The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1912-07-18


"This one is ready for service, and
you will find a revolver on the shelf
There is only one possible way of &C.
cess to this cabin; that's down those
rock stairs. One man, one woman.
child, even, with these weapons could
hold it against an army"
Couldn't l go with your
ION that foot?"
Enid pressed her wounded foot upon
the ground. 1t was not so painful
when resting, but she found she could
not walk step on it without great
suffering.
II might carry you part of the way"
said the man. 81 carried you last
night, but it would be impossible, all
of it,
Promise me that you will be back
by nightfall, with Uncle Bob and"
81 shall be back by nigntfall, but l
can't promise that | will bring any
body with me-"
You mean?"
"You saw what the cloudburst near
ly did for you" was the quick an
swer. eff they did not get out of that
pocket. there is nothing left of them
now"
but they must have escaped per-
sisted the girl, fighting down her
alarm at this bluns statement of posi-
BILE peril Besides, Uncle Robert and
most of the rest were climbing one of
the peaks, and"
"They will be all right, then; but if
| am to find the place and tell them
your story, must go now"
He turned, and without another
word or backward glance, scrambled
down the hill. The girl limped to the
brink of the cliff over which he had
plunged and stared after him. She
watched him as long as she could see
him, until he was lost among the
trees. If she had anybody else to de-
pend upon. she would certainly have
felt differently toward him; when
Uncle Robert, and her aunt, and the
children, and old Kirkby, and the rest
surrounded her, she could hate that
man in spite of all he had done for
her, but now she stared after him de-
terminedly making his way down the
mountain and through the trees. 1t
was with difficulty she could restrain
herself from calling him back.
The silence was most oppressive,
the loneliness was frightful. She had
been alone before in those mountains,
but from choice; now the fact that
there was no escape from them made
the sensation very different one.
She sat down and brooded over her
situation until she felt that If she did
not do something and in some way di-
vert her thoughts she would break
down again. He had said that the
cabin and it's contents were hers. She
resolved to inspect them more close
| ly. She hobbled back into the great
room and looked about her again.
{ There was nothing that demanded
! careful scrutiny. She wasn't quite
sure whether she was within the pro-
prieties or not, but she seized the old.
est and most worn Of the volumes on
the shelf. 1t was text book on min
ing and metallurgy, she observed, and
opening It TO the fly leaf, across the
page she saw written in a firm, Wig
orous masculine hand a name, Evil
liam Berkeley Newbold," and be-
meath these words, "Thayer Hall, Har
vard,' and a date some seven years
back.
The owner Of that book, whether the
| hod n
college man. Say that he had gradu
ated at twe1ty-one or twenty-five, he
would be twenty-eight or twenty-nine
years old now, but if so, why that
white hair? Perhaps, though. the
book did not belong to the man of the
cabin.
She turned to other books on the
shelf Many of them were technical
books, which she had sufficient gen
eral culture to realize could be only
available to man highly educated
and special student of mines and
mining-a mining engineer, she de
cided, with glance at those instru
ments and appliances Of scientific
character plainly, but of whose actual
use she was ignorant.
A rapid inspection OF the Other
books confirmed her in the conclusion
that the man of the mountains was
indeed the owner of the collection
There were a few well worn volumes
Of poetry and essays, Shakespeare,
Bible, Bacon, Marcus Aurelius, Epicte
tus, Keats, small dictionary, a com
pendious encyclopedia, just the books
she thought, smiling at her conceit
/ that a man of education and culture
would want to have upon desert Is
land where his supply of literature
would be limited.
The old ones we.e autographed as
the first book she had looked in; 9th
ers, newer additions to the little II
brary, if she could judge their condi
ton, were unsigned.
Into the corner cupboard and the
drawers, of course, she did not look
There was nothing else in the room
| to attract her attention, save some
piles Of manuscript neatly arranged
on one of the shelves, each one cover
ed with square of board and kept
in place by pieces of glistening quartz
There were four of these piles and an
other half the size of the first four
on the table. These, of course, she die
not examine, further than to note thai
the writing was in the same bold
free hand as the signature In the
books. If she had beeu an expert she
might have deduced much from the
writing; as it was, she fancied it was