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The Huron Expositor, 1929-09-20, Page 73 r. y ry Graduate in i paled tai; ty aR ' Late assistant •Werr Ir 69,zzaD, el and Aural 1Gn; 'tat1te, . (llt(ilielal's e and ilrolrleu Square ` Throat Hos- W�n$al$, loliiyion, Fslxl a At Commercial lli[rotel, sea as , y. Ihird oda in =oh money fronell. a.ale. to S pan as Waterloovirgterloo beet, South, Stratford none 21M Stratford. NNzt• visit in September. • RUPTURE SPIECIIALE T ri+rapture, Varicocele, Varicose Veiines A N dominal Weakness Spinal Deform- ' r. Consultation Free. Call or Write. J. G. SMITH, British Appli- ance Specialist, 15 Downie St., Strat- l? ord, Ont. 6202-255 LEGAL a Phone No. 91 JOHN J. 7HIUGGAHD arrister, Solicitor, Notary Public, Etc. Mattie Block - - Seaforth, Ont. R. S. RAYS Barrister, Solicitor, Conveyancer and Notary Public. Solicitor for the Dominion Bank. Office in rear of the Dominion Bank, Seaforth. Money to loan. : ;EST ,& I: EST Barristers, Solicitors, Conveyan- trs and Notaries Public, Etc. Office In the Edge Building, opposite The Expositor Office. VETERINARY as JOHN GRIIEVE, V.S. Honor graduate of Ontario Veterin- ary College. All diseases of domestic animals treated. Calls promptly at- tended to and charges moderate. Vet- erinary Dentistry a specialty. Offiee and residence on Goderich Street, one, door east of Dr. Mackay's Office, Sea - forth. , A. R. CAMPBELL, V.S. Graduate of Ontario Veterinary College, University of Toronto.. All diseases of domestic animals treated lby the most modern principles. Charges reasonable. Day or night calls promptly attended to. Office on &lain Street, Hensall, opposite Town a:! all. Phone 116. MEDICAL DR. W. C. SPROAT Graduate of Faculty of Medicine, University of Western Ontario, Lon• don. Member of College of Physic- ians and Surgeons of Ontario. Office in Aberhart's Drug Store, Main St., Seaforth. Phone 90. DR. R. P. I. DOUGALL Honor graduate of Faculty of ??Medicine and Master of Science, Uni- versity of Western Ontario, London. Member of College of Physicians and Burgeons of Ontario. Office 2 doors east of post office. Phone 56, Hensall, Ontario. 3004-tf DR, A. NEWTON-BRADY Bayfield. Graduate Dublin University, Ire- lland. Late Extern Assistant Master Rotunda 'Hlospital for Women anal Children, Dublin. Office at residence lately occupied by Mrs. Parsons. i:3ours, 9 to 10 a.m., 6 to 7 p.m.; Sundays, 1 to 2 p.m. 2866-2( DR. F. J. BURROWS Office and residence Goderich Street, oust of the Methodist Church, Sea- fforth. Phone 46. Coroner for the County of Huron. DR. C. MACKAY C. Mackay, honor graduate of Trin- faty University, and gold medalist of Trinity Medical College; member of the College of Physicians and Sur- geons of Ontario. DR. H. HUGH ROSS Graduate of University of Toronto Faculty of Medicine, member of Col- lege of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario; pass graduate courses in Chicago Clinical School of Chicago ; Royal Ophthalmic Hospital, London, England; University Hospital, Lon- don, England. Office -Back of Do- 1 minion Bank, Seaforth. Phone No. 5. Night calls answered from residence, Victoria Street, Seaforth. • DR. J. A. MUNN Successor to Dr. R. R. Ross Graduate of Northwestern Univers- ity, Chicago, Ill. Licentiate Royal College of Dental Surgeons, Toronto. Office over Sills' Hardware, Main St., Seaforth. Phone 151. DR. F. J. i:ECHELY Graduate Royal College of Dental Surgeons, Toronto. Office over W. R. i Smith's Grocery, Main Street, Sea - forth. Phones: Office, 185 W; resi- t dence, 185 J. 3055-tf s CONSULTING ENGINEER{ S. W. Archibald, B.A.Sc. (Tor.), O.L.S., Registered Professional En- gineer and Land Surveyor. Associate Member Engineering Institute of Can ada. Office Seaforth, Ontario. AUCTIONEERS t THOMAS BROWN Licensed auctioneer for the counties of Huron and Perth. Correspondence 1 arrangements for sale dates can be made by'calling The Expositor Office I Seaforth. Charges moderate, an d t satisfaction guaranteed. Phone 802. OSCAR KLOPP Honor. Graduate Carey Jonea' Na- tional School of Auctioneering, Chi- cago. Special course taken in Pure Bred Live Stock, Real Estate, 1iG1er- ebandise and Farm Sales. Rates ie f keeping with prevailingmarket. Sat- isfaction assured. Write or wire, Oscar Klopp, Zurich, Ont. Phone, a 18-93. 2866-25 I 1R. V. LUX I f Licensed auctioneer far the Comte r e& i:inron. Sales attended to in all i parts of the county'. Seine years' pax- . perience in Manitoba and Stialratebe- i' wan. Terme xetWo l Mame Ho i 178 r 11, III -mkt -4 OW* n16.0., i ,R. I No. 1. Ordeto b�lt4o,,b,,,,y ti„t:A{q',� oat p, t!1}alb Bn c 1poyltorr O race, 6J:9G'to ea, vent 1 &I. I"rnrillnil. i Continued from last week 1!1111 For a matter of twenty seconds - even longer it seemed to Carrigan - the life of these two was expressed in a vivid and unforgettable tableau. One half of it David saw -the blue sky, the dazzling sun, the girl in be- tween. The pistol dropped from his limp hand, and the weight of his body tottered on the crook of his under - elbow. Mentally and physically he was on the ,point of collapse, and yet in those few moments every detail of the picture was painted with a brush of fire in his brain. The girl was bareheaded. Her face was as white as any face he had ever seen, living or dead; her eyes were like pools that had caught the reflection of fire; he saw the sheen of her hair, the poise of her slender body -its shock, stupe- faction, horror. He sensed these things even as his brain wobbled diz•• zily, and the larger part of the pic- ture began to fade out of his vision. But her face remained to the last. It grew clearer, Iike a cameo framed in an iris -a beautiful, staring, horrified face with shimmering tresses of jet- black hair blowing about it like a veil. He noticed the hair that was partly undone as if she had been in a struggle of some sort, or had been running fast against the breeze that came up the river. He fought with himself to hold that picture of her, to utter some word, make some movement. But the power to see and to live died out of him. He sank back with a queer sound in his throat. He did not hear the answering cry from the girl as she flung herself, with a quick littl3 prayer• for help, on her knees in the soft, white sand 'beside him. He felt no movement when she raised his head in her arm and with her bare hand brushed back his sand -littered hair, revealing where the bullet had struck him. He did not know when she ran back to the river, His first sensation was of a cool and comforting something trickling over his burning temples and his face. It was water. Subconsciously he knew that, and in the same way he began to think. But it was hard to pull his thoughts together. They persisted in hopping about, like a lot of sand -fleas in a dance, and just as he got hold of one and reached for another, the first would slip away I • him. He began to get the best of them after a time, and he had an uncontrollable desire to say some- thing. But his eyes and his lips were sealed tight, and to open them, a lit- tle army of gnomes came out of the darkness in the back of his head, each of them armed with a lever, and be- angprying with all their might. Af- ertthat came the beginning of light and a flash of consciousness. The girl was working over him- He could feel her and hear her move- ment. Water was trickling over his face. Then he heard a voice, close over him, saying something in a sob- bing monotone which he could not un- derstand. With a mighty effort he opened his eyes. "Thank le bon Dieu, you live, m'sieu," he heard the voice say, as if coming from a long distance away. You live, you live "Tryin' to," he mumbled thickly, feeling suddenly a sense of great ela- tion. "Tryin'-" He wanted to curse the gnomes for deserting him, for as soon as they were gone with their levers, his eyes and his lips shut tight again, or at east he thought they did. But he began to sense things in a curious sort of way. Some one was dragging I He could feel the grind of sand under his body. There were inter- vals when the dragging operation paused. And then, after a long time, I, • seemed to hear more than one voice, There were two -sometimes a murmur of them. And odd visions came to him. He seemed to see the S with shining black hair and dark eyes, and then swiftly she would change into a girl with hair like bdaz- ng gold. This was a different girl. She was not like Pretty Eyes, as his twisted mind called the other. This econd vision that he saw was like a radiant bit of the sun, her hair al' aflame with the fire of it and her face a different sort of face. He was al- ways glad when she went away and Pretty Eyes came back. To David Carrigan this interesting experience in his life might have cov- ered an hour, a day, or a. month. Or 5 year for that matter, for he seem- ed to have had an indefinite associa- ion with Pretty Eyes. He had known her for a long time and very inti- mately, it seemed. Yet he had no memory of the long fight in the hot sun, 'or of the river, or of the sing - ng warblers, or of the inquisitive sandpiper that had marked out the fine which his enemy's last bullet had raveled. He had entered into a new world in which everything was vague and unreal except that vision of dark It • dark eyes and pale, beautiful face. Several times he saw it with marvelous clearness, and each time he drifted away into darkness again with the sound of a voice growing fainter and fainter in his ears. Then came a time of utter chaos nd soundless gloom. He was in a it, where even his subconscious self was almost dead under a crushing op- eression. At last a star began to 1lmmer in this pit, a star pale and ndistinct and a vast distance away. ut it crept steadily up through the ternity of darkness, and the nearer t came, the less there was of the slackness of night. From a star it rew into a assn, and with the sun ame dawn. In that dawn he heard he GI ng of a bird, and the bird was just over his head. Men (Osumi - Fan opened his eyes, and understand- ing cane to him, he found himself under the silver 'birch that 'belonged to the wood warbler. For a space he did not ask himself how he had come there. He was look- ing at the river and the white strip of sand. Out there were the rock and his dunnage pack. Also his rifle. Instinctively his eyes turned to the beam ambush farther down. That, too, was in a blaze of sunlight now. But where he lay, or sat, or stood - he was not sure what he was doing at that moment -it was shady and deliciously cool. The green of the cedar and spruce and balsam was close about him, inset with the silver and gold of the thickly -leaved birch. He discovered that he was bolstered. up partly against the trunk of this birch and partly•against a spruce sapling. Between these two, where his head rested, was a pile of soft moss freshly torn from the earth. And within reach of him was his own kit pail filled with water. He moved himself cautiously and raised a hand to his head. His fin- gers came in contact with a bandage. For a minute or two after that he sat without moving while his amaz- ed senses seized upon the significan^e of it all. In the first place he was alive. But even this fact of living was less remarkable than the other things that had happened. He re- membered the final moments of the unequal duel. His enemy had got him. And that enemy was a woman! Moreover, after she had 'blown away a part of his head and had him help- less in the sand, she had -in place of finishing him there -dragged him tc this cool nook and tied up his wound. It was hard for him to believe, but the pail of water, the moss behind his shoulders, the bandage and cer- tain visions that were' reforming themselves in his brain convinced him. A woman had shot him. She had worked like the very devil to kill him. And afterward she had ,saved him! He grinned. It was final proof that his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him. No one but a woman would have been quite so unreason• able. A man would have completed the job. He began to look for her up and down the white strip of sand. And in looking he saw the gray and sil- ver flash of the hard-working sand- piper. He chuckled, for he was ex- ceedingly comfortable. and also ex- hilaratingly happy to know that the thing was over and he was not deal. If the sandpiper had been a man, he would have called him up to shake hands with him. For it hadn't been for the bird getting squarely in front of him and giving him away, there might have been a more horrible end to it all. He shuddered as he thought of the mighty effort he had made to fire a shot into the heart of the bal- sam ambush --and perhaps into the heart of a woman! He reached for the pail and drank deeply of the water in it. He felt no pain. His dizziness was gone. His mind had grown suddenly clear and alert. The warmth of the water told him almost instantly that it had been taken from the river some time ago. He observed the change in sun and shadows. With the instinct of a man trained to note details, he pulled out his watch. It was almost six o'clock. More than three hours had passed since the sandpiper had got in frort of his gun. He did not attempt to rise to his feet, but scanned with slower and more careful scrutiny the edge of the forest and the river. He had been mystified while cringing for his life behind the rock, but he was infinitely more so now. Greater desire he had never had than this which thrilled him in these present minutes of his read- justment -desire to look upon4 the woman again. And then, all at once, there came hack to him a mental flash of the other. He remembered, as if something was, coming 'back to him out of a dream, how the whimsical twistings of his sick brain had made him see two faces inAtead of one. Yet he knew that the first picture of his mysterious assailant, the picture painted in his brain when he had tried to raise his pistol, was the right one. He had seen her dark eyes aglow; he had seen the sunlit sheen of her black hair rippling in the wind; he had seen the white pallor in her face, the slimness of her as she stood over him in horror -he remembered even the clutch of her white hand at her throat. A moment before she had tried to kill him. And then he had looked up and had seen her like that! It must have been some unac- countable trick in his brain that had flooded her hair with golden fire at times. His eyes followed a furrow in the white sand which led from where he sat bolstered against the tree down to his pack and the rock. It was the trail made by his body when she had dragged him up to the shelter and coolness of the timber. One of his laws of physical care was to keep himself trained down to a hundred and sixty, hut he wondered how she had dragged up even se much as that of•dead weight. It had taken a great deal of effort. 11e could see distinctly three different places in the sand where she had stopped to rest. Carrigan had earned a reputation as the expert analyst of "N" Divis- ion. In delicate matters it was sel- dom that McVane did not take him into consultation. He possessed an almost uncanny grip on the working ,processes of a criminal mind, and the first rule he had set down for himeel" was to regard the acts of omission rather than the one outstanding act of commission. But when he proverl to himself that the chief actor in a beam possessed a norM 1 rather than a cxiuilnal mind, he fouund himself in 'WOO x try, atter an. a�r(d s a slim total at ' .0 em 0,04 t 1 in'this ii . star gee aye Via. awn peer sal adventure. klidaitu0 r ,, m, the womazt •',chap .lad' shot hang k0 been in both purpose and act as .,Yr ssassin. Hee deteraninntiorn half ,been to kill him She had di:movi led the:white hag with which he had p$a;4ed for mercy. Her marksmanahila as of fiendish cleverness. Up to her last shot she had been, to all intent and purpose a murderess, The change had . come when she looked down upon him, 'bleeding and helpless, in the sand. Undoubtedly she had thought be VAS dying. But why, 'when she saw hr's eyes open a little later, had she cried out her gratitude to God? haat had work- ed the sudden transformation in bee? Why diad she labored to save the life she had so atrociously coveted a min- ute before? If his assailant had been a man, Carrigan would have found an answer. For he was not robbed; and therefore robbery was not a motif. "A case of mistaken identity," he would have told himself. "An error in visual judg- ment." But the fact that in his analysis he was dealing with a woman made his answer only partly satisfying. He could not disassociate himself from her eyes -their beauty, their horror, the way they had looked at him. It was as if a sudden revulsion had come over her; as if, looking down upon her bleeding handiwork, the woman's soul in her had revolted, and with that re- vulsion had come repentance -repent- ance and pity. "That," thought Carrigan, "would be just like 'a woman -and especially a woman rwith eyes like hers." This left him but two conclusions to choose from. Either there had been a mistake, and the woman had sho'vn both horror and desire to amend when she discovered it, or a too tender-hearted agent of Black Roger Audemard had waylaid him in the heart of the white strip of sand. The sun was another hour lower in the sky when Carrigan assured him- self in a series of cautious experi- ments that he was not in a condition to stand upon his feet. In his pack were 'a number of things he wanted -- his blankets, for instance, a steel mir- ror, and the thermometer in his med- ical kit. He was beginning to feel a bit anxious about himself. There were sharp pains back of his eyes. His face was hat, and he was develop- ing an unhealthy appetite for water. It was fever and he kned what fever meant in this sort of thing, when one was alone. He had given up hope of the woman's return. It was not rea- sonable to expect her to come back after her furious attempt to kill him. She had bandaged him, bolstered him up, placed water beside him, and had then left him to work out the rest of his salvation alone. But why the deuce hadn't she brought up his pack? On his hands and knees he began to work himself toward it slowly. He found that the movement caused him pain, and that with this pain, if he persisted in movement, there was a synchronous rise of nausea. The two seemed to work in a sort' of- unity. But his medicine case was important now, and his blankets, and his rifle if he hoped to signal help that might chance to pass on the river. A foot at a time, a yard at a time, he made his way down into the sand. His fingers dug into the footprints of the mysterious gun -woman. He approv- ed of their size. They were small and narrow, scarcely longer than the palm and fingers of his hand -and they were made by shoes instead of moc- casins. It seemed an interminable time to him before he reached his pack. When he got there, a pendulum seemed swinging back and forth inside his head, beating'against his skull. He lay down with his pack for a pillow, intending to rest for a spell. But the minutes added themselves one on top of another. The sun slipped be- hind clouds banking in the west. It grew cooler, while within him he was consumed by a burning thirst. He could hear the ripple of running wa- ter, the laughter of it among pebbles a few yards away. And the river it- self became even more desirable than his medicine case, or his blankets, or his rifle. The song of it, inviting and tempting him, blotted thought of the other things out of his mind. And he continued his journey, the swing of the pendulum in his h •ad becoming harder, but the sound of the river growing nearer. At last he came to the wet sand, and fell on his face, and drank. After this he had no great desire to The "Nugget" tin opens with a twist 1 Men and wOmern who 1reallize that appearance counts always have well - polished shoes. Did YO!f) "Nugget" your Daces this morning? CO sap, and Baa ` a r�z The Ora iR ..0 a 41e4 • o could hear new :setUnde in the rte -. the iers$t Are 1 nS' tiou i , " ? .vealx little. twitters. aatiailai frau th wood warblers, driven to s nso. `b cldelteai18ag gloom ix the densely eau opted balsams and cedars, and fright- ened • by the first low bots c th owls. There was a crai not fa distant, probably. a porcupine wed filing through brush on his way fo a drink; or perhaps it was a thirst deer, or a bear coming out in the . hope of finding a deed fish. Carni gan loved that start of sound, even when a pendulum was beating back and forth in l% head. It was like medicine to him, and he lay with wide open eyes, his ears picking up one after another the voices that marked the change from day to night. He heard the cry of a loon, its softer, chuckling note of honeymoon days. From across the river came a cry that was half howl, half bark. Car- rigan knew that it was coyote, and not wolf, a coyote whose breed ha•I wandered hundreds of miles north of the prairie country. The gloom gathered in, and yet it was not darkness as the darkness of night is known a thousand miles south. It was the dusky twilight of day where the sun rises at three o'clock in the morning and still throws its ruddy light in the western sky at nine o'clock at night; where the pop- lar buds unfold themselves into leaf before one's very eyes; where straw- berries are green in the morning and red in the afternoon; where, a little later, one could read newspaper print until midnight by the glow of the sun -and between the rising and the setting of that sun there would be from eighteen to twenty hours of day. It was evening time in the wonderland of the north, a wonder- land hard and frozen and ridden by pain and death in winter, but a para- dise upon earth in this month of June. The beauty of it filled Carrigan's soul, even as he lay on his back in the damp sand. Far south of him steam and steel were coming, and the world would soon know that it was easy to grow wheat at the Arctic Cir- cle, that cucumbers grew to half the size of a man's arm, that flowers smothered the land and berries turn- ed it scarlet and black. He had dreaded these days -days of what he called "the great discovery". --the time when a crowded civilization would at ast understand how the fruits of the earth leaped up to the call of twenty hours of sun each day, even though that earth itself was eternally frozen •f one went down under its surface four feet with a pick and shovel. To -night the gloom came earlier because of the clouds in the west. It was very still. Even the breeze had ceased to come from up the river. And as Carrigan listened, exulting in the thought that the coolness of the wet sand was drawing the fever from him, he heard another sound. At first he thought it was the splashing of a fish. But after that it came again, and still again, and he knew that it was the steady and rhythmic dip of paddles. A thrill shot through him, and he raised himself to his elbow. Dusk covered the river, and he could not see. But he heard low voices as the paddles dipped. And after a little he knew that one of these was the voice of a woman. His heart gave a big jump. "She •s coming back," he whispered to him- self. "She is coming back!" IV Carrigan's first impulse, sudden as the thrill that leaped through him, was to cry out to the occupants of the unseen canoe. Words were on his lips, but he forced them back. They could not miss him, could not get be- yond the reach of his voice -and he waited. After all, there might be profit in a reasonable degree of cau- tion. He crept back toward his rifle, sensing the fact that movement no longer gave him very great distress. At the same time he lost no sound from the river. The voices were sil- ent, and the dip, dip, dip of paddles was approaching softly and with ex- treme caution. At last he could bare- ly hear the trickle of them, yet h•, knew the canoe was coming steadily nearer. Perhaps the lady with fly, beautiful eyes and the glistening hair had changed her mind again and was returning to put an end to him. The thought sharpened his vision. He saw a thin shadow a little darker than the gloom of the river; it grew into shape; something grated lightly upon sand and pebbles, and then he heard the guarded plash of feet in shallow water and saw some one pull- ing the canoe up higher. A second figure joined the first. They advan-- ed a few paces and stopped. In a moment a voice called softly. "M'sieu! M'sieti Carrigan!" There was an anxious note in the voice, hut Carrigan held his tongue. And then he heard the woman say' "it, was here, Bateese! I am sure of it!" There was more than anxiety in her voice now. Her words trembled with distress. "Bateese-if he is dead - he is up there close to the trees." "But. he isn't dead," said Carrigan, raising himself a little. "He is here, behind the rock again!" In a moment she had run to where he was lying, his hand clutching the cold barrel of the pistol which he had found in the sand, his white face look- ing up at her. Again he found him- self staring into the glow of her eves and in that pale light which preeedes the coming of stars and moon the fancy struck him that she was love- lier than in the full radiance of the sun. He heard a throbbing note in her throat. And then she was down on her knees at his side, leaning close over him, her hands groping at, his shoulder's, her quirk breath betraying how swiftly her heart was heating "You are not hurt---hadly?" she cried. "I don't know," replied David. "You made a perfect shot. T think a part of my head is gone. At least you've shot away my balance, because I can't stand on my feet?" Her hand touched his face, remain- ing there for au instant, and the pain e rawo .A,ga PUMP OO ▪ 'a Lazo Sz Sao P O O ereaffoetra Oa -04 of - it pressed his forehead. It was like the touch of cool velvet, he thought. Then she called to the man named Bateese. He made Carrigan thing of a huge chimpanzee as he came near, because of the shortness of his body and the length of hie arms. In the half light he might have been a huge animal, a hulking creature of some sort walking up- right. Carrigan's fingers closed more tightly on the butt of his automatic. The woman began to talk swiftly in a patois of French and Cree. David caught the gist of it. She was tell- ing Bateese to carry him to the canoe, and to be very careful, because m'sieu was badly hurt. It was his head, she emphasized. Bateese must be care- ful of his head. David slipped his pistol into its holster as Bateese bent over him. He tried to smile at the woman to thank her for her solicitude -after having nearly killed him. There was an in- creasing glow in the night, and he began to see her more plainly. Out on the middle of the river was a sil- very bar of light. The moon was coming up, a little pale as yet, but triumphant in the fact that clouds had blotted out the sun an hour be- fore his time. Between this bar of light and himself he saw the head of Bateese. It was a wild, savage -look - ng head, bound pirate -fashion round the forehead with a huge Hudson's Bay kerchief. Bateese might have been old Jack Ketch himself bending over to give the final twist to a vic- tim's neck. Gently and without ef- fort he raised him to his feet. And then, as easily as he might have lift- ed a child, he trundled him up in his arms and walked off with him over the sand. Carrigan had not expected this. He was a little shock -ed and felt also the mpropriety of the thing. The idea of being lugged off like a baby was mbarrassing, even in the presence of ne who had deliberately put him in his present condition. Bateese did he thing with such beastly ease. It was as if he was no more than a mall boy, a runt with no weight whatever, and Bateese was a man. He would have preferred to stagger s- ong on his own feet or creep on his ands and knees, and he grunted as much to Bateese on the way to the anoe. He felt, at the same time, hat the situation owed him something more of discussion and explanation. Even now, after half killing him, the woman was taking a rather high - ended advantage of him. She might t least have assured him that she ad made a mistake and was sorry. But she did not speak to him again. She said nothing more to Bateese, and when the half-breed deposited him in he midship part of the canoe, facing he bow, she tood back in silence. Then Bateese brought his pack and ifle, and wedged the pack in behind im so that he could sit upright. Af- er that, without pausing to ask per- mission, he picked up the woman and arried her through the shallow we- er to the bow, saving her the wetting f her feet. As she turned to find her paddy er face was toward David, and for moment she was looking at him. "Do you mind telling me who yogi re, and where we are going?" he asked. "I am Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain," he said. "My brigade is down the -dyer, M'sieu Carrigan." He was amazed at the promptness f her confession, for as one of the working factors of the long arm of he police he accepted it as that. He ad scarcely expected her to divulge er name after the cold-blooded way n which she had attempted to kill im. And she had spoken quite calm - y of "my brigade." He had heard of he Boulain Brigade. it was a name ssociated with Chipewyan, as he re- Dublin nemhered it ---or Fort McMurray. He St. Columban -as not sure just where the Boulain Seaforth cows had traded freight with the pper-river craft. Until this year he 'as positive they had not come as ar south as Athabasca Landing. Bou- ain-Boulain-- The name repeated tacit* over and over in his mind. Bateese shoved off the canoe, and the woman's paddle dipped in and out of he water beginning to shimmer in moonlight. But he could not, for a where -!before," he said. There 'MS. a space of only five or six feet be- tween them and he spoke with studied . distinctness. "Possibly you have, m'sieu." (Continued next week) Strange that those men who are clamoring for cooler clothing in the summer have not adopted the kilt. - Oshawa Times. It is consoling to think that the' sunback gown demonstrates that the era of spinerless woman is past.--t- tawa Journal. Politiesand liquor apparently are as inseparable as a combination of beer and pretzels. -Mabel Willebrandt The Niagara Falls Review issues the warning that a railway train nev- er stalls at a crossing. -Woodstock Sentinel -Review. Stocks often recover, but, unfortu- nately, many of the •players do not. - St. Catharines Standard. LONDON Centralia Exeter Hensall Kippen Brucefield Clinton Londesboro Blyth Belgvave Wingham AND WIINGHAM North. South. Wingham Belgrave Blyth I.onlesboro Clinton Brucefield Kippen Hensall Exeter Centralia a.m. 10.36 10.49 11.03 11.08 11.17 (163) 11.53 12.13 12.22 12.34 12.50 a.m. 6.55 7.15 '7.27 7.35 7.56 7.58 (162) 8.22 8.32 8.47 8.59 C. N. 11. TIME TABLE East. Goderich Holrnesville Clinton Seaforth St. Columban Dublin ime get himself beyond the pounding f that name in his brain. It was of merely that he had heard the ame before. There was something ignificant about it. Something that made him grope 'back in his memory f things. Boulain! 'He whispered it o himself, his eyes on the slender gure of the woman ahead of him, waying gently to the steady sweep f the paddle in her hands. Yet he ould think of nothing. A feeling of rritation swept over him, disgust at is own mental impotency. And the iazying sickness was brewing in his ead again. "I have heard thtst ntatfin eme • ar Clinton Hohne'sville Goderich West. 11.17 11.22 11.33 11.50 12.01 12.20 a -m. 6.20 6.36 6.44 6.59 7.06 7.11 p.m. 5.51 6.04 6.18 6.23 6.22• (165) 6.52 7.12: 7.21 7.33 7.55 p.m. 3.05 3.25 3.38 3.47 4.10 4.28 (164) 4.38 4.48 5.05 5.17 p.m. 2.200 2.37 2.50 3.08 3.15- 3/22 p.m. p.m. 5.38 9.37 5.44 .. 5.53 9.50- 6.08-6.53 10.04 7.03 10.13 7.20 10.30• C. P. R. TIME TA East. LE Goderich Menet McGaw Auburn Blyth Walton McNaught Toronto a.m. 5.50• 5.55 6.05 6.11 6.21, 6.40 6.52 10.211, 01515. Toronto 7.40 McNaught a 1.1,42 12.61 Blyth Walton 12.22 Auburn 12.22' McGaw 312, ei • Menezet ..... 2