The Ely miner., 1932-11-11
ZZXZYZYZYZYZZ
Frozen
Stars
X By X
George Marsh
Copyright by Penn Pub. Co.
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CHAPTER I

Copyright by Penn Pub. Co.
(WNU Service)

"Smoke, old chum, there's some
thing adrift out there TO the south"
Ears pricked, the massive black-and-
white husky raised slant eyes to the
speaker.
Jim Stuart watched distant object,
which regularly disappeared, to lift
again on the white crest of the rum
ming seas.
Acts like filed canoe, Smoke. I'm
going to get the glasses"
Crossing the clearing, where the
grass grew thickly among the stumps,
TO the group of white-washed log
buildings of the little fur post, he en-
tered the tradehouse
Looks like capsized canoe out
there, Omar" Stuart said to the broad
backed figure seated cross-legged on the
floor, shaping with a drawknife slab
of birch into a paddle.
The half-breed lifted swart, square
face, scanned with lines, his mouth
widening to a grin, as he said: "Wal,
wat you do? Dis cano' come from
Nor'-Wes' companee; eet ees good
ting, eh?"
You're too bitter, Omar" said the
factor of Sunset House. "We can't
let men drown before our eyes even If
they are from LeBlond's."
Stuart took his service binoculars
from the case and Joined the dog who
waited for him at the door. Crossing
the clearing to the shore, he focused
the glasses on the wind-harried lake.
AS he found the drifting object he
sought, his lips moved in muttered:
MAN hanging to that boatI How long
can he last?"
Jim started on a run for the trade
house. Come on, Omarl There's
some one with that filed canoe. Come
on! Wen take the peterboro
The lined face of the half-breed
stuffened in black frown. 1--WE fill,
too, out derel Tough job-put de
cano' into dat windr"
Stuart laughed as he started for
the shore, followed reluctantly by his
man. what! The best canoeman I
ever saw-afraid of that water?" he
taunted. You sure hate that Le-
Blond outfit! But We'll show this fell
low some paddling!"
Out into the welter of wind-driven
seas went the plunging canoe. For
mile, the logged "churn-swish, churn-
swish" of maple blades fought the
fury of the Southwestern. On they went
for a space, then swung toward the
submerged boat. The canoes were
within short rifle shot Of each other
when Jim saw the dark head beside
the submerged craft move as If to sig
nal the approaching boat.
Hes all right" painted Stuart.
"He'Il hang onl A boy!'
Rails awash, the filled canoe bore
down on the laboring peterboro. AS
the rescuing boat worked closer huge
comber mounded over the wallowing
craft burying the dark head beside
it. Jim dug desperately with his pad
die, fearful Of what the lifting boat
would reveal But as the canoe rose
he saw the head still there, with the
arms circling a thwart.
Good boy!' muttered the bowman.
Closer crept the peterboro. Again
the boat was drowned in a ridge of
black water, topped with foam. Then,
as the dark head appeared, the eyes
of the toiling bowman widened In
amaZement.
"a girlI'
His paddle tore at the water. Over
his shoulder he shouted: "It's girl !"
It was dangerous work-edging the
peterboro alongside a filled boat yaw-
ing in that sea. But Omar Boisvert
was a magician with a paddle, and did
not hesitate. As they reached the
{ canoe the half-drowned girl turned
face gray from exhaustion and the
drenching of the seas, and her blue
lips moved.
While Omar fought to hold his bow
into the wind against the drag of the
yawing canoe, Stuart worked desper-
ately to get the limp body of the girl
into the boat without rolling them un-
der a lifting sea. At last, she was in
the peterboro. and, as ridge of water
broke at the bow, they cleared the
boat and headed for Sunset House.
"A white girl-from LeBlond'si
Short hair, whipcord knickers-who
can she be?" wondered Jim as his stiff
arms drove his paddle. He glanced
over his shoulder al the huddled figure
of his drenched passenger covered by
his coat. "ColdY' he shouted to the
shivering girl. Get down, out of the
windi"
She nodded, with a gallant attempt
at a smile, as he encouraged: "Only
fow Minutes now rs
But two miles of running white
horses" separated the canoe, yawing
In the following sea, from the post, and
the kneeling paddler had his work
cut out.
At length, leaping into the shoal
beach at the post; then lifted the girl,
blue with cold, from the boat
"Can you walk 2" he asked conscious
of the thickness of her drenched, crow
black hair. "Take my arm"
The girls stiff legs, numb from ex-
posure to water and wind, moved un-
certainly. With shrug she raised
black eyes to the man who supported
her. wondering If he dared pick her
up and run to the warm kitchen of
Omar's cabin. II make you-much
trouble" she replied through chatter
ing teeth "You take me-out Of
that wet lake. Now you must-dry
me-"
At the door of her cabin the amazed
Marthe. wife of Omar. met them with
wide and disapproving eyes. Jim