Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1933-11-24

o. IAic pats tI4aS Ae SOuAo icoSA Wy
wire.
When he walked into Mounted head.
quarters the next morning, pile OF
yellow envelopes lay on Baldwins desk.
Baldwin picked up one lying by itself
and handed it glumly to him.
You're an uncanny devil, Tennyson,"
he growled. IF had your luck I'd ba
premier" d"
The telegram came from one of the
starred places, little town called Tai
lscet, at the junction of the Grand
Trunk and the Lilluar River. A thrill
ran through Curt as he read the cleo
tric words:
plane you described landed here :
on afternoon seventeenth stop car
ried pilot and passenger stop left on 70
morning eighteenth stop destination :
unknown"
Within an hour Curt and Smash
were flying north in their ship, heading
for Tellacet
At the Edmonton Hotel Marlin was
surprised II have Smash Desplaine5
breeze in en- him one afternoon three
days later
Hello. Smash! Where's Curt?"
lover in Northern B. c. At little
jerkwater called Tellacet. He sent you
this letter" 4.
Marlin slit the envelope hastily. Good
news this soon? Impossible-even for
Tennyson.
The message was in the nuneral code
the table and began deciphering IL.
The laconic sentences staggered him as
he worked them out
! Dear AK: Baldwin and I picked
| up Karakhan's trail at Vancouver.
A flyer caller Gunnar brought him
north to this place Karakhan then
sent Gunnar out by train and went
on north by himself in the plane. I
suppose he was too cautious to let
anybody know his exact destination.
Il have reason to believe that he's
hiding somewhere in the Lilluar
Mountains. + hundred miles north
of here is a post called Russian Lake, d,
the jImping-of place for the Lii
luars. I intend to go there and try =
to trace him farther. Since nans
in that country would arouse sus-
picion, Smash will stand by here at
Tellacet with the plane, to be on :
hand II needed: and the rest Of the d
York will be done by canoe.
by the way, don't mention Kara =
Than to Smash. He knows I'm :
hunting a man, but 1t isn't wise to :
|. uot llLIIl Will dIly pdI l-Cu.dIo
After he hands you this, he Is
flying over to Athabasca to get Paul
st. Claire and fetch him here. I
need help on this. and Paul is the
only person on earth whom I can
trust absolutely. If this turns out
to be a wilderness hunt, Paul will be
worth ten ordinary men.
so far at least, it was woman.
CURT"
A thousand yards of the north shors
| of Russian Lake. Curt and Paul stopped
| padding few minutes and gazed
ahead at the trading post, looking the
place over before they landed. .
The post lay at the mouth Of the
Lilluar River. big mountain stream
which had its origin 800 miles norths
near the Yukon headwaters. AS far
| CffShore as they were, its tumultuous
current tugged strongly against the
sides of their canoe. Small and unim
portant, the trading station consisted OF
a gaunt frame mission, q whitevashed
Mounted Police cabin and red-roofeq
Hudson Bay store-representing mans
three ancient institutions of religion,
| law, commerce.
Five trapper tents were strung out
down the landwash; several shacks
stood back at the woods edge. and the
leather tepees of dozen Indian fan1i-
lies reached up along the river bank
beyond the mission. =
Curt turned his eyes from the trading
post to the bluehazy distance up the
Lilluar Valley. Lord, what country
PAUL." he unused. The wild spirit of II
awed him. Range after mighty range
marched north out Of sight, all Of them
topped with glaciers and huge snow
! fields their slopes cut by noraines and
avalanche paths and mile-deep canyons.
1t was primordial country, as lonely
| and appalling as anything he had seen
| in the sub-Arctic.
The sun had already slanted down
behind the northwest ranges. In the
mirror, but far-away west mass OF
black thunderheads promised rain-
storm before many hours.
A small group of people. gathered In
| front of the Bay store, were looking at
the canoe and pointing; and several men
had strolled out upon the little pier to
meet 1t. The post was so wilderness
buried tka.t Swo strangers in a boat
caused a big stir.
Paul gave the canoe stroke to keep
it headed straight. II wonder whether
Mam'selle Luck or Dame Malheur is
waiting for US yonder, partner" He
Curt
That's what I'm wondering, Paul
We're walking into big blank question
here We haven't a ghost of an idea
where Karakhan is hiding. He may be
close to this place or two weeks foot
slogging back In that God-forsaken
Strong Woods See those people therea
Well, any Of them may be spy Of his
He's almost got to have a contact man.
Well have to watch every step We
take" :
Paul nodded, scrutinidng the pod
with his sharp eyes. A slender young
metis Of % he belonged to the old fine
clan of Athabascan st. Claires. de-
scendants Of the proud Timber Cree
and the old French explorer-hghter,
| lover and far-wanderer. Born to thu
| Strong-Woods. he was as bush-wise a
pine marten or q timber wolf. Be-
tween him and Curt deep. silent part
nership had grown up during their yeal
Of foot-loose wandering.
Tamerrow, Curt and Paul find . gid