The daily Alaskan., 1920-11-04

did if mean? What must 1t mean this last one? He knew the meaning of the first-dropped by chance. He had a very plausible surmse as to the story of the other, the one with the knife thrust through It at the three gabled cabin. But this One-this last one?
 The man wanted to hide that bit Of cloth right there. But why: The Pearl hunter raked his brain for the answer. Why? He must have been ignorant that the other was hidden behind the chink. or why should he have taken such pains to hide thls one? He was probably ignorant of the fact that he had dropped the other one in the cab in that night: possibly did not know where he hud lost it. It was even con celvable that the loss of it may have occasIoned him no small anxiety. IL he did not know that he had dropped the other mask In the cabin, he prob ably was unaware that the Pearlhunt- CT knew him. The young man sat still a long time over that thought.
 That he could with such apparent readiness supply himself with another mask after the first was lost suggested nearby rendezvous, undoubtedly somewhere In the FlatwoodS-a rem dezvous. ora confederate. But that was unlike him-to have a confed- crate. He was known to work alone. And his hOrSe-he would not likely al- low himself to get fur from it. He wouldn't dare ride it into the village. Rocket. the famous thoroughbred of the Red Mask. was well known. And a horse can not be easily disguised.
 But always. no matter where hls thought strayeI. like man lost in the woods and travelling in a circle, he invariably came back to the starting polnt-the question: Why dld he hide the mask in the cabin? One thing was certain. He didn't hide 1t without a purpose.
 He seemed to feel some intangible, Indefnable force for evil forming about hlu,-llke spider webs across the face: delicately effective; hideouSly er- ficlent. A kind Of dread crept out of the silence and the solitude and grIpped his spirit. Danger; death the Red Mask juSgled with them as king jugglrs empires. Why didn't he draw there in the saloon; why didn't he draw at the fence? There was death h his eyes.
 The scene in the cabin that first evening crossed his mind, when by chance he hud learned the secret of the mans identity; q secret shared bv no one else in the FlatwOodS; secret he dared not reveal for want or proof. He had often thought of it, Tonight frc>hrned Ir in his mind com pcllincIy: the strange actions of his mother: her haring ScOrn; how she mad sprung from her chair and beat fhe intruder of with rhe inIperiOuS dig ufty of her eyes. Iiys story, the one all too bries word that hal 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 rn the cabin door. The square ur moonlight upon the floor WIS pale and Sirl,ly Great shafts of bronze thrust up out of the east and dimmed the stars. A mist lay along the river like cloud that had fallen from the sky and loved the. warm earth so well that 1t refused to return.
 He stood in the door and watched khe world wake up-hts world; the only world he knew. A half sleepy twitter here and there among the trees: a Croak down by the waters edge: & squawk over 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 Its thousand voices 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 barred 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 boot. The heel had only touched the ground once or twice. He was struck by It's small size. It 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 1t, for certainly no other boot in the Flat woods could leave 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. rTtn tranl, rros D,o1a by fhR right bOOt