The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1906-10-19
CHAPTER XIV.


Meanwhile around curve in the Mis-
souri,. slipped a boat, its keel making
ivory circles in the black water.
With eyes scanning the shore, the
man in the stern pointed to the lights
ahead. He spoke low to his compan-
ion: See, Owatoga, the tavernis'prob-
ably there; suppose we can find z land
ing" e
II was toward midnight of the fifth
day of the voyage that Winslow, now
free having received a mysterious let
ter purporting to be from the octoroon'
bidding him come thither to aid some
one in trouble. came in sight of the town
of st. Charles. He had so timed the
last few hours of the trip that he might
reach the town at the moment Wnen,
according to the letter, his presence
would be needed. =.
Beyond a bend in the river widened
the bay, half circle of darkness, WIN
here and there phosphorescent CLEAN
of stolen jewels with which the river
dared deck her bosom only at night.
In the center of the bay, and facing
the settlement, the island rose crowned
with cottonwood trees that shlvered III
the night wind. In the distance, hills,
tall and sheer, formed a rampant 10 the
north. Between bay and BLUM lay
the town, it's mud-walled cottages show
ing white in the blackness. The village
was asleep and dark, except for the
lights which Winslow rightfully sup
posed indicated the tavern. And from
another building to the west came
streak of light and the sound OF voices,
with now and then the faint echo OF
violin.
Winslow's whole being was tensely
alive to these human sights and sounds.
For days of the tedious journey ne had
heard, save for the rare speech or MS
guide, only the cries of wild beasts, the
shrieks of waterfowl or the sonorous
melody of the forest trees. His breath
came short-his heart throbbed queerly
at being again in touch with his kind.
Yonder lay the town which was to be
his home for many future days. Yon-
der, too, his love awaited HMM sor-
row, perhaps, or trouble, but still there.
She might not be expecting him, for
of his coming he had sent no word
when he himself could out-1ourNey
messenger. He was sure OF but one
thing-he would see her tonight, ard
he urged: Row faster, Owatoga."
AS they neared the shore, voices from
within the tavern were plainly heard.
Owatoga anchored his boat, and, leav-
ing him to watch it, Winslowmoved for
ward alone This stealth was distaste-
full. but the woman's note had enjoined
secrecy, and it was for Lavender's sake.
At thought of her waiting for him, need
ing him, perhaps, his steps quickened.
Rapidly he climbed the sloping bank,
crushing the may-apples that, dying,
beuueathed to the air boarded fra
GRANGE.
He gained the road at a few PAGES from
where rose a pollard willow tree, Its
bare head whitened by the CLEAN OF
stars. At its base figure stood, which,
gradually from ox attendant shadows,
took the form of woman. AT first she
gave no sign.
Winslow slowly advanced through the
avenue OF branches that stretched from
the shady covert on either side. Once
he paused to listen. A crackle of
leaves, step on the turf behind him
was Owatoga following? All was silent
again, and he pressed forward.
The woman bent eXpectant to meet
him, and put out a welcoming hand,
murmuring: Gerald, is it you? AT
last"
But Winslow stood still in surprise,
He could not see her face, but the voice
was not Lavender's.
Then from somewhere back of him
out of the gloomy forest came another
sound; allow growlt that was only half-hu-
man in its rage and glee. Winslow's blood
curdled. Turning to see whence the
voice came, he met a pair of eyes glaring
in a grotesquely large head like jack
o'lantern light.
The figure threw itself upon him with
tigerish strength. There was wom-
ans scream, and for few moments no
sound but the heavy breathing of the
two n.en Rugged together in a death
grapple Vain was Winslow's clumsy
rifle against this unseen foe, whose
hands in the darkness clutched his
throat. There was fash of steel, but
putting forth all his strength, Winslow
turned its course. The blade, swerving
from its fatal errand, lodged in his
shoulder, and he sank to the ground.
With a cry, the woman rushed forward,
but the slayer, brandishing the knife
over the PROSTATE Winslow, waved her
back. BE off! What dye want with
a carrion lover, anyway? Come to meet
the branch-water gal, did he? Wanted
that rich coal land. eh?" and he raised
the knife again.
But it was never lowered. At that
instant, from out the underbrush across
the road, whistled an arrow. and this
time the messenger of death did not
fail. without a groan the branch-wa-
ter man sank to earth, already wet
with the blood Of his intended victim.
Motionless, the girl stood, hands
clasped. eyes staring with horror, heI
lover dead, and by her fathers hand