Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-04-26

Pull up gentlemen. while 1.-The supper i.
hot" There was not a CULVER in the low
even voice.
II think my hunger must have made
me bit faint" the clergyman stammeret
to the alarmed hosts who were question
ing him sOlicitously. He stared apprehen
sively through the camps little window q:
if he feared some ruse behind those pla0(
| words of the guide. The griZzled head wa:
bent over the fire again.
After DR.. Wallace had staggered to his
bench at the table he noted that the New
Workers.. made aware by his early self
introduction that he was a minister. were
waiting decorOusly for grace. Conscious
now whose hands had prepared the food
that awaI,ed his blessing and his starved
! appetite. the perfunctory words almost
checked him. Then he ate without sense o.
taste face blanched. hands shaking ano
gulping the gcbbets of deer's flesh with q
hungry avidity that had no relish.
/ Once the guide came in with newl!
fried meat. The clergyman felt his gray
hair bristle from neck to crown at sound
of the moccasin's soft thud behind him
The man quietly poured pannikin OF
tea from the pot on the table, carried II
out of doors. and through the little win
dow the reverend guest saw him eating
beside the fire.
Dr. Wallace declined tobacco. The
sportsmen pulled their pipes comfortably
and buzzed conversation with the languid
calm of those enjoying digestion The
quiet man in moccasins cleared the table.
sorsed the pans at the ponds side and re.
plenished his fire from time to time.
-
DIR. Wallace. clasping and unclaspine
his fat fingers, watched him with sidelone
chances and endeavored to continue his
chat, but his inapposte replies, his en-
H., 1t, ct lnoo h4
came apparent even to their rather care
! less attention.
"Why. Jim cried one there is DIR.
Wallace. dead tired, and We not putting
| him to bed where he belongs. Two weeks
here have given US woods manners In
earnest" he observed. loosely. Now.
sir, to your bunk, and dreamless-
The guide had stepped into the low
doorway.
Excuse me. Mr.. Manning and you.
MI Ballou," he said, courteously, 'for
interrupting the party. But have little
business with this visiting gentleman here.
and he will oblige me If he will step out
side" He had the low, soft voice of the
veteran woodsman. Forest jewellers never
speak loudly.
DIR. Wallace half rose, choked with an
audible rattle, and sat down. The New
York men stared a bit. for even in the un-
conventional woods such a request from
a guide was not usual.
/ What is 1t. Tom?" zone of them de-
manded.
This gentleman knows the man re-
Piled quietly. "It is something that we
need to talk over alone-with all respect
| to you and Mr.. Ballou.'
With mystif1cation wrinkling their faces,
| the hosts turned to the clergyman. Per-
spiration was beaded on his forehead. His
trembling. fingers through his whisker
tufts. AS he did not speak. Manning said
| brusquely:
DIR. Wallace is tired and played out
| tonight. Tom. Whatever your business is
/ 1t must wait till morning After a good
| sleep he
II beg your pardon. Mr.. Manning. but
| my business cannot wait. and as for Sleep
| ing. this man cannot sleep under my
roof. humble as it is. This is my roof,
has slept under my roof before and
| The man broke off. for his voice was
| growing hard. He concluded in his. or
binary repressed voice: 1T Is all a mat
ter between us two. VIII you step out
SIDE SIR?
II don't think / WILL suffered the
doctor. after despairing glance at his
new friends.
Say look here. Tom" blurted Man
ming, "Ballou and / have been coming
here a good many years. and never
knew you to rear up and butt in after
this fashion before. You'd better 60 out
| by the pond and cool of. DR.. Wallace
will probably give you a few moments
| in the morning for yOur--yOur business.
| The New Yorker spoke with the acerbity
of one rebuking the presumption of an
inferior.
will you come out?" persisted the
guide. gazing straight at the clergyman.
no 49, Aa y1ny In no dY,Sk
NO gasped DIR. Wallace.
Manning and Ballou. with an angry
grunt in unison. started toward the i'm
Fortunate wcodsman. But, he straight
of duffie toting. and faced them unflinch-
ingly:
| was a grim menace in his low tones that
checked them more enectually than q
shout an oath could have done. "Mr.
Manning and you. Mr.. Ballou. l call you
| to witness that / have given this man
the chance to talk our business privately.
| 1t is for his good as we'll as for my own
pride and peace of mind that / have
asked it. I still say he must talk with
me- Will you come outside. sir?" His
| calm persistence In the same query began
| to seem dark and ominous.
NO" mumbled the clergyman. hud-
/ ding with the obstinacy o. q trapped
creature. He shuddered as he looked
/ into the blackness framed at the door.
| He edged toward the light on the table.
Then / appeal to you as gentlemen
have known In these woods year by year
| for a long time" said the guide. turning
to his employers. He realized how his
| presumption must have angered them.
You have never Id lore seen in me any
| thing except patience and courtesy, have
| you? Thank you. sirs. I don't blame you
for the stand you are taking against me
! now. but it is because you do not know.
+, l would not thave told you. but a coward
| forces me. When / was three years mar
ried and just getting together our first
little home-awful poor. srs-we thought
to help out on housekeeping expense by
taking a boarder. my wife and /. He
was a theological student. And-well,
| sirs. all there Is to tell, he took my wife
away rom me-my wife. gentlemen-'
| For the first time in their knowledge Of
him Manning and Ballou heard Tom Bal
lard's voice break into a cry. wall OF
| sudden woe.
| "Au / was working and struggling fer
| on Gods earth Took her away-I never
| saw her again. That's all. l never saw
| her again-and the bonds that I was fool
enough to think God tied they cut asun.
der. and l knew nothing Of it until it had
been done. The goddess Of the lawyers
may be blind. gentlemen, but those with