Judsonia weekly advance., 1918-03-20

hung pictures, dainty black-and-white prints, and a water color or two. And between the pictures were nailed heads of mountain sheep and goat, the ant lers of deer and caribou. Above the fireplace spread the huge shovel horns of moose. bearing across the prongs shotgun and fishing rods. The center of the flOor-itself, as she could see, of hand-smoothed logs-was frightened with great black and red and yellow rug of curious weave. Covering up the bare surface surrounding 1t were bearskins, black and brown. Her feet rested in the fur of a monster silver tip, fur thicker and softer than the pile of any carpet ever fabricated by man. All around the walls ran shelves hlled with books. A guitar stood in one corner, mandolin in another.
 Except for the dust that had gath cred lightly In its owners absence, the place was as neat and clean as If the housemaid had but gone over 1t. Hazel shrugged her shoulders. Roaring Bill Wagstaff became, If anything, more of an enigma than ever, in the light of his dwelling. She recollected that Cariboo Meadows had regarded him askance, and wondered why.
 He came in while her gaze was still rowing from one object to another, and threw his wet outer clothing, boy 1ashion, on the nearest chair.
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 Please don't forget, MT. Wagstaff," 1" she replied coldly. "that would much prefer not to be here."
 He stood moment regarding her with his odd smile. Then he went into the adjoining room. Out of this he presently emerged, dragging a small steamer trunk. He opened 1t, got down on his knees, and paved over the con- tents. Hazel, looking over her shoul- der, saw that the trunk was filled with woman's garments. and sat amazed.
 Say, little person." Bill finally re- marked, Tit looks to me as If you could outfit yourself completely right here."
 T don't know that I care to deck myself in another woman's finery, thank you," she returned perversely.
 "Now, see here," Roaring Bill turned responsibility; "see here"
 He grinned to himself then, and went again into the other room, returning with small, square mirror. He plant ed himself squarely in front of her, and held up the glass. Hazel took one look at her reflection, and she could have struck Roaring Bill for his au- dacity. She had not realized what an altogether disreputable appearance a normally good-looking young woman could acquire In two weeks on the trail, with no toilet accessories and only the clothes on her back. She tried to snatch the mirror from him. but Bill eluded her reach, and laid the | glass on the table.
 You'll feel a whole lot better able to cope with the situation" he told her smilingly, "when you get some decent clothes on and your hair fixed. That's a woman. And you don't need to feel squeamish about these things. This trunks got history, let me tell you. A bunch of simon-pure tenderfeet strayed into the mountains west of here couple of summers ago. There were two women in the bunch. The youngest one, who was about your age and size, must have had more than her share of vanity. I guess she fig ured on charming the bear and the moose, or the simple aborigines who dwell in this neck of the woods. Any- how, she had all kinds of unnecessary ixings along, that trunkful of stuff in the lot. You can imagine what a nice time their guides had packing that on horse, eh? They got into a deuce of pickle finally, and had to abandon lot of their stuff, among other things the steamer trunk. lent them a hand. and they told me to help myself to the stuff. So I did after they were out of the country. That's how you come to have a wardrobe all ready to your hand. Now, you'd be awful foolish to act like mean and stiff-necked female person. You're not going to, are you I" he wheedled. Because I want to make you comfortable. Whats the use of getting on your dignity over a little thing like clothesT
 "I don't intend to-" Hazel suddenly changed front. "Tll make myself as