The Snowflake herald., 1918-05-17
Slowly Macdonald Moved Toward 1t.

RAN-.<zS~
Slowly Macdonald Moved Toward 1t.
days travel, but that had meant get
ting on the trail with the first gleam of
light. When he opened his eyes Mrs.
Olson was calling him to rise.
He dressed and stepped out into the
cold, crisp morning. From the hill
crotch the sun was already pouring
down a great, fanlike shaft of light
across the snow vista. saltwater
Pete passed behind him on his way to
the stable and called a cheerful good
morning in his direction.
Mrs. Olson had put the stove outside
the tent and Gordon lifted it to the
spot where they did the cooking.
"Good morning, neighbor," he called
to Sheba. "Sleep well?"
The little rustling sounds within the
tent ceased. A face appeared in the
doorway, the flaps drawn discreetly
close beneath the chin.
"Never better. Is my breakfast
ready YETI"
"Come and help me make it. Mrs.
Olson is waiting on Holt"
"When I'm dressed" The smiling
face disappeared. dublin Bay" sound
ed in her fresh young voice from the
tent. Gordon joined in the song as he
lit the fire and sliced bacon from q
frozen slab of it.
The bowling of the huskies inter-
rupted the song. They had evidently
heard something that excited them.
Gordon listened. Was it in his fancy
only that the breeze carried to him the
faint jingle of sleigh-bells? The sound,
If it was one, died away. The cook
turned to his job.
He stopped saving at the meat, knife
and bacon both suspended in the air.
On the hard snow there had come to
him the crunch of a foot behind him.
Whose? Sheba was in the tent, Swift
water at the stable, Mrs. Olson in the
house. Slowly he turned his head.
What Elliot saw sent the starch
through his body. He did not move an
inch, still sat crOuched by the fire, but
every nerve was at tension, every
muscle taut. For he was looking at a
rifle lying negligently in brown, steady
hands. They were very sure hands,
very competent ones. He knew that
| because he had seen them in action.
The owner of the hands was Colby
Macdonald.
The Scotch-Canadian stood at the
edge of a willow grove. His face was
grim as the day of judgment.
Don't move" he ordered.
Elliot laughed irritably. He was both
annoyed and disgusted.
"What do you want?" he snapped.
"You."
whats worrying you now? Do you
think I'm jumping my bond"
"YOu're going back to Kusiak with
me-tO give life for the one you
took"
whats that" cried Gordon, sur
prised.
"Just as I'm telling you. I've been
on your heels ever since you left town.
You and Holt are going back with me
as my prisoners"
"But what for?"
''For robbing the bank and killing
Robert Milton, as you know well
enough"
''Is this another plan arranged for
me by you and Selfridge?" demanded
Elliot.
Macdonald ignored the question and
lifted his voice. "Come out of that
tent, Holland come with your hands
up unless you want your head blown
Off"
"Holt isn't in that tent, you idiot. If
you want to know"
"Come now, If you expect to come
alive" cut in the Scotsman ominously.
He raised the rifle TO his shoulder and
covered the shadow thrown by the sun
on the figure within.
Gordon flung out a wild protest and
threw the frozen slab of bacon at the
head of Macdonald With the same mo-
tiOn he launched his own body across
the stove. A fifth of q second earlier
the tent flap had opened and Sheba
had come out.
The sight Of her paralyzed Macdon-
aid and saved her lovers life. 1t dis
tracted the mine-Owner long enough
for him to miss his chance A bullet
struck the stove and went off at
tangent through the tent canvas not
two feet from where Sheba stood. A
second went speeding toward the sun.
For Gordon had followed the football
players instinct and dived for the
knees of his enemy.
They went down together. Each
squirming for the upper place, they
rolled over and over The rife was
forgotten. Like cave men they fought,
crushing and twisting each others