unable to predict exactly when the other fellows will decide that they have accomplished whatever they are about and let up. It may not be before next year. In that case I couldn’t help you out on those notes when they come due. So put in your best licks, old man. You may have to pony up for a little while, though of course sooner or later I can put it all back. Then, you bet your life, I keep out of it Lumbering's good enough for yours truly. “By the way, you might shine up to Hilda Farrand and join the rest of the fortune hunters. She’s got it to throw to the birds and in her own right Seriously, old fellow, don’t put yourself into a false position through ignorance; not that there is any danger to a hardened old woodsman like you.” Thorpe went to the group of pines by the pole trail the following afternoon because he had said he would, but with a new attitude of mind. He had come into contact with the artificiality of conventional relations, and it stiffened him.

They sat down on a log. Hilda turned to him with her graceful air of confidence. “Now talk to me," said she. “Certainly," replied Thorpe in a practical tone of voice. “What do you want me to talk about?” She shot a swift, troubled glance at him. concluded herself mistaken and said: “Tell me about what you do up here —your life—all about it” “Well,” replied Thorpe formally, “we haven’t much to interest a girl like you. It is a question of saw logs with us.” And he went on in his dryest, most technical manner to detail the process of manufacture. It might as well have been bricks. The girl did not understand. She was hurt. As surely as the sun tangled in the distant pine frond, she had seen in his eyes a great passion. Now it was coldly withdrawn, “What has happened to you?” she asked finally out of her great sincerity. “Me? Nothing,” replied Thorpe. A forced silence fell upon him. Hilda seemed gradually to lose herself in reverie. After a time she said softly: “Don’t you love this woods?” “It’s an excellent bunch of pine,” replied Thorpe bluntly. “It'll cut 3,000,000 at least” “Oh!” she cried, drawing back, her hands pressed against the log either side of her, her eyes wide. After a moment she caught her breath convulsively, and Thorpe became conscious that she was studying him furtively with a quickening doubt After that, by the mercy of God, there was no more talk between them. Unconsciously the first strain of opposition and of hurt surprise relaxed. Each thought vaguely his thoughts. Then in the depths of the forest, perhaps near at hand, perhaps far away, a single hermit thrush began to sing. His song was of three solemn, deep, liquid notes, followed by a slight rhetorical pause as of contemplation, and then deliberately three notes more on a different key. It is the most dignified, the most spiritual, the holiest of woods utterances. Combined with the evening shadows and the warm soft air it offered to the heart an almost irresistible appeal. The man’s artificial antagonism modified, the woman’s disenchantment began to seem unreal. Then subtly over and through the bird song anotbep sound became audible. At first it merely repeated the three notes faintly like an echo, but with a rich, sad undertone that brought tears. Then timidly and still softly it elaborated the theme, weaving In and out through the original three the glitter and shimmer of a splendid web of sound, spreading before.the awakened Imagination a broad river of woods imaginary that reflected on Its surface all the subtler moods of the forest With the first sigh of the wonder music the girl had started and caught her breath at the exqulsite_pleasure of It

As It went on they both forgot everything but the harmony and each other. “Ah, beautiful!” she murmured. “What la It?” he whispered, marveling. “A violin—played by a master.” The bird suddenly hushed, and at once the strain abandoned the woods note and took another motif. At first It played softly In the higher notes, a tinkling, lightsome little melody that stirred a kindly surface smile over a full heart. Then suddenly, without transition. It dropped to the lower register and began to sob and wall In the full vibrating power of a great passion.

And the theme It treated was love. At last the poignant ecstasy seemed slowly, slowly to die. Fainter and fainter ebbed the music. Through it as through a mist the solemn aloof forest began to show to the consciousness of the two. They sought each other’s eyes, gently smiling. The music was very soft and dim and sad. They leaned to each other, with a sob; their lips met; the music ceased. And over behind the trees, out of the light and the love and the beauty, little Phil huddled, his great shaggy head bowed in his arms. Beside him lay his violin and beside that his bow, broken. He had snapped it across his knee. That day + he had heard at last the

heart song of the violin and, uttering it, had bestowed love. But he had that day lost what he cared for most in all the world—his friend. Little Phil disappeared utterly, taking with him his violin, but leaving hls broken bow. Thorpe has it even to this day. The lumberman caused search and inquiry on all sides. The cripple was never heard of again. “I saw you long ago,” said Hilda to Thorpe—“long, long ago, when I was quite a young girl. I had been visiting in Detroit and was on my way all alone to catch an early train. You stood on the corner thinking, tall and straight and brown, with a weather beaten old hat and a weather beaten old coat and weather beaten old moccasins, and such a proud, clear, undaunted look on your face. I have remembered you ever since.” A nil then he told her of the race to and office, while her eyes grew n r and brighter with the epic i*.- ; :.dor of the story. She told him that she had loved him from that moment, and believed her telling, while he, the unsentimental leader of men, persuaded himself and her .that he had always in some mysterious manner carried her image prophetically In his heart So much for the love of it In the last days of the month of delight Thorpe received a second letter from his pnrtner, which to some extent awakened him to the realities. "My dear Harry,” it ran, “I have made a startling discovery. The other fellow is Morrison. I have been a blind, stupid dolt and am caught nicely. You can't call me any more names than I have already called myself. Morrison has been in It from the start. By an accident I learned he was behind the fellow who induced me to invest, and it is he who had been hammering the stock down ever since. They couldn’t lick you at your game, so they tackled me at mine. I’m not the man you are, Harry, and I’ve made a mess of it. Of course their scheme plain enough on the face of It. going to Involve me so deeply that I will drag the firm down with me.

“If you can fix It to meet those notes, they can’t do It. I have ample margin to Cover any more declines they may be able to bring about. Don’t fret about that Just ns sure as you can pay that $60,000, just so sure we’ll be ahead of the game at this time next year. For heaven’s sake, get a move on you, old man. If you don’t the firm ’ll bust because she can’t pay. I*ll bust because I’ll have to let my stock go on margins. It’ll be an awful smash. But you’ll get there, so we needn’t worry. I’ve been an awful fool, and I’ve no right to do the getting into trouble and leave you to the hard work of getting out again. But as partner I'm going to insist on your having a salary,” etc. . The news aroused all Thorpe’s martial spirit Now at last the mystery surrounding Morrison & Daly’s unnatural complaisance was riven. It had come to grapples again. He was glad of it. He thrust the letter in his pocket and walked buoyantly to the pines. The two lovers sat there all the afternoon drinking In half sadly the Joy of the forest and of being near each other. In a week the camping party would tie breaking up, and Hilda must return to the city. It was uncertain when they would be able to see each other again.

Suddenly the girl broke off and pot her fingers to her lips. For some tima dimly an intermittent and faint sound had been felt rather than actualM heard, like the Irregular muffled ing of a heart. Gradually it had ed on the attention. , “What is it?" she asked. Thorpe listened. ’ Then his face lit mightily with the Joy of battle. “My axmen,” he cried. “They ar» cutting the road.** A faint call echoed. Then without* warning nearer at hand, and the sharp! ring of an ax sounded through the for* est i I (TO BE CONTINUED.)

A ceremonious adieu to the solemn trees.

They sought each other’s eyes.