The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1922-04-07

the land, the soft snowfiakes lazily
fioated down, scarcely stirred by the
slightest breeze; that roar was the
voice of the water, that awful power
its own.
Alan choked and gasped for breath,
his pulses pounding in his throat; he
had snatched off his hat and, leaning
out of the window sucked the lake air
in his lungs. There had been nothing
to make him expect this overwhelming
crush of feeling. The lake-he had
thought of it, of course, as great
body of water, an interesting sight
for prairie boy to see; that was ALL
No physical experience in all his
memory had affected him like this;
and it was without warning; the
strange thing that had stirred within
him as the car brought him to the
Drive downtown was strengthened
now a thousand-fold it amazed, half
frightened, half dizzfed him. Now, as
the motor suddenly swung around a
corner and shut the sight of the lake
from him, Alan sat back breathless.
The car swerved to the east curb
about the middle of the block and
came to stop. The house before
which it had halted was large stone
house of quiet, good design; it was
some generation older, apparently
than the houses on each side of 1T,
which were brick and terra Gotta of
recent fashionable architecture; Alan
only glanced at them long enough to
get that impression before he opened
the cab door and got out; but as the
cab drove away, he stood beside his
suitcase looking up at the old house
which bore the number given in Ben
jamin Corvet's letter, then around at
the other houses and back to that
again
The neighborhood obviously pre-
cluded the probability of Corvet's be-
ing merely a lawyer-a go-between.
He must be some relative; the ques-
ton ever present in Alan's thought
since the receipt of the letter, but held
in allegiance, as to the possibility and
nearness of Corvet's relation to him.
took sharper and more exact form
now than he had dared to let it take
before Was his relationship to
Corvet, perhaps, the closest of all re-
lationships? Was Corvet his :.
father? He checked the question
within himself, for the time had
passed for mere speculation upon it
now. Alan was trembling excitedly;
for-whoever Corvet might be-the
enigma of Alan's existence was going
to be answered when he had entered
that house. He was going to know
who he was. All the possibilities, the
responsibilities, the attachments, the
opportunities, perhaps. of that person
whom he was-but whom, as yet, he
did not know-were before him. He
went up the steps and, with fingers
excitedly unsteady, he pushed the bell
beside the door.
The door opened almost instantly
so quickly after the ring, indeed, that
Alan, with leaping throb of his heart,
knew that some one must have been
awaiting him. But the door opened
only half way, and the man who stood
within, gazing out at Alan question
ingly, was obviously servant.
"What is it?' he asked, as Alan
stood looking at him and past him to
the narrow section of darkened hall
which was in sight.
Alan put his hand over the letter
in his pocket 1--WE come 20 see Mr..
Corvet," he said-"Mr. Benjamin
Corvet."
"What is your nameT'
Alan gave his name; the man re-
peated it after him, in the manner of
trained servant, quite without in
Election. Alan, not familiar with such
tones. waited uncertainty. SO far as