Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-02-16

over MS ears ana reached Tor his maCk1naW
coat Heads had decided that he was to
| take the ordeal. Neither said a word
until he stood with his hand on the door
| latch.
I'll be back by day after tomorrer morn
in" he said quietly. "If I'm not, you'll
understand, and then it II be your turn to
| try"
| Dave nodded slowly EYES," he replied,
| "if you re not back by then, I'll know that
you-' and turned away
The door opened to admit the sullen
moan of the coming storm, the deathly chill
of the air, and the harsh, weaving blackness
e the night. 1t closed again abruptly. For
an instant Dave stood there, his face twisting,
his hands clenching, his breast heaving, and
then made dash for the door. He jerked
it open, and, needless of disturbing the sick
man, shouted:
"Charley! Oh, Charley! Goodby, Boy!
| Goodby!"
Only the roar of the storm and the pines
answered, and they seemed bent on drown
ing that longing cry of old friendship
aroused, that shrek of regret. Canada
| Charley had gone. Dave went back into
the room where old Ben lay, to do what he
could, and to listen to the babbling of the
dellrious voice, and to brood.
InUR northern billiards aren't easy to
~ face, believe me! They don't come
often; but when they do Death races in
their folds. I've found animals frozen in
their coverts. I've fought for shelter with
them, in that truce of desperation. And so,
into this, 1.-THE and strong and travelling by
instinct, and shielding himself as best he
could, or painting YEARLY when the wind
gained the best of it, plunged Canada Char
ley. Sometimes he feared he had lost his
way, which led him for more than twenty
miles along the lake, after which he hoped
to find the old trappers' trail that led up
toward the tops of the hills. He lost an
| hour furnbling along the beach at the point
where he thought it should begin, and then
found it and stumbled along in the woods
where the big trees sheltered him somewhat,
and covered brush sprang to catch his snow
shoes.
| And so, shortly before daybreak, he was
still stumbling forward, chilled, tired, and
yet determined. He knew that a hunters
cache would supply him breakfast and
leanto shelter, and fairly fell into this little
| log storehouse. 1t was hard work to keep
| from doing in that warmth; but he reso-
lutely forced himself out into the murky
dawn to make the last twenty miles of his
run. He went stronger, after that pause and
the 1000, ana IL was easier, now that he
could see the little lane through the woods,
instead of stumbling from it at intervals, as
he had done through the night.
And so it was that at eleven o'clock of
that ugly day a man, ice coated round the
face where his breath had CONCEALED, and
ice coated over his mackinaw where the
heat of his body had worked outward,
trudged doggedly into MacGill's, where a
little village had sprung up around the
headquarters of the big lumber company.
He went into the biggest store, where
the post-office was situated, and the
crowd of men that was alternating there
during the storm looked at him curiously.
Quick to recognize the distress signs of
travel, they nudged one another; for here
was man who had escaped from the white
death.
Charley lost no time in talking to them,
but addressed the man behind the counter.
"Where can | find the doctors shop?" he
asked
Cabin up at the furder end of the street.
Can't miss it"
Without word Charley turned and
walked out. The tin sign hanging from the
cabin displayed, in new gilt letters, the
legend, doctor Henry Thorne" Canada
| 4 Il 4