Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1910-10-07

rested long, lean chin in the hollows
of his hands.
81 could tell you something that
would surprise you" he said, gazing at
me across the table
1 stared at him expectantly.
WHAT" 1 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. whatT" / 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.
II am God" he whispered in my ear.
1 saw that 1 had to do with mad
man.
This is strange world" continued
Arters, q ruminant note in his voice.
Here we are come, you and |. to this
forsaken country in quest for a lost
woman explorer and all for a miser-
able pittanee 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. Il should have remem-
bered who I was-am-and then this
trip would have been unnecessary"
Arters cast a furtiNe glance toward
the cot in the dim corner. rs she an
angel" he murmured ENORMOUSLY, cor
Ruth Proctor, the girl we came search
ing for? l can't seem to remember
somehow"
Both" I answered, and my COM
panion was satisfied.
1t seemed years since the Meteor
had assigned US. staff reporters at the
time, to the hazardous task 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 set
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 n
passing paragraph. Her fame babe
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 l were given the word to go
in search Of the girl.
ArterS was the Benjamin j. ArterS
Of much mad scrambling on the part
of ambitious dailies that lusted for his
efficient services. He was 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 I 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 a quarter mile of the silent
Maid of Orleans, Ruth Proctor's boat.
| OF course 1t was deserted. The log
book was gone. We had no way of
telling whether the crew had returned
to the trail after the original first rush
toward the pole or persisted of cold.
With four Eskimos, dogs and sledges
we began the tail Of our trip. Our
route in all probability was the same
as that of Ruth Proctor's party.
Eskimos are peculiar humans. Our
men seemed perfectly contented. but
one morning we crawled out of our
sleeping bags to find them gone. They
had taken with them our fastest dogs
l tzaA alAases and q large supply OF our