The Snowflake herald., 1922-11-17
By
EDISON MARSHALL
Author of
"The Voice of the Pack"
Copyright by Little, Brown, and Co.


ers had coveted it. 1t seemed the
acme of luxury to them. And more
clearly than ever he understood why
| the Rosses had died, sooner than re-
linquish it, and why its usurpation by
| the Turner's had left such a debt of
the love of home is one of the few
| great impulses that has made toward
| civilization, but by the same token it.
| has been the cause of many wars. Per-
haps the day is coming when this love
will die in the land, but with it will
die the strength to repel the heather
from our walls, and the land will not
be worth living in, anyway. But 1t
was not dead to the mountain people.
No really primitive emotion ever is.
The Rosses had known this instinct
very well. AS all men who are strong
thewed and of real natural virtue, they
had known pride of race and name,
and it had been task worth while to
build this stately house ON their far
| lying acres. They had given their
| fiber to it freely; no man who beheld
the structure could doubt that fact.
! They had simply consecrated their
lives to it; their one Work by which
they could. show to all who came after
that by their own hands they had
earned their right to live.
Bruce saw the broad lands lying un-
der the moon. There were hundreds
of acres of alfalfa and clover to fur
nish hay for the winter feeding. There
were wide, green pastures, ensilverea
by the moon, and fields of core laid
ss1t in even rows. The old appeal of
the soil, an instinct that no person of
Anglo-Saxon descent car ever COM
pletely escape, swept through him.
They were worth fighting for, those
fertile acres.
Not for nothing have a hundred gen.
eratiOns of AnglO-SaxOn people been
tillers of the SOIL They had left a
| love of it to Bruce. He knew what
| it would be like to feel the earth's
pulse through the handles of plow, to
in the spring and the golden ripening
| in fall to watch the flocks through the
| breathless nights and the herds feed
ing on the distant hills.
| Bruce looked over the ground. He
knew enough not to continue the trail
farther The space in front was bathed
in moonlight, and he would make the
best kind of target to any rifleman
watching from the windows of the
house. He turned through the coverts,
seeking the shadow of the forests at
one side
By going in a quartering direction
he was able TO approach within two
hundred yards of the house without
emerging into the moonlight. At that
point the real difficulty of the stalk
| began. He lowered in the shadows,
then slipped one hundred feet further
to the trunk of great oak tree.
He could see the house much more
plainly now. True, it had suffered neg
lect in the past twenty years it need
ed painting and many Of its windows
were broken. Bruce rejoiced to see
that there were no lights in the east
wing of the house, the window that
Linda had indicated in the note was
| just black square on the moonlit
wall.
There was neglected garden close
to this wing of the house. If he could
reach this spot in safety he could ap-
proach within a few feet of the house
and still remain in cover. He went
fiat, then slowly crawled toward it.
Once light sprang up in window
near the front, and he pressed close
to the earth. But in moment it went
| away. He crept on. He didn't know
when a watchman in one of the dark
windows would discern his creeping
| figure. But he did know perfectly just
what manner of greeting he might ex-
pect in this event. There would be a
single little squirt of fire in the dark
ness, so small that probably his eyes
would quite fail to catch it, If they
did discern it, there would be no time
for message to be recorded in his
BRAIN 1t would mean a swift and GER
tain end of all messages. The Turner's
would lose no time in emptying their
rifles at him, and there wouldn't be the
| slightest doubt about their hitting the
mark. All the clan were expert shots
and the range was close.
The place was deeply silent. He
felt a growing sense of awe. In mo-
ment more, he slipped into the shad.
ows of the neglected rose gardens.
He lay quiet an instant resting. He
didn't wish TO risk the success of his
expedition by fatiguing himself now.
He wanted his full strength and
breath for any crisis that he should
meet in the room where Linda was
confined.
Nevertheless the stock of his rif1a