The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1910-11-15

AN ARCTIC
KNIGHT
Story of an Exploring
Party
By EDWIN B. ERHART
Copyright. 1910. by American Press
Association.
By EDWIN B. ERHART

of his hands.
II could tell you something that
would surprise you." he said, gazing at
me across the table.
stared at him expectantly.
'WhatT / monosyllabled.
Arters gloomed meditatively, but
showed no disposition to answer.
The girl on the cot flung a pitifully
thin arm over her head and moaned
and murmured in her sleep.
well, whatY / reiterated sharply.
The long trip that day across the mo-
notonous, never ending white plain
had done little toward improving my
temper.
Arters arose to his great height,
squared his broad shoulders and tip
toed around the table.
81 am Godw he whispered In my ear.
l saw that l had to do with a mad
man.
"This is strange world" continued
Arters, ruminant note in his voice.
Here we are come, you and 1, to this
forsaken country in quest for lost
woman explorer and all for a miser-
able pittance doled out to us by a Chi
cago newspaper" He brushed an i'm.
patient hand across his eyes. MY
memory isn't all that it should be-
he confessed. 81 should have remem
bered- who I was-am-and then this
trip would have been unnecessary"
Arters cast furtive glance toward
the cot in the dim corner. rs she an
angel" he murmured ENORMOUSLY. "or
Ruth Proctor, the girl we came search.
ing for? can't seem to remember
somehow"
Both" l answered. and my com.
panion was satisfied
1t seemed years since the Meteor
had assigned US. staff reporters at the
time. to the hazardous tesk of finding
Ruth Proctor, the intrepid girl ex.
plorer, who had set out two years be-
fore to find the north pole and was
now supposed to be somewhere in the
vicinity Of the ninetieth degree.
The Meteor is not one to stint its
embassies. We, the words of Arters
to the contrary, fairly reveled in mon
ey, and the essentials of the trip were
all forthcoming and were Of the best
Our boat, the Lost Hope. was marvel
Of technical construction. made for
this very purpose and for our enter
prising journal.
Miss Proctor, the young society wo-
man who had forsworn New York
and the callow amusements of her sci
to do something really worth while
had been conspicuous in the limelight
on the eve Of her departure and for
twelve months thereafter Now if she
was referred to at all in the papers
formerly enthusing over her nerve and
daring she was given no more than a
passing paragraph. Her fame bade
fair to be niched with that of her IL
lustrious predecessor, Andre, the fame
of-failure.
But the Meteor kept an impatient
eye northward. and when the relief
expedition came home without her Ar.
tiers and were given the word to &c
IN search OF the GIRL
Arters was the Benjamin ]. Arters
Of much mad scrambling ON the part
of ambitious dailies that lusted for bis
efficient services. He was a writer
keen Of brain and pen and one Of the
highest salaried fact getters in the
world of smudge and cheap paper
No college degree journalist was Ar
tiers, but reporter.
Smith, the managing editor, had said
to me, "You are to accompany Ar
ters"-not ON account of my stellar
position on the staff, understand. but
because had been one of the adven
turers in that first rush to the Yukon
and knew my north.
Our ship had rare good luck, the ice
drift allowing us at the last to come
within quarter mile of the silent
Maid Of Orleans, Ruth Proctor's boat
OF course it was deserted. The los
book was gone. We had no way Of
telling whether the crew had returned
to the trail after the original first rust
toward the pole or persisted Of cold.
With four Eskimos, dogs and sledge:
we began the tail of our trip OuI
route In all probability was the same
as that of Ruth Proctor's party.
Eskimos are peculiar humans. Oui
men seemed perfectly contented, bu
one morning we crawled out Of oul
sleeping bags to find them gone. They
had taken with them our fastest dogs
two sledges and large supply Of oul
provisions Wisely we decided not Il
pursue
Fate must have planned our expedi
ton with an eye for the melodra
matte. At any rate. when we fount
the fur clad maid explorer she wa
alone. seemingly deserted by every
body and half crazed and sick. Sh
had food. but in order to make thi
last she had been slowly starving her
self to death. She was moving towar'
the pole! | fell in love with he
straightway. and ! guess Arters did.
Ruth Proctor was a witching thin
despite her ugly, shape destroying
D.
had made her dainty face but tina
much more pathetically beautiful. De
spite her stern resolve to find the pol
and the self reliance of her, she wa
a most feminine person.
We turned back The girl. now tina
the incentive for keeping up was PAL
TALLY removed grew seriously Ill, ant
after nine days on the back track W
came across a deserted shanty tina
had been vantage point on our pole
ward trip and prepared to stay Their
until she was some recovered. w
knew nothing Of her struggle nor VIII
we had found her alone. Her min,
was gone temporarily.
was worried. and had been 70
some time. about Arters. His gaun
face had metamorphosed into
pinched, weird caricature of its fol
mer leanness. and If spoke to hiI
suddenly he started curiously no
deigned an answer. Occasionally b
broke out into a babble of meaning
less sounds apropos of nothing what
ever in our arctic world. He woul
sometimes catch himself at this an
flush shamefacedly.
Arters was now again back in th
rickety chair across the table from me
mumbling incoherently and with hi
great knotted hands clinching and ur
clinching restlessly.
This deserted shack. erected by som
forgotten voyager who. Providenc
knows how, had got timber enoug
together for that same purpose. wa
the point of our first food cache. W
had now eaten down to almost tn
last of our pemmican. Tomorrow W
would dig up our treasure, enough I
last us until we reached not too dil