Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1922-09-01

the IeaheSS branches but the wind
was dying away. 1t was late In the
afternoon, though no sign Of the sun
came through the heavy, lowering
cloud.
We'll 60 on" said Wilton.
And, going out of the shack, he IN
fastened the cord Of the sleigh that
held Joe's body, and took 1t In his
wounded hand.
"Will, it's impossible r.
ut may be. But I'll try. ] can't
face Kitty otherwise"
Over the new snow the journeying
was not SO difficult In their snow
shoes, but the drag OF the sleigh-rope
up the hills and across the corduroys
proved almost impossible. Their
progress was infinitesimally slow. The
night came down and shut them in.
And the nightmare Of deiirium clouded
Wilton's brain, peopling the world
with phantoms. He lived over again
scenes Of the past, and always Joe
was Of them. 1t was night Of unmit-
igated horror to Molly.
At every cache, at each shack, they
would stop, feeling the sheer impossi-
bility Of going on, and sit huddled in
their blankets under the lee, with the
drifting snow about them.
Yet always they went on again; un-
til at last the never-ending night lifted.
The snow ceased to fall: the dun
horizon was streaked with fire. And
slowly Wilton came back to full con-
seriousness.
They had toiled up their highest
hill, and as they reached the summit
they saw the sweetest sight that they
had ever seen. For far away was Clay
ton, over the plain, with Its ugly
streets and bara new houses and the
gaunt station buildings, roundhouses
and locomotive shops.
They were white as shrouded bodies,
besmeared with CRIME, and Wilton was
caked with the blood that had oozed
from his wounds and frozen.
Zone last try, Molly" he said, "and
then they can do what they like with
me. But it's you who pulled that
trick, girl of mineI"
But as he spoke he slipped to the
ground and leaned his shoulders
against the sleigh.
"Seven miles yet, and the meetings
at nine," he said. II can't make 1t,
Molly. I've tried. I've fallen short
just short. A little later, Molly, I'll
try again. I'm going to-sleep In the
sunshine"
Molly stopped over him. and 1t was
a harder thing than she had ever done
to try to drive the driven man fur
Their. But she knew that, having
staked all, Wilton would be content
with no less than the sacrifice Of all.
Remember Joe, DEAR" she said,
"and Kitty"
He tried to rise to his feet, but could
not. Wilton's mind was quite clear,
but his body, driven by his will, had
collapsed suddenly like WORKOUT
horse.
Three horsemen were riding over
the plain toward them. They watched
them in dull apathy. Even Molly
hardly cared any more, except for Will
ton. And he had done all that q man
could do.
AS the men came nearer 1t could be
seen that they were Of the Mounted
Police. In the foremost Molly recog-
nized Quain, the inspector who was
In command of the detachment at Clay
ton.
The three trotted their horses up to
them, and, catching sight OF the coffin
upon the sleigh, the inspector dis
mounted. He looked hard at Wilton,
and suddenly he recognized him.
"It's VIII Carruthersl" he ex-
claimed, staring into his face In Devil
derment.
Wilton got up with an effort. Morn
ing, Jack" he said YEARLY. Eyes, it's
I. And here's Miss Mcdonald. You
know her. thinkT'
The inspector turned his puzzled
glance on the girl. Mechanically his
hand went up to his cap in salute.
Then he looked at the sleigh again.
"And this is-was Joe Bostock," said
Wilton; and all at once, in the reac-
ton from the nervous tension, he felt
the tears streaming down his face, and
could hardly keep his lips steady.
"My God I" muttered Quain. can ac-
cident, WIFI"
"Shot" shouted Wilton. Some
sneaking dastard's bullet In the bush.
Shot at my side! The bullet broke my
arm after 1t had passed through Joe's
heart, his blood and mine were
mixed together. 1t didn't need that
for me to know that Til hound the
murderer IL 1t takes me to my dying
dayp
"Joe-Joe deadl" whispered Inspec-
tor Quain, half unable to realize 1t.
Joe had been very living personality
in Clayton. "And murdered" he
added. Then:
"Where are your breeds?"
"Gone! But they didn't shoot Joe,
either by design or accident. That's a
story you can learn from Andersen,
hcIf xuoxv m a