The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1921-03-17

strings fnat held II ana Wnlppeu thcui
into q knot. Then the girl stepped
back. The man crawled through the
window--with extreme care not TO
scar the ground outside.
1t is past all knowing. how her hands
happened to get into his He bent his
head and laid his face upon them !;
suffered them to slip out OF his fingers
at last and turned away.
He was gone on the instant--gone
as shadow goes-never knowing
that for long and long the dull window
framed a white face listening for
some sound of him to come back out
of the night.
The woodcraft of the Pearlhunter
was profound. 1t was aboVt all life
had taught him, but 1t had taught MN
that. With the logical precision OF a
schoolmaster passing from one step OF
a problem to another, it led him
straight to the trail of the man he had
been following short time before-
which, of course, took him in the di-
rection of Fallen Rock. The man ne
followed had doubtless gone back to
the village by this time, This prob
ability he had already estimated ana
set down in his reckoning at It's
proper value. But he HAD another pur-
pose in turning his steps toward Fall
en- Rock. He was deliberately going
back to the cabin.
With every caution to leave no trail.
he picked his way through the woods
to the edge of the bluffs, stole over
and down toward the cabin. The first
glance at the black bulk Of it, squat
ted in the deep gloom under the up
standing rocks, brought him to in
slant pause. There was light with
In. He crouched down in the bushes
to consider what this unexpected cir
cumstance meant before venturing an
other step.
No sound came from the cabin. the
night was intensely STILL Not an oar
stirred the river. The waterfall alone
fretted the silence. The Pearlhunter
fattened himself in the weeds ana
bushes and foot by foot worked his
way until he was able at last to bring
his face level with the tiny opening.
With his eye close, the chink afforded
tolerably clear view of the interior
OF the cabin. He barely restrained a
cry at what he saw.
STOPPED over the small, hair-covered
trunk, his hat off, stood the Red Mask.
He had pried open the lid and had
laid the contents of the trunk out
with seeming care in rather neat
heaps upon the floor. In his hand ne
held the picture of the Iron-Gray-
Woman. f3
The Pearlhunter's gorge rose st see
ing his mothers picture in such hands,
and his breast burned to dash into the
cabin and settle his score with the
sacrilegi0us wretch once and for all.
But it was not his to do as he pleased
that night His activities for the mo
ment were limited to keeping his eye
fast to the efink
The man by the trunk Strengthened,
carried the picture to the candle anu
stood looking long upon it. He lai9 II
to his lips. again and again, as IL he
would drink up the beautiful face
from the card He pressed the picture
to his bosom; held it again to the
candle and whispered to it in tones
that did not carry to the ear OF the
amazed listener. He STROBE up and
down the room; and there was on his
face look that no man had probably
ever seen there before, and probably
would never see again.
After long moments he reused bin
self, unbuttoned his vest, and put the
picture carefully away in an inner
pocket. The watcher outside the wall
WINGED; his lips drew together IN
tense line. But there was much to be
seen just then The man inside had
risen, crossed the floor, put the things
back in the trunk, closed the LID and
picked up his hat. Next moment the