Evening star., 1923-09-17


in her chair and mutter:
There's goin' to be killin'-there's
goin' to be killin'-it's the she Ban
shee's will. The spirit warnin' there's
goin' to be killin'i''
lis that what their screaming
means?" Pete asked sleepily between
his hands.
ITS the spirit tellfn' of killin'
that's comin'-old Hatty knows. She's
heard 'em since long before miners
like you come into the hills-they
always tell Hatty."
"Hatty." The name suggested some
thing to Pete's drowsy brain. "Hatty."
A picture of the prison house and of
men talking came to him. 1t was
someone talking to Butler Garret who
talking about Slim Eliot and the un-
successful trip to Jumbo Point
"Hatty would have seen Hawkins"
He recalled the exact words, as he
looked toward the old woman again.
You're a friend of Slim Eliot-aren't
your" he asked.
"Old Hatty-friend of all men
friend of many. many men no more in
mountains. When she Banshee cries
another friend of Hatty leaves noun
tains. Maybe Slim Eliot-who knows?
Only Banshee spirit-maybe strange
miner new in hills-who knows? She
Banshee calls-some one must an
swer."
Pete. exhausted as he was, found
the effort of talking too much for his
drowsy brain and settled back in the
comfortable chair and slept, leaving
old Hatty swaying back and forth,
muttering aloud with every cry from
the pahthers that now seemed to be
making their way slowly up the
gorge.
It seemed to Pete he had hardly
closed his eyes before the rattle of
dishes by his side aroused him. Only
his eyelids moved without pain, and
even they seemed hot and swollen.
His neck seemed entirely out of joint
when he tried to turn his head to find
the occasion for the rafting of dishes.
With an effort he Strengthened up In
his chair-involuntarily uttering
grunts of pain as he shifted the posi-
ton of his limbs. At length he was
able to come to his feet and look
about him. 1t was already daylight
outside. He must have Travelled far
into the night, he reasoned, probably
spurred on to more than ordinary
effort by the cursed panthers that
seemed now to be but part of gro
tesque nightmare of the night before.
The pot which Pete had observed on
the table when he entered now hung
suspended from an iron hook over
the red Goals of the fire. The aroma
of boiling coffee blended peculiarly
with the spicy fragrance of the room
and had the effect of giving to Pete's
contemplation of the morning meal
very satisfying sensation.
Hatty continued to consider the
presence of the stranger in her shack
as quite an ordinary occurrence and
evidenced no desire even to glance in
his direction, let alone to engage him
in conversation.
Observing her apparent lack of in
terest, Pete sauntered out of the door,
and prepared to battle his face in
snow, considering 1t more effective in
stimulating his bearded skin than
water would be, even If he bothered
to request some of the old Indian
woman.
The sight that greeted him as he
walked into the open left nothing by
way of stimulation for the expected
rub of snow. There before him
stretched an expanse of mountain
scenery that seemed to separate him
entirely from his aching limbs and
drowsy head as though by the touch
of a magic wand. Champagne of the
rarest vintage was never more pleas
ing to his taste than the fresh noun
tain air now felt to his nostrils and
lungs. Even his aching muscles
seemed to become promises of new
strength, rather than reminders of
his late journey as he gazed on the
inspiring scene.
He had come out prepared to look
upon tortuous trail that had pun
before. Instead he thrilled with pride
as he looked down upon the winding
gulch through which he had battled
his way.
The deep swish of gurgling waters
alone broke the charm of the morn
ing stiffness. The stream, as though
shrinking with fear from the broad,
white expanse about it, tunneled It's
way beneath covering of ice and
snow, and only at one place did it
show itself. In this lone spot the
water seemed black and cruel. and
as he watched them sweep beneath
their white covering, his mind pic
tured the insidious work of the pro-
moters, also carrying on their work
of black deception beneath the white
veneer of law and glittering paper.
He thought of NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
old sage of the mountains, strug-
CLING against hopeless odds to retain
his heritage in the hills, even now, in
all probability, lying in an untimely
grave. From Hawkins his mind shift
ed to the form of his dream girl-she
who had administered to his fevered
brow when his overtaxed nerves and
body sagged Imply by the bedside in
the prison house. And then another
girl whose laughing blue eyes were
sad and still; whose face, once love-
ly in its youth, was drawn with lines
of worry and care. Hands tender and
warm, fit only for acts of mercy and
love, in the new mental picture,
it all as he stood there-gazing into
the swfrling black waters of the
stream. And as he gazed his
thoughts turned inward and searched
barren his life had been! How de-
void of soul satisfying achievement!
Yet the thought failed, as was it's
wont so oft before, to carry with it
the bitter pangs of self-condemnation
the pangs that had driven him forth
No. he could expose his very soul
now it seemed-even to the sacred
purity of nature-and feel that all was
we'll. Only the yearning for achieve
ment remained, yearning that now
seemed to take possession of him as
nothing else had ever done. He had
felt the urge before, but only slight
flush compared with the fever that
seized him now. And always before
the promptings had sent him search
ing for he knew not what, while now
the fire within pointed the way. He
had always lived, the urge seemed to
tell him. for this very day, for these
very hills that stretched majestically
before him; and for service to his
fellow men and to the holy cause of
of the wolves of Wall street, the
wildcat promoters who preyed on the
credulity of small investors on the
one hand-and on the small mine
owners on the other. Since his very
first night in Moapa he had been
thrown against them, 1t seemed.
Coming to Montana as he had In an
uncertain effort to run away from
his own self-infiicted worries, he
founds himself forgetting them in
contemplation of how he could share
the troubles of others. of Hawkins
if he were alive, and of Tam. who
seemed so strangely enmeshed in the
tolls of Salmon River Gold Company.
The perils and hardships of the past
week had done much to erase from
his nature what little remained of