Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1907-03-28
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CHATTER IV.-continued.

CHAPTER Iv.-continued.
I was soon stumbling through rough
underbrush similar to that through
which we had approached the house.
Bates swung along confidently enough
ahead Of me. pausing occasionally to
hold back the branches. began to
feel, as my rage abated, that had set
out on foolish undertaking. / was
utterly at sea as to the character of
the grounds; / was following a man
whom had not seen until two hours
before, and whom / began to suspect
of all manner of designs upon me. 1t
was wholly unlikely that the person
who had fired into the windows would
Turk about, and, moreover, the light of
the lantern, the crackle of the leaves
and the breaking Of the boughs adver-
tised our approach loudly.
A bush slapped me sharply and
stopped to rub the sting from my face.
Are you hurt, sir?" asked Bates so
licitously, turning with the lantern.
"Of course not" / snapped. I'm
having the time Of my life. Are there
no paths in this jungle?"
Not just here, sir. 1t was Mr.. Glen
arms idea not to disturb the wood at
all. He was very fond of walking
through the timber"
''Not at night, I hope! Where are
we now?"
"Quite near the lake. sir"
Then go on"
was out of patience with Bates,
with the painless woodland, and. l
must confess, with the spirit of John
Marshall Glenarm, my grandfather.
We came out presently upon grav-
ely beach, and Bates stamped sud
denly on planking.
"This is the Glenarm dock, sir; and
that's the boat house."
He waved his lantern toward low
structure that rose dark beside us. AS
we stood silent, peering out into the
starlight, / heard distinctly the dip of
paddle and the soft gliding motion of
a canoe.
tits a boat, SIR" whispered Bates,
hiding the lantern under his coat.
l brushed past him and crept to the
end of the dock. The paddle dipped
on silently and evenly in the still
water but the sound grew fainter. A
canoe is the most graceful, the most
sensitive, the most inexplicable con-
trivance of man. With it's paddle you
may dip up stars along quiet shores or
steal into the very harbor of dreams.
l knew that furtive splash instantly,
and knew that trained hand welded
the paddle. My boyhood summers in
the Maine woods were not, l find.
wholly wasted.
The owner of the canoe had evident
ly stolen close to the Glenarm dock,
but had made off when alarmed by the
noise of our approach through the
wood.
Have you a boat near here, Bates?''
I asked. %
1.-THE boat house is locked and
haven't the key with me, sir" he re-
piled, without excitement.
"Of course you haven't it," / re,
Joined, full of anger at his tone of ire,
proachable respect, and at my own
helpfulness. had not even seen the
place by daylight, and the woodland
behind me and the lake at my feet
were things of shadow and mystery.
In my rage 1 stamped my foot.
LEAD the way back" roared.
I had turned toward the woodland
when suddenly there stole across the
water a voice,-a woman's voice, deep
musical and deliberate.
Ia \ o
were you'll" it said, with a lingering
note on the word angry.
'Who are you? What are you doing
there?" bawled.
Gust enjoying a little tranquil
thought" was the drawing, mocking
reply.
Far out upon the water heard the
dip and glide of the canoe, and saw
family its outline for moment; then
it was gone. The lake, the surround
ing wood, were an unknown world
the canoe, boat of dreams. Then
again came the voice:
"Good night, merry gentlemen!"
at was lady, sir" remarked Bates
after we had waited silently for full
minute.
"How clever you are!" I sneered
II suppose ladies prowl about here al
night, shooting ducks or into peoples
houses"
ct would seem quite likely, sir"
I should have liked to cast him into
the lake, but he was already moving
away, the lantern swinging at his side
followed him, back through the wood
land to the house.
My spirits quickly responded to the
cheering influence of the great library
I stirred the fire on the hearth into
life and sat down before it, tired from
my tramp. / was mystified and per
picked by the incident that had al
ready marked my coming. 1t was pos
sible, to be sure, that the bullet which
narrowly missed my head in the little
dining room had been wild shot that
carried no evil intent. dismissed al
once the idea that it might have been
fired from the lake: 1t had crashed
through the glass with too much force
to have come so far; and, moreover,
could hardly imagine even rife bal
finding an unimpeded right OF way
through so dense strip of wood.
found it difficult to get rid Of the idea
that some one had taken pot shot
at me.
The womans hooking voice from
the lake added to my perplexity. II
was not, l reflected, such a voice as
= e.