Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1921-07-29
CHAPTER l.
David MoreIand,s Mountain.


Carlyle Wilburton Dale-knoWn 70
himself and few close friends as Bill
Dale-had laid out course OF actloh
almost before the northbound train
had left the outskirts of the state cap
ital behind. 1t incurred facing Dig
odds: but other men had faced Dig
odds and won out, and what others
had done he could do. Indeed, ne nau
already done several things when
other men might not have thought OF
doing, and one of them was leaving
bride, not figuratively but Literally, at
the altar in fashionable church But
he knew Patricia hadn't wanted 20
marry him any more than ne nau
wanted to marry her.
1t was only natural for him to think
of coal, now that he had cut loose for
all time from the "set" in which he
had always been a colossal mistlt, now
that he must pull his own oars or VIZ
tually perish. He had heard coal
talked since the day of his birth; 10
him coal and business meant exactly
the same.
One of his fathers associates had
often spoken of fine vein in the
mountains of eastern Tennessee-had
often tried to persuade his father to
look into it, to no avail, Young Dale re-
membered that this vein lay not far
from a long railroad siding called the
Halfway Switch, in the vicinity of Big
Pine mountain. The owners we're
mountain folk of English descent, his
fathers associate had said. Decidedly
strange, thought Dale, that his father
had never cared to investigate it.
The cindery little train reached the
long siding about the middle of fine
spring morning. Dale took up his bag,
FASTENED out, and soon found himself
standing alone in the heart of an ex-
tremely wild section of country.
When the noises of the little train
and the fast mail it had just met had
died away, there came the saucy chat
tering of boomer-squirrel and the
sweet twittering of birds. Dale caught
the joyous spirit. He could have
fairly shouted out of the fullness of
his very human heart. Here all was
unspoiled and unprofaned, and some
thing whispered within him:
"They won't call you a savage
lhere-make this your own country!"
From somewhere on nearby
mountainside rifles keen report split
the air; a bullet whined like mad
hornet; Dale's hat jumped a little on
his head.
The awakening was exceedingly
rude. Dale wheeled, his gray eyes
ablaze, and saw only tiny cloud of
smoke-mist rising from the laurels
more than fifty feet away.
"Come out, you coward ~ he roared.
f'Come out and let me see you" curl
tosity taking the place of anger in his
voice. 'Tve always wanted to know
Just what real highwayman was
hike"
The muffied sound of a twig break
ing short distance off to his left next
claimed his attention. He was being
closely watched by pair of the fin
est, clearest brown eyes he had ever
seen. He saw her eyes first: he never
forgot that.
She was standing on low cliff be-
yond the sparkling creek that flowed
beside the railroad, and she was par
TALLY hidden by clump of blooming
laurel. But Dale could see that she
was about twenty; that every line of
her rounded, graceful figure whis-
pered of a doelike strength; that she
was as straight as young pine; that
her chestnut-brown hair caught the
sunlight, and that her face was oval
shaped and handsome rather than
pretty-in spite of its tan.
Dale took Off his hat. There was
bullet hole in the very top of its high
peaked crown.