The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1899-11-03
HE LOST HIS BALANCE AND FELL.


the show He knows every inch of the
coast, and I've every confidence in him;
so you need have no qualms, dear, that
shall not be back safe after dark"
As he mentioned the name of his
guide Jessie looked up suddenly and
seemed about to speak, then appeared
to alter her mind, and was silent.
$50, ta-ta, dearest" he went on,
bending down and fondly kissing the
sweet lips upturned to his. must be
off. "The tide will be on the turn soon
and it's a good two miles row."
The wreck toward which the little
boat was rapidly cutting its way was
all that remained of the schooner Bon
ME Belle. A year ago she had been
driven by a storm on to a sunken rock.
At high tide merely few feet of her
sole remaining stump Of a mast was
visible, but at low water she was only
partially submerged.
AS VIII Preston lay back in the stern
Of the boat lingering the tiller ropes he
could not but admire the stalwart
figure in front of him. Jem Barclay
was a young fisherman, living down in
the village about mile from Jessie
Poole's lonely cottage. Over six feet
in height, and proportionately broad,
his muscles stood out like bands of
steel as he pulled untirlngly at the
oars.
Soon they reached the wreck, and, as
1t was now low tide, the boat was pull
ed alongside, and they clambered up to
the slippery deck. The schooner was
but mere shell after ali, and as VIII
peered down through what had once
been the hatchway nothing was to be
seen but the inky blackness Of the water
in the hold. He was startled from his
reverie by laugh from his companion
"a man wouldna do much good, Mr..
Preston, once he got down there, eh?'
There was something in the mans
tone that Jared unp'easaptly upon the
artists ear, and he answered shortly:
mo; think he could say good-by to
life"
"Then you can say good-by to yours,
for that's where you're going, my fine
gentlemanv
VIII Preston turned quickly round in
amazement at the words, when, with
an oath, Barclay flung himself upon
him, and bore him backward. The
back of his head struck the deck with
crash, and he lost consciousness.
When his senses slowly came back
to him he found himself propped up
with his arms against the mast, his
arms passed backward round 1t, and
his hands tightly bound together at the
other side. His cap had been forced
into his mouth, and his handkerchief
bound tightly round, forming a most
efficient gag. Before him stood Jem
Barclay, his arms folded and his black
eyes flashing triumphantly.
"You see, I've changed my mind" he
began. at seemed pity to chuck you
down in t hold. You wouldn't ha' had
time to think over things. Oh, yes, l
know she refused me a year ago, but
I'd ha' won her right enough in time
If you hadn't come with your fine ways
and oily tongue. Now I'm going to
wish you good-by. It'B be high tide at
9 O'Clock, and then t. sea win be foot
aboon your head. Happen you'd like to
see how the time goes, though. Well,
you shall"
He took his knife from his pocket and
drove the point into the mast a few
inches above his victims head. Then
he approached the artist with the in
tention of taking his watch from his
pocket to hang 1t upon the improvised
hook, but Preston, though his hands
were tied, had the use of his feet, and
as his tormentor came within reach he
lunged out with all his force.
Taken unawares. the man sprang
backward to avoid the blow. and. for.
getful of the hatchway behind him
lost his balance and fell down 1t. In
/ falling he turned half around and. with
sickening thud. his temple came In
contact with the further side Of the
opening as he fell