The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1918-06-27
North of Fifty-Three
By BERTRAND w. SINCLAIR
Copyright Browns &cJ

| her. But by some peculiar feminine
reasoning she reflected in the same in
stant that If Bill were away from her
In a few weeks he would be all the
more glad to get back. That closed
her mouth. 1t was not wise to be too
meek or obedient where husband
was concerned. That was another mite
Of wisdom she had garnered from the
wives of her circle.
So she kissed Bill good-by at the
station next day with perfect good hu-
NOR and no parting emotion Of any
particular keenness. And If he were
trifle sober he showed no sign of
resentment, nor uttered any futile
wishes that she could accompany him.
80 long," he said from the car
steps. "Tll keep in touch-all / can"
Then he was gone.
Somehow, his absence made less diff.
ference than Hazel had anticipated.
She had secretly expected to be very
lonely at first. And she was not. Even
when in her hand she held telegram
dated ut a point five hundred or a
thousand miles or double that distance
away she did not experience the feel
ing of complete bodily absence. She
always felt as If he were near. Only
Mt night, when there was no long arm
TO pillow her head. no goodnight kiss
as she dozed into slumber, she missed
him, realized that he was far away.
Early in June came brief wire
from Station Six. Three weeks later
the Free Gold Mining company set
up a mild ripple of excitement along
Broad street by exhibiting in their
office window forty-pound heap of
coarse gold; raw, yellow gold, just as
it had come from the sluice. Every
day knots of men stood gazing at the
treasure. Bill had forwarded the first
cleanup.
And close on the heels of this-ten
days later, to be exact-he came home.
"You great bear" Hazel laughed, in
the shelter of his encircling arms.
"My, it's good to see you again.
She pushed herself back little and
surveyed him admiringly, with a graft
fled sense of proprietOrship. The
cheeks of him were tanned to healthy
brown, his eyes clear ana shining. The
offending flesh had fallen away on the
strenuous paths of the Klappan. He
radiated boundless vitality, strength,
alertness, that perfect coordination of
mind and body that is bred of faring
resourcefully along rude ways. She
thrilled at the touch of his hand, was
content to lay her head on his shoul-
der and forget everything in the joy
of his physical nearness.
They elected to spend the evening
quietly at home, us they used to do.
To Hazel 1t seemed quite like old
times. Bill told her Of the Klappan
country, and their prospects at the
mine.
'It's going to be a mighty big thing"
he declared
'Tm so glad" said Hazel.
'We've got group Of ten claims.
Whitley Lewis and the original stakers
hold an interest In their claims. |,
acting as agent for these other fell
lows in the company, staked five more.
l took. in eight more men-and, be-
lieve me, things were hummlng when
l left. And, say, l went in by the
ranch. Old Jake has fine garden.
He's still begging away with the mule
'und Gretchen, der cow offered him
chance to make fat little stake at
the mine, but he didn't want to leave
the ranch. Great old feller, Jake.
Something Of a philosopher in his way.
Pretty wise old head. He'll make
good, all right"
In the morning, Bill ate his break
fast and started downtown.
"That's the dickens of being busi-
ness man." he complained to Hazel,
in the hallway. 1T rides man, once
it gets hold of him. Adios, little per-
son. I'll get out for lunch, business
or no business"
Eleven-thirty brought him home,
preoccupied and frowning. And he
carried his frown and his preoccupa-
ton to the table.
whatever is the matter, Billf' Ha-
eel anxiously inquired.
"Oh, I've got nasty hunch that
there's a niger in the wOodpile," he
replied.
And that was all he vOuchsafed.
He finished his luncheon and left the
house. He was scarcely out Of sight
when Jimmie Brooks runabout drew
up at the curb. A half minute later
he was ushered into the living room.
''Bill in?" was his first query.
mo, he left just few minutes
ago." Hazel told him.
Mr. Brooks, short, heavy-set, neat
ly dressed gentleman, whose rather
weak blue eyes loomed preternaturally
large and protuberant behind pince-
nez that straddled an insignificant Snub
nose, took off his glasses and twiddled
them in his white, well-kept fingers.