Evening star., 1915-05-16
SUNDAY MAGAZINE FOR MAY l6, 1915

packer who stopped him on the trail. |
Thankful that there was still some kind
liness in the world, he made his stuff into |
a pack with his overalls, and struck off |
into the woods, intent on winning new
foothold.
Still there was no luck. He succeeded
in finding enough for more provisions, of
the scantiest, and yet his stock of per-
severance and cheerfulness held the as
cendancy
"I'll get it yeti" he assured those whom
he met on his rare visits to the camp.
And they smiled and shook their heads |
when his back was turned. Heinrich was
actually annoyed at the sight of him, and
referred to him as shiftless ne eer-do-well.
If this came to Konrad's s ears, he did not |
mention it, but strove to keep brave and
undaunted heart.
HIS last spark of faith in his former
friend was lost on the day when the
postmaster hailed him from the road down
which he trudged and told him there was
a letter for him. Konrad looked at it a |
long time before he opened it. 1t was
long since he had received letter in that |
known handwriting, and with the German
stamp. 1t was from the girl on the Rhine,
and conveyed the news that she had heard |
indirectly, through Heinrich, that konrad
was worthless. She regretted to hear this,
and hoped he would go to work. and be-
come a real man, such as he used to be. |
Perhaps it would have been better, after
all, if he had never left the Fatherland |
There was postscript at the bottom
Of ba af told Ennrol hot cho hol n |
been married now for three months to the |
nice, industrious man.
For once the big heart cried and
quailed. For once there seemed no light |
in the skies, no future: nothing but clouds.
Neither man nor woman remembered.
Nothing was steadfast and true. Fidelity |
was a myth, all life fraud
Buffeted by Fate, beaten by ill luck,
driven almost to his knees, for the first |
time in his life he covered, and wandered
aimlessly in a mental wreck. He could |
swim against the seas of the storm-tossed
straits, tighten his belt against hunger,
shut out the memories of unfaithful
friends; but this was the battle that could
not be fought to victory. 1t was the rrev-
ocable! He crept through the woods like
beaten thing, MANNED by wounds, until
he could gather himself
And then the miracle of the brave, that
mysterious, ineXplicable quality of spirit
that has manifested itself since brave men
began, worked upon him. He shut his
teeth, clenched his hands, gathered him
self, and began anew He measured him.
self as he was, and as he had been. He
would profit by mistakes. He would go
back to Dutchmans Gulch; for it was
there that he had had his chance and
there that he had thrown it away. Very
well! He would go back there erase all
the intervening years. and become konrad
again, fearless, hopeful, and resolute!
THE Gulch was uninhabited on that
MONDAY when he re9ntered it. The
doors of the deserted cabins swung on
rusted hinges in the morning wind. No
plume of smoke waited upward into the
blue sky. No sound of rocker or of pick
breaking into the soft bedrock told of toll
Gone! All gone! Gone the songs of the
men of the Rhine, gone the cheerful shouts
of men coming down the trails! Here
they had come at his behest Here they
had profited. while he the imnroyident