The Springfield herald., 1912-08-16
CHAPTER xIx-tcontInued)


Not altogether admirable had been
lanes Armstrong; outwardly success.
tl career In much that is high and
ioble and manly his actions-and his
characterized often been lacking. but
wen the base can love, and sometimes
owe transforms. If it be given
.hance The passion of Cymon for iph-
genia made a man and prince out OF
he rustic boor, and his real love for
Enid Maitland might have. done more
or Armstrong than he himself or any
,ne who knew him as he was. and
'ew there were who had such
knowledge OF him. dreamed was
possible There was one thing that
love could not do. however; 1t
could not make him patient phil
,sopher good waiter. His rule of
life was not very high, but in one way
It was admirable, in that prompt, bold
iesire action was his chiefest charac-
teristic
On this certain morning month
,fter the heart-breaking disaster his
power OF passive endurance had been
strained to the vanishing point The
great white range was flung in his face
ike challenge. Within its secret re-
.esses lay the solution of the mystery.
Somewhere. dead or alive. beyond the
Ioaring rampant was the woman he
owed 1t was impossible for him to
emain quiet any longer. Common
;ense, reason. every argument that
lad been adduced, suddenly became of
40 weight He lifted his head and
,tared straight westward. his eyes
swept the long semicircle of horizon
across which the mighty range was
irawn like the chord of gigantic arc
Or the string OF a mighty bow Each
white peak Knocked him. the insolent
aggression of the range called him ir-
.esistibly to action.
BY Heaven he said under his
breath. rising to his feet. winter or
no winter. | go"
Robert Maitland had offices in the
same building Having once come to a
determination. there was no more un-
certainty or hesitation about Arm
strong's course. In another moment
he was standing in the private room of
his friend The two men were not
alone there Stephen Maitland sat in
n low chair before another window
removed from the desk somewhat,
staring out al the range. The old
man was huddled down in his seat,
every line of his figure spoke of grief
and despair OF all the places In Den
yer. he liked best his brothers office
fronting the rampant of the noun
talns, and hour after hour he sat there
quietly looking at the submits. some
times softly shrouded in white, some
lines swept bare by the fierce winter
gales that blew across them. some
times shining and sparkling so that
che eye scarce sustain their reflection
OF the dazzling sun OF Colorado; and
at other times seen dimly through
nists of whirling snow
Oh. yes. the mountains challenged
MIN also to- the other side OF the
range His near, yearned for his
child. bu, he was too old to make
the attempt He could only sit and
pray and wait with such faint and fad
ing hope as he could still cherish un-
til the break up of the spring came
For the rest he troubled nobody: no
body noticed him. nobody marked him,
nobody minded MIN. Robert Maitland
transacted his business a little more
softly, little more gently. that was
all Yet the presence of his brother
was a living grief and a living re-
proach to him. Although he was quite
blameless he blamed himself. He had
not known how he had grown to love
his niece until he had lost her His
conscience accused him hourly, and
yet he knew not where he was at
fault or how he could have done dtf-
ferently. 1t was helpless and hope
less situation. To him, therefore, en-
tered Armstrong.
Maitland" he began, Il cant stand
II any longer. I'm going into the noun
tains."
You are madl"
Il cant help 1t. can't sit here