Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1922-02-17

lust as she had mended Jhe last
hole, she heard the sound OF horses
hoofs and mems voices. With the Iear
of the prosecuted, she crouched close
to the roof, and like some frightened
animal, crawled to the edge or II.
Souatters did not speak like that,
neither did they ride horseback.
There in the lane, astride two mag
nifcent animals, were two men. One
she recognized instantly. Polly had
every reason to know the tall man
h dark. handsome face had cast
deep shadows over the. Silent City.
Marcus Mackenzie had been for years
the Nemesis that hung over the Cayu-
ga lake squatters. Even during his
absence on wal work abroad, his long
arm had often reached back to the
Silent City to pick away some hus-
band and close the prison gates be-
hind him.
Pollyop had a passionate desire to
throw the AK at him. She knew there
was not a heart in all the Silent City
that did not beat with dread at the
very mention of his name.
Then she caught a glimpse of the
other mans face and forgot her terror
of Marcus Mackenzie. In Ithaca and
about it she had seen many soldiers
but never anyone like MacKenzie's
companion. He was dressed in an Of
icer's uniform, and, as his horse
whirled him into better view, the
frown faded from Pollyop's brow as
she gazed wonderingly upon him. She
marked his flashing glances that
swept the Silent City. She noted with
a strange little thrill the beauty of the
clearcut features, the full, kindly
mouth and the smooth, tanned skin.
Marcus Mackenzie was speaking
rapidly, and though Polly could not
hear what he said, she knew he was
talking of the squatters. Then words
that made her Jingle with joy came
distinctly to her ears.
But you can't turn a lot of folks
out of their homes, Marc" rang forth
a deep, rich voice. where under the
heaven would they go if you did?"
Anywhere they d-n please"
snarled Mackenzie eontemptuously.
IF they were all dead, they'd be bet
ter off, and Ithaca too"
Polly's hand frightened on the az
handle. To let it fly straight into the
face of the naughty Ithacan would
have been satisfaction indeed!
"Have you tried to buy them out?"
asked the other.
mo, and l don't intend to-" was the
sharp retort. They'll go because I'll
make them go, that's all. I've been
too busy for the last two years to
much of a dent among them,
but, now I'm home for good, I mean to
them off" An outward gesture
the officers hand told Polly he was
not in sympathy with MacKenzie's
threat. "You can't judge of the situa-
ton, Bob" Marcus went on, because
been gone for years. Evelyn
tell o what they are, though"
The speaker wheeled his horse and
his riding whip straight at the
Hopkins shanty; and Polly's curly
head drew quickly back.
zone of the worst of them lives
there !" she heard plainly. Hes sort
Of a mayor of the settlement. Jere-
miah Hopkins! And such a tribe as
that hut holds can't be found any
where else in this county. A worth
less, t~angle-haired girl and a boy half
In the grave, and I heard only this
morning they're harboring a bag by
the name of Hope. They live like pigs,
"The poor things haven't much of a
chance to live otherwise, have they,
Marc?" The question evidently re-
quired no answer. "Well, what do you
think of that?" he went on. Then he
read aloud: eff your heart is loving
and kind, come right in. If it amt,
scoot off, Why, that's beautiful !"
The warm, velvety brown the rich
mans threats had made a hard glare
was brought back to Polly's eyes by
words. She could have Rugged
the speaker as hard as she sometimes
did Daddy Hopkins!
Rubbish ~ sneered Mackenzie.
Perfect rotl Your aunt was saving
this morning that the Hopkins girl is
as odd as she is filthy. The very idea
having a thing like that hung up ="
Polly saw the younger man reach
out and touch the speaker with a
hand.
Love isn't rubbish, wherever you
find 1t, old chap" he exclaimed. at
gives even a squatter shack a glimpse
of heaven. You ought to help these
Marc. Give them a chance:
make something of them, and they
won't bother you"
Burning tears filled Polly's eyes. To
hear him speak in sympathy with her
fishermen friends touched her deeply.
And he had spoken of love in the same
way Granny Hope did, too. Pollyop
had never imagined Old Mares kind