Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1924-01-24

I TeXie's startled whisper, as she had
der the evening before, flashed across
his thought. The face behind the log
and the face of his memory rose to mis-
mind as distinct as reflection in
Whispering spring. Unbelievable
though it was-against all reason in
the light of that terrible letter-he
saw the resemblance she had fancied
vague, half intangible, but none the
less a resemblance.
With the tail of his eye on the log,
the WoodSman went on with his work,
apparently absorbed in it, really with
no other thought than to put as great
a length of fence row as possible be-
tween himself and that scowling face
and in as short time as was prudent.
! The moment he thought himself out
of sight, he took out rail Of the fence,
crawled through the opening and, with
every caution known to Woodcraft,
crept back through the underbrush to-
ward the log, The broken outline of it
at last came into view through clump
Of hazel. He raised his head ever SO
little and lay listening. Not false
note disturbed the soft purr of nature:
the pulse Of the woods beat normal
He dropped his head; crawled up to
the log. The leaves were fattened and
still warm, but the man was gone.
He searched the moss and leaves I'M
til he found the trail-the scrape of a
boot IN spot of moist ground at the
foot of an oak. After that it was easy.
There we're two sets Of tracks TO his
surprise one set led back toward the
cliffs above the homestead. He fol-
lowed it. At point along the bluffs
that commanded the nearest view of
the cabin under the crimson rambler
the mussed leaves and broken weeds
beneath a clump Of bushes at the very
brink Of the rocks showed where the
renegade had concealed himself. Three
half-burned matches, with which he
had probably lighted his pipe, indicat-
ed that he had remained some time
Jack glanced down at the tiny cabin,
the barn-lot, turned and followed the
trail back under the trees
Past the log it led, away to the
north, down the face of the wooded
bluff and into the narrow road that
threaded Eagle hollow. He followed it
within sight Of the rude howell at the
head of the hollow into which Loge
Belden and his sister had lately
moved; stopped; studied the place
critically for moment; finally turned,
climbed the bluff and, with an I'M
comfortable feeling of hidden eyes
upon him, returned to his task at the
fence.
The forenoon was gone by the time
he finished it. AS he trudged back,
the corner where he had found the
yellow orchid drew his eye irresistibly.
Raking away the dead leaves he dug
it up, being careful to leave enough
soil about the roots to prevent their
whitening and carried it in his hands
out through the trees and up among
the tumbled ramparts of Black rock.
In the tiny flower bed at the foot
of the sandstone pinnacle where the
three names were carved, he followed
out a place in the rich leaf-mold and
set the orchid with the Others-all Of
them doubtless having come there at
different times In the same way; rose
to his feet and stood deeply ponder
ing. as his gaze rested on the three
names carved in the rock. That baf-
fling resemblance. in spite of him,
would creep back into his thought.
The bold frankness of the mans
face settled to deeper thoughtful
ness; he looked down at the new or
child among the old, fresh and piquant
as when he dug it out Of the fence
corner; glanced toward the red-roofed
cottage, and set his feet to the rough
path that led down to the fallow yard.