The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1922-06-02

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ing the time or place of Uncle Benny's
death. That the package had been
mailed from Manitowoc meant nothing
definite. Some one-Constance could
not know whOm-had had the mufiler
! and the scrawled leaf of directions;
later, after lying in water and in sand,
the things which were to be "sent"
Most probably this some one had been
one who was going about on ships;
when his ship had touched at Mani
towoc. he had executed his charge.
Constance left the articles upon the
bed and threw the window more wide
ly open. She trembled and felt stirred
and faint, as she leaned against the
window, breathing deeply the warm
air, full of life and with the scent
of the evergreen trees about the
house
The cottage" of some twenty rooms
stood among the pines and hemlocks
| interSpersed with hardwood on "the
Point" where were the great fine sum-
mer homes of the weather. ''re-
sorters."
This was Uncle Benny's country.
Here, twenty-five years before, he had
first met Henry, whose Birthplace
| farm, deserted nOw-was only few
miles back among the hills. Here,
. before that, Uncle Benny had been a
young man. active, vigorous, ambitious.
He had loved this country for itself
and for its traditions, its Indian
! legends and fantastic stories. Half
her own love for it-and since her
childhood, it had been to her region
of delight-waS due to him and to the
| things he had told her about it. Dis
tinct and definite memories Of that
companiOnship came to her. This lit
tie bay, which had become now for
| the most part only a summer play
| ground for such as she, had been once
a place where he and other men had
struggled to grow rich swiftly; he
had outlined for her the ruined lumber
docks and pointed out to her the loca
| tiOns of the diSmantled sawmills. 1t
was he who had told her the names
of the freighters passing far out, and
the names of the lighthouses, and
something about each. He had told
her, too, about the Indians. She re-
membered one starry night when he
had pointed out to her in the sky the
Indian sway of Ghosts" the Milky
way, along which, by ancient Indian
belief, the souls of Indians travelled
up to heaven; and how, later, lying
on the recessed seat beside the fire.
place where she could touch the dogs
| upon the hearth, he had pointed out
| to her through the window the Indian
"Way Of Dogs" among the constella-
lions. by which the dogs too could
make that journey. 1t was he who
had told her about MichabOu and the
animals: and he had been the first
to tell her Of the Drum.
The disgrace, unhappiness, the threat
of something worse, which must have
made death relief to Uncle Benny.
she had seen passed on now to Alan.
What more had come to alan since
she had last heard of him?
Word had reached her father
through shipping circles in May and
again in July which told of inquiries
regarding Uncle Benny which made
her and her father believe that Alan
was searching for his father upon the
lakes. Now these articles which had
arrived made plain to her that he
would learn, through others or through
themselves, that Uncle Benny was
dead. Would he believe then that
there was no longer any chance of
learning what his father had done?
| Would he remain away because of
that, not letting her see or hear from
! him again?
| She went back and picked up the
wedding ring. The thought which had
| come to her that this was Alan's moth
er's wedding ring, had fastened itself
upon her with sense of certainty. 1t
| defended that unknown mother; 1t
| freed her, at least, from the stigma
which Constance's own mother had
been so ready to cast. Constance could
not yet begin to place Uncle Benny
| i'm relation to that ring; but she was
| beginning to be able to think of Alan
| and his mother She held the little
band of gold very tenderly in her
| hand: she was glad that as the ac-
| cusation against his mother had come
through her people, she could tell him
soon of this. She could not send the
! ring to him, not knowing where he
was: that was too much risk. But she
could ask him to come TO her; this
gave that right.
She sat thoughtful for several min
utes, the ring clasped warmly in her
hand; then she went to her desk and
wrote:
! Mr.. John Welton,
BLUE Rapids, Kansas.
Dear Mr.. Welton:
at is possible that Alan Conrad
| has mentioned me-or at least told
you of my father-in connection with
| his stay in Chicago. After Alan left
Chicago, my father wrote twice to his
Blue Rapids address. but evidently he
had instructed the postmaster there
| to forward his mail and had not made
any change in those instructions, for
| the letters were returned TO Alan's adj
dress and in that way came back to
u.s. We did not like to press inquiries
| further than that, as of course he
| could have communicated with us If
he mad not felt that there was some
reason for not doing so. Now. how
ever. something of such supreme i'm
portance to him has come to us that
1t Is necessary for us to get word TO
him at once. If you can tell me any
| oh he