The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1914-05-22

u1c duO Ay uScuJlOu ri.
"And It came to nothing In the end2'
Kendrick asked.
Nothing" Quimby answered. Ell
had to creep back to Baldpate noun
tain finally, broke and discouraged.
have been here ever since. All my
locked away forever in a chest up Ii
the attic"
mot forever, Quimby," Kendrick re
piled. 81 always did believe in your
invention. l believe in it still. When
/ get back into the harness Pm sure
can do something for you.
"Im going to lay a stretch of track
in Reuton with your joints. That's all
you need. They'll have to use 'em
then. Well force the Civic into II,
We can do it, Quimby-we surely can
Quimby rubbed his hand across his
eyes.
At 4 in the morning Baldpate inn,
wrapped in the arms of winter, had ali
the rare gayety and charm of a base.
ball bleachers on Christmas eve. Look.
ing gloOmily out the window, Mr.. Ma.
gee heard behind him the steps on the
stairs and the low cautions of Quimby.
and two men he had brought from the
village, who were carrying something
down to the dark carriage that waited
outside. He did not look round. It
was a picture he wished to avoid.
So this was the end-the end of his
two and a half days of solitude-the
end of his light hearted exile on Bald
pate mountain. He thought of Bland.
lean and white of face, gay Of garb,
fleeing through the night, his Arabel-
Ia fiction disowned in the real tragedy
that had followed. lie thought Of Car.
gan and Max, also fleeing, wrathful,
%sneering. by BANDS side. He thought
Of Hayden, jolting down the mountain
in that black wagon. So it ended.
So it ended-most preposterous end
with William Hallowell Magee madly,
desperately, in love. BY the gods-in
love.
Quimby dragged into the room, the
strain Of a rather wild night in Upper
Asquewan Falls in his eyes.
Jake Peters asked me to tell you
he amt coming back" he said. mis-
Quimby is getting breakfast for you
down at III house. You better pack
up now and start down, l reckon.
Your train goes at half past g.
Mrs. Norton jumped up, proclaiming
that she must be aboard that train at
any cost. Miss Thornhill, the profess
o and Kendrick ascended the stairs
and Magee gathered his things tOgeth-
err, put them in his bags and with a
last look at No. Z closed the door for
ever on its many excitements.
A shivering group awaited him at
the foot of the stair. Mrs. Norton's
hat was on at an angle even the most
imaginative milliner could not have
approved. The professor looked older
than ever; ven Miss ThOrnhill seemed
a little less %statuesque and handsome
In the dusk. Quimby led the way to
the door. they passed through it and
Mr.. Magee locked it after them with
the key Hal Bentley had blithely given
him on Forty-fOurth street, New York.
So Baldpate inn dropped back into
the silence to slumber and to wait.
Down the snowy road the five fol-
lowed Quimby's lead.
"Come right in, all of you," CHR
ruped Mrs. Quimby, ushering them
into a pleasant odor of cookery. Take
off your things and sit down. Break
fast's most ready. My land, l guess
you must be pretty nigh starved to
death! Quimby told me who was cook
ing for you. and l says to Quimby:
What l says, that no account wo-
man hater messing round at a wo-
mans job, like that l says. Heaven
pity the people at the inn.' l says. Mr..
Peters may Ike able to amuse them
with stories of how Cleopatra whiled
away the quiet Egyptian evenings l
says, and he may be able to throw a
little new light on Helen Of Troy, who
would object to having it thrown If
she was alive and the lady think her,
but l says, when it comes to cooking,
l guess he stands about where you do,
Quimby.' You see, Quimby's repertory
| consists Of coffee and soup, and some
times it's hard to tell which he means
for which,"
$50 Mr.. Peters has taken you in on
| the secret of the book he is writing
against your sex" remarked Billy Ma.
gee.
mot exactly that" Mrs. Quimby
| answered.. brushing back a wisp OF
gray hair. ''but he's discussed it in my
presence, ignoring me at the time. You
see, he comes down here and reads his
latest chapters to Quimby O nights,
and I've caught quite a lot of it on my
way between the cook stove and the
sink"
81 amt no judge of books" remark
ed Mrs. Norton from a comfortable
rocking chair. "but I'll bet that ones
the limit"
"You're right. ma'am," Mrs. Quimby
told her. 81 amt saying that some Of
It amt real pretty worded, but that's
Just to hide the falsehood underneath
My land. the lies there is in that book
Yoa don't need to know much abou
history to know that Jake Peters ha
made it v to fit his argument an
that he amt made it Over so well bu