The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1940-02-15

either. After all, I know nothing of
what passed between you.'
81 offered to pay him for the Me
rinos he lost" Jarvis informed her.
Autumn turned from the window.
''He didn't accept it, did he?"
What? Why shouldn't he accept
it?" the Laird demanded. Whose
fault was it that he lost them?"
Autumn regarded her father ST.
lently for a moment. SIT was my
fault, d." she said at last. ST adj
nit it. But the score between US
could not be settled-like that"
Perhaps you can suggest the
proper form of settlement, then, !"
Jarvis said scornfully.
I'm not sure that it can ever be
settled" she said.
''It's settled now, then" Jarvis
replied. From this day forth there
will be nothing more between young
Lander and the Deans"
Autumn looked quickly at her IA
Their. did he accept that" she
asked.
81 didn't ask him." the Laird said.
81 told him it would be so-and I
have right to demand compliance
with my wishes, my girl"
Autumn smiled patiently. "You
have always had it, d." she OBJ
served, then turned away and went
to her room.
For the remainder of the day,
Bruce was unable to shake from his
mind the oppressive thought of the
virulent and altogether dispropor-
tomato resentment which the old
Laird bore toward him. He gave it
as little thought as he could, how
ever, and went furiously to work on
the building improvements he had
planned earlier IN the season. With
the help of his foreman, Andrew Gil
ly, he laid out the ground for his
new dipping plant. While he helped
to prepare the ground for excavat-
ing, however, or while he hauled
cedar posts for the framework, his
mind remained heavy with the
knowledge of Jarvis Deans violent
bitterness toward him.
At the end of the day he found
himself on edge with his men and
his work and himself, and in an al
together unadmirable frame of
mind. He hurried through his sup
per with scarcely a word to Gilly,
who sat opposite him. The motion
less heat of the evening droned In
his senses; insects crawled I'D and
down the window screens with tiny,
unpleasant activity; against the vi
olet-tinted rectangle of twilight be-
yond the screen door, he could al
ready see the bats swooping down
in black and noisome parabolas.
When he had finished his meal, he
got up abruptly and with a brief
word or two to Gilly, left the table
and went out of the house.
Half an hour later, he tied his
horse to birch tree near his herd
er's cabin IN the ravine, rubbed the
animals muzzle affectionately, and
gave him lump Of sugar IN re-
spouse to a peremptory whinny.
Within the cabin, Bruce undressed
quickly, threw about himself the old
bathrobe he had brought along, and
with a towel on his arm, emerged
and walked down into the ravine
and UP the creek to where the noun
tain stream narrowed and deepened.
After dip in the cool water and
a brisk toweling, he tied his robe
about him and stood for a moment
listening to the mountain voices that
drew from the sleeps above him,
plaintive, spaced IN piquant inter-
walls, sometimes all but unheard: a
hoot-owPs reproachful enquiry, the
sleepy, last note of a bird dropped
like a soft jewel into the twilight,
the scurry of some small animal into
the underbrush, the sigh of a dying
wind In the tall pines. But the beau
ty and significance Of the night con-
spired against him, tore down the
defensive structure he had erected
about his being. It had all con-
verged suddenly into an intense de-
sire for Autumn Dean.