South Bend news-times. (South Bend, Ind.) 1913-1938, 1922-11-03
CONTINUED Prom our Last I~sue)

CHAPTER III
Quintana, on "A fox-trot along the
rock trail into Drowned Valley now
thorougdly understood that So was
the oEiy sanctuary left him for the
moment Egress 90 the southwark
was closed. 20 the eastward. also.
and he was too wary 20 venture to-
ward Ghost Lake
No. the only temporary safety lay
81 the swamps of Drowned Valley.
He meant 10 settle matters with
Nike Cliuch anyway. He was not
afraid Of Clinch. not really afraid Of
anybody IL had been the dogs that
demoralizcd Quintana. He'd had no
experienc, with hunting hounds
did not know what 20 expecr-how
20 maneuver 10 only he could have
seen these beasts that filled the for
est with their hob-gobIn outcries-
81 ne could have had a good look az
the creatures who gave forth that
weird. melancholy volume Of
sound
Bon" ne said coolly 20 himself.
1T was a crisis OF nerves which
experience Yes should
have shot him. that fat Sard. Yes.
Only those damn dog And
now he shall die an rot-that Eat.
Sard-au msef parbleui-like
one big d, .ng all alone in the
wood. Idle Of CUTS full OF
diamo -Ei-mon dieu!-a
million fraEcs h. gems that shine
ike fostering stars Iva this damn
wood TIL the world end. All, bah
nome de diet de-
Halle Ial'' came a sharp voice
from the cedar fringe in front A
d Dause. then recognition; and Henri
VPicquet walked out on the hard
ridge beyond and stood leaning on
his rifle and looking sullenly at his
leader.
Quintana came forward. carless-
Is. a dIsagreeable expression in his
eyes and on his narrow lips. and
continued on past Picquet.
The latter slouched after his
leader. who had walked over 20 the
lean-to before which a pile OF
charred logs lay IL cold ashes.
As Plcquet came up. Quintana
turned on him, with a gesture to-
ward the extinguished fire: 1T is
cold like hell" he said why do
you not have some nre?"
Not for me. non" growled Pic
cuet. and jerked a dirty thumb in
the direction Of the lean-to.
And there Quintana saw pair Of
muddy boots protruding from
blanket.
1T is Harry Beck. yes?' he in
CURED. Then something about the
boots and the blanket silenced him
lie kept his eyes on them for full
minute. then walked into the lean
to- The blanket also covered Harry
Beck's features and there was a
stain on it where it outlined the
PROSTATE mans features, making a
ridge over the bony nose.
After a moment Quintana looked
around at Picquet:
50 He is dead Yes2"
Picquet shrugged: since noon,
mon capitaine.
Comment"
How shall I know? Tt was the
. fire. aps-green wood or vet
s j. is no matter now. I said TO
him. Pay attention Henri; your
wood makes too much smoke To
me he reply I shall go to hell.
Well. there was too much smoke for
me- arise 70 search f1- wood
more dry. when, crack.-they begin
10 shoot out there He waved
dirty hand toward the forest.
Bon said I. 'Cunch, he have
seen your damn smoke"
What shall 1 care2' he make
reply. Henri Beck. 20 me 'Clinch
ne shall shoot and be damn 10 him.
cook me my dejeuner ali the
same
IT make representation to that
Johnbull. he say 10 me that am
frog. and other injuries while he
law vet more wood on his sacre fire.
Then crack! crack. crack. and
g-gg!-whee-ee come the big
bullets OF Clinch and his voyous yon-
der.
-" Bon I say me. I make my
excuse TO retire
Then Henri Beck Ell laugh and
say. Hop it. frog And that is all
ne has find time 20 say, when crack!
spatl Bien droit ne has it-tenez
mon capitaine-here. over the left
eye, Like a beef surprise he SO
ever. crash. thumpi And like a beef
that dies. the air bellows out from
his big lungs"
Picquet looked down at the dead
comrade in a sort Of weary COM
passion for such stupidity.
SO he pass. this ros-biff goddam
Johnbull. Ne. 1 roll him in
, there. Je ne sails pas pourquoi-
Then 1 put out the fire and
leave"
Quintana let his sneering glance
rest on the dead "a moment, am his
thin lip curled immemorial con-
tempt for the AngIo-SaXon.
Then he Invested himself OF the
basket-pack which he had stolen
from the Fry boy.
'AIors." ne said calmly "it has
been Mike CIinch who shoot my
frien' Beck. Bien."
re threw a cartridge into the
breech OF his rifle adjusted his am
munition belt en- bandouliere, care
lessly.
Then. in a quiet voice: MY frien'
Picuuet. the time has now arrive
when il become YER necessary that
we go from here away. Donc-I
shall now so kiu me my frien Nike
Cunch.'
Picquet. unastonished. gave him
a heavy. bovine look of inquiry
Qulntana said softly: Me- I have
enough already OF this damn woods.
Why shah we starye here when
there lies our path o." He pointed
north: his arm remained out
stretched for q while.
"Clinch. he is there. growled
P.cQuet.
49,, o,,~ Moth Var7i Henri