Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1911-03-18
BY James Oliver Curwood

and by standing on 1t was enabled to
peer through. A hundred yards away
was the black edge of the spruce and
baisam forest. Between him and the
forest, half smothered in the deep
as he saw floating over it the little red
signal of death of which Croisset had
told him the night before.
With the breaking of this day the
hours seemed Of ;nternnibabie length.
For a time he amused himself BY
searching every corner and crevice CT
his prison room, but he found nothing
of interest beyond what he had already
discovered. He examined the door which
Croisset had barred on him. and gave
up all hope Of escape IN that direction.
He could barely thrust his arm through
the aperture that opened out on the
pIague-strieken cabin. For the first
time since the stirring beginning of his
adventures at Prince Albert q sicken-
ing sense of his own impotency began
to weigh on Rowland. He was a pris-
~oner-penned up in a desolate room in
the heart of a wilderness. And he.
Jack Rowland, a man who had always
taken pride in his physical prowess,
had allowed one man to place him
there.
His blood began to boil as he thought
of it. Now, as he had time and silence
in which to look back on what had
happened, he was enraged at h pic
lures that flashed one after another
before him. He had allowed him
self to be Used as nothing more
than a pawn in a strange and mysteri-
Gus game. II was not through his ef-
forts alone that he had been saved In
the fight on the Saskatchewan trail.
Blindly ne had walked into the trap
at the coyote. Stin more blindly he
had allowed himself to be led into the
ambush at the Wekusko camp, and
more like a child than a mar he had
submitted himself to Jean Croisset!
He stamped back and forth across
the room, smoking viciously, and his
face grew red with the thoughts that
were stirring venom within him. He
placed no weight on circumstances: IN
these moments he found nc excuse for
himself. In no situation had he dis
played the white feather. at no time
had he felt a thrill of fear. His II
age and recklessness had terrified Me
leese, had astonished Croisset, and yet
what had he done? From the begin
ning-from the moment he first placed
his foot In the Chinese cafe-his enc
mics had held the whip-hand. He had
been compelled to play a passive part.
Up to the point Of the ambush on the
Wekusko trail he might have found
some vindieation for himself; but this
experience with Jean Croisset-'t was
enough to madden him. now that ne
was alone, TO think about It. Why had
he not taken advantage Of Jean, as
Jackpine and the Frencf1man had taken
advantage of him?
He saw nov what he might have
done. Somewhere, not very far back,
the sledge carrying Meiesse and Jack
pine had turned into the unknown.
They two were alone. why had he not
made Croisset a prisoner, instead OF
allowing himself to be Gagged up like q
weakling? He swore aloud as there
dawned on him more and more a reali-
cation of the opportunity he had lost.
At the point of a gun he could have
forced Croisset to overtake the other
! sledee. He could have surprised Jack
pine, as they had surprised him on the
trail, and then? He smiled. but there
was no huiior in the smile. He al
least would have held the whip-hand,
and what would Meleese have done?
He asked himself question after
question, answering them quickly and
decisively In the same breath. Me-
lesss loved him. he would have stAkss
J his life on that. Ills bleed Ieaped se