Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-09-15

hand outstretched; then all was con-
fusion and struggle. With the hoarse
snarl of a beast, Cassion leaped for
ward, struck La Forest with his shoul-
der, and drove sword point into DAT
ugny. De Tonty gripped him. but was
hurled aside by insane strength. reel
Ing back so that the weight of his body
struck me to my knees. The next in
slant, his sword point dripping blood,
the runner was beyond reach, speeding
Tor the open gate. What followed I
know from word of others, and no
view l had of it.
DArt1gny had fallen, huddled in a
heap on the grass, and I dragged NV
self to him on my knees. / heard oaths.
a shutting of feet, a rush of bodies. a
voice | did not recognize shouting
some order-then the sharp crack of a
rifle, n silence. I cared not what
had occurred; l had D'Artigny's head
in my arms, and his eyes opened and
smiled up at me full of courage.
"You are badly hurt?"
mo, | think not; the thrust was too
high. Lift me, and I breathe better
The man must have been mad"
Surely yes, monsieur; think you he
had hope of escape?"
"'Tis likely he thought only of re-
venge. All, you are here also. De
Tonty."
YES, lad; there Is small use for me
yonder. You are not seriously struck? ?"
81 bleed freely, but the thrust was in
the shoulder. l could stand, l think,
with your aid"
On his feet he leaned heavily on us
both, yet would not be led away, until
La Forest Joined US. He held in his
hand some papers, yet neither Of US
questioned him.
Monsieur de Tonty," he said, 81
would have private word with you"
when I help D'Artigny to his bed,
and have look at his wound. Yet is it
not matter of interest to these as
well?"
81 take it So"
"Then speak your message-M. Cas-
sion is dead?"
"The sentry's bullet found his heart,
monsieur"
81 saw him fall. Those papers were
upon him-are they of value?"
"That I know not; they possess no
meaning to me, but they were adj
dressed to the man killed at st. Ig-
mace"
Hugo Chevet?" I exclaimed. my
uncle; may 1 not see them, monsieur?''
De Tonty placed them in my hands
a letter from a lawyer in Quebec, with
a form of petition to the king, and a
report of his search of the archives of
New France. The other document was
the sworn affidavit of Jules Beaubaou.
a clerk of records, that he had seer
and read a paper purporting to be a
restoration from the king to the heirs
of Captain la Chesnayne. 1t was
signed and sealed. l looked up at the
faces surrounding me; startled and
frightened at this witness from the
dead.
'sThey are papers belonging to Che
vet?' asked De Tonty.
Eyes, monsieur-see. He must have
known, suspected the truth before our
departure, yet had no thought such
villainy was the work of M. Cassion.
He sought evidence"
"That is the whole story, no doubt.
La Barre learned of his search, for he
would have spies in plenty, and wrote
his letter of warning to Cassion. The
latter, fearing the worst, and desperate,
did not wen hesitate at murder to
gain possession of these documents.
Fate served him well, and gave him
D'Artigny as a victim. l wonder only
that he did not long ago destroy the
papers,"
There is always some weakness in
crime,' commented La Forest, "and
the man has paid penalty for his. 1t
would be my guess he desired to place
them in La Barrels hands in proof of
his loyalty. But, messieurs, D'Artigny
needs to have his wound dressed. We
can discuss all this later"
s. q = = + y .
It was two days later, and the bright
sunshine rested on Fort st. Louis,
1ecking the sides of the great rock with
gold, and bridging the broad valley
below. D'Artigny, yet too weak to
rise unaided, sat in a chair Barbeau
had made beside the open window,
and to his call l joined him, my arm
on his shoulder as I also gazed down
upon the scene below. 1t was n OF
peace now, the silvery Illinois wind
ing hither and yon among its green
islands, the shadowy woods darken-
ing one bank, and the vast meadows
stretching northward from the other.
Below the bend an Indian village, al
ready rebuilt and occupied, slept in
the sun, and I could see children and
dogs playing before the tepees.
Down the sharp trail from the fort
a line of Indian packers were toiling
slowly, their backs supporting heavy