Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1925-07-22

And now Lorimer had gone ana
married that Injun girl, and knew
nothing about this affair, and would
know nothing for year or SO if his
mail didn't get to him!
The man stared before him, pay
ing no heed to chattcring red squir-
rels, unconscious of passing of a
big cock partridge with black velvet
ruffs outspread.
He had rather wanted that girl for
himself. But-Lorimer had married
her and she was his wife, and-and
she had an interest in whatever the
old chap in England might have left
to her husband!
The notion struck Curran all of a
heap. He was whiting viciously at
a splinter of pine.
"What a chancew said he, as he
threw away the pine splinter. "Lori-
mer would leave all he had to his
wife. That's the kind of fool he is.
Then, supposing something was to
happen to him-upset in rapids or
lost on the barrens, or-or-he
meets some accident! Then the wo-
man owns the whole shooting match.
If she married another husband he
could put his finger in the pie. She'd
be only too glad to marry again and
live in a house and get all the grub
she wanted-no trouble about thatw
He pushed his SLOUGH hat back on
his head. His forehead was rather
bald, though he was scarcely over
thirty years old. His long black
mustache dropped over the corners
of his narrow lips, and his intense
preoccupation seemed to deepen the
lines running from the sides of his
nose. to the ends of the mouth
The face was handsome, yet mar
red by the stiffness of his deep,
black eyes. His expression was
hardly pleasant one as he rose and
walked rapidly toward the post.
When he reached the building Ted
Fisk was outside scrubbing his face
before a three-legged stool support
ing tin basin and cake of yellow
soap. The TshemUak agent took his
turn at the wash-stand, for men OF
the woods are commonly clean lot.
Ted's wife, a motherly, cheerful
creature, served the men with pork
and beans and hot pancakes and
strong tea. Her doughnuts were IA
nous and the hungry men did not
neglect them.
"Pretty near the last of good grub
for while" remarked Curran, as he
rose from the table.
"You never look starved yhen you
get back from Tshemuak," laughed
the wife.
MAYBE" he answered, "but I
amt goin' to live on sourdough bread
and fat pork all my life"
He lighted his pipe and went out
to the porch, where he sat quite lost
In his FESTIVE thoughts.
Not far away, from a barn in the
middle of field studded with black
ened stumps, came the sound of
concertina. After a few moments
Curran strolled toward it and en-
tered.
Paul Chambord, Frenchman,
perched on a barrel, was tackllng
his instrument Justify. A few women
and a score of men were in the
maze of country dance with al the
energy in fashion among lur'oer-
men and voyageurs. Already some
of them seemed to have had all the
cheap liquor that was good for them.
''I'll make some of you sweat, be-
ginning tomorrow Curran muir
INJURED between his teeth.
He declined invitations to join the
dance, and returned to the post,
where he sat on the porch for long
time, needless of hungry mosquitoes,
until Ted Fisk and his wife came
hack from the dance.
give been telling those lads that
the voyageurs ought to be getting to
bed" said the agent. "but they'll be
up most all night and played out in
the morning"
They'll be worse played out when
I get through with 'em," announced
Curran decisively.