The L'Anse sentinel., 1922-12-30

ana nOtnnS more. but ne Wouid Wuho
up from his dreams at night to feel
Linda's kiss upon his lips. To recall
II brought a strange tenderness - a
softening of all the hard outlines Of
his picture of life.
But aside from his contemplations
Of Linda, the long tramp had many de-
lights for him. He rejolced In every
manifestation Of the wild life about
him, whether 1t was bushy-tailed old
gray squirrel, watching him from a
tree limb, magpie trying Its best to
insult him. or the fieeting glimpse Of q
deer In the coverts. But he didn't see
the Killer again. He didn't particularly
care to do so. -
Both days of the journey home he
wakened sharply at dawn. The cool,
morning hours were the best for travel.
He was of naturally strong physique.
and although the days fatigued him un-
merclfully, he always wakened re-
freshed In the dawn. At noon he would
stop to lunch, eating few pieces OF
jerkey and frying single flapjack In
his skillet. And usually, during tha
noon rest, he would practice with his
rifle.
He knew that IL he were to fight the
Turner'S, skill with rifle was an alb.
solute necessity; such skill as would
have felled the grizzly with one shot
instead Of administering merely flesh
wound, accuracy to take Off the head
of a grouse at fifty yards and at the
same time, an ability to swing. and
aim the weapon In the shortest possi-
BILE space of time. The only thing that
retarded him was the realization that
he must not waste too many car.
trldges. Elmira had brought him only
q small supply.
He would walk all afternoon-going
somewhat easier and resting more of
ten than in the morning; and these
were the times that he appreciated a
fragment of jerked venison. He would
halt just before nightfall and make his
camp.
And the best hour of all was after
shadows with his pipe. At this hour
he felt the spirit Of the pines as never
before. He knew their great, brood
ing sorrow, their infinite wisdom, their
inexpressible aloofness with which
they kept watch over the wilderness.
The smoke would drift about him In
soothing clouds; the glow Of the Goals
was red and warm over him. He could
think then. Life revealed some of its
lesser mysteries to him. And he be-
gan to glimpse the distant CLEAN Of
even greater truths, and sometimes IL
| seemed to him that he could almost
catch and hold them. Always II was
some message that the pines were try
Ing to tell hlm-partly In words they
made when their limbs ynbbed togeth-
er, partly In the nature of a great allie
CORY Of which their dark, impassive
forms were the symbols. If he could
only see clearly! But 1t seemed to him
that passion blinded his eyes. More
and more he realized that the pines,
like the stars, were living symbols Of
great powers who lived above the
world, powers that would speak to
men IL they would but listen long and
patiently enough, and in whose creed
lay happiness.
The last afternoon he travelled hard.
He wanted to reach Linda's house be-
fore nightfall. But the trail was too
long for that. The twilight fell, to
find him still a weary two miles dis
tant. And the way was quite dark
when he plunged into the south pas
ture Of the Ross estates.
Half an hour later he was beneath
the Sentinel Pine. He wondered why
Linda was not waiting beneath 1t In
his fancy, he thought Of II as being
the ordained place for her But per
haps she had merely failed to hear his
footsteps. He called into the open
door.
linda" he said, tive come bach" {"
No answer reached him. The words
rang through the silent rooms and
echoed back to him. He walked over
the threshold.
A chair In the front room was turned
over. His heart leaped at the sight
Of It. Linda" he called In alarm,
"where are your It's Bruce"
He stood an instant listening. q
great fear creeping over him. He
called once more, first to Linda and
then to the old woman. Then he
leaped through the doorway.
The kitchen was similarly deserted.
From there he went to Linda's room.
Her coat and hat lay on the bed. but
there was no Linda to stretch her arms
to him. He started to go out the way
he had come, but went instead to his
own room. A sheet Of note-paper lay
on the bed.
| II had been scrawled hurriedly; but
although he had never received writ
| ten word from Linda he did not doubt
but that 1t was her hand:
"The Turner'S are coming-I caught
a glimpse Of them on the ridge. There
Is no use Of my trying to resist, so I'll
wait for them in the front room and
maybe they won't find this note. They
will take me to Simon's house, and
I know from its structure that they
will lock me in an interior room IN