Jasper County Democrat, Volume 22, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1919 — North of Fifty-Three [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

North of Fifty-Three

By Bertrand W. Sinclair

' (Ccj»rl<bl Uj UIU«. Brvwn * SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—The story opens tn ths town of Oranvllle, Ontario, where Mls« Hasel Weir Is employed as a stenographer In the office of Harrington and Bush. She la engaged to Jack Barrow a young roaJ estate agent, and the wedding day Is set. While walking with him one Sunday they meet Mr. Bush. Hasel'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 Hasel decline,, and after a stormy acene In the office Hasel leaves her employment, Mr. Bush warnlpg her he would make her sorry for refusing him. CHAPTER ll—Bush makes an effort, by a gift of flowers, to compromise Hasel In the minds of her frtenda 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 16.000 to Hazel. "In reparation for any wrong I may have done her.” Hazel recognizes at once what construction will be put upon the words. Bush had his revsnsa. CHAPTER lll—Jack Barrow, In a fit c’ jealous rage, demands from Hazel an explanation of Bush’s action. Hazel's pride l«s hurt and she refusea The engagement is broken and Hazel determines to leave Granville. She sees an advertisement for a school teacher at Carfboc Meadows, British Columbia, and eecures the situation. CHAPTER IV—Cariboo Meadows Is In a wild part of British Columbia and Hagel. 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 U. hoping to find somebody who will guide her home. At the fire she recogntees a character known to Cariboo Meadows as “Roaring Bill Wagstaff.” who had seen her at her boarding house therepromises to take her home In th e morning, but she is compelled to spend the night In the woods. miPTBR V-r-They start next day. Hazel supposes, for Cariboo Meadows, but Wagstaff finally admits he Is taking her to his cabin In the mountains He tore ■nectful and considerate and Hazel, though protesting indignantly, is helpless and has to accompany him. ' 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 ■seer, but in her Indignation at her abduction” sltto refuses to listen to him. CHAPTER Vll—With the coming of spring Hazel Insists that Wagstaff take fer out of the mountains. He endeavors to persuade her to marry him and stay, but on her persistent refusal, he *£comher to Bella- Cooln. from where Bhe can proceed to Vancouver. CHAPTER VHT-On wives Hazel a package which she dIB P'?X ers later contains 11.200 and a map which trill enable her to find her way to the eabln If she desires to go back. At Vancouver Hazel plans to return to *j ra P vllle. but on the train.’^ aal e 3 love# Wagstaff, and decides to go to him. Fheleaves the train at the first stop. CHAPTER TX—With the aid of Bill’s map she finds her way back, and the patr travel to a Hudson Bay post and are married After some months they oecioe ♦o eo farther Into the mountains to a ■Sofsrhere Bill Is confident there is gold. CHAPTER X—After an arduous trip, •which severely tries Hazel’s strength, they arrive at their destination and settle down for the long winter. CHAPTER XI— Wagstaff builds a cabin and a stable for the horses and cuts and stacks sufficient hay to last-until “PrlngFood there is In plenty. Hazel. the danger, allows sparks from the chimney to set fire to the stable, which is Consumed, with all the 3t °£ keen the animals from death by starva tlon Bill Is compelled to shoot them. CHAPTER Xll—With the first spring days they start prospecting for gold and are lucky. With the gold, and packs of furs, the product of Bill’s trapping during the winter, they start back to the cabin they call home.

CHAPTER XIII. The Stress of the Trail. ’ Roaring Bill dumped his second pack 'on the summit of the Klappan, and 'looked away to where the valley that opened out of the basin showed Its blurred hollow In the distance. But he uttered no useless regrets. With horses they could have ridden south through a rolling country, where every tetretch of timber gave on a grassgrown level. Instead they were forced back over the rugged route by which they had crossed the range the sumTner before. Grub, bedding, furs and gold totaled two hundred pounds. On his sturdy shoulders Bill could pack half that weight. For his wife the thing was a physical Impossibility, even had he permitted her to try. Hence every mile advanced meant that he doubled the distance, relaying from one camp to the next. They cut their bedding to a blanket apiece, and that was Hazel’s load —all he would allow her to carry. “You’re no pack mule, little person," he would say. “It don’t hhrt me. I’ve done this for years.” But even with., abnormal strength and endurance, It was killing work to buck those ragged slopes with a heavy load. Only by terrible, unremitting effort could he advance any appreciable distance. They were footsore, and their bodies ached with weariness that verged on pain when they gained the pass that cut the summit of the Klappan range. k “Well, we’re over the hump,” Bill remarked thankfully. “It’s a downhill shoot to the Skeena. I don’t think it’s more than fifty or sixty miles to where we can take to. the water.” ' They made better time on the western slope, but the journey became a matter of sheer endurance. Food was scanty—flour and salt and tea; with meat and fish got by the way. And the black flies and mosquitoes swarmed about them maddeningly day ,and night.

Bo they came at laat to the Skeena, and Hagel's heart misgave her when aha took note at its swirling reaches, the sinuous eddies—a deep, swift, treacherous stream. Bat Bill restef overnight, and In the morning sought and felled • sizable cedar, and began to hew. Slowly the thick trunk shaped Itself to the form of a boat under -the steady swing of his ax. In a week It was finished. Thej loaded the sack of gold, the bundle ol furs, their meager camp outfit amid ships, and swung off Into the stream. The Skeena drops fifteen hundred feet In a hundred miles. Wherefors there are rapids, boiling stretches ol white water In which many a goof canoe has come to grief. Some ol these they ran at Imminent peril. Ovet the worst they lined the canoe from the bank. And In the second week of July they brought up at the head of Klsplox (janon. Hazelton lay a few miles below-. But the Klsplox stayed them, a sluice box cut through old stone. In which the waters raged with a deafening roar. No man ventured Into that wild gorge. They abandoned the dugout BUI slung the sack ol gold and the bale of furs on his back. •‘lt’s the last lap. Hazel,” said he. “We’ll leave the rest of It for the first Siwash that happens along.” So they set out bravely to trudgt the remaining distance. And as the fortunes of the trail sometimes be-

fall, they raised an Indian canfp oq the bank of the river at the month of the canon, A ten-dollar bill made them possessors of another canoe, and an hour later the roofs of Hazelton cropped up above the bank. “Oh, Bill,” Hazel called from the bow. “Lookl There's the same old steamer tied to the same old bank. We’ve been gone a year, and yet the world hasn’t changed a mite. I winder if Hazelton has taken a Rip van Winkle sleep all this time?” / “No fearjf he smiled. “I can see some new houses —quite a few, In sac And look—by Jlmlny! They’re working on the grade. That railroad, remember?” He drove the canoe alongside a float. A few loungers viewed them with frank curiosity. Bill set out the treasure sack and the bale of furs, and tied the canoe.

“A new hotel, by Jove!” he remarked, when upon gaining the level of the town a new two-story building blazoned with a huge sign its function as a hostelry. “Getting quite metropolitan in this neck of the woods. Say, little person, do you think you can relish a square meal? Planked steak and lobster salad —huh? I wonder If they could rustle a salad in this man’s town? Say, do you know Im just beginning to find out how hungry I am for the flesh-pots. Aren’t you, hon?” , She was; frankly so. For long, monotonous months she had been struggling against just such cravings, Impossible of realization, and therefore all the more tantalizing. She had been a year In the wilderness; and the wilderness had not only lost Its glamor, but had become a thing to flee from. She bestowed a glad pressure on her husband’s arm as they walked up the street, Bill carrying the sack of gold perched carelessly on one shoulder. “Say, their enterprise has gone the length of establishing a branch bank here, I see.” He called her attentlqp to a squarefooted edifice. Its new-boarded walls as yet guiltless of paint, except where a row of black letters set forth that It was the Bank of British North America. “That’s a good place to stow this bullion,” he remarked. “I want to get It off my hands.” So to the bank they bent their steps. A solemn, horse-faced Englishman weighed the gold, and Issued Bill a receipt, expressing a polite regret that lack of facility to determine Its fineness prevented him from converting It Into cash. „ “That means a trip to Vancouver, Bill remarked outside. “Well, we can stand that.” From the bank they went to the hotel, registered, and were shown to a room. For the first time since the summit of the Klappan Range, where her tiny hand glass had suffered disaster, Hazel was permitted a clear view of herself In a mirror. “I’m a perfect fright I” she mourned; “Huh!” Bill grunted. “You’re all right. Look at me.” < The trail had dealt hardly with both. In the matter of their personal appearance. Tanned to an abiding brown, they were, and Hazel’s one-time smooth face was spotted with fly bites and marked with certain scratches

suffered in the brush as they skirted the Klsplox. Her hair had lost its ■leek, glossy smoothness of arrangement. Her hands were reddened and rough. But chiefly she was concerned with the sad state of her apparel. She had come a matter of ffiur hundred miles In the clothes on her back —and they bore unequivocal evidence of the journey. “I’m a perfect fright." she repeated pettishly. “One’s' manners, morals, .clothing, and complexion all suffer from too close contact with your beloved North, Bill.” “Thanks!” he returned shortly. I suppose I’m a perfect fright, too. Long hair, whiskers, grimy, calloused hands, apd all the rest of It. A shave and a hair cut, a bath and a new suit of clothes will remedy that. But Til be the same personality In every essential quality that I was when I sweated over the Klappan with a hundred pounds on my back." * ’ “I hope so,” she retorted. “I dont require the shave, thank goodness, but I certainly need a bath —and clothes. I wish I had the gray suit that’s probably getting all moldy and moth-eaten at the Pine River cabin. I wonder If I can get anything fit to wear here?’’ “Women live here,” Bill returned quietly, "and I suppose the stores supply ’em with duds. Unllmber that bank roll of yours, and do some shopping." She sat on the edge of the bed, regarding her reflection in the mirror with extreme disfavor. Bill fingered his thick stubble of a beard for a thoughtful minute. Then he sat down beside her. "What’s a mollah, hon?” he wheedled. "What makes you such a crosser patch all at once?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she answered dolefully. “I’m tired and hungry, and I look a fright—and—oh, just everything." “Tut, tut!" he remonstrated goodnaturedly. “That’s just mood again. We’re out of the woods, literally and figuratively. If you’re hungry, let’s go and see what we can make this hotel produce In the way of grub, before we do anything else.” “I wouldn’t go Into their diningroom looking like this for the world," she said decisively. “All right; you go shopping, then,” he proposed, “while I take these furs up to old Hack’s place and turn them into money. , Then we’ll dress, and make this hotel feed us the best they’ve got. Cheer up. Maybe It was tough on you to slice a year out of your life and leave It in a country where there’s nothing but woods and eternal silence—but we’ve got around twenty thousand dollars to show for It, HazeL And one can’t get something for nothing. There’s a price mark on It somewhere, always. my good little pal—and see If you can’t make one of these stores dig up a white waist and a black skirt, like you had on the first time I saw you." ’ He kissed her, and went quickly out And after a long time of sober staring at her Image In the glass Hazel shook herself ftnpatiently. “I’m a silly, selfish, Incompetent little beast,” she whispered. “Bill ought to thump me, Instead of being kind. I can’t do anything, and I don't know much, and I’m a scarecrow for looks right now. And I started out to be a real partner.!’

She wiped an errant tear away, and made her way to a store. The stock of ready-made clothing drove her to despair. It seemed that what women resided In Hazelton must invariably dress in Mother Hubbard gowns of cheap cotton print with other garments to match. But eventually they found for her undergarments of a sort, a waist and skirt, and a comfortable pali*of shoes. Hats, as a milliner would understand the term, there were none. And in default of such she stuck to the gray felt sombrero she had worn into the Klappan and ouj again—which, In truth, became her very well, when tilted at the proper ( angle above her heavy black hair. Then she went back to the hotel, and sought a bathroom. Returning from this she found Bill, a Bill all shaved and shorn, unloading himself of sundry packages of new attire. “Aha, everything is lovely,* he greeted. "Old Hack jumped at the pelts, and paid a fat price for the lot. Also the ranch deal has gone through. He s a prince, old Hack. Sent up a man and had It surveyed and classified and the deed waiting for me. And—oh, say, here’s a letter for you.” “For me? Oh, yes,” as she looked at the handwriting and postmark. “I wrote to Loraine Marsh when we were going north. Good heavens, look at the date —it’s been here since last September 1” “Hackaberry knew where we were,” Bill explained. “Sometimes In camps like this they hold mail two or three years for men that have gone Into the Interior.” She put aside the letter, and dressed while Bill had his bath. Then, with the smoke and grime of a hard trail obliterated, and with decent clothes upon them, they sought the diningroom. There, while they waited to be served, Hazel read Loraine Marsh’S letter, and passed It to Bill with a self-conscious little laugh. “There’s an Invitation there we might accept,” she said casually. He returned the letter as the waitress brought their food. "Wouldn’t it be nice to take a trip home?” Hazel suggested thoughtfully. “I’d Ibve to.” “We are going home.K Bill reminded gently. “Oh, of course,” she smiled. “But I mean to Granville. I’d like to go back there with you for a while, just to —just to —’’ “To show ’em.” he supplied laconically.

“Oh. BIU 1” sfie poutea. Nevertheless, she could not deny that there was a measure of truth in bis brief remark. She did want to “show ’em." She looked acres the table at her husband, and thought to herself with proud satisfaction that she had done well. Viewed from any angle whatsoever, BUI Wagstaff stood head and shoulders above all the men she bad ever known. Big. physically and mentally, dean-minded and capable—indubitably she had captured a lion, and, though she might have denied stoutly the imputation, she wanted Granville to see her Hon and hear him roar. “Still thinking Granville?" Bill queried, when they had finished an uncommonly allent meal. Hazel flushed slightly. She was, and momentarily she felt that she should have been thinking of their Uttle nest up by Pine River Puss instead. She knew that Bill was homing to the cabin. She herself regarded it with affection, but of a different degree from his. Her mind was more occupied with another, more palpitating circle of Use than was possible at the cabin, much as she appreciated its green and peaceful beauty. The sack of gold lying in thu bank had somehow opened up far-flung possibilities. She skipped the Interval of affairs which she knew must be attended to, and betook herself and Bill to Granville, thence to the bigger, older cities, where money shouted in the voice of command, where all things were possible to those who had the price. But she was beginning to know this husband of hers too well to propose anything of the sort abruptly. Behind his tenderness and patience she had sometimes glimpsed something Inflexible, unyielding as the wilderness he loved. So she merely answered : “In a way, yes.” “Let’s go outside where I can smoke a decent cigar on top of this fairly decent meal," he suggested. "Then we’U figure on the next move. I think about twenty-four hours in Hazelton will do me. There’s a steamer goes down-river Four days later they stood on the deck of a grimy little steamer breasting the outgoing tide that surged through the First Narrows. Presently they swung around Brockton Point, and Vancouver spread its peninsular clutter before them. Tugs and launches puffed by, about their harbor traffic. A ferry clustered black with people htirrled across the Inlet. But even above the harbor noises, across the Intervening distance they could hear the vibrant hum of the Industrial hive. She had no regrets when Bill confined their stay to the time necessary to turn his gold Into a bank account, and allow her to buy a trankful, more or less, of pretty clothes. Then they bore on eastward and halted at Ash-

croft. Bill had refused to commit himself positively to a date for the eastern pilgrimage. He wanted to see the cabin again. For that matter she did, too—so that their sojourn there did not carry them over another winter. From Ashcroft an auto stage whirled them swiftly Into the heart of the Cariboo country—to Quesnelle, where Bill purchased four head of horses in an afternoon, packed,, saddled, and hit the trail at daylight in the morning. The vanguard of the land hungry had already penetrated to Fort George. Up and down the Nachaco valley, and bordering upon the Fraser, were the cabins of the pre-emptors. The roads were dotted with the teams of the Incoming. A sizable town had sprung up around the old trading post. “They come Ike bees when the rush starts,” Bill remarked. Leaving Fort George behind, they bore across country toward Pine river. Here and there certain landmarks, graven deep In Hazel’s recollection, uprose to claim her attention. And one evening at sunset they rode up to the little cabin, all forlorn In Its clearing. Inside, a gray filrn of dust had accumulated on everything, and the rooms were oppressive with the musty odors that gather In a closed, untenanted house. But apart from that It stood as they had left it thirteen months before. No foot had crossed the threshold. The pile of wood and kindling lay beside the fireplace as Bill had placed it the morning they left. “IBe It ever so humble,Bill left the fine of the old song unfinished, but his tone was full of jubilation. Between them they threw wide every door and window. «fl?he cool evening wind filled the placp with sweet, plnegcented air. Then Bill started, a blaze

roanng in tne niack-mouthed fireplace —to make it look natural, he said — and went out to hobble his horse* for the night In the morning they began to unpack their household goods. Rugs and bearskins found each its accustomed place upon the floor. Hla books went back on the shelves. With magical swiftness the cabin resumed its oldhome atmosphere. And that night Bill stretched himself on the grlssly hide before the fireplace, and kept his nose in a book until Hasel, who was In no humor to read, fretted herself into something approaching a temper, “You’re about as sociable as a clam,* she broke Into his absorption at last. He looked up in surprise, then chucked the volume carelessly aside, and twisted himself around till his head rested In her lap. “Vot Iss?" he asked cheerfully. “Lonesome? Bored with yourself? Ain’t I here?- Surely you don’t feel yourself neglected because I happen to have my nose stuck in a book?" “Of course not I” she denied vigorously. The childish absurdity of her attitude struck her with sudden fore*. “Still, I’d like you to talk to me one* in a while." Bill's eyes narrowed a trifle, but he still smiled. And suddenly he stepped around behind her chair, put both hands under her chin, and tilted her head backward. “Ah, yeu’re plumb sick and tired to death of everything, aren’t you?" he said soberly. “You’ve been up here too long. You sure need a change. I’ll have to take you out and give you the freedom of the cities, let you dissipate und pink-tea, and rub elbows with the mob for a while. Then you’ll be glad to drift back to this woodsy hiding place of ours. When do you want to start?" “Why, Bill I” she protested. But she realized in a flash that Bill Could read her better than she could read herself. Few of her emotions could remain long hidden from that keenly observing and mercilessly logical mind. She knew that he guessed where she stood, and by what paths she httd gotten there. Trust him to know. And it made her very tender toward him that he was so quick to understand. Most men would have resented. X “I want to stack a few tons of hay," he went on, disregarding her exclamation. “I’ll need it in the spring, if not this winter. Soon as that’s done we’ll hit th* high spots. We’ll take three or four thousand dollars, and while it lasts we'll be a couple of—of highclass tramps. Huh? Doe* it sound good?" Hhe nodded vigorously. “Perk up, then," he wheedled. “Bill-boy,” she murmured, “you mustn’t take me too seriously." “I took yon for better or for worse," he answered, with a kiss. “I don’t want it to turn out worse. I want you to be contented and happy here, where I’ve planned to make our home. I know you love me quite a lot, little person. .Nature fitted us In a good many ways to be mates. But you've gone through a pretty drastic siege of isolation in this rather grim country, and I guess it doesn’t seem such an alluring place as it did at first I don't want you to nurse that feeling until it becomes chronic. Then we would be out s os tune, and it would be good-by happiness. But I think I know the (jure for your malady." In the morning he began his hay cutting. About eleven o’clock he threw down his scythe and stalked to the house.

“Put on your hut, and let’s go investigate a mystery,” said he. "I heard a eow bawl in the woods a minute ago. A rugular barnyard bellow.”/ “A cow bawling?” she echoed. “Sure? What would cattle be doing away up here?” “That’s what I want to know?” Bill laughed. “I’ve never seen a cow north of Fraser—not this side of the Rockies, anyway.” ' They saddled their horses, and rode out In the direction fig»m whence had arisen the bovine complaint. The sound was aot repeated, and Hazel had begun to chaff Bill toovivld Imagination when within a half mile of the clearing he pulled his horse up short in the mKldle of a little meadow. “Look!’’ The track of a broad-tired wagon had freshly crushed the thick grass. Bill squinted at the trail, then his gaze swept the timber beyond. “Somebody has been cutting timber over there,” he enlightened. “I can see the fresh ax work. Looks like they’d been hauling poles. Let’s follow this track a ways.” The tiny meadow was fringed on the north by a grove of poplars. Beyond that lay another clear space of level land, perhaps forty acres in extent. They broke through the belt of poplars—and pulled up again. On one side of the meadow stood a cabin, the fresh-peeled log walls glaring yellow in the sun, and lifting an earth-covered roof to the autumn sky. Bill whistled softly. Along the west side of the meadow •ran a brown streak of sod, and down one side of this a man guided the handles of a plow drawn by the strangest yokemates Hazel’s eyes had seen for many a day. “For goodness’ sake 1” she exclaimed. “That’s the true‘pioneer spirit for you,” Bill spoke absently. VHe has bucked his way into the heart of d virgin country, and he’s breaking with a mule and a cow. That's adaptation to environment with a vengegrit.lt “There’i» t. woman, too, Bill. And see —she’s carrying a baby?” Hazel pointed excitedly* “Oh, .Bill I” The man halted his strangely assorted team to watch them come. The

woman stood a step outside th* door, a baby in her arm*, another toddtal holding fast to her skirt A thldb bodied, short, square-shouldered *M was this newcomer, with a pleasant face. “Hello, neighbor 1" Bill greeted. The plowman lifted hi* old felt hat courteously. His face lit up. “Achl" said he. “Neighbor. Dal iss a goot word in diss country veg* dere iss no neighbor. But I am glat to meet you. VIII you some do da* house und rest a v’ile?" “Sure I" Bill responded. “But w*ra neighbors, all right Did you notice a cabin about half a mile west of here? That’s our place—when we’r* at home.* “So?" The word escaped with the peculiar rising inflection of the Teuton. “I half saw dot cabin ven va come here. But I dink it vass abandon. Veil, let us to der house go. Id vlll rest der mule —und Gretchen, der cow. Hah I” He rolled a blue eye on his incongruous team, and grinned widely. “Come," he Invited; “mine vise be glat.* > They found her a matron of thirty* odd; fresh-cheeked, round-faced tike

her husband, typically German, without his accent of the Fatherland. Hazel at once appropriated the baby. It lay peacefully In her arms, staring •wide-eyed, making soft, gurgly sound*. "The little dear I" Hasel murmured. “Lauer, our name Iss," the man saia casually, when they were seated. "Wagstaff, mine is," Bill complete the informal introduction. “I am from Bavaria," Lauer told him. “Vlll you smoke? I light mtn* 1 blbe —mlt your vise’s permission. “Yes,” he continued, stuffing th* bowl of his pipe with a stubby for*finger, “I am from Bavaria. Per* X. vass upon a furm brought oop. I ***T in der army my dime. Den Amerigo. Dere I marry my vise, who is bora la, Mllvaukee. I vork in' der big brrewerios. Afder dot I learn to b* a carpenter. Now lam a kink, mlt a castl* all mine own. I am no more a vag* slate." “kou’re on tho right track," Bill nodded. “It’s a pity more people don’t take the same notion. What do you think of this country, anyway?”

“It iss goot,” Lauer answered briefly, and with unhesitating certainty. “It iss goot. Vor der boor man it ios - it iss salfatlon. Mlt fife huntret tollars und hiss two hunts he can himself a home make —und a fifing be sure off.X Beside Hazel, Lauer’s wife absently caressed the blond head of her four-year-old daughter. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever get lonasome,” she said. “I’m too glad to bn here. And I've got lots of work and my babies. Of course, it’s natural Pd miss a woman friend running in now and then to chat. But a person can’t have it all. And I’d do anything to have a roof of our own, and to hava it some place where our livin’ don’t depend on a pay envelope. Many a time I’ve sat and cried, just from thinkin’ how bad I wanted a little place of our own, where there wan grass and trees and a piece Of ground for a garden. And I knew we’d new be dble to buy it. We couldn’t get ahead enough.”

“Und so,” her husband took up the tale, “I hear off diss country, vere lant can be flfrr noddlngs got. Und ho wo scrape und pinch und safe nickels und dimes for fife year. Und here ve are. All der way from Visconsln in der vaigon, yes. Mlt two mules. In Ashcroft I buy der cow, so dot ve has der fresh milk. Und dot iss lucky. For von mule he die on der road. So I am plaw oop der lant und haul my valgon mlt von mule und Gretchen der cow.* Hazel had a momentary vision of unrelated hardships by the way, and she wondered how the man could laugh and his wife smile over it. Two thousand miles In a wagon 1 And at the journey’s end only a rude cabin of logs—and years of steady toil. Isolation In a huge and lonely land. Yet these folk were happy. She wondered briefly if her own viewpoint were possibly askew. She knew that she could not face such a prospect except in utter rebellion. Not now. The bleak peaks of the Klappan jpse up before her mind’s eye, the picture of five horses dead in the snow, the wolves that snapped and snarled over tljpir bones. She shuddered. She was still pondering this when she and Bill dismounted at home. * (TO BE CONTINUED.) The business of the London stock exchange, under peace conditions exchange, under peace conditions reevery day.

“Oh Bill,” Hazel Called from the Bow. “Look!”

Four Days Later They Stood on the Deck of a Grimy Little Steamer.

Hazel at Once Appropriated th* Baby.