The daily Alaskan., 1914-06-09
THE HONOR
 MAN
How He Made Good.
By VINGIE E. ROE pyri.nt by Frank A. MunBey Co

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 The grcut. pine shaggy shouiderB or tine Cascades reared against the tur- uuuise summer sky. Far down below tue turbulent white waters Of the Rogue river foamed in their wild bed, and their murmur rose to the mountain crests.
 Halfway between the two extremes tine roadway climbed by steady grades along the giant hills.
 Along this road for a matter of @ mile were scattered little groups of men still at work upon it. They wore oyeraUs and sateen shirts, and there wss nothing in their appearance to diff lrreutiate them from other men, yet they were couyicts.
 Farther on the pine shantes and tents uf the honor camp struggled along the road, hugging 1t close by rea' son of the stecpness of the hills.
 Here there was a cook shack where the life os the camp centered. There was mo sign of authority anywhere anH NcCounel, the superintendent went about unarmed as far as any one knew.
 A quarter mile from the camp, just below the roadbed, a single man work cJ alone with pick and shovel deepen ing a wash from a culvert pipe.
 He WIS about thirty, dark eyed and haired. though the short curls at his temples were dusted with gray. Be was slim and agile, with the suggeS- tior Of football and the track meet in every line of bis body.
 He looked out of place as he Ia, bored. stopping from time to dme to gaze off over tine feathery whispering slopes dropping so swiftly to the river below.
 Heavens" be said aiOud-"tne good green earth"
 Presently, as he worked, holding his eyes to the prosaic task under his hand with an effort, a girl came along around the bend on the road above him.
 Hello impostori" she called in o strong conUalto voice that carried srrcuIidly in the clear air.
 He strengthened and looked up with a smile
 Not ou your ufem he said. Haven't fold you I'm where I belong?"
 Nix" said the girl shortly, and, sit, ting down on the i'll, she dropped her length to the sloping surface @ little above him. where she sat down, drew uD her knees, clasped them in her arms and smiled at him with clear, womanly gray eyes.
 You're an impostOr. You're not one of the boys at heart"
 "Nog" he said cautiously at thls blunt opening of the tacitly shunned subject of the camp. You're wide astay.
 She shook her brown head.
 "I know a man." she said simply from d criminal"
 He smiled a trife grimly.
 Not in this case" he said. "You don't know what's in my heart" She did not speak, but under beI breath she said to herself sharply:
 Pity ] don't" She was McCOnneTs daughter, ant her parole was more important thar ! the governors in the honor camp.
 ''I might be medItating escape Tight now" he said, flicking his eyes up ward at her face as he bent to his in 1 terrupted work again.
 Its a mighty call-R mighty call | that of the open woods and thu ! streams"
 ! He stopped again and looked dowr over the whispering pine tops to th' roaring river.
 ITO you more than to those others, ] she said, nodding her head toward tht bend ahead which hid the scattered ! grouDs, and a common man might an 1 swer it. You are of better hber." l They both fell silent, while the rive roared and the little winds played h the pine tops.
 He did not look up again, and sht watched his broad shoulders and htht hips give and take with the motion O ! the pick for a long time.
 Her gray eyes were speculative an' very tender, while a tense line of anE ierv drew in around her lips. Pres entrv she shifted her position a Ulhe l As she did so a tiny stone under he