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The Wingham Advance Times, 1926-01-21, Page 6USIN S CARD LT, 'ON. MUTUAL IRI 'ORANOU CO, stahlished etlea. Head Office, Guelph, Ont., Rieks taken on all classes of ineur- ce at reaeonable rates. DNEI COSENS, Agent, Winfillarn • . J. *. 110DD . Office in Chisholm Block ?IRF WYE, ACCIDENT AND HEALTH INSURANCE — AND REAL ESTATE .14, 0, Box 360. Phone 240 NGHAM, - ONTARIO DUDLEY HOLMES BARRISTER, SOLICITOR, ETC. ictory and Other Bonds Bought and sold. Office—Meyer Block, Wingharn VANSTO E R:RISTER, SOLICITOR, ETC, oney to Loan at Lowest Rates Wingham, - Ontario J. A. MORTON BARRISTER, ETC. Wingham, - Ontario DR. G IIL OSS Graduate Royal College of Dental . Surgeons Graduate University of Toronto Faculty of Dentistry Office Over H. E. Isarchs Store. W. R. A B.S., 1VI.D., C.M. ecial attention paid to diseases of orrien and. Children, haviog taken ostgracluate work in Surgery, Bact- riology arid Scieutific Medicine. Office in the Kerr Residence, be- een the Queen's Rotel and the Bap - Church. 11 business giv' en card& attention. hone. 54. P. O. Box n3. r. Robit. C. Re ond M.R.C.S. (E,ng.) L.R.C.P. (Lon) PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Dr. Chisholm's old stand. The rtdia DR. R. L. STEW T Graduate of University of Toronto, Facultyeof Medicine; Licentiate of the OsatareheCollege of Physicians and. SolegAons. Office in Chisholm Block Josephine Street. Phone oe. r. Margaret C. C der General Practitioner Graduate 'University of Toronto Faculty of Medicina ' lffice—yesepliine St., two doors south of Brunswick Hotel. . elephones: Office 28x, Residence es. F. A. PARKER OSTEOPATH All Diseases Treated Office aclioining residen* next to nglican Church on Centre Street. Sundays by appointment Hours—'9 a. in. to 8 p. rn. Osteopathy, - Electricity Telephone 272. F. E. DUVAL I.-IIROPRACTIC SPECIALISTS Members C. A. 0. Graduates of Canadian Chiroprac- c College, Toronto. Office in Craw- ford Block, four doors north of Post Office. elltnirs 2 to 5; 7 to 8.5o p. no and by appoi\ittnents. Special appointments Made for those coming ally distance. Out of town and night calls re- enonded to.. Phones: --Office, soo, Residence xe on doe, • . ALVIN FOX IROPEACTIC OSTEOPATHY ELECTRO—TI-IEVAPY Hours xo-la, 2-5. 71, Telephone ;tot • D.' fit. eINNES CHIROPRACTOR • IVLASSEUR Adjuetments given for disease e of 11 kinds, specialite in dealing with idren. Lady atte.adant. Night Calls ponded to. ifiet On Scott St, Illfinghatta, Onto ti e house. a the late Jos, Wa.lker. Telephone tgb. dee , itotlitt 2 L WALKER 'JRXPURI DEALER tNRAL and OIRECTOR Ilifnennt OttrAltt Illustrations by IRFVIN MYERS plaidithazionumenarammunaremateamemn Copyright by Edwio. So -hoer • fore, risk taking a handbag from the house; so she thrust nigbtdress and toilet articles into tier muff and the roomy pocket a her fur coat. She de- scended to the side door of the leouee, gained the street andturned west- ward at the first corner to a street car which would take her to the rail- way station. The manner of bueing a railway ticket and of engaging a berth were unknown to her—there had been serv- ants alWays, to do these things—but she watched ethers and did as they did. She procured a telegraph blank - and wrote a message to her mother, telling her that she had gone north to join her father. When the Oahe had started, she gave the message to the porter, directing him •to soul it from the first large town at which they stopped. Constance could not, as yet, place Henry's. part in the strange circum- stances which had begun to reveal themselves with Alan's coming to Chi- cago; but Rotary's hope that Uncle Benny and Alan were deati was begin-- ning to make that clearer. She lay without voluntary movement in her berth, but her bosoen was shaking with the thoughts which came to her. Twenty years before, some dreadful event had altered Uncle Benny's life; his wife had known—or had learned— enough of that event so that she had left him. It had seemed to Constance and her father, therefore, that it must have been some intimate and private event 'Uncle Benny had withdrawn him- self from men; he had ceased to be active in his business and delegated it to others. This change had been strangly advantageous to Henry.. Henry had been liardly more than a common seaman then. • He had been a mate—the mate on one of 'Uncle Beta- ny's ships. Quite suddenly he had become Uncle Benny's partner. Henry had explained this to her by saying that Uncle Benny had not trusted Henry; he bad been suspicious of him; he had quarreled with him. How strange, then, that Uncle Benny should have advanced and given way to a man whom he conld not trust! Uncle Benny had come to her and warned her not to marry Henry; then he had sent for Alan. There had been purpose in these acts of Uncle Ben- ; bad they meant that Uncle Ben- ny had been on the verge of making explanatlon—that explanntion which Henry feared—and that he had been --prevented? Her father had thought this; at least, he had thought that 'Uncle Benny must have left some ex- planation in his house. He had told Alanthat, and bad given Alan the key to the house so that he could find it Alan had gone to theohouse— In the house Alan had found some- one who had mistaken him for a ghost, a man who had cried out at sight of him something about a ship— about the ellwak.a, the ship of whose Toss no one had known anything ex- cept by the soundings of the Drum. What had the mus been doine in the house? Had he too been looking for the explanation -the explanation that Henry feared? Alan had described the man to her; that description had not had meaning for her before; but now remembering that description she could think of Henry as the only one who could have been In that house! Henry had fought with Alan there• ! Afterwards. when Alan hurl been at- tacked upon the street, had Henry anything to do with that? Henry had lied to her about being Dtenth the Mete- he had 'fouelit r, with Alen; he bed not told her the true cause of his quarrels with Uncle Benny; he had wished her to believe that Uncle Benny was dead when the wedding ring and watch came to her— the Watch which had been Captain Stafford's of the ellwaka Ilenry had urged her te marry him at once. Wes that betattse be wished the security that her fitther—and elle—must give her husband when they learned the revelation which Alan or Uncle Ben- ny might bring? At Petoskey she went from the train directly to the telegraph office. If Henry was • in Petoskey, they would know la that office wbere he could be found; be would he keeping In' touch with them. Ma Spearman, the operator said, had been at the oilire eerie in the thy; there had been TM message for him; • he had left Instructione that any ethieh came were to be forvearile,d him through the Men Who, under hie direction, were patrolling the shore •for twenty miles north of Little Trav. erse, watching for boats. Conetance crossed the frMen edges of the bay be Sledge to Hatter Point. Hee distruet now had deep, erted to terrible dread„ She had not .en able before title te ferna any deft-, , idea of bow Henry eSteld threat-,, W/NGHAM ADVANCE-7TM ktIld UtIVIO only ; she had esened only vague interference and • eemetiopef the Search for them; ec end not foreseen that he eould so rfo fitly essume charge of the search 4111(1 airect, or .misdireet, Ai the Point sbe discharged the .44W -re> and went ma foot to the house f the ceretalter who had elearge of ele eherrill cottage during the winter, ree.ing the keye from him, she, let herself into the house, Going to her reotn, she unpecked a heavy sweater and woolen cap and short fur coat— wmter things which were left there agalest use when • they opened the house sometimes out of eeason—and •inn then) on. Then she went down end found her snowshoes. Stopping +11, the telephone, she called long dis- • melee and asked them to locate Mr. Sete:111, if possible, and instruct him to move south along the shore with whomever he had with him. She went out then, and fasteped on leer snow - Aloes. Cnnstance hurried • westward and een north, following the bend of the shore. The figure of a man—ono of the shore patrols—pacing the ice hun- =ks of the beach and staring oat aeon the lake, appeared vagttely in the dusk when sbe had gone about two miles. • She came, three quarters of a mile farther on, to a second man; about an equal distance beyond she found a third, but passed him and went on. • Her legs ached now with the nano- 2ustomed travel upon snowshoes; the zone which had been only a piercing 211111 at first, was stopping feeling, al - nest stoppiug thought. • She was hoxe Oiled to find that she was growing weak and that her senses were beeom- ng eonfused. She had come, in all, perhaps eight miles; and she was 'playing out." She descended to the peach again and went on; her gaze !ontinued to search the lake, but now, wherever there was a break in the aluffs, she looked toward the shore as well. At the third of these breaks, :he yellow glow of a window appeared, narking a house in a hollow between inow-shrouded hills. She turned ea- gerly that way; she could go only eery slowly now. There was no path; it least, if there was, the snow drifts eid it. She struggled to the door and 'Who's Here?" She Cried. "Who's • Here?" knocked upon it, and receiving no re- ply, she beat upon it with both fiets. "Who's here?" she cried. "Who's here?" The door opened then a very little, and the frightened face of an Indian women appeared in the crack. The woman evidently .had expected—and feared—some arrival, and was reas- sured when she saw only a girl. She threw the door wider open, and bent to help unfasten Constance's ;emits. - shoes; having done that, she led her in and closed the door. • "Where is your man?" Constance had caught the woman's arm, • "They sent him to the beach. A ship has sunk." "Are there houses near here? You must run to one of them at once. Bring whoever you can get; or if you won't do that, tell me where to go." Tbe woman stared at her stolidly and moved *away. "None near," she said. "Besides, you could not get somebody before aortae one will come." • "Who is that?" "Be es on the beach—Henry Spear- man. He comes here to warm him- self. It is nearly time he conies again." • Coestance gazed at her; the woman was plainly glad of her cotaing. Her relief—relief from that fear she had been feeling when she opened the door —was very efident It was Henry, then, who had frightened her. The Indian woman set a chair for her beside the stove, and put water in a pan to heat; she shook tea leaves from a box into a bowl and brought a cup, • "How many on that shier" "Altogether, there were thirty- nine," Constanee replied. "Seven are living then." "Seven? What have you heard? What Makes yOU think so?" • "That is„what the Drum saes." The Drum! There was a Drum then! At least there Was some Sound whieb people heard and wIdch they ealled the Ditto. Por the WOMati had heard it. Constatee grew stuldettly 001d, leer twenty 'lees, the wereatt said, the Drum had heat; that Meant to her, and to Constance too nowthat acme% IMPRPRORP1 were left, Indefinite, aesp • te denno that all 'front the fe1.ry must be deed—. that denial which bad be strength. ened by the news that at least one boat bad been adrift near Beaver— altered in Constance to conviction of a boat with seven men from the ferry, seven dying, perhaps, but not yet dead. Seven out of tvventy-severte The score were gone: the brunt lied beat for them in little groups as they dled. When the Drum beat again, would it beat beyond thetacore? Having finished the tea, Constance returned to the door and reopened it; the soueds outside were the same. A solitary figure appeared panving along the edge of the ice—the figure of a tall man, walking on1 snowsboes; moonlight distorted the figure, end it was muffled, too, in a great coat which made it unrecognizable. He !tatted and etoocl looking met at the !tete anti theta with a sudden movement, etroch on; be halted again, and now On. stance got the keowleelge lime he v»„ not looting; he was listening ge„shk was. "Is the Drum sounding now?” sin • asked the woman. eetene, Constance gazed again at the man and found his motion quite unmistak- able; he was counting—If not counting somethipg that he heard. or thouget he heard, he was recounting and review- ing within himself something that hi - had heard before --some irregular rhythm which had become so much re • part of him thee it sounded now con- tinually within his own brain; so that. instinctively, he moved in cadence to It. He stepped forward again/now, and turned toward the house. • Her breath caught as she spoke to the woman. "Mr. Spearman is cominp here now!" • Her impulse was to remain where she was, lest he should think she was afraid of hum, but realization gene to her that there might be advantage in seeing him before he knew that she was there, so she reclosed the door and drew back into tbe cabin. • CHAPTER XIX The Sounding of the Drum. Noises of the wind and the roaring of the lake made inaudible any shund of his approach to the cabin; she heard his snowshoes, however, scrape the cabin wall as, after taking them off, he leaned them beside the door. Be thrust the door open then and came in; he did not see her at first and, as he turned to force the door shut again against the wind she watched hitt quietly. • He saw her now and started and, as though sight of her confused him, he looked from the woman and then back to Constance before he seemed certain of her. "Hello!" he said tentatively. "Hel- .. lot" "I'xn here, Henry."• e "Oh; you are! You arih" He stood drawn up, swaying a little as he stared at her; whisky was uponhis breath, and it bectune evident in the heat of the room; but whisky could not account for this condition she wit- nessed be hire. Neither could it con- ceal that condition; some turmoil and strain within him made him immune to its effects. She had realized on her eetty up here what, vaguely, that strain within him must be. Guilt—guilt of some awful sort connected him, and had connected leaele Benny, with tbe ellwaka.—the Guilt Was in His Thought lelow-enack- ing, Tearing at Him. Inst ship for which the Drum had kenten the roll of the dead. Guilt was In his thought now—racking, tearing at him. But there was something more then' that; wbat she had seen ixt him when he first caught sight of her was feae—fonr of her, of Constance Sherrill. "You camo uric here about Ben Cor - ea?" he challenged. . "Yese-no ."Which do you mean?" eve . "I know, then. 'For him, then—eh For him?" "Vol* Alan Conrad? Yes," she said. ote knew lei" he repeated. "He's been the trouble between you and me all •the time.1" She made no dental of that; sbe had begun to know tiering the last two dent; that It was so. "So yott game to find him?" Henry went on. • • `Vali be found she defied hilt. "Be found?" "Some are.dead," eheitidtaitted, "btit riot atl ereete are dead; but .seven ere uot esonee. he eetwee, I 7on any seven are not 1- Howdo you know?" "The Drum has been heeling for twenty, lett not for more !" Cotistence said. '"the Drum you've been &ten- ing to all day upon the tweet —the be !lien pram that Minded l'or the deed of the ellwaka; sounded, one by one, for all who died 1 But it didn't solted for hint ! It's been sounding again. you blow; but, again, it doesn't sound for lane Henry, not for him!" "The Miwaltal What do you mean by dud? Whet's that got to do with this?" Hie swollen •tato was thrust forward 'at ber; there was threat egainst her in his tense muscles and las bloodshot eyes. She didnot shrink baelt from him, or move; and aow be was not waiting • for her answer. Something—a sound —had eatetet him about. Once it echoed, low in its reverberation but penetrating and quite 9istinct. It ntme, so far as clireetion could be as- Oencd to it, Irmo the tepee toward the hit -e; but It was like no forest sound. 'distinct, too', was it erom any noise of • tie- lake. It WaS like a Drum! Yet, ,when the echo had gone, it was a sea- eas:v to deny—a haltucination, that was all But now, low and distinct It tame again; and, as before, Con- etance saw it catch Henry and hold him. His lips moved, but he did not speak: • he was counting. "Two," she saw -his lips form. The sound oiethe Drum was continu- ing, • the beats a few seconds apart. "Twelve," Constance counted to her- self. The beats had seemed to be quite measured and regular at first; • but now Constance knew that this was • only roughly, trhe ;they beat rather in rhythm than at regular intervals. "Ttionty—twenty-one — twenty-two i.." Constance . caught breath and waited for the next beat ; the time of the in- terval between the measures of the, rhythm passed, and still only the whistle of the wind and the undertone of water sounded. The Drum had beaten its roll and for the Moment, was done. Twenty-two had been her count, as neatee as she could count at all; the reckoning agreed with what the Indian woman had heard. Two had died, then, since the Drum last had beat, when its roll was twenty. Two more than before; that meant five were left! Constance chught up her woolen hood from the table and put it on. Her action seemed to call Henry to him- self. "What are you going to do?" he de- manded. ."I'm going out." , He moved between her and the door. "Not alone, you're not!" His heavy voice had a deep tone of menace in it; he seemed to consider and decide something about her. "There's a farm- house about a mile back; I'm going to take you over there and leave you with those people." "I will not go there!" He swore. 'T11 carry you, then!" She shrank hack from him as he lurehed toward her with hands out- stretrthed to seize her; he followed her. and she avoided him again; if his guilt and terror had given her mental ascendency over him, his physical strength could still force her to his will and, realizing the impossibility of evading him or overcoming him, she stopped. "Not that!" she eried. "Don't touch me'!" "Come with me, then!" he command- ed; and he Went to the door and laid his snowshoes on the snow and stepped into them, stooping -and tight- ening the straps; he stood by while she put on hers. He did not attempt again to put hands epon her as they moved sevay from the little -cabin to- ward the wooes back of the clearing; hut went ahead, treaking the trail for her with his snowshoes. He moved forward slowly; he could travel, If be had wished, three feet to every' two that she could cover, but he :seemed not wishing for speed but rather for delay. A deep, dull resonance was booming above the _wood; it boomed again and ran Into a rhythm. No longer was it above; at leak it was not , only above; It was all about there here, there, to right and to Ieft, before', behind—the booming of Me Drum. Doom was the substance or that nourel dofeatdbe Drum besting the WU of the Henry had stopped In trent of her, half turned her way; his body Mired and bent to the booming of the Ineirn, as his swollen lips -counted its toelnd- • lugs. She could see bim plainly In the • moonlight, yet she drew nearer to him as she followed his count. "Twenty. one," he counted—"Twenty-two 1" The drum was still going on. "Twenty- four—twenty-five--twenty-six1" Would he count another? ' He did not; and her pulse, which • had halted, leaped with relief, He moved on again, descending the steep "Side of a little ravine, and she fol- lowed. One of his snowshoes caught in it protruding root and, instead of slowing to free it with care, he, pulled It -violently out, and she heard the dry, seasoned wood crack. He looked down, • swore; saw that the wood was not broken through and weut on; but as he veached the bottom of the slope, she leaped downward teem a little height behind him and crashed down 'port his tratliog snowshoe jest behind the heel. The rending snap of the woOd came beneath her feet Had she broken through his shoe or snapped ber own? She sprang back, as he cried out and swung 15 I'M attempt to grasp her; he hinged to eollow her, and She rah it few steps away and stopped. At bis next step his foot entangled in the mesh of the brolteet EitioWshoe, and he •Stooped, eursing, to strip it off and hurl it froth hint ; then he tore Pee the Thuroday', January net, xgs6 elle from tne other root, ,ana threw it 'esvey, and lueehed after her again; but now he eanketbove bis Itnees and floun- dome In the snow. She stood for 11 eminent while the halfonad, MOO drunken figure struggled toward her alohg the side of the ravine.; then she ran te where the tree trunks Itid her from him. He gained the top • of the slope and turned in the direction she had gone; assured:. then, apparently, that be ltd flown in fear of him, he started beck more swiftly toward the beach. She followed, keeping out of this sight among the trees. To twenty-six, be had counted—to twenty-six, each -demi. That told that he knew 'one was livihg among those who had beeh'•upon the ferry! What one? It &odd only be one of tWo to dleteay him so; there had been only two on the ferry whose rescue he bed feared; only two who, living, he would have let lie upon this beach which he had chosen and set aside for his pa- trol, while he waited for him to die: She forced' herself on, unsparingly, as elm saw Henry gain the shore and as, believing himself alone, he hurried northward. She could • net rest; she toted not let herself be exhausted' Merciless minute 'after minute she raced him thus— A dark shape—a fig- ure. lay streteeed neon the ice ahead! -.ennui, and still farther ' out, some- thing vvhieh seemed the fragments a lifeboat tossed ixp aed down where the waves thundered and gleamed at the edge of the floe. Henry's pace.quicketaed; hers quick- ened desperately, too. She left the shelter of the trees and seranabled down • the steep pitcb of the ,blaff, shouting, crying aloud. Henry turned about and saw her; he halted, and she passed him with a rushand got be-. tween him and the form upon the ice before she turned and faced him. Defeat—defeat of whatever purpose he had had—was his now that she was. there to withessevhat he might do; and in his realization of that, he burst out in oaths against her— He advanced; she ' stood, confronting --he swayed slightly in his 'walk and swung past her and away; .he went past those things otribe beach and keptonalong the icabonimocks toward the north. She ran to the huddled figure of the. man in mackinaw and, cap; his face was hidden partly by the position in • which he lay and partly by the drift - hag snow; but, before she swept the snow away and turned him to her, she , knew that he was Alan. • • " . She cried to him and, when he did not answer, she shook him to get him awake; but she could not rouse him. • Praying in wild whispers to herself, she opened his jacket and felt within his clothes; he NM warm—at least he She Tried to Lift Him, to Carry Him; Then to Drag Him, But She Could Not. not frozen within! . No; and there wetted some stir of .hie heart! She. reel te lift him, to carry him ; then to drag him. But 00 multi not; he tell trete leer arms lute the sneer lignite anti she sat down, polling him upon her lap and, elasping lent to her. , Site Must have tad, she mist get him o BMW liouHe, Sile MUSt take him Vat UI' the terrible cold: but 'dared she leave him? Might Henry return, if she went trway? Site erose and looked bout. Par up the shore she sew his figura rising and falling with his flight over the 'rough ice. A sound, dente to her, too, the low, deep reverberation of the Drum heating once more alongehe shore .and In the woods and out aeon the lake; and it seemed to her that Henry's figure, in the stumbling steps of his flight, was keeping time to the riarythet of that soupd. And she steeped to Alan .fted coveted him with her eoat, before leaving' him; ter she feared no longer. Henry's return. CHAPTER XX The Fate of the eliwaka. . "So this isn't your house, Judah?" "No, Alan; this Is an Incliante house, but it is not mine. It Is Adam tabs' house, He and his svife went some- where else when you needetrthis." "Be helped to bring me here, then?" "No, Alma. They were aloe% het— alt and Adam's wife. When she found you, they brought you here—more than a Mile along the beach. Two Women 1" Alan choked as he pet down the lit - tie poretipine quill box which bad started this line of inquiry. Whatever questions he had asked Judeb or Sher. rill these last kew &les ltd brought • htm very quickly. back to hereloverl by some Intuitive eertaluty regarding Spearman, sbe had come north; .she - •had not thopglit of peril to laerself e alt had struggled alane'acreSS danger- ous ice in stonn—a giri brought up she had been! She had found Mtn— Alan—with life ahuost extinct—upon the beach; she aid the Indian woman, Wassaquam had just Sald—had .brought hipe along the shore. „How • had they managed that, he wondered. Xis throat closed up, 'and his eyes filled as he thought of this,' In the week cluring'AvItich he hat been cared for,here, Alan had not seen Constance; but there had been It pe- culiar and exciting alteration in Sher.' rill's manner toward him, he had felt; it was something more than merely lik- ing for him that Sherrill had showed, and Sherrill had spoken of her to him as Constance, not, ELS he had called her always before, "Miss Sherrielee or "my deughter." ,lan had bad dream• s which had seemed impoisible •of fule fillment, of dedicating Ins life and all that he could make of it to her; now. , Sherrilhe Manner had brought to hIne soraethin,g like awe, as of something quite incredible. • He turned to the, Indian. "Has anything mere been heard of Sp,e,cubnrniylant,hJisudamn h.aT' • Alan; Pe crossed the strafts the next day npon the. Perry there. In Meekinew City he bought liquor at a bar and tookit with him: tie asked there 1 emit trains into the, northwest. He is gonelee ug alt he had. What el e couid he' e •.Alan creased the little cal .n anet looked out the window over the snow- • *covered elope. w ere the brignt sten was shining. Snow had cove, ed any • tracks that there had been upon the beach where those who had been in.. the beet with him heel been footed dead. He had knownthat tins Must be; he had believed them beyond aid when he had tried for the shore tot summon help for them and for him. self. The other boat, which had car-, ried survivors of the wreck, blown.. farther to the south, had been able tee gain the shore of North Fax !shunt le and as these men had not been so long - exposed before they were brought toi shelter, four men lived. Sherrill had , told him their names; they were the, mate, the assistant engineer. a dock -- hand and rather Perron, the priest: who hadebeen a passenger but who had. stayed with the crew till the last Benet jamin Corvet had perished in = the, wreckage of the ears. As Alan went back to his (elate, the, Indian watched him and seemed not. displeased. • "You feel good, now, Alan?" Wassset quam asked. "Almost like myself, Judah." • "That is right. then. It was thought; you would be like that today. A sledt Is coming soon, now." "We're going to leave herejudahrt‘ • "Yes, Alan." • Was he going to see her, then? Ex- citement stirred him, and he turned te.. • Wassaquam to ask' that; but suddenly he hesitated and did not inquire. • Wassaquam brought the mackinaw and cap which .Alan had worn on Nunite ber 25; he took from the bed the new blankets which had been furnished by Sherrill. They waited until a farmer • appeared driving, a team hitched to a low, wide-runnered sled. The Indian • settled Alan on the sled, and these clroee off. • They traveled south along the shore, rounded into Little Traverse bay, and the houses of Harbor Point appeared among their pines. The sled proceed- ed across the edge of the bay to the little city; even before leaving the bay ice, Alan saw Constance and her fa- ther; they were walking at the water front near the railway station, and they came out on the ice as tbey recog- nized the occupants of the sled. Alen felt himself alternately weak and roused to strength as he saw her. Tbeir eyes encountered, aud hers looked tinny; a sadden shypess, whiela • sent his heart leaping; lead come over her. He wantedto speak to her, to Make some recognition -to her of what she had clone, but he did not dere to trust las voice; and she seemed to un- derstand that. lie turned to Sherrill instead. An engine and tender coupled to a single cnr stood at the railway , station. "We're going to Chicago?". he in- quired of Sherrill. "Not yet, Alan—to St. Ignace. Fa- ther Perron—the priest, you know— • went to St. Ignace as soon as he recov- ered from his exposure. He sent word to me that he wished to see me at my convenience; I told him that we wont& go to him as soon ELS you were eble." "He sent no ether WOrti than altar • "Only that he hod a very grave corn -e munication to mike to us." Alan did not ase more: at mention of rather Perron he had seemed to feel himself once more among the crashing,. tharging freight 51108 on the, ferry imd. to see Benjamin Corvet, pinned amid the wreckage mid epeaking into the ear of the priest. e It was not merely • a confessionat twhhiceliitysiNtatthetitl-ePtiegrItgu mtnaen1 en Nt)1111111" 25; • it wee nui aceneation of crime; against another men as well; and the confession mid accusation both had been mode, not only to gain forgive- ness from Gat, but to right terrible wrongs, e' the confession :left some things enexplained, it Wei not lack eon- firmation; the prieet had ' learned enough to be certaln that It Virat4 no hallucination of madness, Mb had been charged delinitely to repeat Melt hnd been told ban to the persais he was now going to moot; 140 Ite watched eee pectnntly tipoe the railway .statioa • platform at St. Ignace. A tall, hand. 50510 • tan whom • loather Perrot).