Cavalier County farmers press. (Langdon, N.D.) 1920-1921, 1920-10-07

king JugSleS empires. Why didn't he
draw there in the saloon; why didn't
he draw at the fence? There was
death in his eyes.
The scene in the cabin that first
evening crossed his mind, when by
chance he had learned the secret of
the mans identity; a secret shared
by no one else in the FlatwOOds; a
secret he dared not reveal for want
of proof. He had often thought of it.
Tonight freshened it in his mind COM
pellingly; the strange actions of his
mother; her flaring scorn; how she
mad sprung from her chair and beat
the intruder off with the imperious dig
nifty Of her eyes. Her story, the one
all too brief word that had reached
him out of the sealed past, came to
him again. Long and long he sat with
his head bowed over the table.
Dawn at the east window surprised
him. He stepped to the cabin door.
The square of moonlight upon the floor
was pale and sickly. Great shafts of
bronze thrust up out of the east and
dimmed the stars. A mist lay along
the river like a cloud that had fallen
from the sky and loved the warm
earth so well that it refused to return.
He stood in the door and watched
the world wake up-his world; the
only world he knew. A half sleepy
twitter here and there among the
frnnSs a arnaE HnT, Inv {Io ,~Io,
edge; a squawk yer in the bayou and
on the higher ground a trill now and
then Of distilled witchery-he knew
them all, every voice. A crow wal
lowed along in the purple light and
rasped the silence with his raucous
call. He was answered by another
from somewhere across in the bot
toms. The woods lifted it's thousand
voices; a multitude shouting, as at the
coming of a hero. And the hero was
at hand. The gates of dawn opened
and he drove in. Bronze turned to
gold; the hills away in the south mred
their heads; a soft breeze crooned
along over the trees and blew out the
morning star.
In the early light the Pearlhunter
searched the ground about the door
step for any tracks that might have
been left by the night prowler. In
the hard and moldy open ground he
found the marks of n boot. The heel
had only touched the ground once or
twice. He was struck by it's small
size. 1t was said by some that the
Red Mask had been a gentleman and
an artist before he took to the road.
The Pearlhunter could well believe it
for certainly no other boot in the Flat.
woods could leave a print so small.
The heel had been somewhat worn,
so that the nails protruded slightly
They had left a very distinct row OF
prints around the edge Of the mark
The track was made by the right boot
He hunted one of the left. No nails
showed. From the circumstances he
concluded that the outer heel-cap OF
the right boot had come off, allowing
the nails to protrude.
1t would be hard to say what train
of thought the finding of the heel print
plunged the man back into as he
Strengthened and stood crumpling the
two patches of stiff cloth in his hand
His gray eyes and passive face were
hard to read. An old Sroken crock
lay against the cabin nea the step
He picked it up, turned it upside.
down over the heel print and went
back into the cabin.
He kindled a fire in the cook stove
and when he had it going goou
dropped both masks in and watched
them burn to cinderS-and afterward
raked the ashes.
The Pearihmter. with the horse
sense 20 years of bard knocks had
beaten into him. knew that this was
his day-his one first day-his tC
seize: II have: to hold.
Five thousand dollars; a gray ghost
in the easy chair in the cabin of the
three gables; a girl that trusted" him
and the big day going! vt was
enough to make a NAN restless.
The forenoon was nearly gone when,
through the trees up the river, he
caught the bright CLINT of the sun upon
oar blades. Even at that distance he
knew the craft-Louie Solomon's long,
white SiX-oared Skiff.
Broom in hand, the Pearlhunter was
making a prodigious dust and clatter
among the chairs and boxes when the
pearl buyer, short and ~pudgy-Jew
from his shrewd eyes to his fat feet
stepped before the door.
House cleaning, hain'dt it?"
"Oh, just digging myself out"
Standing his broom against the wall,
he stepped outside. He knew Louie
Solomon well-what pearl fisher did
not?-and Louie Solomon knew him.
Like two wrestlers on the mat the two
stood looking each other over-a man
that wanted to sell something; a man
that wanted to buy it-with the odds
on the one that could put up the big
gest bluff. The world could be halved
just there.
Cup by DE shpring?"
"a gOurd."