The Watertown news. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1917-1919, 1917-10-24

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Therefore Marina was out gathering
bark and chips. The winter woodpile
was exhausted, but Granny's feebleness
demanded fire. So the girl went out
of bounds, into the woods beyond the
ragged pasture. Men had worked there
In winter cutting timber; she knew
they must have left behind what would
be treasure trove to her. In the dusk
she could not instantly mark the spot,
therefore she went zigzag, feeling with
little, badly shOd foot for what she
sought. Presently she found it and be-
gan eagerly to gather arms and apron
full of it, but stopped with little star
tied cry as she ran plump against a
human figure.
A man indeed! He was clearly no
less startled than she. She looked up
at him-he was very tall-the smother
of mist all but masked him, yet she
| noted that he was clean-shaven and
that his eyes were so deep set that she
could not mark shape or color
what brings you here?" he asked
tensely. She touched her half-fllled
| apron significantly, saying only,
| Need"
els it great enough to make you risk
something's" he asked eagerly. Singu-
larly fear had fallen away from her as
| soon as he spoke. She drew a deep
breath, answering "My need is imme-
| diate-warmth for old age. But If the
| risk is not wicked one, I do not
mind"
"Judge!" he said thickly. II am
hunted-lostrunless I get word to a
friend. Yet ! am not criminal
swear it before your innocence. The
| charge is murder-my pursuers will
hang me first and prove me guilty
afterward. So far have baffled them;
but when you have been tramping, run
ming, falling, getting up, for twelve
hours, you can't 60 much farther. Rest
| Ing little while, / grew chilled. Now
will you bring me food-and take or
send message? You shall have your
reward"
| II want nOne," Marina said, almost
haughtily. "But I shall help you'll
would even if thought you guilty"
THAT makes me believe there is q
God after ALL" the man said huskily.
'But you must be quick-they have set
blOOdhOunds on my trail"
| Marina let fall her burden, united
her apron, stripped off her skirt, and
said hushedly, as she spread them be-
fore him, take these, run fifty yards
from the fire, spread them down, walk
on them, take them up, spread them
again, come back to me and follow me,
still keeping them under your feet"
| "Where will you take me? the man
asked.
Home" she said. BE auckland
be glad that as a child 1 learned to
play the Indian game Of breaking
| trail" ..
| How successfully it was broken was
proved within two hours. The dogs
were utterly at fault after leaving the
| fire. Lanterns showed neither hOOf
marks nor fOotprints-as to the other
| scent the hounds took NO note Of it. So
In the thick dark they could do no
more than wait for daylight. The best
chance was to guard their exits. The
fugitive must be hidden somewhere
within, unless he had escaped by air.
plane.
Instead he lay snug in the loft Of
Granny's lumber house. Marina had
| After that things all but arranged
themselves. Upon the third night Ma
rina made a clean breast of things to
Granny-and got her blessing upon the
closing errand, which was to take the
accused man, William Benton by name,
| out back to the farther turnpike,
where Francis Gallon awaited them
with his swift car. She had hardly
slept since the beginning Of her ad-
venture. After this happy ending Of
| it she nodded so heavily that Gray
Billy had things all his own way. Be-
ing a wise beast withal kindly, he
took his young mistress safely home.
| Murder will out. Less than a month
| after Marina's rescue the real crimi-
nal discovered himself. He was poor
lost soul in tile grip Of recurrent con-
| genital insanity. Then the country
| side shuddered in thankfulness over
| what it had escaped. But before that
| young Francis Gallon had said things
| Of Marina that made Granny'S cheeks
flush and glow as in youth. He had
come to them bearing gifts-registered
gold bonds for $4,000. William Ben
ton had sent them, not in payment but
in gratitude Francis had to make that
very, very plain before proud Granny
would even consider them. Also he
made it plain that Benton was rich
enough never to think again of his gift
and that he would be sadly hurt by its
rejection. Granny began then to con-
slider. Francis, whispering apart with
Marina, turned suddenly upon her a
radiant face, crying: "We don't care
what you do about the money, Granny.
have enough my own self for bread
and cheese and Marina has promised
| to furnish the KISSES"
IF she is going to marry you, as
take it she must be, she must have
dowry," Granny said, twinkling. $50
| you can tell Mr.. Benton we are duly
grateful; pity he can't come to the
wedding"
He did come, after all, to be ac-
claimed by his contemners. AS for Ma
rina, her husband could have had any
gift in the power of his fellow citizens
to reward her for saving them from