Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1908-12-03

L"o udS SlhSC IlllIlC udu WHICH OuI
and handed to the rector for some
church fund, unasked. Stephen Ruthen
was returning the cheQue. He could
not use it now, of course.
He had heard some news concern
ing Philip Hume that day-it was in
every ones mouth in the village-of
a fracas that had taken place late
on the previous night at the club at
Fellsgarth between young Jack La
thom and Hume. 1t had been in the
direction of Fellsgarth that Hume was
motoring when Olive recognized him.
Stephen had not heard definitely
what the quarrel was about; but the
! two men had been forcibly separated
| by friends though not till young La
| thom's fist had left it's traces on the
Others face. The story was widely
| discussed in Fellsgarth, where the two
men were well known.
Except for the del1rious woman toss
| ing restlessly in fever, and the village
nurse, the rector was alone in the
| house. Hilda was out-over at the
church school room, where there was
a sewing meeting; and the one serv-
ant the Ruthens kept had accompa-
| MED her.
Stephen had not told Hilda yet
about Hume but he must tell her,
of course soon. Perhaps she cared
! for the man, he thought with a pang;
it was only right she should learn
without delay his real character.
He crossed over to the windows and
stared out The wind had dropped
somewhat during the night, and all
day the snow had been falling. 1t
was beginning to lie thick on the
| roads. and the air was white with the
great feathery flakes. By the hedge
rows the snow was already mounting
| in drifts.
| Stephen walked back to the fireside.
I At least his beloved was in safe shell
ter this bitter night He shuddered
to think how she might have fallen
| i'll among strangers; he shuddered as
! he thought of tn culture, when Olive
had recovered her strength and fac
ulties, and confronted the man who
| had dealt her that irreparable wrong.
But he resolutely put that thought
away from him. The future to the
future!
1t suddenly struck the rector that,
in spite of the cheerful fire Of peat
and COAL his room was unusually cold
that an icy draught was, in some
| incomprehensihle way, sweeping in
! under the door.
I int no To inv,
| gate the cause. The outer door was
standing wide open, and the snow was
! driving in. The door must have been
| open some time; the mat just inside
| the hall was thicl1ly white.
How curious it was! He had seen
| the servant shut the door as she and
Hilda went out-he distinctly remem-
bered that-and no one could have
! gone to the door since, yet surely if
it had been dashed open by the wind
! he must have heard the sound. Puz-
zled, he went to close it, when a sud
den thought drove the color from his
! face.
IT'S IMPOSSIBLE he muttered to
himself challenging that vague fear.
! Nevertheless that same thought sent
/ Stephen Ruthen running upstairs
towards the sick room in nervous
haste.
Up the two short 1ights-and there
a glance told him that that vague
fear was a fact.
The door of olives room was ajar,
and through the crevice he saw that
the bed was empty. The nurse, a
countrywoman without much training
or experience, hastily called in on the
emergency, was lying in the armchair
fast asleep. Her fingers still encir-
cled an empty glass that smelt of spir-
its.
The bed was unoccupied! Where
in heavens name was Olive gone?
He glanced round the room quickly;
! Olives heavy cloak was missing.
In his desperate haste and fear he
! did not pause to awake the nurse.
Plainly she could tell him nothing.
Like one in a panic he raced down
| stairs; he caught his hat from the
| hall rack as he ran to the front door.
No sound, no sign of life. A death
| like stiffness lay over the dreary, I'M
| broken except by the recurring gusts
| of wind that rose at intervals from
| the silence to scream among the
ghostly trees and died away again in
to a muttering lull.
i He bent to search for footprints in
| the drifted snow outside the door; but
| the white flakes were falling so thick
| ly that any traces of footmarks were
soon obliterated.
''Olive! Olive!"
Stephen called loudly more than
once. There was no answering voice,
no human figure in sight. Then the
| icy blast Of the northeast wind came
! back again with a rush and scream:
and it bore with it to his ears a sound
| faint and far away, that somehow
brought a strange shuddering terror
1 upon him.
The sound of a 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 a 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. If it should be Oh"e--
The road he took led him away
from the village, towards the wild
open country on the outskirts, relieved
bv cIumps of stunted trees standing
out darkly against the snowy waste,
poc+ on oooa SiOna1 cottage or distant