Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1916-03-03

be the well-established custom, some
thing is due to fall in right nowi"
81 have been looking for it all day."
returned Brouillard calmly.
1t was Murray Grislow who finally
rang the curtain call on the prolonged
talk.
Say, mani do you know that it is
after ten o'clock" he demanded, hold
ing the face of his watch down to the
glow of the dying embers. you may
sit here all night, if you like, but it's
me for the blankets. Now, what in the
name of guilty conscience is that?"
AS it chanced, they were both fac
ing toward the lower end of the val
ley when the apparition flashed into
view. In the deepest of the shadows
at the mouth of the gorge. where the
torrenting Niquoia Strengthened itself
momentarily before entering upon its
plunging race through the mountain
barrier a beam of white light flickered
unsteadily for fraction of a second.
Then 1t became a luminous pencil to
trace a zigzag line up the winding
course of the river, across to the foot
hill spur where the camp of the recla-
nation service vanguard was pitched.
and so on around to the base of the
Chigringo. For certain other seconds
it remained quiescent, glowing bale
fully like the eye of some tabled mon
ster searching for its prey. Then it
was gone.
Grislow's comment took the form of
a half-startled exclamation.
by Jove! wouldn't that give you a
fit of the creepies?-th far from civil
lization' and dynamo? What are you
calling it,"
Your guess is as good as mine."
was the half-absent reply. Brouillard
had got upon his feet and was but
toning his many-pocketed shooting
coat
I'm going to take little hike down
yonder for investigation purposes
Want to come along?"
But the mapper of watersheds was
yawning sleepily. Not on your tin
type" he refused. I'm going to cork
| it OFF in me 'ammick.'"
1t was only a short mile from the
camp on the inward slopes of the east.
ern foothills to the mouth of the outlet
gorge. across which Brouillard could
already see, in mental provision, the
great gray wall of the projected Nj
quota dam-his future work-curving
majestically from the broken shoulder
of Chigringo to the opposing sleeps
of Jacks mountain. The half-grown
moon, fitting now toward the skyline
Of the western barrier, was leaving the
canyon portal in deepest. gloom.
Picking his way judiciously because
the trail was new to him, Brouillard
came in due time to the descending
path among the spruces and scrut
pines leading to the western OUTLOOK
upon the desert swales and sandhills
At the canyon portal, where the fores
thinned away and left him standing
at the head of the final descending
plunge in the trail, he found himsel
looking down upon the explanation o
the curious apparition.
None the less, what he saw was IL
itself rather inexplicable. In the frs
desert looping of the river campfire
OF pinyon knots was blazing cheerfully
and beside it, with picnic hamper fo
a table, sat supper party of three
two men and a woman-in envelopint
dust-coats, and third man in chauf
feur leather serving the sitters. Bacl
of the group, and with its detachabl'
searchlight missing, stood huge tour
ing car to account for the picnic ham
per, the dust-coats, the man in leather
and, doubtless, for the apparitional ey,
which had appeared and disappeare'
at the mouth of the upper gorge. Ais
it accounted, in purely physica
sense, for the presence of the picnicb
ers, though the whim which had ler
them to cross the desolate Buckskil
4 desert for the dubious pleasure of max
ing an all-night bivouac on it's easter
edge was not so readily apparent.