Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1920-04-23
A BLAZED TRAIL
BY DORA NOLAN.
90. 1920. by Mcclure Newspaper syndicate

out how he treats his mother" Julia
couldn't remember where she had
heard the foregoing bit of wisdom
neither could she see how it might be
brought to bear on the present diff.
| Guilty. Gilbert Downing had no moth
err. To be sure, he treated Juias with
perfect courtesy; but so he did every
woman; that was no criterion. Down
ing was lazy. And, arousing herself
from her reyerie, Julia Benton told
him so, fatty. The man was plainly
amused.
mo, it's not because you're idling
this particular summer that | called
you lazy. It's because, to quote your
own words, you never did stroke Of
real work in your life. except the year
you were in the service. I worked to
the limit of my strength last winter
and didn't take any one else's job,
either-not a cent! There's always
plenty Of that sort Of work in the world
staring one in the face"
Downing looked searchingly around
the deserted veranda. 81 don't see any
one looking my way just now to help
me disprove your assertion"
mo; you wouldn't see It If you stun
bled over it," Julia exclaimed, suddenly
arising. Good night" And she started
toward the hotel entrance.
"When am l to have your answer,
dear?"
"Some time tomorrow, perhaps"
She vanished through the doorway.
Very early the next morning, before
the other guests were astir, Julia start
ed out on tramp, taking a winding
wood road.
Two miles away, down this road.
lived an elderly couple whose farm
had often been the objective of Julia's
walks, ever since the day when she
had stopped there to beg drink
The girls heart was at war with her
judgment and a sleepless night had
not helped to reconcile the two. In
the dewy freshness of the fragrant
pines the heart pleaded: you're not
going to be happy without that man I"
But reason replied: Neither will you
be happy with any man who fritters
his life away" Julia's sense of fair
ness told her she must reach decision
of some kind before she returned to the
hotel.
Julia found the Gardeners in trou'
BILE There was pile of six-toot birch
logs in the yard, potential Drewood.
But old Mr.. Gardner had a splinter in
his right hand and it had become in
fected; he couldn't handle ak or saw.
Mrs. Gardner hadn't the necessary
strength.
Their hired man had left the week
before. Even during reconstruction"
farm help was almost impossible to
get. The old man turned helplessly to
Julia in his perpAexity She didn't just
happen-did she?-to know anyone he
could get to saw the wood into stove
lengths?
And right there Julia Benton arrived
at decision. She would leave the an
swering of Downing's question to that
woodpile--and abide by the result.
why, do happen to know of man."
she told Mr.. Gardner; perhaps he'd
come this afternoon"
Choosing roundabout way of re-
turn, Julia followed a sinuous woods
path, sometimes leaving it for de-
tour over a rocky ledge or down into
ravine. And always as she went
she left trail of arrows cut into the
trunks of trees with her sharp little
pocket knife. She hurried on to the
hotel, gaining her room by a side en-
trance. There Julia wrote a short note
and dispatched 1t by bellboy.
The boy, glancing at the address,
made straight for the dining room. 1t
was Mr.. Downing's lunch hour, he
knew. Downing found the message to
read: IF you really care to know my
answer look for an arrow cut into a
birch at the beginning of the wood
road. Follow the trail"
Leaving his half-finshed lunch, Gil
bert made a Decline for the entrance
to the woods road and as he picked up
the trail recalled, with amusement that
he hadn't tried this stunt since his
schooldays.
Two hours later a bewildered young
man stood staring at the Gardners'
wOodpile. His Immaculate white fan
nels had lost most of their pristine
freshness, So II wasn't to be wondered
at that near-sighted old Mr.. Gardner
took him for the promised wOodchop-
per.
Did Miss Benton send yer" he
asked. "She sure did; that is" but
he got no further, for the old man in
terrupted: You're a godsend, young
man. Mirandy's just put the last stick
on the fire, an she's cookin' beans. I'll
give ye forty cents an hour. Seems
powerful high, but that's what they're
a-chargin' nowadays"
An hour later Julia's voice rang out
in greeting over an Intervening pile
of "stove lengths"
hopping a perspring brow, Gilbert
Dovniprr StraiohtpDad an achipy no ri,