Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1915-03-04
"And 0orr bought it from him?'

MOI YET, ne Sal0, r1sk1nS II state
ment. "Now all l have to do is to find
Mr.. Peddler and get it back"
Mrs. Darnell flung herself into a
chair and laughed Historically.
"You mean to tell me Tom Gallon
hid his plans in a heather idol and
that we overlooked them and that a
rug peddler has them now?'
She leaned forward. %clinching her
soft hands on her knees.
DO you know all you have made
me go through. Harry? kidnapping.
theft, mutdcr-yes. murder-and ut the
end Of it all, when we neither of us
dare breathe for fear of the police fin
ally getting us. you tell me that a
tramp has got what we want! I'm
done!"
Wilkerson had expected and feared
this. He. saw his wild efforts going
for nothing. Without her assistance
and her money he was helpless.
And profounder even than his hatred
Of Dorr and his desire for the hidden
wealth was his agony ut the thought
of his failure to win this woman whom
he loved.
Love is a noun which conveys to the
ordinary mortal no definite meaning
without an adjective. There is. indeed,
an essence Of love, a complete and all
absorbing passion, before which even
the gods bow and against which the
world is powerless. Too often we
must describe it as lawless.
Yet it also exists when it evokes the
reverence Of the most cynical. Will
kerson's love for Jean Darnell was the
very essence Of his being.
1t had made a bravo of a coward.
It had welded a dozen strands Of VI
ciousness, weakness, w%ickedness and
righteousness into a strong charac-
ter-strong only in its relation to the
woman. i t#.5. a. VT
The past few weeks, with their wild
ness, risk, crime and continual plot
ting, had made the Harry Wilkerson
who was a weakling and sport Of cir
cumstances into a personality. who
must be dealt with.
Jean Darnell realized something of
this when he next spoke.
"All this has been Disappointing" he
said quietly, bis eyes burning steadily
on hers. But the more disappoint-
ments + have to overcome the more
worth while it will make you"
"Quite al old time knight" she said
sc%ornfully. but with an effort.
II am going to get that IDOL" he
went on. Il know just two things
there are millions in gold hidden In
the Master Key mine, and the plans
are concealed in that image"
"When will you have them?" she
cried. trying to fight against the mans
evil power.
Tomorrow" he returned.
Gwen if Dorr and Ruth
He nodded gravely. She read the
message in his eyes and shuddered.
Wilkerson laughed. He had won He
had conquered not only the woman in
that moment. but himself.
He was ready to 40 murder deliber-
ately, without a qualm. There had
been born in him another physical
th%irst-the blood lust. I
He left Immediately without uncov-
ering his plans. He knew that the
final victory would not be won until
be could fill Jean Darnell's soft and
nvaricious palms with glittering gold,
heaps Of gold, gold that raj over, that
spilled in l%uxuriant streams over her
clutching fingers; gold that rang under
her feet, that mounted like an envel-
oping food about her till her flesh was
bathed in it.
That night he paced the floor of his
soom, dreaming of gold and of blood.
So the next morning when John Dorr
Jared forth on his quest for the rug
peddler Harry Wilkerson was not far
behind him, watching bis every move,
studying him, trying to read what was
In his mind. And all with the great
question before him:
Had John Dorr the idol?
While these two were seeking for
the strange image Of an unknown god
there. was a, third who had found in 1t
the goal Of his life's toll.
When God c~onceals himself from US
in time Of stress and agony, when he
has closed his brazeny heavens and OUT
prayers die in the empty air 1t IS hu'
man to build for ourselves a tangible
God, one whom we a see and feel.
into whose face we can look and be-
fore whose feet we can, lay our Oher-
ings and our petitions.
In a far city in India men had died
of famine. The earth had turned to
iron under their plows and the heavens
to brass above them.
They had im%plored4as hundred gods
for help and made offerings at a thou
sand shrines. There had been no re-
Spouse. The smoke ae the burning
CHATS by the side Of the shrunken riv-
er told the sorry tale Of prayer unan-
swered.
And in their last misery men turned.
as men will. to one who dreamed. Re
atty was death. Dreams held out the
promise Of life. .
And this dreamer, as do all who fol-