Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1905-02-08
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The Hermit
\ A Story Of the Wilderness
y By CHARLES CLARK MUM !
Author 81 Pocket Island" Uncle Terry"
and" Rockhaven."
CHAPTER XXVII.-COSr1NUEp.
<Copyrisht, IN. hy L. and shepard,

They'll follow. fast enough" re-
turned Levi, taking his share Of good
things, now that the need Of haste was
evident, "they want to earn that ST.
600 ez has been offered for Mcclure.
We've got a good six hours start on
'em, even 'lowin' daylight paddlin', -
he added, glancing. at the sun, On
time enough to hide the hermit where
they can't find him, that is, 'lowin' he's
the man you want"
Martin looked at his guide in sur
prise. He had confided to him the OBJ
Ject OF his trip; what Levi knew of this
McGuire's history he had impaired be-
fore that long night Journey, but no
definite plan Of action had been agreed
upon SO far.
I'm going to let you manage this
affair."" replied Martin, after a pause.
You know the woods, you know the
danger. and what want. II the her.
nit Is the man think, we must keep
him out Of these o16cers' hands il we
have to tie him hand and foot and
carry him OF bodily"
Il wished we'd got more time," re-
turned Levi, thoughtfully; "we're in a
sort d pocket up thar, n bout the
only chance o gittin' out is down the
way We go in, n that means runnin'
right into these ossifers, sure pop.
Thar's small stream comm into that
lake whar he is, but We can't work up
1t more n mile n it ends in a beaver
dam. On EN- he muttered a little
later, 81 wish we could start 'em up
toward the Moosehorn n the hut with
the signal wire. That's one o. Nc
CURES hidin'-spots. I've notion
But time was flying. Martin uneasy
to be of, and the moment breakfast
was eaten. the smouldering fire was
drenched with water to leave no smoke
sign. and the canoes pushed off.
And now came an exhibition O.:
voodcraft new even to Martin. Levi,
always the last to get into his canoe,
waited until the other had moved out,
then, stepping into the water, reached
back with his paddle and levelled every
track in the sand and smoothed down
the burrows cut by canoe bows when
they landed, then with a tin cup he
threw water over them all.
'They may find somebody built a
dre." he said, as he took his seat, "but
they can't tell when"
And now forward once more into and
up the slow-running stream, Martin
and the doctor had ascelded, as they
supposed in pursuit of a wild man. It
seemed longer now, for pursuers were
hot after them. It lent vigor to their
padding, however, and when the quick
WATERMAN. reached. and they halted for
breathing spell. Martin consulted his
watch and was astonished to find it
not yet ten. He had been so keyed
up with excitement, the night journey.
the brief sleep and all, that he had lost
sense OF time. He had not even no.
ticed the sun. It was reassuring in
one way, for they must still be many
hours in advance Of their pursuers,
and they pushed on with rising spirits.
For over two months now Martin
had been slowly reaching the conclu-
sion that this old hermit must be the
long-missing AMI. At first a vague
suspicion, then probability, and at
last-so many times had he thought of
1t, comparing and shifting all data and
gossip, recalling the old hermit,s looks
and nature as he found them. with all
reports, that now he was ready to stake
his life almost that t5c long mystery
would soon be solved and the hermit
found to be Angles father. There
were other and stronger chords than
curiosity. His memory of boyhoodl
days and Angie-his more mature and
deeper love for her now-the realiza-
.tion Of how she had been wronged, and
beyond these, a burning desire to teach
that miserly hypocrite, her uncle, a
lesson in common honesty and man
hood, moved him to action.
And just ahead, shining in the sun
light was the little lake across which
might be the one who could solve all
mystery and serve justice.
Martin could hardly wait, and, al
though weary by loss Of sleep and long
hours OF steady padding, when the
PROV Of his canoe emerged from the
tangle OF alders and glided into the
lake, he fixed his eyes on the thicket OF
spruce where the hut stood, and never
lowered them until his canoe bow
grated on the sandy landing.
Then. .leaping ashore, he halted.
"You had better go first," he said to
old Cy, "the shock of seeing you may
waken his memory. It's only a few
rods up this path to the hut
Half dreading, and yet longing ia
end the suspense, Martin followed his
companion. Up the steep bank, among
the thick-growing trees they crepi
stealthily until the stump-dotted gar
den opened into view, and beside II
the hut. The fence was still in place
weeds and dried corn stalks filled the
garden, and as old Cy opened the little
gate and halted before the cabin, the
squirrels frisked and chartered vii
sudden interest. :,
But. the. door was closed, and what
was more discouraging. bank Of dr.,
leaves had gathered at. its foot eau
tiously, and with sinking heart Marti1
crept up, pushed the door. open >ant
looked in.
The. hut was empty. H.. ~
49,.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A DESERTED CABIN.
For a few moments Martin stoo,