The Clarksburg telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1874-1926, 1911-09-21
The Danger
Trail
BY
JAMES OLIVER CURWoOD,
Copyrighted, 1910, by Bobbs-
Merrill Company.
Continued from last week..

Frenchman's eyes a slumberfng fire
that a few seconds later blazed into
vengeful mallgnity when he drew slow
ly from an inside pocket of his coat q
small parcel wrapped and tied In soft
buckskin.
"They have sent you this, m'seur."
he said. AT the very last they told
me. let him read this"
With his eyes on the parcel, scarce
" breathing. Rowland waited while
with exasperating slowness Croisset's
brown fingers united the cord that Sc.
cured it.
"First you must understand what
this meant to us in the north, m'seur,'
said Jean, his hands covering the par.
eel after he had finished with the cord
I'VE are different who live up here.
different from those who live in Mont
real and beyond. With us a Lifetime,
is not too long to spend in avengipg !,
cruel wrong. 1t is our honor of tht
north. I was fifteen then and ha,
been fostered by the factor and bi.
wife since the day my mother died OF
the smallpox and dragged myself
into the post, almost dead of starya
ton. SO it happened that was like
brother to Meleese and the othel
three. The years passed, and the de
sire fCF Vengeance grew in us as we
became >tftr until it was the one
thing tho we most desired In life.
even filing the gentle heart of Me
leese, whom we sent to school In
Montreal when she was eleven.
m'seur 1t was three years later.
while she was still in Montreal, that
went on one of my wandering
searches to n post at the head of the
Great Slave, and there, m'seur-
there
Croisset had risen. His long arms
were stretched high. his head thrown
back, his upturned face ahame with a
passion that was almost that OF
-rayer.
"M'seur, thank the great God OF
heaven that 1t was given to Jean Crois.
set to meet one of those whom we had
pledged our lives to find, and slew
him. 1t was the father, and / killed
him. m'seur-hdlled him slowly, tell.
ing him of what he had done us chok-
ed the life from him-and then, little
at time, let the life back into him,
forcing him to tell me where | would
find his son. the slayer of Meleese's ia.
Their. And after that l closed on his
throat until he was dead. and my dogs
dragged his body through 300 miles of
snow that the others might look on
him and know that he was dead. That
was six years ago, m'seur."
Rowland was scarcely breathing.
And the other. the son." he whis.
pered tensely-"you found him, Crois
set? You killed hing
"Whatwould you have done, mseur?"
Howland's hands gripped those that
guarded the little parcel.
Il would have killed him. Jean"
He spoke slowly. deliberately.
Il would have killed him." he repeat
ed.
II am glad of that, m'seur,"
Jean was uuwrapping the buckskin.
fold after fold of 1t, until at last there
was revealed a roll of paper, soiled and
yellow along the edges.
These pages are taken from the
daybooS at the post where the woman
lived" he explained softly, smoothing
them under his hands. Each day the
factor Of post keeps reckoning of
incidents ms they pass, as have heard
that sen captains do on shlpboard. Ii
has been company law for hundreds
OF years. We have kept these pages to
ourselves. m'seur, They tell of what
happened at our post sixteen years ago
this winter"
AS he spoke the half breed came to
Howland's side, smoothing the first
page on the table in front OF MIN, his
slim forefnger pointing TO the first
few lines.
They came on this day." he said.
his breath close to the engineers ear
These are their names, m'seur-the
names of the two who DESTROYED the
paradise that our Blessed Lady gave
to us many years ago"
"M'seur John Rowland. viii Won read
what happened to the father ana mo;h
er Of the little Meleese sixteen Years
ago? Will you read and understand
why your life vas sought ON the Grrot
North trail. why you were placed on
a case of dynamite in The WekusI,o
coyote aud why. with the coming uF
this mornings dawn, NJ c.
| With the dazed Srcechlrssness ~
one recovering trou u sudden blow
Rowland turned 10 he tabfe and bent
over the papers that the Frcncbman
had laid our before him Five minutes
J later he raised his hcau Ills rnce w..
as white as chalk Deep lines had sci
tied about his mouth As sick man
might, he lifted his hand and passed II
over his face and through his hair
But his eyes were attire. lnvoluntarily
jeans body gathered itself as If ia
meet nitacG.
4 have read IT," he said huskily as
though the >prahua Of The words caus
ed him u great effort Il understand