The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1924-01-10

Down in the bottom OF the mono" lhe
shadows lay heavy, but the light sun
touched the uncanny hovel squatted
against the hillside.
Stealing through the bushes ana
brambles, he crept up to the place I'M
der cover of the fallen oak, with its
~festoons of wild cucumber vines Near
the corner most densely hidden by the
vines a chink had dropped out IRON
between the logs, leaving Il narrow
crevice. Shading his eyes. he peepeu
within. The cabin was empty.
Hugging the wall closely, he erept
around to the sagging door; softly
pushed it open. His eyes lifted at what
he saw-an old box on end near what
had once been the fireplace. an empty
whisky bottle on the box, with a lamp
standing beside it ready TO light Il
blanket ready to hang over the
smudged window.
The dusty floor was covered with
tracks-man tracks-one mans. Step
ping so as carefully 20 set his feet in
the tracks, he entered the cabin and
closed the door.
The tracks had been made by a boot
much worn and frayed. The MAI that
made them must have been large and
heavy, for his boot heel had denied
deep into the floor boards, and the
length of his stride indicated him TO
be little, if any, under six feet. The
profusion of tracks, together with a
number of h%alf-burned matches scat
tered about the floor, indicated that
he had been there some time-pOssibly
several times.
The woodsman found himself Won
dering what of man he could
have been, and what his purpose. And
why did he bring a lamp instead of a
candle? Lamps were none too plenty
in the Flatwoods. Again there came
over him that strangely disquieting
premonition of danger-intangible; in
definable; deadly deliberate.
Everything pointed to the conclusion
that the cabins unknown visitor would
come again-probably with the night.
The lamp on the box, the blanket ready
to hang over the window, were not
without a purpose. What that purpose
might prove TO be could only be con-
jectured-possibly horse stealing. But
no, or why a lamp instead of a candle?
He glanced up at the loft-except
for a few boards lying loose and scat
tered about upon the joists, the cabin
was open to the roof; he looked
n ro.rnE ;nfA tho lfpa for onrnnr no oly
of the door-it was half filled with
a clutter of rubbish, broken boxes and
the like-but no tracks led that way.
Using the greatest care to conceal
his footprints, he opened the door,
stepped cautiously out, closed it and,
rounding weeds and bushes, slipped
away up the side of the timbered bluff,
through the woods and back to his I'M
finished chores.
After a hasty supper, he drew out
his revolver; bent we it a brief but
spection by the candle; tried the trig-
ger-pull twirled the cylinder; dropped
1t back in the holster; blew out the
candle and laid his hand to the door
latch. The warning of the mountain
girl crossed his mind-he turned back;
hide its light opened the door softly
and stepped out into the gathering
night toward the dead woodchopper's
cabin.
The cloud-bank had dissolved in the
west when he again reached the i'll
omened howell and the sky was hang
ing out its stars-the big one already
out, and the little ones coming.
He again crept down the wooded
face of the bluff and, under cover Of
the fallen oak, festoOned with the wild
cucumber vines, stole up to the chink
N the wall and peeped between the
logs. The cabin was apparently empty
Of it's unknown intruder.
After listening intently for some
time he again stole around the wall to
the door, pushed it slowly open and
entered. AS soon as his eyes grew ac-
customed to the gloom, he saw that the
room was just as he had left it a few
hours earlier.
Not daring to venture out on the
floor, the light being too dim again to
risk hiding his trail by stepping in the
tracks, he reached up, caught one of
he joists and, swinging from hand to
hand, crossed to the far corner of the
'oom concealed himself behind the old
boards and boxes of the rubbish heap
sat gripping his sore shoulder
he exertion had opened the cash, and
could feel the blood crawling down
lis side.
There is something depressing, fear
some, about entering an old deserted
louse-especially after nightfall. And
his was the cabin of dead Henry
Few -1atwoodsmen would {
are to go les it-much less into it
1t such an hour. I
Jack watched the last faint light
rom the west die out in the smudped