The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-01-31
CHAPTER II.

/ on tributary at lne southern emu
| of Crooked Lake. At the northern
end of this siX-mile Stretch of
water there was a three-mile carry
to Fawn Lake, at the upper end
of which was located the luxurious
camp" of Mortimer Blake Both
lakes lay entirely within the pre-
serve, and the proprietor, incensed
at what he took to be sullen hos
tility on the part of the natives Of
the section had begun to fence his
entire tract.
Sol Wittemore had always trap
ped on stream which entered
Crooked Lake at the northern end
and this had come to be regarded
as his particular domain. Because
he continued to get fish from the
lake with which to bait his traps,
he had been evicted and his cabin
torn to the ground by a proprietor
too pig-headed to admit that sin
gle one of the frequent otter trap
ped by Sol would destroy more fish
in a year than the trapper would
use in ten. Despite all warning,
Sol still trapped on his old route
without interference, for no keeper
on Blake's preserve cared to meet
the veteran hunter, rifle in hand,
in the deep woods which he firmly
believed to be morally his own.
Therefore, Sol, of all the communi-
ty trespassed for the present undis-
turbed yet with the ever-ranking
consciousness that, honest as his
own convictions might be, he was,
nevertheless, in the eyes of the law,
poacher, fearless as the man was
and counting open interference with
his ancient rights this knowledge
gnawed at his spirits. He stopped Of
ten to listen; if a chipmunk scam
pered suddenly through the dry
leaves Soils grip tightened on the
lock of his rifle.
He left his cabin at daybreak to
make the usual round of his traps.
1t was very cold; the wind was ris-
ing. and already the air was dim
with fine, powderly snowflakes. Sol
crossed the stream which was the
southern boundary of the Blake re-
serve, and struck into the big tim
Der on his six-mile trail to the
first of his traps. He travelled swift
ly, for the blizzard was rushing down
from the North with long strides,
and even as he hurried with silent
feet through the somber woods the
air thickened with snow and the
wind began to sigh and moan
through the hemlock-tops.
Sol reached his stream, coming
out exactly at the spot where he
had set his first trap. A brief inves-
tigation showed him that it was
gone The light veil of snow hid all
trace of the marauder, but the trap
per guessed that he had been fol-
lowed and robbed by one of the
wardens who did not dare dispute
his presence face to face. He hur-
red upstream to the location of the
second trap; that, too, was gone,
also the third.
With lips compressed and face
blanched from the tension of the ter
rifle emotion of hate contained
within him, Sol made the COM
plete round of the traps upon that
stream. There remained but three,
these being so cunningly concealed
as to have defied detection.
Pale fury blazed from the eyes
of the trapper. 1t was not as If
he had been killing the game or
catching the fish. The determination
of "varmints' like otter, mink, foxes.
coons. and skunks, was something
by which the preserve would profit,
just as the forests would have prof
tied by judicious numbering. The cow
ardly wrong which had been
done him was of sort inspired by,
malice alone-a sinking, craven form
of revengeful spirit-and Sol. with
all the devils of hate and vengeance
leering from his narrowed eyes and
his relentless features frozen into
the grim promise of swift and bloody
atonement. left the rapid stream,
and with his unerring woodsmans
instinct struck straight through the
snow-dimmed forest for the camp
OF his enemy.
The hour OF reckoning had come.
The fifty winters which had sill
vered his clustering hair sat upon
him as lightly as the snow which
whitened his cap of otter-skin. He
Travelled swiftly, at ~ long, swinging
trOt where the omen woods narn,it