New Britain herald., 1922-01-10
THE SNOWSHOE TRAIL
EDISON MARSHALL
(COntiRued From Last Issuc)
.-----BY-
tIitle. Brown S Co., and N. E. A, ser,ice)

NSVutiHusu rTsVl IiuSt lSsue).
 You can claim half of it," Harold was whispering eagerly into Virginia's s gar, 'Yon were with Bill when he found it."
 T cnn--but won't" she replied, coldly.
 Gold, gold, gold" he whispered to himself Heaps and heaps of It. what I've always hunted. And Bill had to find 1t. That devil had to walk right into it."
 He was sickencd by the thought that except for his own cowardice he would have accompanied them into tho den Then he would have been In a position to claim half the mine
 and get 1t, too,
 He found a match. The white skel- \ eton lay just at his feet.
 He drew back, startled, but in- stantly regained his boise. He knelt with inexplicablc intentness. He too. saw the ghastly wound and its grim connection with the rusted pick. And he bent. slowly. like n man who is trying to control an unwonted eager ness, lifting the pick in his arms. Oh, 1t was easy to handle and lift. How naturally 1t swung in his arms. What a deadly blow the cruel point could infict.
 ixv. Bill made his plans for an early start to his Twenty-three Mile cabin. .I'll leave before dawn--as soon az it gets gray" he told Virginia as he bade her good night. "I'll come back the next day, with backload of supplies. And with the little we have left, we will nave enough to go on We can start for Bradleyburg the day after that"
 Virginia took no pleasure in bidding him goodby.
 Her voice sank almost to a whisper. and her tones were sober and earnest. I'll pray for you. Here's my hand, Bill" q
 He groped for it, found it at last; it was swallowed in his own palm, and the heart of the man raced and thrilled and burned. He mushed on, his snowshoes crunchfng on the white crust. The powers of the wilderness gave him good speed-almost to the noon hour.
 '''NN' the fine edge Of the wilderness silence had been dulled. There was faint stir at his ear drums. The stir grew to a faint and distant murmur, the 1 murmur to a long swish like million | rustling garments. A tree fell With crash, far away. Then the wind | slnote him.
 It was the southeast.
 No man of the Northwest provinces is unacquaintcd with this wind, It is prayed for in the spring because Its breath melts the drifts swiftly, but It is hated 10 death by the traVeier caught far from his cabin on snow shoes.
 II did not occur to Bill to turn hack. Already he was nearly halfway to his des.ipation. The food supplies had to be secured, sooner or later; and when the Chinook comes no man knows when it will go away lie mushed on through the softenng snow.
 The truth suddenly dawned upon him that he was face to face with one of the most uncomfortable situations of all his years in the forest. lie didn't believe he would be able to make the cabin before the fall or night.
 His yoodsman's senses predicted a 1 bitter night.
 Through the black hours he would ', have to fight off sleep so that ne could mend the fire and cut fuel. Late afternoon: already the sha- dows lay strange and heavy in the distant tree aisles. And all at once he paused. thrilled in his tracks.
 A little way to the cast, on the bank of a small creek, his father and his 1 traiterous partner had once had mining claim--a mine they had trled unsuccessfully to operate pe'ore Bronson had made his big strike.
 They had built small cabin, ana for nearly thirty years it had stood moldering and forgotten.
 Eyultant and thankful, Bill turned i'm his tracks and mushed over toward it.
 There was plenty Of heart break ing work to do when Bill hnaly rcac ached the little cabin He couldn force open the door, so ne hacked e hole in it through which he en'ereu'
 After looking about, he turned to his toll of making a fire just outside the hole.
 Tired out. he elmed inside agaln and lay down on the dry dirt, putting his arm under his head.
 All at once he was aware that ms eyes were fastened upon an old csar box on a shelf against the wall
 As he reached to seize it, he hah a distinct premonition Of misfortune.
 It contained single photograph
 It was q typical old-fash1ohea pllo- toerapb-two men standing in sun and awkward poses in an old-lash- ioned picture gallery-printed Tn the time worn way.
 One of the men was his own father' And he stared at the other race-a rather handsome. thin-lipped' sar- donic-eyed face--as if he were look ing at ghost.
 Great Cod he cried. Its Har- old Lounsbury.'
 Rut instantly he knew it could not he Harold Lounsbury. Already ne tnev It was no other than Ruthe- ford the man who slew his father.
 His deductions followed with dea't~ k and remorseless certainty. He kn N now why Harold Iounsbury had come nto Clearwater. Virginia had to'" Bil that her lover had seemed to nave some definite place in view for ms ,rospecting: he had simply come to