Perth Amboy evening news., 1922-05-02

! country cried for help: another OF
! carload after carload of necessary
machinery. snow-covered, ice-bound,
! on a sidetrack at TollifeA with the
whole. horrible, snow-clutched fierce
ness of the Continental Divide be-
tween it and its goal.
In the night he awoke. again
thinking of 1t. Every possible hand
that could swing a pick or jam a
crowbar against grudging ice would
be nee%-i up there. A mad desire
began to come over him; a strange
impelling scheme took hold of his
brain. They would need men-men
! who would not be afraid, men who
would be willing to slave day and
night il necessary to the success of
the adventure. Long before dawn
he rose and scrubbed a note to Ba'-
tiste Renaud:
.'I'm going over the range. I can't
wait. They may need me. I'm writ
ing this because you would try to
dissuade me IL I told you personally.
Don't be afraid for me-IH make it
somehow. I've got to go. It's
easier than standing by.
Then, his sn~owshoes affixed. he
went out into the night. The storm
clouds were thick as the sky again,
the snow was dashing about him
once more. He fioundered aimlessly.
striving by short sallies to Gov
the path from which the storm was
driving him.
Dawn found him at last. founder
ing hopelessly in snow-screened
woods, going on toward he knew not
where.
" -. H.. ~ stannoJ
Fifty feet away. almost covered by
the changing SHOWS. a small cabin
showed family. His numbed hands
banged at the door. but there came
no answer. He shouted; still no
sound came from within.
The door yielded, and climbing
over the pile of snow at the step,
Houston guided his snowshoes
through the narrow door, blinking
in the half-light in an effort to see
about him. There was a stove, but
the fire was dead. At the N little
window, the curtain was drawn tight
and pinned at the sides to the sash.
There was a bed-and the form of
some one beneath the covers.
Houston called again. but still
there came no answer. He was look
ing into the drawn, haggard fea-
lures of an unconscious woman, the
eyes half-open, yet unseeing, one
emanciated hand grasped about
something that was shielded by the
covers. Houston forced himself
even closer. He touched the hand.
called:
"Agnes!"
The eyelids moved slightly: ii was
the only evidence of life, save the
labored. irregular breathing. Then
the hand moved, clutchingly. Slow
ly. tremblingly. Houston turned back
an edge of the blankets-and stood
aghast.
On her breast was a baby-dead!
CHAPTER XVII
Soon water was boiling. Hot cloths
went % the woman's head; quietly.
r~everently, Barry had taken the still,
small child from the tightly clenched
arm and covered it on the little table.
And with the touch of the small,
lifeless form, the resentment which
had smoldered in Houston's heart
for months seemed to disappear.
I'm sorry-Agnes. Don't be
afraid of me. I'll get help for you"
Don't"
There was the dullness that comes
when grief has reached the break
ing point. Dead. 1t died-yester-
day morning"
Houston could say nothing in an
swer. Quietly he turned to the stove,
red-hot now, and with snow water
began the making of Cruel from the
supplies on the shelf.
Forcing himself to the subject,
Houston asked a question::
Where is he
ssxvIoofb Cn1Aap FRIGHT had r0mp
into the woman's eyes.
your husband"
CONTINUED I'm Our Next Issuc)