The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-09-04
Copyright, 1911, by the Bobbs-
 Merrill Co.

Lac Bain. It was past midnight when Jan dragged Dixon from the spruce forest into the opening at the post. There were no lights burning, and he went with his half conscious burden to the company's store. He awakened Croisset, who let them in.
 ''Tal1e care of Dfxon,'' said Jan, "and don't arouse any of the people tonight. It will be time enough to tell what has happened in the morning"
 Over the stove in his own room he cooked meat and coffee, and for long time sat silent before the fire. He had brought back Dixon. In the morning Melisse would know. First she would go to the Englishman, then-then- she would come to him.
 He rose and went to the rude board table in the corner of his room-
 ''No, Melisse must not come to me in the morning." he whispered to himself. 'She must never again look upon Jan Thoreau."
 He took pencil and paper and wrote. Page after page he crumpled in his hand and flung into the fire At last, swiftly and despasringly, he ended with half dozen lines. What he said came from his heart in French:
 I have brougAt him back to you. my Melisse. and pray that the good God may give you happiness. I leave you the old violin, and always when you play it will tell you of the love of Jan Thoreau.
 He folded the page and sealed it in one of the company,s envelopes. Very quietly he went from his room down into the deserted. store. Without strik- ing a light, he found new pack, few articles of food and ammunition. The envelope addressed to Melisse he left where Croisset or the factor would find it in the morning. His dogs were housed in shack behind the store, and he called out their names softly and warningly as he went among them. As stealthily as their master they trai1ed behind him to the edge of the forest, and close under the old spruce that guarded the grave Jan stopped and silently he stretched out his arms to the little cabin.
 The dogs watched him. Kazan, the one eyed leader. glared from him into the dimness of the night, whining soft ty. A low, mourning wind swept through the spruce tops. and from Jan's throat there burst sobbingly words | which he had heard beside this same grave more than seventeen years be- fore when Williams choking voice had risen in last prayer for the woman.
 'May the great God care for Me Hsse!''
 He turned into the trail upon which Jean de Gravois had fought the Eng hshman, led his dogs and sledge in twisting path through the caribou swamp and stood at last beside the lob stick tree that leaned out over the edge of the white Barrens. With his knife he dug out the papers which he had concealed in that whisky jack hole. It was near dawn when he recovered the rife which he had abandoned on the mountain top. A little later it be- gan to snow. He was glad, for it would conceal his trail.
 For thirteen days he forced his dogs through the deep snows into the south. On the fourteenth they came to Le Pas, which is the edge of civilization. It was night when he came out of the ferest, so that he could see the faint glow of lights beyond the Saskatche- wan
 For a few moments, before crossing, he stopped his tired dogs and turned bis face back into the grim desolation of the north, where the aurora was playing feebIy in the skies and beckon-
 
 | life of centuries and centuries ago would wait for him always at the dome l of the earth.
 ''The good God Bless you and keep | you and care TSr you ever more, my ] Melisse,'' he whispered. And he walk | ed slowly ahead of his dogs across the river and into the other world.
 
 There was music that night in Le | Pas A door opened and a man and a i woman came out The man was CUTS | ing, and the woman was laughing at 1 him-laughing as Jan had never heard a woman laugh before, and he held hts | breath as he listened to the taunting l mockery in it. Kazan, the one eyed | leader, snarIed. The trace dogs sIunk close to the leaders heels. With q l low word Jan led them on, | Close down to the river, where the l Saskatchewan swung in a half moon | to the south and west, he found low, l squat building with a light hung over | the door Illuminating a bit of humor | in the form of printed legend which said that it was ''King Edwards ho- | teI.'' The scrub bush of the forest { 1 within vardS of i+