Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 98, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 March 1919 — North of Fifty-Three [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

North of Fifty-Three

BefttaticP&? Sinclair

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SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—The etory opens in the town of Granville, Ontario, where Mlee Ilazel Weir is employed as a stenographer in the office of Harrington and. Bush. She Is engaged to Jack Barrow, a young real estate agent, and the wedding day is set. ■While walking with him one Sunday they kneet Mr. BUsh, Hazel’s employer, who for the first time seems to notice her attractiveness. Shortly afterward, at his request, she becomes his private stenographer. After three months Mr. Bush proposes marriage, which Hazel declines, and after a stormy scene in the office Hazel leaves her employment, Mr. Bush warning her he would make her sorry for refusing him. CHAPTER ll—Bush makes an effort, by • < lft of flowers, to compromise Hazel in the minds of her friends. She returns them. The next day Bush is thrown from his horse and fatally hurt. He sends for 'Hazel, who refuses to see him before he 'dies. Three days afterward it is announced that he left a legacy of J 5.000 to Hazel. "In reparation for any wrong I mayYiave done her.” Hazel recognizes at once what construction will be put upon the words. Bush had his revenge. CHAPTER lll—Jack Barrow, In a fit of jealous rage, demands from Hazel an explanation of Bush's action. Hazel’s pride Is hurt, and she refuses. The engagement is broken and Hazel determines to leave Granville. She sees an. advertisement for a school teacher at Cariboo Meadows, British Columbia, and secures the situation. 1 CHAPTER IV—Cariboo Meadows Is in • wild part of British Columbia and Hasel, shortly after her arrival, loses her way while walking in the woods. She wanders until night, when, attracted by the light of a campfire, she turns to it, hoping to find somebody who will guide her home. At the fire she recognizes a character Ifnown to Cariboo Meadows as "Roaring Bill Wagstaff." who had seen [her at her boarding house there. He promises to take her home in the morning, but she is compelled to spend ths night In the woods. ’ CHAPTER V— They start next day. Hazel supposes, for Cariboo Meadows, but ‘Wag’staff finally admits he is taking her to his cabin In.the mountains. He is respectful and 'Considerate and Hazel, though protesting indignantly, is helpless find has to accompany him. I CHAPTER Vl—At the cabin Wagstaff provides Hazel with clothing which had been left by tourists. There they pass the winter. Wagstaff tells her he loves Tier, but in her indignation at her "abduction” slfte refuses to listen to him. • CHAPTER Vll—With the coming of spring Hazel insists that Wagstaff take her out of the mountains. He endeavors to persuade her to marry him and stay, but on her persistent refusal, he accompanies her to Bella Coola, from where she can proceed to Vancouver.

The Drone of the Hive. A black cloud of smoke was rolling ■up from the funnel of the Stanley D. as Bill Wagstaff piloted Hazel from the gpdmy Bella Coola hotel to the wharf. I “Tb*H>o ain’t many passengers,” he told her. “They’re mostly cannery xnen. But you’ll have the captain’s [wife to chaperon you. "She happens Ito be making the trip.” ' When they were aboard and the 'cabin boy had shown them to what was dignified by the name of stateroom, Bill drew a long envelope from Ills pocket. “Here,” he said, “is a little money. I hope you won’t let any foolish pride tetand in the way of using it freely. It came easy to me. I dug it out of Mother Earth, and there’s plenty more where it came from. Seeing that I deprived ■you of access to your own money and ■all your personal belongings, you are (entitled to this any way you look at it. 'And I want to throw Jn a bit of gratuitous advice —in case you should conclude to go back to the Meadows. They [probably looked high and low for you. But there is no chance for them to learn where you actually did get to [unless you youfself tell them. The [most plausible explanation—and if you Eere you must make some explana--would be for you to say that you ost—which is true- enough—and you eventually fell in with a of Indians, and later- on cond up with a party of white {people who were traveling coastward. (That you wintered with them, and they •put you on a steamer and sent you to (Vancouver when spring opened. “That, I guess, is all,” he concluded slowly. "Only I wish”—he caught her by the shoulders and shook her gently ■—“l sure do wish it could have been different, little person. Maybe some time when I get restless for human companionship and come out to cavort in the bright lights for a while, I may pass you on a street somewhere. This world is very small. Oh, yes—when you go to Vancouver go to the Ladysmith. It’s a nice, quiet hotel in the [West end. Any hack driver knows th® •place.” i He dropped his hands, and looked [steadily at her for a few seconds, steadily ah* longingly. “Good-by!” he said abruptly—end (walked out, and down the gangplank that was already being cast loose, and eway up the wharf without a backward glance. The Stanley D.’s siren woke the •echoes along the wooded shore. A throbbing that shook her from stem Ito stern betokened the first turnings of the screw. And slowly she backed Into deep water and swung wide for the outer passage. ‘ Hazel went out to the rail. Bill Wagstaff had disappeared, but presently she caught sight of him standing on, the shore end of the wharf, his hand# thrust deep in his coat pockets, staring after the steamer. Hazel waved the envelope that she stilt held in her hand. Now that she was independent of him, [she felt magnanimous, forgiving—and (suddenly very much alone, as if she |had dropped back into the old, depressing Granville atmosphere. But he gave ilio answering, sign save that he turned

on the instant and went up the hill to where his horses stood tied among the huddled buildings. And within twenty minutes the Stanley D turned a jutting point, and Bella Coola was lost to view. Hazel went back into her stateroom and sat down on the berth. Presently she opened the envelope. There was a thick fold of bills, her ticket, and both were wrapped in a sheet of paper penciled with dots and crooked lines. She laid it aside and counted the money, “Heavens!” she whispered, “I wish he hadn’t given me so much. I didn’t need all that.” For Roaring Bill had tucked a dozen one-hundred-dollar notes in the envelope. And, curiously enough, she was not offended, only wishful that he had been less generous. Then she took up the map, recognizing It as the sheet of paper Bill had worked over so long their last night at the cabin. It made the North more clear —a great deal more clear —to her, for he had marked Cariboo Meadows, the location oT his cabin, and Bella Coola, and drawn dotted lines to Indicate the way he had taken her In and brought her out. She put away the money and the map, and bestowed a brief scrutiny upon herself In the cabin mirror. Six months In the wild had given her a ruddy color, the glow of perfect physical condition. But her garments were tattered and sadly out of date. The wardrobe of the steamer-trunk lady had suffered in the winter’s wear. She was barely presentable in the outing suit of corduroy. The Stanley D., upon the evening of the third day, turned Into Barnard Inlet and ’swept across a harbor speckled with shipping from all the Seven Seas to her berth at the dock. So Hazel came again to a city—a city that roared and bellowed all its manifold noises in her - ears, long grown accustomed to a vast and brooding silence. Mindful of Bill’s parting word, she took a hack to the Ladysmith. And even though the hotel was removed from the business heart of the city, the rumble of the city’s herculean labors reached her far into the night. At last she fell asleep, and dawn of a clear spring day awakened her. She ate her breakfast, and set forth on a shopping tour. To such advantage did she put two of the hundreddollar bills that by noon she was arrayed in a seml-tailored suit of gray, spring hat, shoes and gloves to match. She felt once more at ease, less conscious that people stared at her frayed and curious habiliments. With a complete outfit of lingerie purchased, and. a trunk in which to store it forwarded to her hotel, her Immediate activity was at an end, and she had time to think of her next move. And, brought face to face with that, she found herself at something of a loss. She had no desire to go back tc Cariboo Meadows, even to get what few personal treasures she had left behind. ' Cariboo Meadows was wiped off the slate as far as she was concerned. - Nevertheless, she must make her 'wajr. Somehow she must find a means to return the unused portion of the—to her —enormous sum' Roaring Bill had placed in her hands. She must make her own living. The question that Jroubled her was: How, and where? She had her trade at her finger ends, and the storied office buildings of Vancouver assured her that any efficient stenographer could find work. But she looked up as she walked the streets at the high, ugly walls of brick and steel and stone, and her heart misgave her. At nightfall she went up to her room and threw herself wearily on the bed. She was tired, body and spirit, and lonely. Her brief experience in Cariboo Meadows had not led her to look kindly on teaching as a means of livelihood. And stenographers seemed to be in demand. Wherefore, she reasoned that wages would be high. With the list in her purse, she went down on Hastings—which runs like a huge artery through the heart of the city, with lesser streets crossing and diverging. But she made no Application for employment. For on the corner of Hastings and Seymour, as she gathered her skirt in her hands to cross the street, someone caught her by the arm and cried: \ “Well, forevermore, If it isn’t Hazel Weir!” And she turned to find herself facing Loraine Marsh—a Granville school chum —and Loraine’s mother. Back of them, with wide and startled eyes, loomed Jack Barrow. He pressed forward while the two women overwhelmed Hazel with a flood of exclamations and questions, and extended his hand. Hazel accepted the overture. She had long since gotten over her resentment against him. She was furthermore amazed to find that she could meet his eye and take his hand without a single flutter of her pulse. It seemed strange, but she was glad of it. They stood a few minutes on the corner; then Mrs. Marsh proposed that they go to the hotel, where they could talk at their leisure and in comfort. Loraine and her mother took the lead. Barrow naturally fell into step with Hazel. “I’ve been wearing sackcloth and

ashes, Hasel,” he said humbly. “Shortly after you left, somebody on one of the papers ferreted out the truth of that Bush affair, and the vindictive old hound’s reasons for that compromising legacy were set forth. Bush appears to have kept a diary—and kept it posted up to the day of his death —poured g>ut al! his feelings on paper, and repeatedly asserted that he would win you or ruin you. And it seems that that night, after you refused to come to him when he was hurt, he called in his lawyer and made that codicil —and spent the rest of the time till he died gloating over the chances of it besmirching your character." "I’ve grown rather Indifferent about it,” Hazel replied impersonally. “But he succeeded rather easily. Even you, who should have known me better, were ready to believe the very worst.” “I’ve paid for it,” Barrow pleaded. “You don’t know how I’ve hated myself for being such a cad. But it taught me a lesson —If you’ll not hold a grudge against me. I’ve wondered and worried about you, disappearing the way you did. Where have you been, and how have you been getting on? You surely look well.” He bent an admiring glance on her. “Oh, I’ve been every place, and I can’t complain about not getting on,” she answered carelessly. For the life of her, she could not help making comparisons between the man besLde her and another who she guessed would by now be bearing up the crest of the divide that overlooked the green and peaceful vista of forest and lake, with the Babine range lying purple beyond. She wondered If Roaring Bill Wagstaff would ever, under any circumstances, have looked on her with the scornful, angry distrust that Barrow had once betrayed. Barrow’s attitude was that of a little boy who had broken some plaything In a fit of anger and was now woefully trying to put the pieces together again. It amused her. Indeed, It afforded her a distinctly un-Chrlstian satisfaction, since she was not by nature of a meek or forgiving spirit. Hazel visited with the three of them in the hotel parlor for a matter of two hours, went to luncheon wltn them, and at luncheon Loraine Marsh brought up the subject of her coming home to Granville with them. The Bush Incident Was discussed and dismissed. On the question of returning, Hazel was noncommittal. “Of course you’ll come! We won’t hear of leaving you behind. So you can consider that settled,” Loraine Marsh declared at last. “We’re going day after tomorrow. So is Mr. Barrow.” Jack walked with her out to the Ladysmith, and, among other things, told her how he happened to be in the coast city. ‘Tve been doing pretty well lately," he said. “I came out here on a deal that Involved about fifty thousand dollars. I closed It up Just this morning—and the commission would just about buy us that little house we had planned once. Won’t you let bygones be bygones, Hazle?” “It might be possible, Jack,” she answered slowly, “If it were not for the fact that you took the most effective means a man could have taken to kill every atom of affection I had for you. I don’t feci bitter any more—l simply don’t feel at all.” “But you will, 1 ’ he said eagerly. “Just give me a chance. I was a hotheaded, jealous fool, but I never will be again. Give me a chance, Hazel.” “You’ll have to make your own chances,” she said deliberately. “I refuse to bind myself In any way. Why should I put myself out to make you happy when you destroyed all the faith I had in you? And I don’t think I’m going to care—except, perhaps, in a friendly way.” And with that Barrow had to be content At dusk of the following day she and Loraine Marsh sat In a Pullman, flattening their noses against the car window, taking a last look at the environs of Vancouver as the train rolled tiflSigh the outskirts of the city. Hazel told herself that she was going home. Barrow smiled friendly assurance over the seat. Even so, she was restless, far from content. There was something lacking. At half after eight she called the porter and had him arrange her section for the night. And she got Into bed. thankful to be by herself, depressed without reason. She slept for a time, her sleep broken Into by morbid dreams, and eventually she wakened to find her eyes full of tears.’ She did not know why she should cry, but cry she did till her pillow grew moist —and the heavy feeling In her breast grew, if anything, more Intense. She switched on the tiny electric bulb over her head, and fumbled in her purse for another handkerchief. Her fingers drew forth, with the bit of linen, a folded sheet of paper, which seemed to hypnotize her, so fixedly did she remain looking at It. A sheet of plain white paper, marked with dots and names and • crooked lines that, stood for rivers, with shaded patches that meant mountain ranges she had seen—Bill Wagstaff’s map. She stared at it a long time. Then she found her time table, and ran along the Interminable string of station names till she found Ashcroft, from whence northward ran the Appian way of British Columbia, the Cariboo road, over which she had journeyed by stage. She noted the distance, and the limited’s hour of arrival, and looked at her watch. Then a feverish activity took hold of her.' She dressed, got her suitcase from under the berth, and stuffed articles into It, regardless of order. That done, she set her suitcase in the aisle, and curled herself in the

berth, with her face pressed dose against the window. , A whimsical smile played about her mouth, and her fingers tap-tapped steadily on the purse, wherein was folded Bill Wagstaff’s map. And then out of the dark ahead a cluster of lights winked briefly, the shriek of the limited’s whistle echoed up and down the wide reaches of the North Thompson, and the coaches came to a stop. Hazel took one look to make sure. Then she got softly into the aisle, took up her suitcase, and left the car. At the steps she turned to give the car porter a message. “Tell Mrs. Marsh—the lady in lower five,” she said, with a dollar to quicken his faculties, “that Miss Weir had to go back. Say I will write soon and explain.” She stood back In the shadow of the station for a few seconds. The limited’s stop was brief. When the red lights went drumming down the track, she took up her suitcase and walked uptown to the hotel where she had tarried overnight once before. The clerk showed her to a room. She threw her suitcase on the bed and turned the key In the lock. Then she went over, and, throwing up the window to its greatest height, sat down and looked steadily toward the north, smiling to herself. “I can find him,” she suddenly said aloud. “Of course I can find him !!*

And with that she blew a kiss from her finger tips out toward the dark and dtetlent North, pulled down the shade, and went quietly to bed. (TO BE CONTINUED.)