Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1914-11-27

speak, anu turned ner lace from tne
moonlight. She seemed to be strug.
Cling again with rising sob.
Simon found himself peering, closess
and Internationally, into her eyes. He
stepped hastily back and heard him.
self speaking with boldness he did
not recognize.
"Mebby it was fur him We we're
But hadn't oughter ask that Mehby
it's fur We he's ben grievin'?"
ct couldn't be that
I've wondered. Often I've come on
him when he thought he was alone,
jest settin' and lookin' at nothin'-an'
grievin', l know Simon's face, too,
sought the shadow. 81 know"
1T might be because Of me but not
not for me-"
mot because he wants We, We mean?
But it could be that 'Tain't likely
he'd find two such women as We, even
in the city. An faint likely he'd
trouble so much, If there wasn't a
woman in it. wish We could give him
what he needs
What he needs is to have his life
made over from the beginning. He
can't have that"
IF he's jest wantin' some one,
there's way he could have it"
You don't understand" she said
YEARLY.
mo, 1 don't understand That's the
trouble I'd like to help him, to give
him what he needs. But l don't know
how. There's nothin' / can give him."
He turned his face away from her,
looking up at the furnace, big and
menacing, outlined against the sky.
There was silence among the mills.
From the old village behind them came
tinkle of laughter, a crying child, a
neighing horse From the new town
beyond the mills came no sound but a
single voice in song, wild eery chant
that had been brought from another
land. The song was finished Kazia
and Simon stirred, as though they had
been waiting for its close to bring
their strange encounter to an end.
Whats that?"
Both started From somewhere near
them had come sudden muff1ed
cackle of mirthless uncanny laughter.
Sounds S if it come from the fur
mace. There hadn't oughter be any
body round here. But guess it's just
the Waterman in the power house. The
still night makes it sound like that"
But even as he spoke they saw the
figure of a man crawling from behind
the furnace. He scrambled to his feet
and began to run, with an awkward
hobbling gait, up the tracks toward
the bridge. The moonlight fell full on
his face.
"Piotr!"
AS the cry, in a voice he knew,
reached him, the man stopped sud-
denly, stared wildly about and saw the
two figures advancing on him. He
raised his hands in frantic gesture
'Kazia! Go back-go back!"
She did not heed his warning. "Piotr!
What are you doing?"
Go back!" he screamed You'll
be killed. It's dynamite!"
Instantly the others guessed what
impended Kazia heard a low moan
beside her, saw Simon run, as fast as
his age-stiffened limbs allowed, toward
the furnace, as if he thought to avert
the imminent destruction.
You mustn't" she cried. Come
back"
If the old man heard, he did not
obey. She fed after him, in instructive
purpose to drag him back out of
danger.
They reached Piotr, passed him. He
stood bewildered, glancing uncertainty
toward the refuge of the woods. Then.
with a low whimpering cry, he. too,
joined in that moonlight race. He
could not have overtaken her, had she
not tripped and fallen over a switch.
He flung himself upon her, moaning
shudderingly.
"Kazia, didn't want to hurt YOU"
Simon sped on.
That was what Mark Truitt, crouch
ing where he had last fallen, saw just
before the explosion came. There was
a hoarse deafening roar. The great
furnace seemed to reel, then toppled
and fell.
They found him weakly trying to
remove the debris from place near
the edge of the ruin. They drew him
aside and hundred strong hands took
up his task. Soon they found the dead
Piotr and under him Kazia, still
breathing 1t was not until daybreak
that they came to Simon.
Kazia was carried to the village and
laid in Doctor Hedges own house. All
through the night and in the morning,
until the great surgeon from the city
came, he fought off death. Then the
surgeon took up the fight with
knowledge and skill the old doctor did
not possess. For two days they did
not sleep but watched and battled.
In the adjoining room a man, him.
self the object of the doctors care,
passed through his Gethsemane. The
dead, his own pain and weakness, all
else, were forgotten in his agony for
the one who, it seemed, could not live.
Sometimes he would rise from the