The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1921-04-21
CHAPTER xIv-contlnued.


~
The Red Mask was going fast, but he
raised his face and muttered hoarsely
'qThe boy-stands before YOU"
Since the old man snatched the pic
ture the Pearlhunter and the girl had
been staring at each other. Events
were happening. developments unfold
ing, too fast for comprehension. The
old man was staring at them both,
from one to the other, as if unable to
grasp a revelation that had been twen-
ty years coming. He stretched up his
hands at last to the young man, pulled
his face down to him. gazed on it as
at something OF which he had long
dreamed but never hoped to see
turned back to the man on the floor.
Martin Redmond. I'll requite the
deed you've done, the one good deed
of your evil life. The little girl I've
raised as my own, the child of the
good woman you cruelty killed, the
child you deserted, your daughter
stands before you"
The girl recoiled in horror. The un-
natural father strained his glazing
eyes toward the daughter his thought
had outraged; cry muttered up out
of his chest and brought with it gusn
of froth and blood; he stiffened; his
face frightened horribly; he fell heavy
against the arms of the sheriff-dead.
The girl turned away from the grue-
some sight, stole half faitering
glance at the bewildered face OF the
Pearlhunter, threw herself down by tue
side of the couch and bowed her race
upon the old mans bosom.
"Unsay it, Daddyl Oh, Daddy. un-
say itl'
He softly stroked her hair with his
great, gaunt hand.
Its the truth, D0tty, and can't pc
unsaid. But you owe him no respect
a parent only. never father. be de-
serted you, and killed your mother
in ways unspeakable killed her-a
woman of the high blood OF the
Dawns." He fumbled the picture up
off his breast, held it before his face
q moment, laid 1t back. "God!" he
groaned. 1.-THE ruin he wrought! For
years ! searched for her"-he spoke
the name in reverence, "and you, my
son."
His hand found its way back into
the Pearlhunter's; his eyes strained
hard toward the face bending over
him.
They seemed hungry to know many
things-the twenty years of wander
ing; the death of the woman of the
picture; how the young man came to
be Just there; of his wounded arm.
But with the steady courage of SOL
der who knew the end was near. he
put them by. and dropped his eyes to
the girls hair.
"Your grandfather, potty, old God
frey Dawn, cast your mother off when
she married Martin Redmond. Alone.
and dying in poverty and want, she
sent for me at last" The girl was
crying softly. He stopped, put his
arm about her and drew her close. Il
had the privilege-and honor-of max
ing her last hours less terrible. She
died without-seeing you. You were
three years old when I gave up the
search, left everything in the hands
of my good friend, Judge Eskridge,
and came up here to lose myself in
these vast woods along the Wabash,
present from General Jackson"
His eyes closed YEARLY. He lay
so still, and the pallOr on his face was
so CHASTITY that the Pearlhunter bent
anxiously over him. But the heavy
lids presently Enclosed; the voice,
queer and hoarse from long disuse,
and noticeably growing weaker, fall
tered on.
"Seven years. 1t seems only this
morning he shot mel And yet, it
couldn't be. or Dotty wouldn't be the
wonderful woman she has become, nor
you. my son. the man you are-the man
II was when / led Jackson's rangers.
IHesper Dawn Red" the quavering
voice hesitated. mo, no, let that
name perish with his who disgraced
1T. The judge knows. Hesper Dawn |;
david Wulf Warbritton. Both Of the
high blood Of the Dawns; your moth
ers both named Hesper Dawn, distant
cousins, both the same name, and both
of the same high blood. Neither need
you be ashamed, my son, of your name
of Warbritton. 1t has been more or
less on the tongues Of men since the
brave days of Saxon Harold Share
your estate with Dotty. 1t is In the
will that you do so, and there's ample
for you both. The judge will know"
The Pearihunter was on the point
OF mentioning the letter-the death
of the girls grandfather, his relenting
his will. But the faltering voice left
him no opening.
"My son, you are man grown, but
you will not deny your father the
heart hunger of twenty bitter years."
His voice was fast falling; his eyes
strained hard to find the Pearlhunter's
face, though he was bending low over
him. The young man read the mean
ing, the twenty years Of longing, in
the straining eyes. He knelt down and
laid his face against the old mans
cheek. An arm stole about his neck
and held him close.
A long time the old man lay still,
his right arm around the girl kneeling
one side Of the couch, his left arm
around the man at the other. So still,
SO motionless he lay that the deep
silence became burdened with heavy