The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1908-12-04

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and It bore with It to his ears sound
faint and far, away, that somehow
brought q strange shuddertng terror
upon him.
The sound OF shot.
Why It should brighten him, why
he should at once connect that sound
with the inexplicable disappearance
of Olive, Stephen Ruthen could not
have told. With whitening face he
began running down the path, through
the gate, into the road-in the direc.
. ton from which the shot seemed to
have come. II It should be Olive
The road he took led him away
from the village, towards the wild
open country on the outskirts, relieved
by clumps Of stunted trees standing
out darkly against the snowy waste.
past an occasional cottage or distant
farm house, where windows glowed
warmly red, and towards the lonely
moors beyond.
In the dim light it seemed as If the
moors stretched on to the end of the
world, like the waves of white linn
itless sea frozen into stiffness.
Stephen Ruthen might have been
the only soul abroad that night In the
snow and the wind, SO utterly un-
broken was the solitude Of these coun-
try roads; he met no one as he ran
blindly and at random. The ominous
sound he had heard was not repeated.
He was bathed in perspiration; one
side of his coat was already white.
How long had he been running? He
did not know; but the conviction was
suddenly forced upon him that he
must be on the wrong road; In her
weak state it was impossible that
olive could have come so far. ~
Bresthless, he doubled back on his
tracks to fork in the highway, and
took the other road. It led to the
place known as Cross Ways, where
two paths intersected, and when
great stone, roughly hewn In some
dim primitive age into a shape some
thing resembling a cross, stood out
tlack against the sky-a stone that
had perhaps been an altar OF long-for-
rotten pagan rites, around which
many village superstition had grown
up.
AS he ran Stephen asked himself
why he had not taken this road first.
only in those first moments of panic
lie had not paused to argue logically.
perhaps had not been capable OF doing
so. The significant fact flashed upon
Kim that Cross Ways was not very far
from Philip Hume's house, and per-
haps some dim obsession still domi-
mating the delirfous brain had taken
Olive there.
A turn of the road, and for an in.
slant Stephen Ruthen's footsteps
stopped dead, silence OF supreme
horror sealing his lips at the sight of
the tragic thing that rushed up to-
meet his eyes.
Before him, throwing its long dark
reflection over the wintry roadway
like a pointing, shadowy finger, stood
the great grim stone that long ago
was said to have known bloodshed and
sacrifice-that was looking down on
new victim tonight e..
Almost in the middle of the open
space of the Cross Ways, with that
pointing finger Of shadow falling
black across It, lay what in life had
been Philip Hume, with stark, gray
face upturned to the sky.
And kneeling by the dead man IN
the snow, it's wilderness stained by
slow1y-widening blot Of crimson, with
her fingers still clenching small
weapon whose polished barrel caught
the moonlight with an evil glitter. was
Olive!
She was clearly unconscious OF his
approach as she knelt there by the
PROSTATE figure, the dark cloak about
her glistening with powdered white
ness AS If mechanically. she was
smoothing the snow as 1t fell from
off the dead mans brow, her glitter
ing. fever-scorched eyes fastened on
the upturned face that in life she had
hated SO deeply, had had such cause
to hate. The pity and the terror of 1t
clutched at Stephen Ruthen's heart.
"Olive!"
ITO Be continued.)