The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-24
The Honor s of the sz+ sZz
By Jannes Oliver CuIEyy@@@
(Continued0

nlm cautiously again ana WnlSpereQ low-ss.f you see anything about the dead missioner that you do not under stand think of Jean de Gravois." He rose to his feet and bent over Jan's white face.
 'I am going the Athabasca way to- day." he finished. Perhaps, Jan Thor eau, you will hear after time that it would be best for Jean de Gravois never to return again to this Post Lac Bain. If so you will find him be- tween Fond du Lac and the Beaver river" He passed out.
 When Cummins returned he found Jan's cheeks flushed and the boy in. fever.
 Devil take that GravoisP' he growl- ed.
 ''He has been a brother to me-" said Jan simply. ''I love him."
 On the second day after the French mans departure Jan rose free of the fever which had threatened him for a time. and in the afternoon he har- messed Cummins' dogs The last of the trappers had started from the post that morning, their sledges and dogs sink ing heavily in the deepening slush, and Jan set off over the smooth toboggan trail made by the company's agent in his return to Fort Churchill.
 This s,.trail followed close along the base -of the ridge upon which he had fought the missionary. joining that of Jean de Gravois miles beyond. Jan climbed the ridge. From where he had A A~YT most obliterated trail of the French man and his malemutes until he came to the lake, and then he knew that Jean de Gravois had spoken the truth. for he found the missionary with his face half buried in the slush, stark dead.
 He no longer had to guess at the meaning of Jeans words. The bullet hole under the dead mans arms was too large to escape eyes like Jan's. Into the little hidden world which he treas ured in his heart there came another face, to remain always with him-the face of the courageous little forest dandy who was hurrying with his bride back into the country of the Athabasca.
 From that night Jan's eyes were no longer filled with the nervous, glitter ing flashes which at times had given him an appearance almost of madness. In place of their searching suspicious, there was a warmer and more com panionable glow and Dummins felt the effect Of the change.
 A Cree trapper had found Jan's vio- lin in the snow and had brought it to Maballa. Before Cummins finished his supper the boy began to play, and he continued to play untih the lights at the post went out and both the man and the child were deep in sleep. Then Jan stopped. There was the fire of a keen wakefulness in his eyes as he carefully unfastened the strings of his instrument and held it close to the oil lamp, so that he could peer down through the narrow aperture in the box.
 He looked again at Cummins. The man was sleeping with his face to the wall. With the hooked wire which he used for cleaning his revolver Jan fished gently at the very end of the box, and after three or four efforts the wire caught in something soft, which he pulled toward him. Through the bulge in the "Fo'' hole he dragged forth a small,i tightly rolled cylinder of faded red cloth.
 For a few moments he sat watching the deep breathing of Cummins, un- rolling the cloth as he watched, until he had spread out upon the table be- fore him a number of closely written pages of paper. He weighted them at one end with his violin and held them down at the other with his hands. The writing was in French Several of the pages were in a heavy mascu- line hand, the words running one upon another so closely that in places they seemed to be connected, and from them Jan took his fingers, so that they rolled up like spring. Over the oth- CTS he bent his head, and there came from him low. sobbing breath.
 On these pages the writing was that of woman. and from the paper there sfih rose a faint, sweet scent of helio- trope For half an hour Jan gazed upon them, reading the words slowly until he came to the last page.
 A new and strange longing crept Into his heart. He stretched out his arms, with the papers and his violin rlutched in his hands, as if wonder ful spirit was calling to him.
 For the first time in his lonely life It came to him-this call of the great world beyond the wilderness-ands sud hen1y he crushed the woman's letter to his lips, and his voice burst from him in whispering, thrilling eagerness:
 "I will come to you-some day-w'en ge leetle Melisse come too."
 He rolled the written pages togeth- CT. wrapped them in the faded red cloth and concealed them again in the box of his violin before he re-entered she cabin.
 The next. morning Cummins stood In the door and said <, seHow warm the sun is! The snow md ice are going, Jan. It's spring. We'll house the sledges today and begin feeding the dogs on fish"
 Each day thereafter the sun rose earlier, the day was longer and the air was warmer, and with the warmth here now came the sweet scents of he budding earth and the myriad sounds of the deep, unseen life of the forest awakening from it's long slum-