The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1912-08-22

been swept away with the flood or tina
she had not been lost in the mountain
and forced to wander on finally t,
starve and freeze and die. In one mo
ment her nearness caused his heart Il
throb with joyful anticipation. Thu
certainty that at the first flush Of da!
he should seek her again sent tn,
warm blood to his cheeks. But thos,
thoughts would be succeeded by tn,
knowledge that she was with his en-
envy. Was this man to rob him Of the
latest love as he had robbed him o.
the firstg Perhaps the hardest task
that was ever laid upon Armstrong
was to lie quietly in his sleeping bag
and wait until the morning.
So soon as the first indication OF
dawn showed over the crack of the
door, he slipped quietly out of his
sleeping bag and without disturbing
the others drew on his boots, put on
his heavy fur coat and cap and gloves
slung his Winchester and his snow
shoes over his shoulder. and without
stopping for bite to eat, softly open
|
after him. 1t was quite dark in the
bottom of the canon, although few
| pale CLEANS overhead indicated the
near approach of day. II was quite
still, too. There were clouds on the
mountain top heavy with threat of
wind and snow.
The way was not difficult, the drec-
ton of IL. that is. Nor was the going
very difficult at first; the snow was
frozen and the crust was strong enough
to bear him. He did not need his
snow shoes, and. indeed, would have
had little chance to use them in the
narrow, broken, rocky pass. He had
slipped away from the others because
he wanted to be first TO see the man
and the woman. He did not want any
witnesses to that meeting. They
would have come on later, of course:
but he wanted an hour or two in pri-
vate with Enid and Newbold without
any interruption. His conscience was
not clear. Nor could he settle upon a
course of action.
How much Newhold knew OF his
former attempt to win away his wife,
how much of what he knew he had
told Enid Maitland, Armstrong could
not surmise. Putting himself into
Newbold's place and imagining that
the engineer had possessed entire in
formation. he decided that he must
have told everything to Enid Matt
land as soon as he had found out the
quasi relation between her and Arm
strong And Armstrong did not believe
the woman he loved could be in any
body's presence a month without tell
ing something about him. Still, it was
possible that Newbold knew nothing,
and that he told nothing therefore.
The situation was paralyzing to a
man of Armstrong; decided, determin-
ed temperament. He could not decide
upon the line Of conduct he should
pursue. His course in this. the most
critical emergency he had ever faced,
must be determined by circumstances
of which he felt with savage resent
ment he was in some measure the
sport. He would have to leave to
chance what ought to be subject to his
WILL or only one thing he was sure
he would stop at nothing, murder, ly-
ing; nothing, to win the woman, and
to settle his score with that man.
There was really only one thing he
could do, and that was to press on
up the canon. He had no idea how
far it might be or how long a journey
he would have to make before he
reached that shelf on the high hill
where stood that hut in which she
dwelt AS the crow flies. it could not
be great distance, but the canon
zigzagged through the mountains with
as many curves and angles as a light
ming fash. He plodded on. therefore,
with furious haste, recklessly speed.
ing over places where a misstep in
the snow or a slip on the icy rocks
would have meant death or disaster to
him.
He had gone about an hour, and had
perhaps made four miles from the
camp when the storm burst upon him.
Ii was now broad day, but the sky was
| filed with clouds and the air with
driving snow. The wind whistled down
the canon with terrific force. It was with
| difficulty that he made any Roadway al
all against It. 1t was local storm;
| If he could have looked through the
snow he would have discovered calm
ness on the top OF the peaks. 1t was
one of those sudden squalls of wind
and snow which rage with terrific
force while they last, but whose rage
was limited, and whose violent dura-
| ton would be short.
A less determined man than he
would have bowed TO the inevitable
and sought some shelter behind a
rock until the fury of the tempest
was spent, but there was no storm
that blew that could stop this man
so long as he had strength to drive
against it, SO he bent his head to the
fierce blast and struggled on. There
was something titanic and magnificent
about this iron determination and per-
I sistence of Armstrong The two most