Jasper County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1912 — BUBHIKG MM.IGHT [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

BUBHIKG MM.IGHT

BY JACK LONDON

Author Of "The Call 0e The V/lS FANGVFfifTTnFDEK FTC Illustrations By Dearborn Melvtil

. BYNQPSIB. I.—Elam Harnish, known mJ*.. .. rou ? h Alaska as “Burning Daycelebrates his 30th birthdav with e £ dly ,. cr ° wd of Miners at the Circle City Tivoli. He is a general favorite, a nero and a pioneer In the new gold fields. ±P® , dance leads tv heavy gambling in which over SIOO,OOO is staked. Harnish loses his money and his mine but wins we mail contract of the district. COPTER IT.—Burning Daylight starts on his trip to deliver the mail with dogs anp sledge. He tells his friends that the gold strike will soon be on e T intends to be in it at the start. ’■ ith Indian attendants and dogs he dips over the bank and down the frozen lukon and in the gray light is, gone. CHAPTER lll.—Harnish makes a sensationally rapid run across country with the mail, appears at the Tivoli and there is anotner characteristic celebration. He fies made a record against, cold- and exhaustion and is now ready to Join his triends in a dash to the new gold fields. CHAPTER IV.—Harnish decides where the gold will be found in the up-river distinct and buys two tons of flour, which he declares will be worth Its weight Ingold before the season is over. ■» CHAPTER V.— when Daylight arrives with his heavy outfit of flour he finds the big flat desolate. A comrade discovers gold and Harnish reaps a rich harvest. He goes to Dawson, begins investing in corner lots and staking other miners and becomes the most prominent figure in the Klondike. CHAPTER Vl.—Hamish makes fortune Kt r fortune. One lucky investment enables him to defeat a great combination of capitalists in a vast mining deal. He determines to return to civilisation and gives a farewell celebration to his friends that is remembered as a kind of blaze of glory. 3-HAPTER Vll.—The papers are full ' P.*. T* l6 ? f tl l e Klondike.” and Day- i hffht is feted by the money magnates of the country. They take, him into a big copper deal and the Alaskan pioneer , finds himself amid the bewildering com- ! plications of high .finance. CHAPTER Vlll.—Daylight is buncoed py the moneyed men and finds that he has been led to Invest his eleven millions ln a ™ an, Pulated scheme. He goes to i Meet his disloyal business partners at their offices in New York City. CHAPTER IX.—Confronting his partners with a revolver In characteristic i frontier style, he threatens to kill them if his money is not returned. They are I cowed into submission, return their stealings and Harnish goes back to San Fran- i cisco with his unimpaired fortune. CHAPTER X.—Daylight meets Ms fate * p ,..Eede Mason, a pretty stenographer with a crippled brother, whom she cares i for. Harnish Is much attracted towards her and Interested in her family affairs. ■ CHAPTER Xl.—He becomes an element ‘ In large investments on the Pacific coast and gets Into the political ring. For a rest he goes to Inspect one oftriis properties in the country and momentarilv is attracted back to the old life on the lone- I some trail. *^U’ —Daylight gets deeper dee £ er nt ? * dsrb finance In San Francisco He makes frequent runs into the , countn- thus getting close to nature h™ ™?l* 18 Z* 111 ,n the trend. ° ~£ n - however, the longing for the simple life well nigh overcomes him. :

CHAPTER XH!. '■ 'V' "■■■: ■' ■ One Sunday, late in the afternoon, found Daylight across the bay in ths Piedmont hills of Oakland. As usual, he was in a big motor car, though not his own, the guest of Swiftwater Bill, Luck’s own darling, who had come down to spend the clean-up of the seventh fortune wrung from the frozen Arctic gravel. It was a merry party, and they had made a merry day of it, circling the bay from San Francisco around by San Jose and up to Oakland, having been thrice arrested for speeding, the third time, however, on the Haywards stretch, running away with their captor. Fearing that a telephone message to arrest them had been flashed ahead, they had turned into the back-road through the hills, and now, rushing in upon Oakland by a new route, were boisterously discussing what disposition they should make of the constable. “We’ll come out at Blair Park in ten minutes,” one of the men announced. “Look here, Swiftwater, there’s a cross-roaid right ahead, with lots of gates, but It’ll take us backcountry into Berkeley. Then we can come back into Oakland from the oth er side, sneak across on the ferry, and send the machine back around tonight with the chauffeur.” But Swiftwater Bill failed to see why he should not go into Oakland by way of Blair Park, and so decided. The next moment, flying around a bend, the back-road they were not going to take appeared. Inside the gate, leaning out from her saddle and just closing it, was a young woman on a chestnut sorrel. With his first glimpse, Daylight felt there was something strangely familiar about her. The next moment, straightening up in the saddle with a movement he could not fail to identify, she put the horse into a gallop, riding away with her back toward them. It was Dede Mason —he remembered what Morrison had told him about her keeping a riding horse, and he was glad she had not seen him in this riotous company. Intervening trees at that moment shut her from vieW, and Swiftwater Bill plunged into the problem of disposing of their constable, w’hlle Daylight, leaning back with closed eyes, was still seeing Dede Mason gallop off down the country road. On Monday morning, coming in for dictation, he looked at her with new interest, though he gave no sign of it; and the stereotyped business passed off in the stereotyped way. But the following Sunday found him qd a

horse himself, across the bay and riding through the Piedmont hills. He made a long day of it, but no glimpse did he catch of Dede Mason, though he even took "the back-road of many gates and rode on into Berkeley. It had been a fruitless day, so far as she was concerned; and yet not entirely fruitless, for he bad enjoyed the open air and the home under him to such purpose that, on Monday, his instructions were out to the dealers to look for the best chestnut sorrel that money could buy. At odd times during the week he examined numbers of chestnut sorrels, tried several and was unsatisfied. It was not till Saturday that he came upon Bob. Daylight knew him for what he wanted the moment he laid eyes on him. A large horse for a riding animal, he was none too large for a big man like Daylight In splendid condition, Bob’s coat in the sunlight was a flame of fire, his arched neck a jewelled conflagration. Daylight examined the mane and found it finer than any horse’s hair he had ever seen. Also, its color was unusual in that it was almost auburn. While he ran his fingers through it, Bob turned his head and playfully nuzzled Daylight’s shoulder. “Saddle him up, and I’ll try him,” he told the dealer. “I wonder if he’s used to spurs. No English saddle, mind. Give me a good Mexican and a curb bit —not too severe, seeing as he likes to rear.” Daylight superintended the preparations, adjusting the curb strap and the stirrup length, and doing the cinching. He shook his head at the martingale, but yielded to the dealer’s advice to allow it to go on. And Bob, beyond spirited restlessness and a few playful attempts, gave no trouble. Nor in the hour’s riding that followed, save for some permissible curveting and prancing, did he misbehave. Daylight was delighted; the purchase was immediately made; and Bob, with riding gear and personal equipment, was dispatched across the bay forthwith to take up his quarters in the stables of the Oakland Riding Academy. The next day being Sunday, Daylight was away early, crossing on the ferry and taking with him Wolf, the leader!of his sled team, the one dog which he had selected ito bring with him when he left Alaska. Quest as he would through the Piedmont hills and along the many-gated back-road to Berkeley, Daylight saw nothing of Dede Mason and her chestnut sorrel. But he had little time for disappointment, for his own chestnut kept him busy. At the end of half an hour of goodness Daylight, lured into confidence, was riding along at a walk and rolling a cigarette, with slack knees and relaxed seat, the reins lying on the animal’s neck. Bob whirled abruptly and with lightning swiftness; pivoting on his hind legs, his fore legs just lifted clear of the ground. Daylight kept his seat, but, beyond a futile rein across the neck, did nothing to prevent the evolution. “Well, Bob," he addressed the animal, at the same time wiping the sweat from his owqfeyes, “I’m free to confess that you’re sure the blamedest all-fired quickest creature l ever saw. I guess the way to fix you is to keep the spur just a-touching—ah! you brute!” 1 For, the moment the spur touched him, his left hind leg had reached forward in a kick that struck the stirrup a smart blow. Several times, out of curiosity. Daylight attempted the spur, and each time Bob’s hoof landed the stirrup. Then Daylight, following the horse’s example of the unexpected, suddenly drove both spurs into hint and reached him underneath with the quirt. “You ain’t never had a real licking before,” he muttered, as Bob, thus rudely jerked out of the circle pf his own impish mental processes, shot ahead;

Half a dozen times spurs and quirt bit into him. and then Daylight settled down to enjoy the magnificent gallop. No longer punished, at the end of a half mile Bob eased down into a fast canter. Wolf, toiling the rear, was catching up, and everything was going nicely. And when, at last, Daylight decided that the horse had had enough, he turned him around abruptly and put him into a gentle canter on the forward track. After a time, he reined in to a stop to see if he were breathing painfully. Standing for a minute, Bob turned his head and nuzzled his rider’s stirrup in a roguish, impatient way. as much as to intimate that it was time they were going on. ell, I’ll be plumb gosh darned!” was Daylight’s comment. “No ill-will, no grudge, no nothing—and after that lambasting! You’re sure a hummer, Bob.” He had taken a liking to the animal, and repented not of his bargain. He realized that Bob was not vicious nor mean, the trouble being that he was bursting with high spirits and was endowed with more than the average horse’s intelligence. It was the spirits and the intelligence, combined with inordinate roguishness, that made him what he was. What was required to control him wps a strong hand, with tempered sternness and yet with the requisite touch of brutal dominance. Throughout the week Daylight found himself almost as much interested in Bob as in Dede; and, not being in the thick of any big deals, he was probably more interested in both of them than in business game. Bob’s trick of whirling was of special moment to him. How to overcome it — that was the thing. Suppose he did meet with Dede out in the hills; and suppose by some lucky stroke of fate, he should manage to be riding alongside of her; then that whirl of Bob’s

would be most disconcerting and embarrassing. He was not particularly anxious for her to see him thrown forward on Bob’s neck. On the other hand, Suddenly to leave her and go dashing down the back-track, plying quirt and spurs, wouldn’t do, either. What was wanted was a method wherewith to prevent that lightning whirl. He must stop the animal be fore it got around. The reins would not do this. Neither would the spurs. Remained the quirt. But how to accomplish it? Bob always whirled to the right. Very well. He would double the quirt in his hand, and, the instant of the whirl, that double quirt would rap Bob on the nose. The horse didn’t live, after it once learned the lesson, that would whirl in the face of the doubled quirt.

More keenly than ever, during that week in the office, did Daylight realize that he had no social, nor even human contacts with Dede. The situation was such that he could not ask her the simple question whether or not she was going riding next Sunday. Thus he found another card in the hand the mad god had dealt him. How important that card was to become he did not dream, yet he decided that it was a pretty good card.

Sunday came, and Bob, out in the Piedmont hills, behaved like an angel. His goodness at times was of the spirited, prancing order, but otherwise he was a lamb. But no Dede did Daylight encounter. He vainly circled about among the hill roads, and in the afternoon took the steep grade over the divide of the second range and dropped into Maraga Valley. Just after passing the foot of the descent, he heard the hoof beats of a cantering horse. It was from ahead and coming toward him. What if it were Dede? He turned Bob around and started to return at a walk. The canter came nearer, but he faced straight ahead until he heard the horse behind check to a walk. Then he glanced over his shoulder. It was Dede. The recognition was quick, and, with her, accompanied by surprise. What more natural thing than that, partly turning his horse, he should wait till she caught up with him; and that, when abreast, they should continue abreast on up the grade? He could have sighed with relief. The thing was accomplished, and so easily. Greetings had been exchanged; here they were side by side and going in the same direction with miles and miles ahead of them.

He noted that her eye was first for the horse and next for him. “Oh, what a beauty!” she had cried at sight of Bob. From the shining light in her eyes, and the face filled with delight, he would scarcely have believed that it belonged to the young w’oman he had known in the office, the young woman with the controlled, subdued office face

I dlijn t know you rode,” was one iof her first remarks. “I imagined you were wedded to get-there-quiek machines.” Thus, and to his great relief, they launched on a topic of mutual interest. He told her about Bob’s tricks, and of the whirl and his scheme to overcome it: and she agreed that horses had to be handled with a certain rational severity, no matter how much one loved them. There was Mab, which she had had for eight years, and which she had had to break pf stall-kicking The process had been’ painful for Mab, but it had .cured her. “You’ve ridden a lot,” Daylight said. I really can’t remember the tuui time 1 was on,a horse.” she told him. “I was born on a ranch, you know, and they couldn’t keep me away from the horses."

And thereat she told him more of her ranch life in the days before her father died. And Daylight was hugely pleased with himself. They were getting acquainted. The conversation had not lagged in the full half hour they had been together. When she talked, he listened and followed her, and yet all the while he was following his own thoughts and impressions as well, it was a nervy thing for her to do this riding astride, and he didn’t know, after all, whether he liked it or not. His ideas of women were prone to be old-fashioned; they Were the ones, he had imbibed in the early day, frontier life of his youth, when no woman was seen on anything but a side-saddle. He had grown up to the tacit fiction that women on horseback were not bipeds. It came to him with a shock, this sight of her so manlike in her saddle. Hut he had to confess that the sight looked good to him just the same.’ (To be Continued.)

Here Was a Man Who Laughed at City Dweilers and Called Them Lunatics.

It Was Dede.