Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1921-08-13

The Americans luggage at the
Breeme Arms was soon transferred,
and Mi. fremont, in the wide. eastern
bedroom, dressed thoughtfully and
quickly. Afterwards he lit a cigarette
and stood-by one Of the deep-silfed
breathed slowly and deeply, and his
long, sinewy muscles relaxed. s
Outside, across the lawns, beyond
the tall, wide-topped trees, a misty
moon was coming up. It was still
dusk-a strange half-light. Every
thing stood in an atmosphere that
was neither, light nor shadow. Rufus
fremont thought Of the silvery eyes
of Lady Breeme.
For him, too, as well as for Claire
Wilton, this hour vas a first holiday
from lvt1g-or, perhaps, II the East
ern philosophy is the truer, "a first
moment Of living. He leaned his
head against the lifted arm, the fin
curtain, and a look that was nearly
a smile softened his clear and sombre
eyes. Rest and home! Rest and
home! Why did the realization of
those two words brood so beautifully
for him under this English roof and
over these quiet English lawns?
journeys end-and what a journey!
He was not thinking Of the more or
less unexcittng passage from New
York to Liverpool. He was thinking
Of that short, hard life-journey of his.
The ache Of it was scarcely out of his
muscles; only just beginning to relax
its cruel grip on his will. Against
the moon-misted scene there, start
ling pictures leaped to his memory;
rough, fire-red, frost-furrowed faces
snarled at him, forced back FOOT by
foot like a wolf-pack, to make way
for his own success; and behind them
always the horrible beauty Of iron
peaks, the bitter. dazzlement Of snow,
winds that seemed to cut or the 'limbd
like a blunt saw-cold, cold. cold. Ter
rible marches he remembered, tortur-
ing hunger and thirst, and, more re-
lentless, more uncomfortable than any
thing else, the eternal pitiless heces-
sity Of going on. He saw dead faces
left beside the trail-faces. that he
had loved with the dry, deep love
men have for their trail mates. He
saw incredible sights. He wondered
that he had lived through his own
part In them. Why hadn't his face,
Grim lines came out about his mouth
and eyes as he stood there smoking
and leaning slackly against the win
ldow-frame.
And. after all (here the moon mis-,
became visible again). II 1t hadn't
been for 8. political attitude Of a GER
tain Englishrnan in the year 1000 and
something, all the home-likeness OF
this very place would have been his
|Sbtrthrtght. He would have stood in
the shoes Of that narrow-faced young
man, Lord Alec fremont. BY the
Lord! Rufus fremont stretched his
q VsYn a . hnya hioF bead a nd OrfnnoA LIE
liked the look that e~aAy-going gave
Q fellow. Lord fremont vas probably
only two or three years his Junior. but
his face was as smooth g q girls
Oh, q cynical little twist or SO, peri
llaps; he'd probablyyDeen bothered by
q swarm of teasing w~orry-gnats.
Hes had first-hand everything
that I've half-killed myself to get the
means Of buying secondhand. I2had
times think I've had the leisure-zest
Kicked out Of me. I'm as grim as the
Yukon In my bones. I've got the Soul
dough hunger I'll be going back
some day. But TT take the Little
Lady with me. She's the only woman
that has ever grtpped the soul OF me.
fremont now. he'd think me an ASS
Romantic! "A mere picture!
I'd like to take him out on the trail,
116 NAS I1l6 0tuAL ~ uIIN s4Sxu lIk9 tQ1E
Job. Parliament. maybe? No. sir;
Too much talk about 1t and about
The old gossip at the Breeme Arms
said the Earl was hard up-stony
broke; limited that young fremont
had blown It in, and was going to
marry an American heiress to feather
his nest. Bah! ONE Of our democratic
title-hunters, I guess! Well-I'N stroll
over my acres"
He glanced at his watch.
It's asbully little playground, Eng
land; cricket archery, all the pratty
games In a Robin Hood costume OF
white flannels. Some day I'll buy me
nm estate and found a house. No,
lair; not while the Immigrants leavs
ns the West. God bless I'll"
I'm up in the morning asore daylight,
And afore I sleep the moon shines
bright.
Ny hoss throwed me OK It the creek
called mud;
NY boss throwed ~ on At the =. y.
herd.
Last time ! saw him he Was soins
cross the level,
a kicking up hjs heels and running
like the devil.