The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1913-05-23

| veil OF clouds. Only quarter mie
~ the main road was visible, and
mn IT the first wave Of the misty In
undation was marching like a lofty
wall ran toward the stable, cursing
myself in my mad Disappointment.
galloped for 200 yards. and then
the fog gathered me to itself. and
had Just enough sense to pull the
horse to a slow trot.
| could still see the road for dozen
PAGES, but all sense Of proportion and
distance had gone from me. The fog
was not stationary, but curled In
broad confusing wreaths, or poured
sideways upon me In avalanches OF
denser mist. Sometimes the car was
on the road, sometimes OF 1t. Twice
7 nearly capsized. In the end /
climbed down and went to the horses
head, leading it forward at the run.
I made better progress after that.
! Yet 1 was not more than half way
to the cairn hill when from the whirl-
ing shadows to my left there came
a sound that set my heart leaping In
nv breast It was the muf1ed thud OF
a rife.
l stopped, listening and staring into
the mist. A second shot followed. And
then, as If raised by these echoes,
there changed a distant bell, deep
voice of loud alarm from the prison
tower, telling the moor that convict
had escaped, that Julius Craig was
free and that II, miserable fool that
l was, had failed in the trust which
had been placed upon me.
| | tried not to think, but ran stub
bornly on beside the horse with that
Internal bell rioting in my ears. My
life on the moors had put me in
sound condition, and l never slack
ened my pace till l had trotted up the
rise to where the track to the ruined
| farm began. l checked the horse
and walked slowly forward studying
the edge Of the moor besides the high
way for the mark of the grass-grown
ruts knew SO well.
l heard the footsteps long before
| saw him, quick patter upon the hard
surface behind me- AS he came out
of the fog he shouted, bringing his
rife to his hip with an easy swing.
| He was a stoutly built man in the
neat dark uniform that marks the
prison warder.
BE careful with that gum" said;
for he still had me covered
Il beg your pardon, sir" he pant
| Cd hut -
Close to whom?"
There's = convict escaped" he ex-
planned You haven't seen him?"
mo, nor likely to in this weather"
He had got his breath by this time
and stood leaning on his rife, look
ing vaguely about him.
You are right, sir. We stand far
better chance Of losing ourselves than
OF finding him in fog like this. But
one thing is equally certain-he can't
get far, either"
1t was while he spoke that heard
1.-THE clink Of boot striking a
stone. and that not a score of yards
away.
I'm afraid you are only wasting
time.' l said. as carelessly as 1 was
able. "A needle in a haystack IL
easy compared to a convict In a
fog"
Il think I must take your advice,
sir" he laughed.
We wished each other good after
noon, and he melted away as a man
might slide behind a curtain. His
footsteps died out down the road by
which he had come as moved for
ward.
THAT was near thing, Kingsley"
said a voice In the shadows. and I
humbly thanked my luck that Hearne
stepped out upon the road.
I've no excuse" / began. 1T was
all my fault, and"
Hush! keep quiet"
He stood for moment listening
like dog at door.
If that fool OF a warder had not
gone back We were done," he whisper
ed. The guards chased us right into
the ruins. While they searched them
We slipped down the track Come
along. Craig, alrs we'll"
The convict rose from the heather.
where he had lain. and stumbled to-
ward US. He was shaking like a man
with the ague, and the sweat was
running off his forehead and down his
cheeks in narrow streaks.
Am I safer" he suffered, grab.
bing my arm I've money, man.
money. You shall have 1t. swear
you shall have 1t all! But / won't &C
back there-not alive!"
Come. pull yourself together" said
Hearne, with hand on his shout
der. I'VE have no time to waste, re
member"
| We wrapped the long coat over his
yellow clothes, stuck the wig over his