The URL can be used to link to this page

Home My WebLink AboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1937-03-04, Page 6PAGE SIX THE WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thursday, March 4th, 1937 ’th. Man.PAS SYNOPSIS: Ellen Mackay, on bar way from School at Winnipeg, to join her father at Fort Edson, misses the "boat by which she was to travel. Hearing that another boat is to start north in the morning, Ellen goes to the owner, John Benham, and begs him to give her a passage. To her surprise he flatly refuses. Angry and puzzled, Ellen tells Pat McClatchney, a kindly old storekeep er of her difficulty, and Fat with the help of one of Benham’s crew, suc ceeds in getting Ellen on board as a stowaway. When the vessel i.s well under way Ellen emerges from her hiding place and faces John Benham, who now cannot help taking her with him. During the voyage Ellen begins to be strongly attracted, by John, But when she reaches Fort Edson she finds her father broken, ill and dis graced, and learns that his troubles are due to one man—John Benham. Instantly Ellen resolves that she Will fight for her father. She will re instate him with the Hudson Bay Company, his employers, and will show up John Benham for what he really is. From Bernard Deteroux, an em ployee of the company, who profess es friendship for her, father, Ellen bears that Benham supplies whiskey to the Lndians. She sets out on a long and tedious journey to obtain proof of this, returns thinking she has •got it, and gives information to the authorities. Ellen rose to her feet also. “That need not worry you, Trooper Whit low,” she stated quietly. “I had al ready made up my mind to return im mediately. I will be ready to leave in an hour.” Angus Mackay began to objecc. "But you are weary, lass. You—’’ “I am not nearly as weary as I was,” broke in Ellen with a queer smile. “In an hour, trooper.” There was a vast difference in the trip back to Mink Lake for Ellen. Coming out, she had travelled through a drab, lowering world, in ■which not one iota of worthiness existed. She had heard nothing, seen less. Her spirits had plumbed the depths and remained there. It seemed there was no brightness, no beauty, no truth in all the universe. Now, however, it was different. The sheen of sunlit water, the whis pering incense of the forest, the gay laughter of the birds, all were res ponded to in kind by a thrilling, in ner consciousness. Ellen made no further attempt to blind herself to the reason for this change. She knew, and found warm joy in the finding. Ellen Mackay was honest with herself. John Benham was not a half-breed! This knowledge rang through her mind like the chiming of some bril liant tongued bell. Over and over the words rhymed, and she clung to them as to something precious and indis soluble. There was a reason for this and that reason, too, Ellen admitted to herself. She loved John Benham. She loved him through the ages it seemed. From the first time he had bent those clear, flawless eyes upon her he had taken her heart though she had not realized it until he had turned away from het in the Indian camp and crashed the damning whiskey 'bottle against a tree. i . George Lossing, 59, farmer of Fort Rowan, Ont,, wahts a wife but he is too busy to go courting and advertis ed for a wife. He received some an swers and says he Is well pleased with the result. The pictures show: (1) George in his home after a hard day’s work. (2) The frame house to which he intends to take the bride he chooses. Then She had known, and the know ledge had exacted a bitterness of thought and feeling that had borne down upon her with a crushing, re sisting weight. It mattered not, now, that she was responsible for the information that had set thu cold, brusque man in the bow of the canoe on Benham’s trail, If he were guilty, then she would bat tle side by side with him to do what she could to brighten whatever exact ness the law might impose. If he could, by some Divine aid, prove his innocence, then she must also be there beside him and ask forgiveness for her part in his accusation, She never thought that her utter change in spirit might be noted by Trooper Whitlow. But he had noted it, and knew that it dated from that moment when he had told of Johns’ parents. There were times, now, as he sensed the burbling spirits of the girl, when just the shadow of a grim smile flickered across his eyes. In the stern of the canoe, stoic and still of feature, old Moosac look ed at her with steady, undying, dog like adoration. “Where did you get this whiskey?” snapped the trooper. For two days they pressed north ward towards Mink Lake, and the trooper and Moosac paddled from be fore dawn until long after dark. Their camps were swiftly and frugally pre pared. The policeman and the old In dian ate quickly, and sought their blankets to combat the weariness of their ceaseless paddling. So it was that Ellen had long hours to herself through the day and beside the tiny, fire at night in which to think. There were times when these thoughts frightened her, and where, at the start of the trip, she had been consumed with eagerness, now her heart would fail her and she dreaded the moment when she must again face John Benham and steel herself to the scorn and reproach his glance would hold. And then, on the morning of the third day, there came an interruption in their steady progress. At a sharp turn of the river they met four heavily-laden York boats, manned by a motley crew of half breeds and Yellowknife Indians. Trooper Whitlow studied the boats and cargoes keenly and suddenly, just as the last boat was about to pass them he signalled Moosac, and whirl ed the canoe about in pursuit. At first the boat crews bent to the oars frantically, but when the feath- er-like canoe overhauled them, they ceased rowing and crouched, back, sul len and angry, Whitlow guided the canoe to the rear boat and stepped aboard with hardly a look at the crew he flung back the tarpaulin covering the cargo to disclose several small oaken kegs and numerous cases of bottles. Catching up one of the bottles, he smashed it across the gunwale of the boat and sniffed the shattered rem nant he held in his hand. Then he turned on the crew sternly. “Where did you get this whiskey?” he demanded, his voice harsh and un compromising. Ellen crouched in her canoe, her eyes wide, her heart thundering in her breast. Moosac’s beady orbs were gleaming in ferocious joy. “Hurry up,” snapped the trooper again. “Where did you get this whis key?” The crew squirmed in their seats and bent a common gaze upon a sur- ly-looking 'breed member. This in dividual cleared his throat several times before his spirit broke under the boring scrutiny of the policeman. “Dat whiskee — she’s John Ben ham’s whiskce,” he stuttered finally. Ellen, who had been leaning for ward, tense and breathless, sagged back, shaking and heart-sick. Som thing seemed to have snapped inside her. She knew now that all along she had been hoping against hope, that John Benham was innocent. But here was proof irrefutable. Then she straightened again. Whit low was speaking, and his words brought precious comfort. “I think you are lying,” snapped the Trooper. Then old Moosac stirred. “I know for sure that he lies,” stated the old Indian calmly in his mother tongue. “That man is Deteroux’s man. I have seen them often together. Yes—he lies.” “What’s that?” Whitlow turned on Moosac sharply. “Speak English. I don’t understand you.” “He says—he says that man is Ber nard Deteroux’s man,” interpreted El len, scarcely able to speak for the sudden tumult which broke within her. “Is that true?” growled Whitlow, whirling back on the ’breed. “Tell me the truck, or you’ll answer to the law. Speak up.” The breed paled visibly. But his sullen features grew obstinate. Whit low stepped closer to him, his fing ers working, "Speak up,” he growled. “Answer me or I'll mishandle you.” Plainly the ’breed was torn between two. fears—one of his master, should he speak, the other of this cold-eyed member of a force that even the most ignorant savage in the north knew was infallible and all-powerful. It was the fact that one threat was present while the other was absent which decided him, He gave a grudg ing nod. “Oui-oui, M’sieu. I am Deteroux’s man.” “Ah|” Whitlow straightened and found time to flash a triumphant glance at Ellen. Then he turned back on the breed again, “Where are you taking this whis key?” “Down to dat Great Slave Lake,” muttered the ’breed. “M’sieu Deter oux, she’s meet us then, an’ she’s head for dat Yellowknife Revair.” Whitlow nodded. “Land this boat on the beach and have the rest fol low suit,”'lie commanded crisply. Guttural orders followed, and the York boats beached side by side. With deft sureness Whitlow examin ed the cargoes, Only one boat con tained whiskey. The other three were loaded with baled furs. Whitlow nodded .xs though some unspoken conjecture had found substantiation. He pointed at the whiskey. “In the river with it,” he command ed. “Every drop.” The now thoroughly frightened and subdued ’breed went to work' with a will. The bottles were smashed ov er the gunwale, and the heads of the kegs were pounded in with a hachet and their contents poured into the racing green water. The sweet, strong odour of raw alcohol cut through the air. When the last drop of the stuff was gone, and the headless kegs dancing down stream, Whitlow turn ed to Ellen. His face was glowing, glowing with the vindication of a friend. “You see where your evidence points now, Miss Mackay?” Ellen nodded soberly, but her eyes were brilliant. “You can’t guess how happy it makes me,” she answered. Whitlow grinned broadly. “I can guess better than you think. There —there, don’t blush' so. But you owe John Benham a real apology.” Ellen’s gaze was unwavering. “I intend to give it—fully.” “Fine. I knew Benham was clean stuff. But Deteroux, he’ll answer, and answer plenty. I promise that. He’s been playing a deep game. Under the guise of a Hudson Bay employee he has been robbing the men who trust ed him. “Thinking of it now, it was sim ple enough. His job was to come and go. He had legitimate access to every lake and river in the Domin ion, and no one would question his cargoes except on a long chance like this which he was prepared to gam ble on. “He knew the weakness of the In dians. He traded his whiskey to them for their choicest furs. The poorest of the lot he left them to get what they could from your father at Fort Edson. “And—and I have heard of your fa ther’s dilemma. This evidence will no doubt give him complete exoneration. I’ll see that my version of it gets to Hudson, Bay Headquarters.” “You are very kind,” murmured El len. “It—it means so much to father.” “I know,” nodded Whitlow. "But Deteroux—the filthy swine 1 What a rotten game he’s been playing. And he knew the poor devils of Indians would not dare breathe a word of this nefarious trade, in fear of -what the law might do to them, The reputa tion of my organization does not al ways work as it should, Miss Mac kay. Well, this much is settled.” He was thoughtful for a moment. Then he >.urned with sparkling eyes. “I’m going to send this shipment of furs directly to Fort Edson. Your father can grade them and put down a blanket credit on the books. Then it will be up to him and yourself to see that these starving tribes you’ve visited are carried through the com ing wiriter with food and. proper su- plies. These suplies can be charged against the fur credit. “And no doubt there are Other tribes that Deteroux has not been able to reach yet. When he fails to show up they will come slinking in to the fort with their furs. They will .not dare wait too long. What do'you think of the scheme?” (Continued next Week) Business and Professional Directory Wellington Mutual Fire Insurance Co. Established 1-840. Risks taken on all classes of insur ance at reasonable rates. Head Office, Guelph, Ont. ABNER COSENS, Agent. Wingham. Dr. W, A. McKibbon, B.A. PHYSICIAN And SURGEON Located at the Office of the Late Dr, H. W. Colborne. Office Phone 54. Nights 107 HARRY FRYFOGLE Licensed Embalmer and Funeral Director Furniture and Funeral Service Ambulance Service. Phones: Day 117. Night 109. DR. R. L. STEWART PHYSICIAN Telephone 29. | J. W. BUSHFIELD Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc. Money to Loan. Office — Meyer Block, Wingham Successor to Dudley Holmes. THOMAS FELLS AUCTIONEER REAL ESTATE SOLD A Thorough knowledge of Farm Stock. Phone 231, Wingham. Dr. Robt. C. REDMOND M.R.C.S. (England) j L.R.C.P. (Loncjon) | PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON r J. H. CRAWFORD Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc. Successor to R. Vanstone. Wingham Ontario It Will Pay You to Have An EXPERT AUCTIONEER to conduct your sale. See T. R. BENNETT At The Royal Service Station. Phone 174W. DR. W. M. CONNELL PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Phone 19. R. S. HETHERINGTON BARRISTER and SOLICITOR Office —- Morton Block. | Telephone No. 66 J. ALVIN FOX • Licensed Drugless Practitioner CHIROPRACTIC - DRUGLESS THERAPY - RADIONIC EQUIPMENT Hours by Appointment. Phone 191. Wingham w. A. CRAWFORD, M.D. Physician and Surgeon | Located at the office of the late I Dr. J. P. Kennedy. Phone 150- Wingham 1 F. A. PARKER 1 OSTEOPATH a All Diseases Treated. I Office adjoining residence next to i Anglican Church on Centre St. 8 Sunday by appointment. 1 Osteopathy ^.Electricity | Phone 272, Hours, 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. A. R. & F. E. DUVAL CHIROPRACTORS CHIROPRACTIC and ELECTRO THERAPY North Street — Wingham Telephone 300. • hand. Egg Croquettes 2 cups chopped eggs, hard-cooked 1 cup thick white sauce • % teaspoon salt % teaspoon pepper Dash of cayenne Egg and crumbs Eggs should be chopped fine, moistened with sauce as soft as can be handled, and seasoned. Let chill thoroughly on flat dish, well butter ed, then divide evenly into portions, allowing two tablespoons for each croquette. Shape into balls, cylind ers, cones, or any desired shape. Roll in crumbs, dip in egg, again in crumbs and fry in deep fat till light brown in color. Drain on soft paper. Serve with a sauce. Ham Croquettes 2 cups mashed potatoes 1 tablespoon butter 3 egg-yolks 1 cup cooked ham Cayenne Egg and crumbs Mix potato, butter, yolks of two eggs and cayenne, beat until smooth, then set to cool. Chop the ham, mix with the other yolk, set on the stove for a moment, then turn out to cool. When thoroughly cool, take a table spoon of the potato mixture, make a hole in it, put a large teaspoon of the chopped ham inside, close the hole and shape into a ball. Dip in flour,, then in egg, roll in crumbs and fry i'n deep fat. “I understand that you are looking for a new maid ” “Yes, our last one handled China like Japan.” With a pair of skates slung over her arin»a young woman entered a crowded street car. A man rose to give her his seat. “Thank you,” she said, “but I have been skating all afternoon.” CECILE LIKES THE SNOW EGG AND HAM CROQUETTES By Betty Barclay Add croquettes to your dinner and | you compliment your guests. There I are many kinds of croquettes, but I those calling for ham or eggs are easily prepared by the housewife who appreciates serving an unusual dish made from ingredients already on Cecile, one of the famous Dionne (playground at Callander^ While a i for snow. At the moment she is im* quintuplets, in a joyous mood as she sand pail might be considered a sum-[bating a cheer leader, plays in the snow of the hospital met toy, Cecile finds It just a» useful*