The Yale expositor., 1920-12-16
CHAPTER iI-Contlnued.


the man. Involuntarily his hand felt
for the pistol at his hip; he whirled
toward the door The woman clutched
his arm. He caught the appeal In her
eyes; bowed his head; turned back to
the table.
A tense bit of pantomime II had
been, full enough Of meaning. OF hui
man interest, TO anyone able to trace
hack through the years the snarled
life-threads OF the actors: the two
river waits staring down at the mask;
the hard man striding away up the
river road.
The woman went back TO her chair
and resumed her quick, nervous rock
Ing.
"And so he has come TO this" she
muttered. my poor, poor cousin
What must have heen her fate!'
She leant forward and sat still and
thoughtful her face propped in her
palm. The man stood by the table.
lingering the hit Of cloth, his eyes,
stern and severe, still Irresistibly
drawn In the direction the intruder
had gone.
A hail came up from the houseboat.
The sudden cry half startled them
both, coming so close asst did on the
heels of that tense moment barely
gone.
"It's the Boss. promised to go
spearing with him tonight"
Stepping to the door, he opened It
and answered the hail came back;
slid the teakettle off the fire; closed
the damper of the stove and snuffed
the candle.
"Now, mother, don't attempt to
clear away the dishes. Leave them
till get back. TIL only be gone lit
tie while"
The woman made no answer. The
red mask still lying upon the table
caught his eye. Rolling It up, he hid
1t under loosened chink In the cabin
wall, picked up his hat and started
for the door; hes!tated; came back to
the rocking chair.
"You won't be-afraid-?
She looked up at him In quick sur
prise. A half frown clouded the Iuster
Of her eyes.
"What question ~
He turned and left the cabin; closed
the door after him and strobe down
the slope to the household.
The men who hunted the river mus
eel along the Wabash before the days
Of the button industry hunted II for
the pearl sometimes found imbedded
between its flesh and shell. Struggling
up and down the streams, often singly,
sometimes In crews. they were a shift
less. fiery, reckless breed-of a feather
with the buccaneers Of other days. and
led on by the same lure; a chance
fling at fortune. A pearl of great
value was sometimes found-even run
ming well up into The thousands. But
the chance of finding such a pearl was
small. Still there was the chance, and
1t is surprising what a certain type
Of men will endure for such chance,
when the same ends might be at
tanned, certain and sure. by patient in
dustry.
A griZzled old river man sat with
the nose of his skiff jammed up on the
gravel by the bow of the houseboat
when the Pearlhunter came down the
slope. The Boss they called him, the
river men, because in his long years 10
the industry he had managed to
scrape together an "outfit" and work
a crew of "clammers" too poor to hunt
alone. His hands were still upon the
oars. The Pearlhunter pushed the
boat Off and sprang In. directing the
Boss TO row around by the stern Of the
hOusebOat after the fish spear he had
been filing that afternoon.
"See y'u've moved" the Boss oD-
served as the skiff slipped out into the
stream.
Mothers cough" was the answer.
"She thought It would help her to get
up there under the trees"
THAT cough-it'll git away with 'er
II she hain't keerful. She oughta have
medicine"
II told her so, but she won't have
e."
The Boss did not pursue the point
wOman's will was something be
sever took the trouble TO question.
Having rowst out into the current