Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1912-07-16
CHAPTER xIx-tcontinued).

OF1AF En- NlN--kSOhthfASN
Not altogether admirable had been
James Armstrong; outwardly success
full career. In much that is high and
noble and manly his actions-and his
characterized often been lacking, but
even the base can love, and sometimes
love transforms. if it be given a
chance. The passion of Cymon for Iph-
igenia. made a man and prince out or
the rustic boor, and his real love for
Enid Maitland might have done more
for Armstrong than he himself or any
one who knew him as he was. and
few 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 a patient phil
osopher, a good waiter. His rule OF
life was not very high, but in one way
1t was admirable, in that prompt, bold
desire action was his chiefest charac-
teristic.
On this certain morning month
after 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
like challenge. Within its secret re-
cesses lay the solution Of the mystery.
Somewhere, dead or alive, beyond the
soaring rampant was the woman he
loved. 1t was impossible for him to
remain quiet any longer. Common
sense, reason, every argument that
had been adduced, suddenly became of
no weight He lifted his head and
stared straight westward. his eyes
swept the long semicircle of horizon
across which the mighty range was
drawn 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-
resistibly to action.
by Heaven" he said under his
breath, rising to his feet. 'wilSter or
no winter, | 60"
Robert Maitland had Offices in the
same building. Having once come to a
determination, there was no more un-
certainty or hesitation about Arm
he was standing in the private room of
his friend The two men we're not
alone there. Stephen Maitland sat in
a low chair before another window
removed from the desk somewhat,
staring out at the range. The old
man was huddled down in his seat,
every line of his figure spoke of grief
oil n
yer. he liked best his brothers Office
fronting the rampant of the noun.
tains, and hour after hour he sat there
quietly looking at the SUBMITS, some
times softly shrouded in white, some
times swept bare by the fierce winter
gales that blew across them, some.
times shining and sparkling so that
The eye scarce sustain their reflection
of the dazzling sun of Colorado; and
at other times seen dimly through
mists ~ whirling snow.
Oh. yes. the mountains challenged
him also 10 The other side Of the
range His heart yearned for his
child, but 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 him. Robert Maitland
transacted his business a little more
softly, a little more gently, nat was
all. Yet the presence of his brother
was living grief and living re
proach to him Although he was quite
blameless he blamed himself. He had
nor 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 al
fault or how he could have done diff
ferently. II was helpless and hope
less situation. To him. therefore. On
tered Armstrong.
Maitland" he began, Il can't stand
Il any longer. I'm going into the noun
tains"
you are mad."
Il can't help 1t. / can't sit here