Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1921-11-11
CHAPTER xLx-continued.

Moreland WINGED perceptibly. The
big, crooked finger came way from the
hair-fine trigger. He had Fever expect
ed to hear the man whom he knew as
John K. Carlyle say Fiat which he had
just said. 1t had never entered his
mind that John K. Carlyle could be
sorry.
Then the great and bitter desire for
revenge rushed into his brain again,
and his head went down, and his keen
right eye looked along the sights and
to the kneeling mans breast. His trig-
ger finger began slowly to crook
Until this instant Elizabeth Little
ford had been as one frozen, had been
as figure carved in stone. Now she
sprang to her feet and went between
Moreland and his ancient enemy
"Put at gun down-wait ontel tell
ye, John Moreland, what I've got to tell
yep she cried tensely, lapsing into the
old dialect in her excitement. While
Moreland stared, she went on:
''It wasn't Newton Wheatley at put
mp the money to start yore coal mine
a-goin'; it was this man here And the
Alexander Crayfield Coal corp'ration+
which has been a-payin' you two prices
TO-. yore coal-tEat was this man here !!
Mr.. Hayes was his-his ally through it
all. And he's sorry, John Moreland,
this man is-so sorry that he wants to
die; and CANT We see it, John More
sand?
She caught her breath again and
continued tearfully: ooh, he don't
desarve to be killed, and eff he did
you're too good a man to kill him.
He's done paid-you don't know, like
do, how he's paid. You mustn't
fo'get that. And you mustn't fo'get
Bill Dale, his son. Put down that gun,
John MorelandI Yore people is saved,
ms David wanted 'em saved. Now
c-d-don't go and s-s-spoil it all, TO-
Gods sake!"
The big mountaineers eyes we're
wide with amazement, for Elizabeth
I4ittleford's every word had borne the
ring of truth. He was too dazed to
understand her allusion to Bill Dale
as his old enemy's son. The rifle came
back from across the palings, and its
steel-shOd butt found place in the
snow beside John Moreland's foot.
Slowly John X. Dale arose and
drew close to him, and then from
John K. Dale's soul came pouring the
pent-up anguish of remorse that had
scared it through the years The tor
rent of words flowed on, while the
mountaineer stood rigidly regarding
him with strange light in his pierre
ing eyes.
81 can't ask you to forgive me"
Dale finished brokenly. 81 don't ex-
pect forgiveness; my crime was too
great. But can't you, for the sake of
the boy, let me keep on trying to
atone for my SIM"
John Moreland looked long and
searchingly into the face of the plead
ing man before him. The bitter
struggle that was going on within him
was mirrored on his rugged coun-
tenance. But gradually the bitterness
faded; his huge frame trembled; he
put hand slowly down on the others
shoulder.
1.-The boy" he muttered-"BiIl Dale:
is he yore boy? Yore name was Car
lyle then"
my boy, yes-my boy, Bill Dale.
Carlyle is an old family name. Ny
father was at the head Of big coal
concern; he sent me down here in
cognito to get a line on the Moreland
vein. Maybe he thought the price
would be high if it were known that
he wanted it; don't know. IL can't
remember
Ben Littleford's daughter was
watching closely, hoping against hope,
praying to heaven with all her lie rt !;
and then she saw John K. Dale put
his right hand up to John Moreland's
hand, take it and press it-and she
saw John Moreland, his bearded
mouth jerking, give the answering
squeeze that meant something very
akin to forgiveness.
She ran out at the gate, ran up to
the giant hillman and put her arms
around his neck; she drew his great
brown head down and kissed him on
the cheek And John Moreland let
his rifle fall unnoticed to the snow,
put his arms around her shoulders as
though she were his own daughter,
bowed his head and sobbed out a
few words she did not understand
Night had fallen when they reached
Ben lIttleford's cabin home The girl
was welcomed with much joy; old
Dale was received with almost affec-
tionate cordlality. A roaring fire was
soon going in the best room, and old
Dale was given the cosiest of the
sheepskin-lined rockers. Ben Little
ford, washed scrupulously clean of
coal smut, sat near the guest of honor.
John Moreland, who was so thought
full that he seemed to hear and see
nothing, sat close to Ben Littleford
Suddenly Dale looked toward his
host and asked: "Where is my SOM"
At that moment Dale the younger,
IN boots and corduroys, appeared in
the outer doorway and answered for
himself:
"Here he is, father Are you well?"
Dale the elder arose, and their
hands clasped warmly. Young Dale
then shook hands with Elizabeth, who
blushed in spite Of herself as she
him