Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1917-01-18


down into the ebony gulf pierced by
! one point of light, he lifted a menac-
ing arm and shook it. Then he strobe
on, and did not falter till he reached
the huge shelving cliffs. Here he lost
Inc raI1, there was none: but he re-
membered the shapes, the points, the
notches Of rock above. Before he
reached the ruins of splfntered ram
parts and jumbles of broken walls the
moon topped the eastern slope of the
mountain, and the mystifyfng black
ness he had dreaded changed to magic
silver light. 1t seemed as light as day,
only soft, mellow, and the air held a
transparent sheen. He ran up the bare
fldges and down the smooth slopes.
and, like a goat, jumped from rock to
rock. In this light he knew his way.
and lost no time looking for a trail
lie crossed the divide, and then had
all doWnhill before him. Swiftly he
descended, almost always sure of his
memory of the landmarks. He did not
remember having studied them in the
ascent, yet here they were, even in
changed light, familiar to his sight
What he had once seen was pictured
on his mind. And, true as a deer
striking for home. he reached the can
yon where he had left his horse. Bull
let was quickly and easily found.
duane threw on the saddle and pack,
cinched them tight, and resumed the
descent.
Hours passed as moments. Duane
was equal to his great opportunity.
But he could not Quell that self in
him which reached back over the
lapse of lonely, soaring years and
found the boy in him. Duane knew
he was not just right in part Of his
mind. Small wonder that he was not
insane, he thought! He tramped on
downward, his marvellous faculty
for covering rough ground and
holding to the true course
never before even in flight so
keen and acute. Yet all the time a
spirit was keeping step with him.
Thought of Ray Longstreth as he
had left her made him weak. He
saw her white face, with it's sweet
sad lips and the dark eyes so tender
and tragic.
The moon slOped to the west Shad-
ows of trees and crags now crossed
to the other side of him. The stars
dimmed. Then he was out of the rocks,
with the dim trail pale at his feet.
Mounting Bullet, he made short work
of the long slope and the foothills and
the rolling land leading down to Ord.
The little outlaw camp, with it's
shacks and cabins and row of houses,
lay silent and dark under the paling
moon. Duane passed by on the lower
trail. headed into the road, and put
Bullet to a gaIiop. He watched the
dying moon, the waning stars, and the
east. He had time to spare, so he
saved the horse. KnelI would be leav-
ing the rendezvous about the time
Duane turned back toward Ord Be
tween noon and sunset they would
meet.
The night wore on. The moon sank
behind low mountains in the west. The
stars frightened for a while, then
faded. Gray gloom enveloped the
world, thickened, lay like smoke over
the road. Then shade by shade it
lightened, until through the transpar-
ent Obscurity shone a dim light.
Duane reached Bradford before
dawn. He dismounted some distance
from the tracks, tied his horse, and
then crossed over to the station. He
heard the clicking of the telegraph
instrument, and it thrilled him. An
operator sat inside reading When
Duane tapped on the window he look
ed up with startled glance, then went
swiftly to unlock the door.
Hello Give me paper and pencil.
Quick" whispered Duane.
With trembling hands the operator
complied. Duane wrote out the mes
sage he had carefully composed.
"Send this-repeat it to make sure
then keep mum. I'll see you again,
Good-by"
The operator stared, but did not
speak a word.
Duane left as stealthily and swiftly
as he had come. He walked his horse
q couple of miles back on the road
and then rested him till break of day.
When Duane swung into the wide,
grassy square on the outskirts of Ord
he saw a bunch of saddled horses
hitched in front of the tavern. He
knew what that meant. Luck still
favored him. If it would only hold
But he could ask no more. The rest
was q matter of how greatly he could
make his power felt An-open conflict
against odds lay in the balance. That
would be fatal to him, and to avoid
it he had to trust to his name and
presence he must make terrible. He
knew outlaws. He knew what quail
ties held them. He knew what to ex-
aggerate.
There was not an outlaw in sight.
The dusty horses had covered distance
that morning. AS Duane dismOunted
he heard loud, angry voices inside the
tavern. He removed coat and vest,
hung them over the pommel, He pack
ed two guns one belted high on the
left hip, the other one swinging low on
the right side. He neither looked nor
listened, but boldly pushed the door
and stepped inside.