River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1905-02-02

A r Maas@ tough climb isn't IT,
The speaker was tall Englishman
CT perhaps so, but looking as hard and
tough and generally fit as most men
CT half his age.
Eyes, sir" said the guide, who stood
before him at the inn door; land well
have to start early il we are to get
back the same day"
Sir Robert Ballard turned and re-
entered his room. From desk he
pulled out a sheet of paper, and, pick
ing up pen, sat down at table and
began a letter.
MY dear Harry" he wrote, Il am
afraid | have not been quite fair to
you. Thinking over things again,
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. l am,
therefore, again altering my will, and
instead Of my cousin, James Rennie,
being my rcsiduary legatee, you Will
ind the bulk Of my property will
eventually come to you. | trust this
)
that you will grow up a man worthy
Of the trust l am reposing in you.
IOur affectiOnate uncle,
Robert Ballard"
Sir Robert sealed and stamped the
letter and then ON sheet Of foolscap
proceeded rapidly to redraft his will.
II seemed an easy enough matter,
and took but few minutes. You would
hardly have imagined the amount in
question was something like $4,000
The rapid pen ceased flying over the
paper and ST. Robert touched the bell
Call Max Schneider" he said to the
waiter, "and you, too, come in. l want
you TO witness this signature for me-
lie signed the document the two
ruen affixed their signatures, and then
he folded it, placed it in an envelope
and slipped it into an inner pocket OF
Aiq 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 &C 10 bed
al once, anu | suppose you'll do the
same"
And 20 minutes later he was sleep
ing like boz.
Great luck having such lovely
Eeather-eh Max"
Lovely indeed, Sir Robert; but pray
don't say anything about it till were
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 to be pleased.
Few men had ever climbed the beetling
cliffs OF the Aiguille Vert at all. Few
er still could boast of having accom-
Dlished the feat within the hours Of
single day.
Half an hour later they reached the
edge Of the ice. The sun had now set,
and the air, chill with approaching
night, was no longer clear as 1t had
been. Pale wreaths Of smoky mist
hung in light bands, which seemed to
shift and change kaleidoscOpically
though no breeze was felt.
Still roped together, as they mad been
during the entire time, they crossed
the mOraine and started steadily
tramping across the rough ice, whose
Surfate was broken by hundred deep
riffs and lumpy, yawning crevasses.
The fog closed and fell thicker and
thicker.
Some three hours later that night
one OF the guides burst into the kitch-
en- Of the Montyert inn.
His face was white and drawn, and
he was almost speechless with excite
ment, misery and fatigue.
At last he managed to gasp out his
Dteous story-how they had missed
their way in the fog; how he lad heard
a sharp cry of warning from Max, who
was leading the party; how next he
had been jerked off his feet by ire
mendOus pull at the rope round his
waist; and how he had desperately
saved himself by driving his alpen-
stock into the ice. Next thing he knew
he was alone alone on the edge of
giant CrevasSe, whose misty depths
yawned silent as a grave
The instant they understood him
rescue party was formed, Under the
guidance of Herman, the innkeeper
All night the devoted men worked.
and most Of next day. But it was use
less. The glacier does not easily give
UP its prey.
A big, broad-shouldered. cookbook
ing young fellow of about aight-and-
twenty was sitting in q dinov little