The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-03-06

| 'hJ w y Oo u uOSC DdCh
all the heat? 1t isn't worth while.
Not that 1 care"- glancing about her
little doubtfully-"because l shall
be left alone"
1T was so absolutely silly of me
that I'm going" said Miss Merton,
and she hurried up the slope.
| Rossiter, in the meanwhile. had
picked his way with much caution
through the thicket, gained the
more open wood, though everywhere
there was considerable underground,
and come out upon the logging-road.
He walked on for perhaps hundred
PAGES, when he emerged into little
glade where the rillet from the
| spring Joined a larger brook. Here
fallen tree made so inviting rest
ing-place that he seated himself, in
| tending to resume his wanderings af-
| ter few moments. AS he glanced
aimlessly about him he spied small
hickory sapling of arrowy straight
ness which he fancied he would like
for staff; accordingly he took from
his pocket the large knife with which
Jack Parmelee had supplied him for
cutting hop-vines, snapped back the
single blade, and approached the min
iature tree. He had bent it over and
made the first incision when wo-
mans scream-unmistaka cry of
terror - penetrated with startling
clearness the forest quietude, and it
came from the direction of the
spring. So quickly did Rossiter leap
back that the boughs of the released
sapling had no time to whip his face.
Into his pocket went the knife-he
was sorry afterward he had not kept
it in his hand-and he raced up the
wood-road with the speed of the run
ner who overcame Atalanta. When he
had compassed half the distance be-
tween the glade and the bend another
scream rang out, more full of fright,
it seemed to him, than the first. In
vain he strove to quicken his pace.
He was already sprinting at the top
of his bent. Just before he reached
the turn he was conscious that some
one was running towards him, but
who it was he could not see, owing to
the underground. He heard gasps of
labored breathing, and then Miss
Densmore appeared before him, wild
eyed, her hair half unbound, her face,
despite her exertions, as pale as
bleached linen. Behind her, not more
than ten feet distant, his repellant
countenance exultant, rushed a man
"Whiskers!"
The girl on the instant recognized
Rossiter, and moan Of despair es-
capped her. She slackened her speed
for just breath in her uncertainty,
and Dawson's outstretched hand al
most gripped her shoulder. Then it
flashed upon her who this was before
her, and with a glad cry she sprang
towards him. Intent upon the girl,
her pursuer had given Rossiter no
heed, and suddenly found himself in
that young mans grip and was hurled
backward with such force that he
stumbled and fell upon the sward.
"You damnable hound!" the pole
puller cried, standing over him with
clenched fists.
"Whiskers" made no response, but
returned Rossiter's Infatuated gaze
with disgusting leer.
"Get up!" commanded the young
man.
The vagrant rose slowly to his feet.
let his eyes rove furtively first to one
side and then to the other, as though
it were his intention to take to his
heels, and then suddenly sprang with
an enraged snarl at Miss Densmore's
rescuer.
"Want her yerself, do We, Charlie?
By God, we sh'n't have her!"
So sudden was the onslaught that
Rossiter would have been overborne
had he not suspected some such move.
ment on Dawson's part and been in
measure prepared. He shifted his
position slightly to meet the attack,
and swung out with blow which,
had it landed fairly, would have given
the ruffian his quietus then and there.
1t was turned aside, however, by an
Up3ifted arm, and the next moment
Htsssiter felt a steely clamp upon his
throat. He tore away his assailant's
hand by desperate effort, but he
had cause to remember those terri
hAe fingers for days afterwards. The
two men now stood cycling one an
other, and as Rossiter moved step
to gain a firmer foothold, for the
ground was uneven and spongy, he
was conscious of Miss Densmore not
far distant crouching against tree.
Don't stand therei" he cried to
her. "Run for Gods Sakei"
He had come to realize that, strong
rs he knew himself to be, the strength
of the man confronting him was
something greater. The soaring grip
upon his throat told it's startling tale.
And, moreover, he had not to deal
with creature moved by the ordi-
nary human emotions, but with a
reused and Infatuated beast, terrible
with beasts unrestrained passions.
The sound of Miss Densmore's foot
steps was the signal for Dawson to
renew the attack. His hairy face
was lowered, and seemed to sink be-
tween his shoulders. With powerful
arms outstretched, he hurled himself
towards Rossiter like a hideous
taking the CLEAN in his eyes. In his
present mood to come within the
grasp of those arms meant a speedy
closing to life's chapter.
"Run!" cried Rossiter once more to
the girl.
He would at least so manage the
encounter that Miss Densmore would
hova 20 haryan1