Middletown transcript., 1912-05-25


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. OF 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 1t might be or how long 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 flash. 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.
1t 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 headway at
all against it. 1t was a local storm;
If he could have looked through the
snow he would have discovered calm
ness on the top of the peaks. It 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-
tion 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-
sistence Of Armstrong. The two most
powerful passions which move human
ity were at his service; love led him
and hate drove him. And the two
were so intermingled that it was diff
ficult to say which predominated, now
one and now the other. The resultant
Of the two forces, however, was an
onward move that would not be de-
MED.
His fur coat was soon covered with
snow and ice, the sharp needles Of the
storm cut his face wherever it was ex.
posed. The wind forced its way
through his garments and chilled him
to the bone. He had eaten nothing
since the night before, and his vital
ity was not at its flood, but he pressed
on, and there was something grand
in his indomitable progress. Excel.
sior!
Back in the hut Kirkby and Maitland
sat around the fire waiting most imra,
tiently for the wind to blow itself out
and for that snow to stop falling
through which Armstrong struggled
forward. AS he followed the windings
Of the canon, not daring to ascend to
the summit on either wall and seek
short cuts across the range, he was
sensible that he was constantly rising.
There were many indications to his
experienced mind; the decrease in the
height of the surrounding pines, the
increasing rarity Of the icy air, the
growing difficulty in breathing under
the sustained exertion he was making,
the quick throbbing of his accelerated
heart, all told him he was approaching
his journeys end.
He judged that he must now be
drawing near the source Of the stream,
and that he would presently come
upon the shelter. He had no means of |
ascertaining the time He would not |
nave dared to unbutton his coat to
glance at his watch, and it is difficult |
70 measure the flying minutes in such |
scenes as those through which he pass
ed, but he thought he must have gone
az least seven miles in perhaps three
hours, which he fancied had elapsed.
his progress in the last two having /
Deen frightfully slow. Every foot of |
advance he had had to fight for.
Suddenly quick turn in the canon.
passage through a narrow entrance
DetWeen lofty cliffs. and he found him
self in a pocket or a circular ampbi-
tneater which he could see was closed
on the farther side The bottom of this
enclosure or valley was covered with |
pines, now dropping under tremendous
burdens OF snow. In the midst of the
pines lakelet was frozen solid: the
Ice was covered with the same daz-
zling carpet of white.
He could have seen nothing of this
had not the sudden storm now stonned
as prectpitately almost as it had ha-
gun. Indeed, accustomed to the 1rav.
ness Of the snow fall, his ewes were
fairly dazzled by the bright light Of |
the sun, now quite high over the |
range, which struck him full in the
face.
He stopped, painting, exhausted. and |
leaned against the rocky wall Of the
canon's mouth which here rose sheer
over his head. This certainly was the
end Of the trail, the lake was the |
source Of the frozen rivulet along |
whose rocky and torn banks he had |
tramped since dawn. Here, If any,
where, he would find the object of his |
quest.
Refreshed by a brief pause. and
encouraged by the sudden stilling of
the storm, he stepped out Of the canon |
and ascended a little knoll whence he
had full view Of the pocket over the
tops Of the pines Shading his eyes |
from the light with his hand as best he
could, he slowly swept the circumfer-
ence with his eager glance, seeing
nothing until his eye fell upon huge
broken trail of rocks projecting from /
the snow, indicating the ascent to a
broad shelf Of the mountains across
the lake to the right. Following this
ne saw huge block Of snow which
suggested dimly the outlines of a
hut!
Was that the place? Was she there?
He stared fascinated and as he did SO