Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1925-04-16

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blistered feet, negatived all sugges-
tons for a rest; each stop that Lee
boeuf, who had taken command, en-
forced, was maddening to him.
The certainty in Lees mind of
Joyce's fate gave him superhuman
endurance. Twice before Railway and
he had met; this time he swore that If
the girl had suffered at his hands, he
should pay for it with his life, de-
spite his duty to the police.
Night fell, and still they pursued
their course through the darkness, I'M
| til, passing in single file along the
track through the morass, known to
the Indian, they reached the promon-
tory well before morning.
AS they approached the neck they
saw figures stealing toward them.
Thinking that their presence had been
discovered Lee sprang forward with
his challenge
It was the man Kramer who, under
the impression that Lee was Rath-
way, fired as the words left his lips.
| Lee fired back, both missed, but a
bullet from Leboeuf's rifle passed
through Kramer's breast and with a
strangling cry the man pitched for
| forward into the lake across the broken
parapet.
| A scattering fusifade from both
sides followed. Then Lee, Leboeuf,
and Father McGrath were across the
neck among the gang, and laying them
about with their rifle butts.
That's for We, ye theft" Lee heard
the priest shout, as he felled the tall
ruffian with a blow. That's for We,
We swindlin .hooch peddler, meexin
your feelthy hooch in wi guild liquor.
And is that yoersel, Sweeney That's
what I promised We lang syne when /
caught We near the meesionl"
Crash, thudded his rifle stock upon
a head. Father McGrath, in fact,
seemed to be mixing in a good deal
of private vengeance with the cru
SADIE. At every thud man dropped,
and as he smote right and left, GUST
ing his companions from the fray,
sort of war chant broke from his lips.
But the rally was only momentary
one. Having emptied their pistols,
Railways men streamed away in flight
across the promontory, to be brought
up and cornered at the further end.
Then, at Lees demand, arms were
flung up, and pistols went gathering
down.
1t was not until now that the gang
appeared to realize that it was not
Railway who had turned the tables.
The sight of Lee took what spirit re-
NAMED from them. Two of the men
were slightly wounded, two we've half
dazed by McGraths blows, and all
were injured in one way or another;
none of them had any more fight in
them.
Lee scanned their faces. "Where's
Rathway?" he shouted.
They exchanged glances. Willing
as they were to give up their leader.
with or without compensation, the
same thought had occurred simultane-
ously to each of them, that to betray
Railway meant giving up all chances
Of a share in the gold.
And as long as the hut remained
undiscovered that chance always
existed.
Impatient of their evasion, Lee
dashed out of the hut into which Lee
bOeuf, McGrath and he had herded
them, searching for Joyce. He ran
into the hut adjacent, then raced
across the promontory to the huts near
the neck. But Joyce was not in either
of these.
There remained the central store
house, and, running toward it, Lee
dealt a succession of furious blows
against the door with his rifle stock
1t cracked, splintered and fell off it's
hinges.
McGrath was at his side The
priest struck a match, and by the light
of the tiny flare it could be seen that
the interior of the place was empty.
Lee swung his rifle butt furiously,
knocking over barrels and boxes in the
vain hope that Railway, at least. was
hiding behind them But he was not
there. Shaking off the priest, who
sought to detain him, Lee ran back to
the hut in which the men were herded.
"Where Is she?" he shouted, dwelling
his rifle at Pierre's face.
I'm the hut across the neck" Pierre
babbled, gray with the terror of death.
| Lee ran back across the promontory
once more, needless of his compan-
ions shouts behind him. He dashed
along a little trail that ran into the
heart Of the reeds, fiinsing the dry
stalks right and left, as one parts
hanging screen of beads.
For a few moments he felt the
ground hard beneath his feet. Then
the little path ended. He tro3 on
qual1ing muskeg. He pushed on.
Again a path seemed to open before
him. Again it closed. The head-high
reeds were all about him now, the
muskeg held him, and he went tioun-
dering in the mud like mired caribou.
He struggled on, sometimes sinking
knee deep in the swamp. He dashed
his rifle against the rafting reeds,
swinging 1t around and around his
head, in the effort TO beat them down
and discover what lay before him.
But they rose resilient from the ground
like armed enemies, and in the dark
he could see nothing.
He shouted Joyces name, and now,
bewildered, he began to circle blindly
on his tracks among the reeds, dash