Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1922-07-20


He'll be here, and me lying helpless
abed. l tell you l ken the mon. Mr..
BoWyer was telling me about him. His
names by-word among decent folks"
"Well, Mr.. Bowyer's own reputation
isn't the best" she retorted, nettled
that she was forced to champion Will
ton. you know Mr.. Carruthers has
an interest in Joe BostoCk'S line. OF
course, Tom Bowyer would try to set
you against them"
The factors face grew purple with
rage; he chOked for utterance.
Il ken the whole scheme weeI :" he
shouted. "When you went to Winn-
peg you got in thick with Kitty Bos-
took, and never mail comes in but
there's letter from her. She and
Joe are going to get you there, to leave
Inc here alone. Aye, | read that letter
the woman wrote you, telling you that
your life was wasted here. | ken what
the warld is; | learned it one night
in Toronto, years ago. And, mark me,
Ia rather see We lying dead at my
feet than the plaything of a man like
viii Carruthers."
That had been the burden of his re-
proaChes ever since Tom BOWyer's
visit the autumn before.
Bowyer had poisoned his mind
against Wlton-Molly was sure of
that. She suspected chat BoWyer had
some hold over her father. She knew
that, years before, he had secured him
his position with the company. As it
happened, the company needed men
for training-Scots for the service
had become tradition in North
Britain since the days of Mckenzie.
And the company does not pick its
employees out of the highways and
byways.
Molly had known Tom Bower since
childhood, although his visits to
the trading post had occurred not
oftener than once in two or three
years She had heard much to his dis
credit in Winnipeg, and had verified it
when he spent a day or two at the
portage in October. BOwyer saw big
ger game in prospect than the moose,
and. as a beginning resolved to rid
himself of a possible rival-Wilton
Molly had spoken we'll of him, and
BoWyer was a keen reader of mind.
When the storm of her fathers rage
had passed, the girl went down and
stood miSerably in the doorway. His
insane OutburSts were driving her to
the very course he feared. Only his
illness kept her from going away. She
looked out, her mind in a turmoil of
doubt.
Big Muskeg was at its loneliest. The
gale was driving the snow before it in
clouds like spray, and the wind howled
through the gap in the bluffs As the
girl stood there she fancied that she
heard cry come across the frozen
swamp.
She slipped on the hooded coat
which she had left in the store, and
went slowly toward the portage, lis
tening intently. The driving wind had
swept a portion of the trodden road
clear of the fallen snow. In this, near
the edge of the muskeg, she saw the
imprint of mans snowshoe coming
from the swamp. Her eyes, trained to
observation, detected instantly that
there had been loose string under
the ball of the foot, which had trailed
leaving an oblique blur across the
impression.
There was the one imprint, and no
more. And, as she looked at it, a gust
of wind drove a cloud of snow over it.,
obliterating it, Molly stood up. The
discovery, which seemed of no impor-
lance, passed from her mind. Again
she listened.
Then, with the uncomfortable feel
ing that she was being watched, she
started and peered into the under
brush. A pair of beady eyes watched
her. They were those of Jules, the
half-witted deaf-mute. For the mo-
ment Molly was startled. Then she
stepped forward, and the MuskegOn
vanished soundlessly among the under
brush.
AS the girl stood there she thought
she heard the cry once more. At once
she was running down to the edge Of
the swamp and, standing her ground
with difficulty in the fierce gale, she
peered out, sheltering her eyes with
her hand.
Then, dimly out of the whrling
snow, she saw a figure stumbling to-
ward her, bearing on its shoulder
something that looked like a railroad
sleeper.
Sometimes it vanished from her
sight in the circular whirl of Sleet,
at others reappeared, stumbling into
the drifts, but ever nearing her. 1t
was within twenty-five feet of her
when it slipped, and there followed
the crash of the rotten ice beneath its
feet. The figure broke through the
slushy layer into the muskeg below.
Thus Wilton Carruthers came to the
portage for the fourth time. And on
! this occasion he was saved by the dead
man, for whose lifelesS body he had
riskeG his own life. For, as he fell,
still clutChing at what he bore. the
| Stiffpnp1 form slid ONT pvnr tI,o al,