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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1932-05-05, Page 2Thursday, may s, m#THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE “The Silver Hawk JUST RIGHT FOR SPRING WEATHER __2» ___ _ W Extier Established 18713 and 1887 Published every Thursday morninr at Exeter, Qntario SUBSCRIPTION— $2.00 per year advance. BY WILLIAM BYRON MOWERY CHAPTER XXXV “Jim, darling, lie down again, lie very quiet- this dangerous canoe—out on our lake; and let me take you home? Aurore had no suspicion of Darn’s wouldn’t understand, Jim; yon- trouble. His voice, speaking herI reJ-°° tired-—and worn out." name, had been a bombshell to her. j Dorn was insistent now and breaking hex' her and out ed her she felt his hand smoothing bevelled hair and felt his lips on her forehead and his arm around her. ‘Then Aurore heard him speaking to hex'. It was the strange quality in his voice and the still stranger words he said that woke hex* to the truth. “Why did you keep running away from • nxe all afternoon, Aurore? I tried to catch up with you, but I couldn’t. You’d hold your arms to me and then you’d be gone . . . like a ghost . , . like you slipped ’away from Kansas Aurore did not she cried brokenly: I’ve been here—all ing for you------” - But then, when Dorn reepated his questions, she started, and glanced lip quickly and studied his face. Her [hands went up to his cheeks and she half turned hm so that the moonlight shone full on his face. Aurore stood on tiptoe; and brushing away her tears, she looked long and intently gnto Dorn’s eyes. A sudden quiver went through hex* .Whole body as she understood his Strange words about her flirting away from him that afternoon and understood why he was holding her now with an arm so strong it hurt her. !She .cried, in compassion, in panic-stricken anguish: “Jim—Jim—oh, my darling . . ’’ But then Aurore checked her out­ cry and fought down her panic and her emotions, suddenly, and with al the bravery of her nature she struggled to be calm, knowing what had happened to Jim Dorn and realizing that she must taek him into her care. Her voice was terribly quiet, res­ olute: ‘Jim, you’re—you’re sick, ‘darling, You’re tired Jim, and. you must rest. I know.a place where you can sleep and be well again. See Awove's Story For many moments afterwards, the unbearable silence of lonely vigil and exploding all fears that Jim Dorn was dead; the mere sight of him coming of the shadows had overwhelm- She clung to him, sobbing; her dis- that night . . ” yet understand; ‘‘Jim—darling— afternoon—wait- 'She steeled herself RATES-^-Farm or Real Estate fot sale 50o, each insertion for finrt four insertions. 2tic. each subse­ quent insertion. Miscellaneous ar- tiejes, To Rent, Wanted, Lost, or Found 10c, per line of six word*. Reading * notices Card of Thanks vertising 12 and 'Memoriam, with extra verses 25c. tillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllflllMllIllllllIIIIIlIllllllllllIIllllllllltlj? please—won’t you'i was flattered and my head was •In turned ....by having men who own­ ed steamship lines and railroads and were powerful in politics—by having them make offers to foi' me, “But she kept me aloof, see why—now. She knew S'nowdoxj was planning on getting a divorce. She new he .liked me even before his separation. The fault was’t all hers, Jim, iShe did throw 11s together after his divorce, and she swayed me and broke down with sarcasm and contempt those ideals Dad had given me. So far she was guilty, but in the end she left the decision entirely in my hands. I remember* . . . one night she came into my room and told me wlxat Car- ter-Sinowdon had said, and she went out without urging me or saying an­ other “I night, God’s knew I didn’t understand his nature or his outlook, so how could I like him? But that did not seem important then. Jim, my mother had told me and made me believe, that marriage for love was a blind, irrational act'—■ a school girl’s notion; and that sen­ sible people married for more en­ during reasons. “How could I be wrong? There was her and Dad: they other at first, and see how miserable their relations became; -And I’d never been in love, Jim. I could talk about it and read about it and wonder about it, but till it came to me I couldn’t realize what it meant. I was blind—worse than blind"’ For Dorn's sake Aurore had kept her narrative subdued and her voice unimpassiohed. But into her last words, low and trembling, crept a penitence so bitter that it Dorn. He lips. “Yes. I member . . your voice in the darkness, you stood under the torch tent ... I never realized then.” Aurore went on, fighting calm again: “But I was guilty something worse than blindness in my thoughts that night. I yielded to the most sordid kind of thoughts. In my mother’s circle, at girls’ school —all around for -throe years-—I'd heard nothing but ‘good catches’ and ‘prestige’ and ‘marry up and not down.’ Hardly ever a word about affection or lifelong companionship in a sacred relation. Dad’s mem­ ory was very dim amt the moun­ tains were far away, and it seemed I’d left that old life forever and would have to live this new one ac­ cording to its own rules. It was up to me, I reasoned, to make the ‘best catch5 I could. “That night I kept thinking how immensely rich and immensely pow­ erful Carter-Snowdon was, and what my position would be if I married him. The prospect of me off my feet, Jim. worthy thought camo fought it down. My furnished me the weapons, wan’t stand too fragile, called back me in three beat down my own conscience. ‘“The next morning when I into the library he was there ing to Mother, and she left us alone, and he told me he I promised him . Aurora's words whispers and her for many moments, till Dorn’s rest­ less impatience ire'ca'lled her, she was silent. A little- breathlessly, forcing herself to the ugly narrative, she hurried oil: "You -know now wliy married: him—because of his money and pow­ er and position. And I’ll have to tell you why he wanted to manry me, or you never can understand what hap­ pened later and you'd think I was guilty of a great wrong in What I did. His reason wasn't his infatu­ ation for me; he had been infatu­ ated with others. He manried me because I was political capital. It Wa$ a cunning and a deep-sighted political play—his marriage. “There was the tremendous emo­ tional appeal, It was a personal element, all favourable to him, in- jectbd into a political campaign, it was the kind of thing to appeal to common folk everywhere. With them marriage is a thing Of the heart; in their minds it’s all bound up with domance and beauty; and lie knew it -would have infinitely more sway over them than, any platform or dry statement o£ policy. “But his chief reason was my name, I whs always introduced to people as Roger McNain's daughter, and that’s how folk everywhere thought of me, tn his life-time my father was a leader, and powerful; but he never had half the power or ■ not to be turned aside; and Aurore ’ saw, in desperate alarm, that his mood had flared beyond her con­ trolling and that she would have to yield to him. She knew that he was not conscious of his surroundings, but only of herself and of that tor­ ment in his mind. He demanded: “I won’t have another chance to hear. I’ll have to go away. That was the promise between us—for me to go away.” White of face, Aurore desperately was trying to steady the canoe. In her terrible dilemma, with that rear guwnale nearly awash, it was no longer of any moment to her whether Dorn could understand or not. She cried; “Jim, if you’ll lie down again, lie very still and listen, with your head on my lap again, I’ll tell you!" It was only by her promise that slie persuaded him to lie back obed­ iently, His feverish excitement was warning not to resist him; not to deny him what he wanted to know. She divined what it was that would not let him rest; that him, a torment, when cries were veiled or distorted in his mind; dipped her kerchief overboard and laid it, cool and soothing, on his forehead, Aurore was thinking: “If he knew the truth, if I could, only make him understand a little of the story . . . it’s the source and cause of all his—his trouble now, and he’ll never rest-quietly till he does know .... I think it would bring him peace.” The canoe -drifted, but the night revanche running middle of the lake ward its goal. A cranes on a night lands over e-ast winged across the face of the moon, -stretching out theii- long necks Hike broomsticks and gabbling like a flock of witches. On the bosom of the lake deep-diving ducks feeding in ten fathoms mere­ ly swam a few feet away. A pair of wild swans, wariest of all the mig­ rants, circled curiously around the ! ghostly canoe at a short distance, stayed with other mem- fantastically and as she north up the carried it on to- higli-flying V of trip to marsh­ ....... _ < SllvaUj UCLUUC CU Ct OLEJl L UlOLClllt u,.—there’s a canoe I can take you , ui<e two stately and ceremonial -at- TVon't you come—with me?" 1 . . . -She freed herself 'for a. moment, apd-- stooped,, ^nd with'-her finger f traced a message on the sand. Then She took Dorn’s hand and led him to the water’s edge. They floated out upon the lake. Aurore would not let Dorn use the canoe paddle, but took it from his hands and made him lie down with his head on her lap. She could feel the beat of gentle wavelets against the wind-water line of the craft, and her rhythmic strokes ’ pushed canoe steadily onward under moonlight. From time to time she dipped her kerchief over the gun­ wale and bathed Dorn’s forehead. She was infinite tenderness toward him, but firm at the same time—a little mother who scolded him when he stirred restlessly and kissed him when he obeyed her commands. In the subdued light Aurore could not see Dorn’s features distinctly, but she knew he was looking up at her; and whenever the tears started from her eyes, she ‘dashed them away and smiled bravely at him. She thought: “He knows that he is with me again. He isn’t holding me to him now; he’s no longer afraid I’ll—I’ll go away.” She knew that her voice had a certain sway over him that recalled him part-way to reality, and that the mere touch of her hand on his forehead was ma­ gic against the powers of darkness. For a while he seemed content to look up her and be carried on in dreamy peace. But presently he was tossing restlessly, and a little later he spoke to her: “Why didn’t you, Aurore afternoon when you kept away from me . . . Why wouldn’t you stop and answer my question?” Aurore bent low over him. “What question, dear? I didn’t mean to keep running away from you. I’ll never, never again.” “Kansas told me of you marrying Carter-iSinowdon.” His Words came unawares, startl­ ing to Aurore. She gasped—panic- stricken again for a moment; but quickly she was mistress of herself. Her hand crept down and found his; she tried fitliiess. “You darling, now? Some time- ed*—then we can talk of that.” Dorn insisted feverishly: “But no! Kansas’ll have to look after you. remembet I promised to go away?” He sat up imatiently in the frail wobbly canoe, and faced her. it frightened Aurore—his sudden rous­ ing out of quietude. She tried to calm him; she pleaded; the the . . this running to soothe him. into -forget- mustn’t toss that way, Won’t you try to sleep ■after you’re rest- [.tendants upon its progress. «■ For a little while, bending low over him, Aurore asked Dorn ques­ tions, seeking to find out what he could and could not understand. “Do you remember that night, three weeks ago, Jim, when Dad Bergelot brought me across to your tent, and you and I flew north? you remember that, dear?" “Could I forget it?’’ “And your trip to Edmonton your return to me and how we spent that morning exploring our island . . the fax den. the birds nests, our little baby trout, Jim . . . can you remember 'that? And then—it was only yesterday.—when you took me away all day in your plane; and how we lit down in the Bighoirn Looking-Glass and talked for hours? Dorn nodded to all her questions. Aurore was beginning to see that he could understand more than she had thought; .that only the -day just pass­ ing was mercifully blank to him and as non existent as been. And when could understand longer wanted to the story of her marriege, ‘but seiz­ ed upon it with fraytic eagerness as something which would heal him. She said: “Then you remember our talk, Jim, when I told you about my father . . . how ' he watched over me for seventeen year® and I went with him on all his work and we lived in the moutains in itents and cabins and construction shanties. When he died I went down to Vic­ toria and lived with Mother in a big house o na terrace. It was a new, strange life, Jim. I was dazzled by it, and I gradually forgot about the bush and forgot Dad’s training; and at girls’ school I was such a barbar­ ian it made me ashamed Of that eld life. “Mother’s social position-—she was a leader like Dad in all she did— that was entry for me into her circle Instead of having friends like my father and old Luke and the young field engineers who worked for Dae, I came to know men of another typo. They weren’t all like Henry Carter-Snowdon. Ry and. large they were neither better nor worse than the men I’d khown. They were just utterly different—products of their birtli and environment and training, just as you and I are, Jim. You told me once, dear, that I must have had lots of attention from those men. And I did. I was young; I guess I brought a certain freshness or wildness out of the mountains; I had money and the prominence of the McNain name; and naturally when I came back from school . . ♦ Jim, Can and though it had not she saw that he her, Aurore no keep from telling Mother I can iCainter- word. remember my thoughts that Jim. I didn’t like him—in truth, I didn’t, I hardly him. He was so much older, sure she was the example of had liked each raised her hand can understand. . when I first roused to his 1“ re­ heard when in my until to be of tli at—swept Whenever a to me, I motherj had Ideals they’re night I told it to sarcasm, Jim; During that everything she’d* years, and used went talk- loved me and I— trailed off into voice broke, and I! rndt^r With hot milk on cold mornings-“With milk or cream on mild mornings. Made in Canada with Canadian Wheat THE CANADIAN SHREDDED WHEAT COMPANY, LTD. 1 r.„. ..-ri. '.vm*-1...‘ . u -‘.i ,. . .. .y , r- the following then that he had af-1 ter his death, when people began to I understand what he’d been fighting! for. His name has tremendous power; it’s come to be the rallying cry of the reform party—-of all Car­ ter-Snowdon’s enemies. Think of him marrying into their camp! Think how common folk everywhei’e would see our two names linked, and what the effect on them would be! We were married in Prince pert. Secretly. He had told that with this campaign on hands he could not spare time for all the lengthy social obligations that our marriage called for. But I saw later that this reason which he gave me was a lie. He knew his political enemies were going to use my father’s policies as their platform. He wanted them to; lie schemed to let their campaign get fully under way, •to be irrevocable; and then—when they had committed themselves and could not draw back—then he would announce that he had married Ro­ ger MlcNain’s daughter, and blast their plans, and make his enemies appear ridiculous! That’s marriage was secret. “Just after the wedding ed across for Edmonton, that morning, during iour talk, that I got. a glimpse into his nature. Something had come over him—some change; and it set me to wondering, it made me uneasy. I understand now—he was -sure of me and din’t have to dissemble any longer. That’s why he changed. He was tired of acting a part to please a silly girl. “I was appalled by his mercenary "outlook. The forests we passed through—he thought of them only as so much timber to be- graded, and cut and marketed, and of mountains as big heaps of ore to’" be mined, and of wild creatures as things to' be shot for his sport when he was vacationing at one of his hunting, lodges. “That glimpse of his soul, of the man I was married to . . . But, Jim, it was nothing, it was only the faint beginning of what happened later and of the horror that grew on me' all. that day. We were travel­ ling incognito; but just east of Ha­ zelton, a rancher from down Chil- cotin way—he must have been and- recognized Canter-lSnowdon — this man came into .out coach. He was a man in his forties, big and power­ ful and wearing a gun; I saw the bulge of it against his breast. He didn’t recognize me. He must have thought I was Carter-Snowdon’s—he didn’t know I was married, for he pointed his finger -at me and he said to me in terrible contempt: “So you’ve taken the place that my girl had with him last summer! I’m go­ ing over to Winnipeg now, miss, to tell her she can come .home.’ Then he turned on Carter-Snowdon. I never in my life, Jim, heard such slow, deadly words—like -bullets dropping on a pan. The last thing he said was, ‘I’ve got a wife- and two boys; that’s why—-and he touched his breast pocket—‘that’s why not killing you!” (Continued next week) R li­ me his why our we start­ it was first real I’m 10c. per Htif< 50c. Legal ad- 8c. per line. lat one verse 50e. each. Member of The Canadian Weekly Newspaper Association ; T v vvwbbi l ZURICH I 'Mrs, Wm. Reith is spending a week with her parents at Alvinston. Mr. and Mrs, Sam Gascho and family, of Harriston, were Sunday visitors in town. . ‘ Mr. Arthur Ti'uemner and two sons, of Toronto, visited in town over Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Wm, Brown, Misses Gertrude Weber and Ines; Yungblu-t were Sunday visitors at Kitchener. Mr. and Mrs. Len Ha'ist, of De­ troit, were week-end visitors with the latter’s parents, Mr, and M{rs. Os­ car Klopp. Mr. and Mrs. John Meyer and IMIr. and Mrs. Jacob Meyer, of Kitchen­ er, were visitors with friends here on Sunday. Mrs. B. Pflle uhu daugntei* Pearl, Mr. and Mrs. Garnet Jaco.be and son Laird and little Romaine Geiger were week-end visitors, with friends in Listowel. Mr. Ed. Wurm, of Max'kiand, visit­ ed recently at the home of his sister Mr. and Mrs. Jul. Block. Mr. Garfield Witmore has return­ ed from Kitchener. He was accom­ panied by his sister Miss'Leila and cousin, Charles Witmore,\ of Kit­ chener, who spent the week-end at the home of- Mr. and iM;rs. S. Wit- more. Mr. and Mrs. A. F. Hess and three sons, Mr. and Mrs. Geo. Hess and Mr. and Mrs. E. F. Klopp motored to South Bend, Ind., where they at­ tended the funeral of the late Q, N. McTaggart of that place. Professional Cards GLADMAN & STANBURY BARRISTERS, SOLICITORS, &c. Money to Loan, Investments Made Insurance Safe-deposit Vault for use of our Clients without "Charge EXETER LONDON HENSALE CARLING & MORLEY. BARRISTERS, SOLICITORS, &e LOANS, INVESTMENTS INSURANCE Office: Carling Block, Main Street? EXETER, ONT., At Lucan Monday and Thursday Dr. G. S, Atkinson, L.D.S.,D.D.S» DENTAL SURGEON Office opposite the New Post Office Main St., Exeter Telephones Office 31 vv House S4J Closed Wednesday Afternoon Dr. G. F. Roulston, L.D.S.,D.D.S. DENTIST Office: Carling Block EXETER, ONT. Closed Wednesday Afternoon HARD ON THE PURSE DR. E. S. STEINER VETERINARY SURGEON Graduate of the Ontario Veterinary College DAY AND NIGHT CALLS PROMPTLY ATTENDED Ta- Office in the old McDonell Barn Behind Jones & May’s Store EXETER, ONT. JOHN WARD chiropractic, osteopathy, ELECTRO-THERAPY A ULTRA­ VIOLET TREATMENTS PHONE 70 MAIN ST., EXETER ARTHUR WEBER LICENSED AUCTIONEER For Huron and Middlesex ' FARM SALES A SPECIALTY PRICES REASONABLE SATISFACTION GUARANTEED <*-..J?hone 57-13 Dashwood R. R^O.U^ DASHWOOD APPLICANT FOR MOVIES LITTLE BOY KILLED Running out into the road before there was a chance of saving him Wallace Nickel, age 5, youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Nickel, of Stratford, was almost -instantly kill­ ed when struck down by a heavy truck last week. The truck was driven by W. J. Clark, Of Goderich, and he was accompanied by the owner- of the truck, W. G. Lumley, of Goderich. The driver was re­ leased to appear as witness at the inquest, I Norway Pino Syrup i I i ’’Young lady have you filled out your form?” DM Neglected a Cold ' \ On Her Chest Mrs. R, Jewsbury, 1122 View 6t, Victoria, p.O.J writes.'—-“I had Buffered, for several months, with 4 cold on my chest. I neglected it for some time thinking* wdula pass off, but it got Worse. All tne remedies I. tried proved futile uh til I became alarmed. One day my husband Went to the druggist and told him that everything I had tried did hot help tile in any way. He recommended Dr. Wood’s Norway Pine Syrup, and before I had finished the first bottle I Wai relieved.” • Price 35c. a bottle; large family site G5c.. at all drug and general Stored; put up only by The Milburn Co., Ltd./Toronto., Oilt. FRANK TAYLOR ' LICENSED AUCTIONEER For Huron and Middlesex FARM SALES A SPECIALTY Prices Reasonable and Satisfaction* Guaranteed EXETER P. O. or RING 138 OSCAR KLOPP LICENSED AUCTIONEER Honor Graduate Carey Jones’ Auc­ tion School. Special Course takett. in Registered Live Stock (all breeds)? Merchandise, Real Estate, Farm Sales, Etc. Rates in keeping with, prevailing prices. Satisfaction as­ sured, write Oscar Klopp, Zurich, er phone 18-93, Zurich, Ont. ERNEST ELLIOT investments; INSURANCE Office—Main Street, Exeter, Ontario- CONSULTING ENGINEER S. W- Archibald, B.A.Sc., (Toron­ to), O.L.&, Rgistered Professional Engineer and Land Surveyor. Victor Building, 288^ Dundas Street, Lon- ■ don, Ontario, Telephone: Metcalf 2801W< “They’re fighting ’cause Bill said Alt’s wife was cock-eyed.” “But Alt's a bachelor, ain’t he?’* “Yeh, hut the principle is wot made Alt. wild?'