Graham guardian., 1922-08-01
fVICTOR ROUSSEAU.
illustrations BY. RHLiVingstone :,

hill, and as they reached the summit
they saw the sweetest sight that they
had ever seen. For far away was Clay
ton. over the plain, with its ugly
streets and bare, new houses, and the
gaunt station buildings. roundhouses
and locomotive shops.
They were white as shrouded bodies,
besmeared with CRIME, and Wilton was
caked with the blood that had oozed
from his wounds and frozen.
"one last try, Molly" he said, "an1
then they can do what they like With
me. But it's you who pulled that
trick, girl of miner
But as he spoke he shipped to the
ground and leaned his shoulders
against the sleigh.
"Seven miles yet, and the meetings
at nine" he said. II can't make It.
Molly. I've tried. I've fallen short
just short. A little later, Molly. rll---
try again. I'm going to-sleep In the
sunshine
Molly stopped over him, and II was
harder thing than she had ever done
to try to drive the driven man fur
ther. But she knew that, having
staked all, Wilton would be content
with no less than the sacrifice of all.
Remember Joe, dear" she said,
"and Kitty"
He tried TO rise to his feet, but could
not. Wilton's mind was quite clear
but his body, driven by his will, had
collapsed suddenly like worn-out
horse.
Three horsemen were riding over
the plain toward them. They watched
them In a dull apathy. Even Molly
hardly cared any more, except for VIII
ton. And he had done all that man
could do.
AS the men came nearer II could be
seen that they were Of the Mounted
Police. In the foremost Molly recog-
nized Quain, the Inspector who was
in command Of the detachment at Clay
ton.
The three trotted their horses up to
them, and, catching sight of the coffin
upon the sleigh, the inspector dis.
mounted. He looked hard at Wilton,
and suddenly he recognized him.
Its VIII Carruthersl" /" he ex-
claimed, staring into his face in bewil-
derment
Wilton got up with an effort. "Morn-
ing, Jack" he said wearily. "Yes. it's
I. And here's Miss Mcdonald. You
know her, Think
The inspector turned his puzzled
glance on the girl. Mechanically his
hand went up to his cap in salute.
Then he looked at the sleigh again.
"And this is--was Joe Bostock," said
Wilton; and all mt once, In the reac-
tfon from the nervous tension, he felt
the tears streaming down his face, and
could hardly keep his lips steady.
my God y muttered Quain. IAN ac-
cident, WHY"
"Shotl" shouted Wilton. ''Some
sneaking dastard's bullet In the bush.
Shot at my sidel The bullet broke my
arm after 1t had passed through Joe's
heart, and his blood and mine were
mixed together. II didn't need that
for me 10 know that I'll hound the
murderer II It takes me TO my dying
day"
"Joe-Joe dead r. whispered Inspec-
tor Qualn, half unable to realize 1t.
Joe had been very living personality
IN Clayton. "And murdered !" he
added. Then:
"Where are your breedsf'
Gone! But they didn't shoot Joe,
either by design. or accident. That's
story you can learn from Andersen,
at the halfway cache"
THAT'S where we're bound for"
said Quain. "We're looking for"
"And by the way" said Wilton with
a mirthless laugh, as the relative am
Importance Of the fact struck him, "Tm
under arrest for having murdered
Joe"
CONTINUED next week.