The Snowflake herald., 1918-05-17

Like Cave Men They Fought.
life and death hung on the issue.
Chance had lit the spark Of their re-
sentiment, but long-banked passions
were blazing fercely now.
They got to their feet and fought toe
to toe. Sledge-hammer blows beat upon
bleeding and disfigured faces. No
thought of defense as yet was in the
mind of either. The purpose Of each
was to bruise, main, make helpless the
other. But for the impotent little cries
of Sheba no sound broke the stiffness
save the crunch of their feet on the
hard snow, the thud of heavy fists on
flesh, and the thrOaty snarl of their
deep, irregular breathing.
Gid Holt, from the window Of the
cabin, watched the battle with shining
eyes. He exulted in every blow of
Gordon; he suffered with him when
the smashing rights and lefts of Mac
donald got home. He shouted jeers,
advice, threats, encouragement. If he
had had ten thousand dollars wagered
on the outcome he could not have been
more excited.
saltwater Peter, drawn by the
cries of Sheba, came running from the
stable. AS he passed the window, Holt
caught him by the arm.
'sWhat are you aimin' to do, Petei
Let 'em alone. Let 'em go to it. They
got to have it out. Stop 'em now and
they'll get at it with guns"
Sheba ran up, wringing her hands.
"Stop them, please. They're killing
each other"
Nothing of the kind, girl You let
'em alone, Pete. The kids there every
minute, amt he? Gee, that's a good
one, boy. Seven-eleven-ninet
'Attaboy!'
Macdonald had slipped on the snow
and gone down to his hands and knees.
Swift as a wildcat the younger man
was on top of him. Hampered though
he was by his parka, the Scotsman
struggled slowly to his feet again. He
was much the heavier man, and In
spite of his years the stronger. The
muscles stood out in knots on his
shoulders and across his back, whereas
on the body of his more slender oppO-
nent they flowed and rippled in round
ed symmetry. Active as a heather cat
Elliot was far the quicker of the two.
Half-blinded by the hammering he
had received, Gordon changed his
of GOh% II
from the clinch and sidestepped the
bull-like rush of his foe, covering up
as well as he could from the onset.
Macdonald pressed the attack and was
beaten back by hard, straight lefts and
rights to the unprotected face.
The mine-owner shook the matted
hair from his swollen eyes and rushed
again. He caught an uppercut flush on
the end of the chin. 1t did not even
stop him. The weight of his body was
in the blow he lashed up from his
side.
The knees of Elliot doubled up un.
der him like the blade of a jack-knife.
He sank down slowly, turned, got to
his hands and knees, and tried to
shake off the tons of weight that
seemed to be holding him down.
Macdonald seized him about the
waist and flung him to the ground.
Upon the inert body the victor dropped,
his knees clinching the torso of the
unconscious man.
'Now, Pete. Go to him |" urged Holt
wildly.
But before Swiftwater could move,
before the great fist of Macdonald
could smash down upon the bleeding
face upturned to his, a sharp blow
struck the flesh of the raised forearm
and for the moment stunned the mus
cles. The Scotch-Canadian lifted a
countenance drunk with rage, passion
tossed.
Slowly the light of reason came back
into his eyes. Sheba was standing be-
fore him, his rife in her hand. She
had struck him with the butt of it.
"Don't touch him! Don't you dare
touch him !" she challenged.
He looked at her long, then let his
eyes fall to the battered face Of his
enemy. Drunkenly he got to his feet
and leaned against a willow. His
forces were spent, his muscles weight
ed as with lead. But 1t was not this
alone that made his breath come short
ond raggedly.
TO be COntinued)