Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1924-02-21
cHAPTER xI-c0ntinued.

trees and stepped almost directly
above his head in the top twigs of a
hickory sapling and there swelled
out wild burst of reckless melody
that clothed the hickory with music
as the opening buds clothed the crab
apple tree with beauty.
Il thought so, oil warcoat," the
man muttered, glancing up. 'You
know where she is, don't y'u?"
He stepped softly toward the crab
apple tree-the wild song burst in the
hickory ceasing the instant he moved
and peered in through the gnarled
limbs and tangled twigs.
Shrugged down among some drifted
dead leaves he found it, the treasure
that inspired the cardinals song-a
roughly built, deep little nest, and,
shining above its edge, a dark glossy
crest, some long tail feathers, short,
heavy, reddish bill and a round gilt
tering eye, black as dewberry.
He let the limb he had bent aside
swing slowly back into place and
stole away.
"Alw'ys two" ran his thought
ga pair; mates-it's natures way.
Pheasants and cardinals and folks
they're all the same-though birds
and beasts alw'ys run true, while
folks sometimes-oh we'll"
He walked away toward the west,
coming at length to where the up
lands ended abruptly in the line of
wooded bluffs that fell steeply to the
deep and winding scar of Eagle
hollow, and the exact point where
the double trail had run plainest
the day before-a fact that had
doubtless brought him just there.
He bent critical look upon the lout-
ish trail; carefully crossed it; stepped
out under a clump of haw trees at the
very brink of the bluff and stood keen
ly searching the woods in every direc-
ton
Below him and a short distance
farther down the hollow an old desert
ed cabin of mud-daubed logs squatted
against the bluff few yards back
from the Eagle Hollow road. The
place had a reputation in the Flat
woods It was the uncanny howell of
dead Henry Spencer, a wOodchopper,
who, on a winter night years before,
while in drunken frenzy, had MUIR
dered his wife and infant daughter
with an ak, then had wandered out
half naked and frozen to death in the
snow.
What had once been yard and tiny
garden was now overrun with weeds
so rank that storms and snow could
no longer break them down. A fallen
oak had but just missed the cabin,
and lay so close to one corner that
some wild cucumber vines Of the
season before had crossed to the
ruined roof and still hung in brown
and dead festoons stretched from the
fast decaying clapboards to the
fungous warted branches.
A pair of chimney swallows, true
prophets Of summer, darted in and
out of the crumbling chimney A
yellow-hammer Hoped down out of
the woods, lighted upon the dry and
sounding eomb-bOard and drummed a
challenge to all and sundry other gel
low-hammers-or was it love call to
his mate in the dead limb of syca-
more down at the creek across the
road?
The sound drew the eyes of the
man. At the moment one of the swal-
lows rose above the roof. AS he fol
lowed its flight, the chimneys and
gables of the red-roofed cottage, near
ly a mile away down the hollow, came
unexpectedly within his range of vi
sion. His brows drew together; he
gripped the shotgun; turned and
strobe through the fringing brambles
back among the trees.
Half a mile farther up the hollow,
at the point where he had left off fol-
lowing the double trail the day be-
fore, he picked his way down the
rough and stony side Of the wooded
bluff to the road. He was just in the
act of stepping out from the fringing
trees to cross it when the soft swish
of a bush short distance above
caught his quick ear.
hind the log, he threw the heavy shot
gun to instant readiness and stood
dead still, his eyes searching every
leaf and twig along the hillside.
There came a soft football, the
bushes swayed, parted snd a young
woman stepped out into the compare
lively open glade where he stood-a
girl that he had never seen, flushed
and breathing hard.
She saw him on the instant, and her
face went white. She darted in among
the bushes again, stopped, came slow
ly back, stood studying him. He was
as closely studying her-plainly, even
shabbily dressed; her faded sunbon-
net awry; her hair disheveled by the
brambles; but, in spite Of all, comely.
and rudy with health.
She made quick effort to adjust
the sunbonnet; spared hasty touch
to the disheyeled hair and raised her
eyes. He noticed they were blue.
you don't chance t. be Mr.-Big
Jack"
The woodsman studied her from I'M
der half closed lids.
"They call me-that-" He raised
his eyes a trifie. "And youT'
She glanced uneasily up the hollow
and back to his face. Half covertly
searching his eyes, she seemed to
gather reinsurance from the level