Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1910-11-01
AN ARCTIC
KNIGHT
Story of an Exploring
Party
By EDWIN B. ERHART
Copyright. 1910. by American Press
Association.

Of his hands.
II could tell you something tina
would surprise you" he said. gazing a
me across the table.
stared at him expectantly.
What" l monosyllabled.
Arters gloomed meditatively, bu
showed no disposition to answer.
The girl on the cot flung pitifull!
thin arm over her head and moanet
and murmured In her sleep.
well. what?" | reiterated sharply
The long trip that day across the mo
notOnous. never ending white plaiI
had done little toward improving my
temper.
Arters arose to his great height
squared his broad shoulders and tip
loed around the table.
81 am Godw he whispered in my ear
saw that had to do with mad
| man
This is a strange world" continued
Arters. a ruminant note in his voice
Here we are come. you and l. to this
forsaken country in u quest for a lOsl
woman explorer and all for miser
able pittance dOled out to us by n Chi
cago newspaper" He brushed an i'm
patient hand across his eyes MY
memory isn't all that 1t should be-
he confessed. 81 should have remem
bered who was-am-and then this
trip would have been unnecessary"
Arters cast furtive glance toward
the cot in the dim corner. is she an
angel" he murmured querulously. "or
Ruth Proctor. the girl we came search
Ing for? | can't seem to remember
somehow"
Both" ! 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 eI-
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
,riSing 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 limelght
on the eve of her departure and for
twelve months thereafter. Now If she
was referred to ut 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 caine home without her Ar
ters and were given the word to 60
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 salaricd fact getters in the
world Of smudge and cheap paper.
No college degree journalist was Ar
ters. 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 a quarter mile OF the silent
Maid of Orleans. Ruth Proctor's boat
OF course It 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 perished OF cold.
With four ESkimOs. dogs and sledges
we began the tail of our trip. Our
route In all probability was the same
rs 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,
two sedgps ard large supply OF our
provisions Wisely we decided not 10
pursue
Fate must have planned our expedi-
tjon with an eye for the melodra-
matte. At any rate. when we found
the fur rad maid explorer she was
alone seemingly deserted by every
bodv and half crazed and sick. She
had food. hut in order to make this
last she had been slowly starving her
self 10 death. She was moving toward
the pole. fell In love with her
straightway. and guess Arters did.
Ruth Proctor was witching thing
despite her ugly. shape destroying
skins, and the hunger and snow fever
had made her dainty face but that
much more pathetically beautiful. De-
spite her stern resolve to find the pole
and the self reliance Of her. she was
most feminine person.
We turned back The girl. now that
tho incentive for keeping up was par
TALLY removed. grew seriously Ill, and
after nine days on the back track we
came across deserted shanty that
had been vantage point on our pole
ward trip and prepared to stay there
until she was some recovered. We
knew nothing Of her struggle nor why
we had found her alone. Her mind
was gone temporarily.
was worried. and had been for
some time. about Arters. His gaunt
face had metamorphosed into a
pinched. weird caricature Of Its for.
mer leanness. and If spoke to him
suddenly he started curiously nor
deigned an answer. Occasionally be
broke out into a babble Of meaning
less sounds apropos Of nothing what
ever In our arctic world. He would
sometimes catch himself at this and
flush shamefacedly.
Arters was now again back 4 the