The Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1903-1909, 1905-03-14

eral moments overcome with his own
emotions, at last said:
Laura, it's your noble, sanguine ma
hope against hope. But, alas! it is
useless for you to feed yourself on
hopes longer. | know 1t must be true,
for men whose word | cannot doubt
tell me, and it must be true. But
Laura. whatever may happen, believe
me, | will ever be your friend. Let me
weep with you over your loss!"
Don't, don't talk SO! You brighten
mel" she gasped.
Brighten you, darling?" he whisp-
cred. Brighten you? Oh, if you
knew the pangs Of this hearth you
only knew how tenderly devoted | am
to YOU If you only knew how willingly
| would change places and lie in the
unknown mountain tomb until the
sounding of that great trump which
shall wake the dead, you would not
have the least cause for fear"
"Hush-hush! Don't talk SOL"
She was stunned and confused by
his impassioned speech. Poor girl,
alone in an unknown forest, with
madman-no wonder she was fright
ened.
She had started up from the camp
stool and taken a step toward the
door of the tent as if she would fly,
but he quickly put himself before her
and said:
mo, no. don't leave me, dearest,
will not harm you. | will not touch
you. | only want to say one word.
When convinced our poor, dear Paul
is no more, will you, oh, will you look
with more favor on my suit?"
She found her voice now. The
words-the singing insult fired her
soul--and in voice in which grief,
rage and disgust were strangely
blended, she cried
mo, no-a thousand times no! If
1t was for this you have followed me
across the ocean and wilderness you
can go-yes, go! l will have no more
to say to you-go!"
Drawing herself up to her full
height, with all the scorn which an in
jured soul can depict in handsome
face, she pointed toward the door of
the tent. Unable to stand before the
proud, defiant creature whom he had
in his grasp, he started toward the
door of the tent, when one of the
strangest figures either had ever seen,
entered.
1t was man fully fifty years of age,
his long, white hair and beard evident
ly many years strangers to either
razors, scissors, combs or brushes. In
his hand the old man carried Win
chester rifle, the butt of which he
placed on the ground, while he leaned
on the muzzle, and fixed his curious
eyes on the man before him. So
piercing was that glance that it
seemed to penetrate the very soul of
the scoundrel.
The old man might have been taken
for Rip Van Wrinkle, but for the fact
that his arms were all of the latest
improvement. Advancing a pace or
two and pausing, j he leaned on his
rife, glancing from first one and then
the other, but uttered not word.
After a moments amazed silence
Lakeland gasped:
"Who in Satan's name are you?"
THE old man of the mountains"
was the answer, in low husky voice,
which seemed to chill the blood in the
veins of the rascally Lakeland. There
was frmness in the voice, steady
CLEAN in the eye, which indicated he
had met a man whom it would not
do to trifie with.
Where did you come from?' asked
Lakeland, quaking.
From the mountain" was the an
swer.
What are you doing here?"
Without paying any heed to him, the
old man of the mountains, none other
than our hermit friend, the captain,
turned his eyes upon Laura and
asked:
Are you going to the Klondyke?'
Il was going" she answered.
And alone?"
"A woman companion was with me,
but she remained back on the trail
twenty-five miles, and an avalanche
has filled the trail, so she cannot
come"
There has been no avalanche" the
old man answered, in his deep voice;
There has been no avalanche"
She quickly fastened her gaze upon
the face of Lakeland, who began to
retreat toward the door.
$50 you have deceived me, mon
ster!" she began.
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