The daily Alaskan., 1920-10-23
Slammed Him Back Against the Rail.

Thr girl Was stiIl struggling, her os- saimri mucr.ug. and trying to de- tain ,er without loo great show of viuUrrrr when d grim face scowled .,u lr,m hrhiud the fence, long arm lur .rrr. lhr fingers of a CallouSed
 HmI twisted themselves into the col lar of thc aSSaiIant and slammed him sack against the rail with force that rnnk rhp breath out of him in a grunt. Nnr was that all. The same long arm dragged him backward over the fence and chucked him head first down into thr path on the other side, where for moment he luy half stunned, gasp Ing forsthe breath that had as good as gone. and gazing half foolishly up at the man who Stood-Over him.
 But it was only for a moment. With face like the flames sf hell he sprang up. The body of the Pearl hunter crouchcd; frightened.
 There is just one thing Co expect In such situation; but the expected failed to happen. For tue second time that day the Man-in-theFanCy-NcSt treated the pcurlhunter to very genuine surprise. The flame of anger In his eyes Slow'y changed to a naughty contempt, infinitely ranking. He twru.d. aud without q backward glance. s,alkcd down the road to- ward the village.
 The Pearlhuntcr stood gazing after hInH. The Red MaSk-und he hadn't struck, Three times atfrOntrd. and he hadn't struck. Each time there hud been death in his eyes. What was holding his hand? Was he hiding-his time? [, was not a pleasant thing to contemplate. rnr any man Cnn kill another if he waits his opportunity, and takes hm at q disadvantage.
 Why hadn't he struck? Always thc question came hack to that And what WIS holding him to the Flat woods? Tkc pcarlhunter wlirled with the thought. and looked back over the fence.
 The girl was gone.
 The basket and bundles were still scattered about the path. He climbed the fence and began gathering them up. He had them all back in the basket. and was leaning against the fence. wondering how to get them to their proper owner when q slight rustic among tue bushes reached his ear. He glanced up; the girl stood before him.
 It was the girl of the pool-the Wild Rose.
 The woods had hid them; the woods had nurSed them; the woods had set them face tO faCe-the Pcarlhunter; the Wild RoSe-a man; a woman. Strip away from life every nonessen- ual; bare it of every husk of sham and conventions; pare it right down to the red, quick core, beyond which it Is not possible to reduce 1t further, and you come at last to a man and woman. Six million years the AL mighty Artist practiCed on such sec ondary studies as stars and suns, and peoplng them with inCOnCeivably d. verse and curious forms of life, before trusting his hand on his final master piece-a man; a woman.
 They stood staring, as at that other meeting at the pool. And that was the thought uppermost in the mind of the Pearlhuntcr-that other meeting. And he had loOEedl Somehow he wished he hadn't; and yet he wasn't sorry that he had. The thought drew his eyes to her feet. Shifting the basket, his hand slowly stole up and dragged off his battered hat.
 The blue eyes under the sunbon- net livened The girl drew q step nearer. The bushes she had been bending aside sprang back into place. She drew another step nearer. As