Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1898-10-12
THE GLACIERS
KEEPING.
PRETTY tough climb. isn't
\ 1t, MAXI"

L. n The speaker was a tall
Englishman of perhaps 30, but looking
as hard and tough and generally mt as
most men OF half his age.
Eyes, SIN" said the guide, who stood
before him at the inn door; land Wen
have to start early If we are to get
back the same day"
Sir Robert Ballard turned and re-
entered the room. From a desk he
pulled out sheet of paper, and pick
Ing up pen, sat down at table and
| began a letter.
MY dear Harry" he wrote, I'm
afraid | have not been quite fair to
you. Thinking over things again l can
see that your foolish pranks, which so
much offended me, may have been
| indeed, no doubt were-the results of
sheer youthful high spirits. am,
therefore, again altering my will and
instead of my cousin James Rennie be-
Ing my residuary legatee, you will find
the bulk of my property will eventual
ly come to you and that you will grow
up man worthy Of the trust | am re-
posing in you. Your affectionate uncle,
ROBERT BALLARD"
Sir Robert sealed and stamped the
letter and then on a sheet of foolscap
proceeded rapidly and with business
like precision to redraught his will.
1t seemed an easy enough matter and
took but very few minutes. You
would hardly have imagined the
amount In question was something like
ESQ. 900 or 100000.
The rapid pen ceased flying over the
paper and Sir Robert touched the bell.
Call Max Schneider" he said to the
waiter, land you, too, come in; want
you to witness this signature for me-"
He signed the document, the two
men affixed their signatures, and then
he folded 1t, placed 1t in an envelope
and slipped 1t into an inner pocket Of
his Norfolk jacket.
What time do we start tomorrow,
MAXI he asked.
Not later than half-past three SIR"
answered the guide.
Very well, then. l shall go tolbed
at once, and l suppose you'll do the
same" then to the waiter: Mind, you
call me sharp at 3. Goodnight.
Great luck having az, such lovely
wea ther-eh Max?'
Lovely, indeed, Sir Robert ;sbut pray
don't say anything about 1t till we're
clear of the Ice. It's the worst of bad
luck, Sir"
Sir Robert laughed-the ,laugh Of
strong man who is thoroughly pleased
with himself.
Indeed he had reason tQ,be pleased.
Very few men had ever climbed the
beetllng cliffs of the AiGnille Vert at
all. Fewer still could boast of having
accomplished the feat within the hours
of a single day.
Half an hour later they reached the
edge of the Ice. The sun had now set,
and the air, chill with approacftng
night, was no longer clear as il had
been. Pale wreaths of smoky mist.
hung in light bands, which seemed to-;
shift ard change ENTHUSIASTICALLY,
though no breeze was felt
Still roped together, as they hadlbeeny
during the entire climb, they crpsseds
the moraine and started steadily tramp.
Ing across the rough ice whose surface,
was broken by hundred deep friftss
and lumpy, yawning crevasses.
The fog closed and fell thickers and.
thicker
Some three hours later that;nigl,t one
Of the guides burst into thetkitel1en Of
the Montvert Inn.
His face was white andydrawn-s and
he was almost speechless swith excite-
ment. misery aud fatigue
AT last he managed to grasp tout his
piteoas story-how they had missed
their way in fog; how liz h,9i hea ri
q sharp cry of warning frym'Afax. twho