The L'Anse sentinel., 1922-05-12

DeuJainln SOrVet, III ne naQ wished
Sheriff. to know those circumstances,
would have told them to him; but Cor
vet had not done that; instead, he had
sent for Alan. his SON. He had given
his son his confidence.
Sheriff. had admitted that he was
Withholding from Alan, for the time
being, something that he knew about
Benjamin Corvet; II was nothing. he
had said. which would help Alan to
learn about his father, or what had
become of him; but perhaps Sheriff.,
not knowing these other things. could
not speak accurately as TO that. Alan
determined TO ask Sheriff. what he
had been Withholding. before he told
him all of what had happened in Cor
vets house. There was one other cir
cumstance which Sheriff. had men,
toned but not explained; II occurred
TO Alan now.
Miss Sheriff." he checked him
self.
"What Is it?"
This afternoon your father said
disappearance was in some way con-
nected with you; he said that he did
not think that was so; but do you
want to tell me why you thought it?"
YES; will tell you" She colored
quickly. zone OF the last things Mr..
Coryet did-in fact, the last thing we
know of his doing before he sent for
you-was TO come TO me and warn me
against one of my friends"
"Warn you, Miss Sheriff.? Howf i
mean, warn you against what?"
Against thinking too much Of him"
She turned away.
II think I'll come TO see your father
in the morning." Alan said, when Con-
stance looked back to him.
"But you'll come over here for
breakfast in the morning?"
"You want mei'
Certainly"
I'D like TO come very much"
"Then I'll expect you" She followed
him to the door when he had put on
his things. and he made no objection
when she asked that the man be al
lowed 10 carry his bag around to the
other house.
When he had dismissed Simons and
re-entered the house on Astor street,
he found no evidences of any disturb
ance while he had been gone. On the
second floor, TO the east of the room
which had been his fathers, was q
bedroom which evidently had been
kept as guest chamber; Alan carried
his suitcase there and made ready for
bed.
The sight Of Constance Sheriff.
standing and watching after him In
concern as he started back to this
house, came to him again and again
and, also, her flush when she had
spoken of the friend against whom
BENJAMIN Corvet had warned her.
Who was he? II had been impossible
at that moment for Alan to ask her
more besides, If he had asked and she
had told him. he would have learned
only name which he could not place
vet In any connection with her or with
BENJAMIN Corvet. Whoever he was, 1t
was plain that Constance Sheriff.
"thought of him." lucky man, Alan
said to himself. Yet Corvet had
warned her not to think Of him. :.
Alan turned back his bed. 1t had
been for him tremendous day. Bare
ly twelve hours before he had come to
that house, Alan Conrad from Blue
Rapids, Kan., now phrases
from what Lawrence Sheriff. had told
him of his father were running
through his mind as he opened the
door of the room to be able to hear
any noise In Benjamin Corvet's house,
of which he was sole protector. The
emotion reused by his first sight Of the
lake went through him again as he
opened the window to the east.
Now-he was in bed-he seemed to
be standing, specter before a man
blaspheming Benjamin Corvet and the
souls of men dead. "And the hole
above the eyel The bullet got
you! so it's you that got Ben !
I'll get youl You can't
save the Miwakal
The Miwakal The stir Of that name
was stronger now even than before: It
had been running through his con-
sciousness almost constantly since he
had heard II. He Jumped up and
turned on the light and found pencil.
He did not know how to spell The
name and II was not necessary to
write It down; the name bad taken on
that definiteness and ipeffaceableness
of thing which, once heard, can
never again be forgotten. But, In
panic that he might forget. he wrote
It, guessing at the spelIing-'Miwaka."
II was name, Of course; but the
name Of what7 1t repeated and re-
peated itself to him, after he got back
into bed. until Its very iteration made
him drowsy.
Outside, the gale whistled and
shrieked. The wind. passing Its last
resistance after its sweep across the
prairles before It Ieaped upon the lake,
battered and clamored Ia Its assault
about the house. But 40 Alan became
sleepler. he heard Il no longer as Il
ratified the windows and howled under
the caves and over the roof, but % out
on the lake, above the roaring and Ice
crunching waves, II whipped and cir