Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1915-11-05

take that shack to pieces just as quick
as you know how. Don't leave a
trace. Bring the timbers away and
start telling from that end to meet the
trail"
AS the foreman went among the
men picking his crew, Sandry turned
down across the slough toward the Of
fee. Once settled at his desk, he took
out the records of the Dillingworth
company and began a systematic
search for word of the narrow tract of
hill and timber between the camp and
the fine East Belt.
When Daily returned at quitting
time to report the demolition of the
cabin and the start of the new cutting,
he had found nothing.
That's strange" he said uneasily.
Are these all the records, Daily? Has
anything eyer been destroyed? | can
find nothing bearing on this piece OF
land, and yet the statement turned
over to me by Frazer distinctly says
that everything from the southwest
section corner here at the camp within
a radius of five miles north and east
belongs to US, with numbers. and all
data. What does this Hampden mean,
and what sort Of a tract ia this strip?
l see no mention made of it." 3
"No-that strip was part of the East
Belt. The company bought 1t four
year ago from a busted speculator,
who sold 'em first the north stumpage
an then this at a sacrifice price.
That's why Hampden's always ben so
sore yer it. He wanted 1t himself.
Stafford, the SPECTATORS name was.
A smooth man from the East. There
was some hitch about titles--specially
about this here strip, an the deal hung
fire for some time an Hampden danced
a war dance, he was SO blame anxious
to knock it, but old Frazer beat him
to it an won out. Finally it was
settled an the strip come under the
East Belt deed"
"Oh, l see!" said Sandry, shifting a
sheaf of papers. Here it is. Well,
that's a relief. And now for this Mis-
ter Hampden."
But Hampden was for himself and
with a vengeance.
That evening Sandry met Siletz
across the little meadow back of the
camp, where he had gone for the mail
sack, left swinging on the forked stick
set up beside the county road. 1t had
been a very wet day, with heavier
showers than usual, and the wells of
fog chung low along the hills. The
little drops of mist were thick on her
flannel shirt and on the two braids
which hung down across her breast,
round and girlish under the clinging
wooden garment. AS she came up to
him he noticed the look of her eyes,
and knew that something had stirred
the emotions beneath that quiet ex-
terror.
Been up on the ridge?" he asked,
vexed that it should take a slight eff.
fort to keep his voice to the common
place. This girl in her natural setting
always took him out of the everyday
affected him like a play with lowered
lights, soft music and alien scenes.
YES" she said dreamily, falling in.
to the whimsical speech that only es.
capped her when she stood apart on the
hills, or listened to the pines, ct came
tonight"
"It?"
Sandry had gone a little way to meet
her and the camp vas shut from sight
by a clump of spruce, new growth and
low-branched.
"Yes-the light. Oh, the great lights
red and gold and purple. When the
sun breaks through Just at the last
And I know the ocean is under it
blue and purple, too, like the hills
Some day I'll see it"
you picture these things. dom