St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-10-26
DICK PROTHEROE'S LUCK,
Story Of the Great Northwest by Grant Allen, Author
Of "The Tenets of Shem"

made toward home across the open
] prairie.
As he did so a sickening horror seized
upon his soul. He looked in front of
HIM and shaded his eyes, incredulouS.
Great heavens, what he saw was all too
true. No farm house was visible.
Other houses were there. to be sure,
! each standing in its place over the vast
plain, at wide intervals. and each
marked by the long, blue line of smoke,
where ''smudges" or fly dispensers we're
burning in front of them to keep off the
mosquitoes. A smudge, in Northwest
ern parIance. is fire of turf kept alight
in sort of standing iron cage or basket.
which shoulders away for hours at a
time, and is peculiarly offensive to the
senses of insects. But. though the
smudge still smoked in front of the
place where his own house had
once stood forth, not a sign of the
house itself remained anywhere visible
Dick shaded his eyes ana looked in vain.
1t had melted from the scene as if by
magic.
At the sight the strong mans heart
sank down with horror and awe within
him. He knew what it meant; he was
too old hand, indeed, in the wilds of
Manitoba not to realize at a glance
what terrible, unspeakable thing had
happened. The house had been burned
down to the ground in his absence.
And Bertha? And Daisy? He grew
pale with terror. Unless Archie had
saved them. heaven only knew what
nameless misfortune might have fallen
upon them. And Archie was away in
the Swale with the wagon.
With wild cry of despair the I'M
happy man urged his horse forward and
never paused for breath till he drew
rein at last by the smuudering remains
of his charred and desolate farm house.
There the whole truth came upon him
in all its awful vividness.
In front of the yard the smudge lay on
the ground overturned and still feebly
burning. From the Smudge to the spot
where the house once stood path of
fire lay traced on the dry grass, widen
ing from windward. Even in the first
burst OF his horror and grief the poor,
trembling husband and father felt in
Stinctiyely just what had occurred.
Rollo, tho. pointer, had upset the
smudge, and the fire had run from it be-
fore the wind through the parched grass
and set in blaze the frail timber tene-
| ment.
! The rest was obvious. Those frame
| houses of the West, when once alight.
UuIll W JIG SIOuuu Will dW1 III ldptultE
| in a few brief minutes. Constructed
as they are of light pitch pine. Atwood
Ell throughout. and slight into the bar
! gam, they leave at the end of a quarter
of an hour nothing to mark the spot
where they once stood save q pile of
gray and smOuldering ashes. - %
That was all that remained of Dick
Prothero'S home. And Bertha and Daisy
! must have been burnt or smothered be-
! fore they could move from the sOfa1by
| the window. -sta
| Unnamed with horror, Dick leaped
| from his horse and strobe over to the
Smouldering, smoking ruins. For
minute OF two he was stupefied by the
; awful Suddenness of that crushing blow.
He sat down on the ground. with his
head in his hands, and rocked himself
| idly to and fro in the first full bitterness
| of his speeches. agony.
| And the very last words little Daisy
had said to him as he rode away were !:
FUN back soon, papa. Daisy wants
to play with 'oo.'' 49,.