White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1926-11-05
CONTINUED from Last week)


Here it was born in upon Hickory
Pete Grimble that good cause does
not make easy fighting. He had
known that Carlow and Fessette
would take up the battle, but he had
not suspected the quality of Johnny
Fessette. He was an artist of fight
er, and he loved war for its own sake.
Before the fallen Prime had quite
settled to rest, Johnny had leaped
over him and landed staggering
kick against the chest of Hickory
Pete.
Pete knew then, as he tried to seize
that leg and failed, that the odds
were smotheringly against him. He
saw, out of the corner of his eye, the
lean form of Tink Carlow circling like
wolf. There was no chance for him
| to disengage. An instant's hesitancy
and Fessette would have him down.
Run, Della!" cried Pete, and then
he saved his breath for what was
| ahead of him.
Fortunately it was in that hour for
Hickory Pete that he was rightly
| named, and that his skull was of
good thickness. Think Carlow struck
| from behind, with a club, but half
dozen blows had thudded upon Pete's
wooden cap before he left his knees
buckling under him. Short of MUIR
| der, they would do what they pleased
| to him. He knew that, and he swung
around recklessly and caught the I'M
prepared Carlow was his last blow.
There was satisfaction in that even
as he fell with Fessette upon his
| shoulders.
| During the age-long time while
they still kicked and struck at him,
Hickory Pete locked his teeth and set
his wavering consciousness on the
moment when it would end and give
him rest. Sometime their feet would
tire; some time the club would break.
He sank back into a black pit and
.jerked himself upward time and
again; until finally he was at equili-
brium in a gray and silent misery.
Numb and helpless and with just
sufficient hold upon consciousness to
know that he was helpless. Not car
ing. At last he moved his fingers.
His mittens were still on; his hands
would not free. The cartilage of a
bruised ear began to ache. Then his
cap must be on, or his ears would
have frozen long since.
Pain rose with the returning tide
of consciousness. After long time
he moved, with shrieking muscles.
He forced himself up to sitting posi-
ton. Darkness. He pulled Off his
mittens and found with relief that
his swollen eyes had merely frozen
shut. He thawed them with the
palms of his hand. The lids opened
far enough for him to see with rea-
sonable distinctness.
"Licked!" he muttered thickly,
through lips that felt like pillows.
Then he fared with rage at himself.
mot unless you give up, you blame
fool!"
He stood up, swaying. The pads
and bands of muscle upon his body
seemed to creak; he was like rusty
and twisted machine. But his arms
and legs moved; his ribs were solid
And that splendidly hard head Of his
was not dented anywhere. He be-
gan to search the snow for tracks.
(. Della had run back along the road
full half mile before they caught
her. He saw the spots where little
heels had dug in, and little feet
dragged. Then her tracks were. un
evenly between larger ones on each
side. Crying, probably, and scared
half to death. His fists clenched with
in the sheep-lined mittens.
Grimble squinted at the shadows
He would be able to make the Broker
Finger about dark. So much the bet
ter. His legs began to timber as he
walked; he swung his arms to keer
them from stiffening. He was little
hungry. and very thirsty. He put q
handful of snow into his mouth and
went steadily onward.
At dusk Pete reached the clearing
where the roadhouse stood upon the
shore of Lake Champlain. 1t was still
light enough SO that he could see q
handful of shanties built upon the
frozen surface of the lake, where mer
were fishing through holes cut in the
ice. Lamplight cleaned from some
of the small windows. At any O,
them he could have food and drink
and bunk for the asking. He spec
ulated upon the possibility of gettine
help. No; If Buffalo Hall wouldn',