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The Huron Expositor, 1929-09-27, Page 71yAxes aim Cam rest er voice was exquisite, clean as itme Taote of a bird, yet so soft and low that she seemed scarcely to have ejeoltem. And it was, rCarrrigen thought, criminally evasive— miner the ellecuaristancess He wane .d her to tern round a say something. 1:1 a wants b1•; st of I, to ask her why she Thad tried to kill him. 1[t was his right to demand an explanation. And It was his duty to get her back to the Landing, where the law would ask an accounting of her. She must know that. There was only one way let which she could have learned his name, and that was by prying into his identification papers while he was unconscious. Therefore she not only knew his name, but also that he was Sergeant Carrigan of the Royal North West Mounted Police. In spite of all this she was apparently not very deeply concerned. She was not fright- ened, and she did not appear to be even slightly excited. He leaned nearer to her, the move- naent sending a sharp pain between his eyes. It almost drew a cry from ihirn, but he forced himself to speak without betraying it. "You tried to murder me—and a1- 337,0st succeeded. Haven't you any- thing to say?"' "Not now, m'sieu—except that it was a mistake, and I am sorry. But yrni must not talk. You must remain a uiet. 1 am afraid your skull is,frac- red." Afraid his skull was fractured! And oh:': expressed her fear in the casual 'ray she might have spoken of a asiothache. He leaned back against his dunnage sack and closed his eyes. ,Probably she was right. These fits of dizziness and nausea were suspic- ious. They made him top-heavy and filled him with a desire to crumple up somewhere. He was clear-mind- edly conscious of this and of his fight against the weakness. But in those moments when he felt better and his head was clear of pain, he had not seriously thought of a fractured skull. If she believed it, why did she not treat him a bit more considerately? iBateese, with that strength of an ox in his arms, had no use for her as- sistance with the paddle. She might • at least have sat facing him, even if she refused to explain matters more. definitely. A mistake, she called it. And she was sorry for him! She had made those statements in a matter-of-fact way, but with a voice that was like music.. She had spoken perfect Eng- lish, but in her words were the in- fiection and velvety softness of the French blood which must be running red in her veins. And her name was Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain! With eyes closed, Carrigan called himself an idiot for thinking of these things at the present time. Pri- marily he was a man -hunter out on important duty, and here was duty right at hand, a thousand miles south of Black Roger Audemard, the whole- sale murderer he was after. He would have sworn on his life that Black Roger had never gone at a killing more deliberately than this same Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain• had gone after him behind the rock! Now that it was all over, and he was alive, she was taking him some- where as coolly and as unexcitedly as though they were returning from a picnic. Carrigan shut his eyes tight- er and wondered if he was thinking straight. He believed he was badly hurt, but he was as strongly convin- ced that his mind was clear. And he lay quietly with his head against the pack, his eyes closed, waiting for the b coolness of the river to drive his nau- sea away again. u He sensed rather than felt the swift d movement of the canoe. There was 1 no perceptible tremor to its progress. The current and a perfect craftsman- t 1,'n ship with„the paddles were carrying it along at sire or seven miles ari hour. He heard the rippling of water that at times was almost like the tinkling of tiny bells, and more and more bell - like became that sound as he lustened to it. It struck a certain note for hien. And to that note another added itself, until in the purling rhythm of the river he caught the murmuring monotone of a name i:;ouiain-_nou- lain--Boulain. The name (became an obsession: It meant something. And he knew what it meant—if he could only whip his memory back into har- ness again. But that was impossible now. When he tried to concentrate his mental faculties, his head ached terrifically. He dipped his hand into the water and held it over his eyes. For half an hour after that he did not raise his head. In that time not a word was spoken] by Bateese or Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain. For the forest people it was not an hour in which to talk. The moon had risen swift- ly, and the stars were out. Where there had been gloom, the world now a flood of gold and silver light. At first Carrigan allowed this to filter between his fingers; then he opened his eyes. He felt more evenly bal- anced again. Straight in front of him was Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain. The curtain of dusk had risen from between them, and she was full in the radiance of the moon. She was no longer pad- dling, but was looking straight a- head. To Carrigan her figure was exquisitely girlish as he saw it now. She was bareheaded, as he had seen her first, and her hair hung down her 'back like a shimmering mass of velvety sable in the star -and -moon glow. Something told Carrigan she was going to turn her face in his direction, and he dropped his hand over his eyes again, leaving a space between the fingers. He was right in his guess. She fronted the moon, looking at him closely — rather anxiously, he thought. She even lean- ed a little toward him that she might see more clearly. Hhen she turned and resumed her paddling. Carrigan was a bit elated. Probab- ly she had looked at him a number of times like that durlang the past half-hour. And she was disturbed. She was worrying about him. The thought of being a murderess was be- ginning to frighten her. In spite of the beauty of her eyes and hair and the slim witchery of her body he had no sympathy for her. He told him- self that he would give a year of his life to have her down at Baracks this .minute.' He would never forget that three-quarters of an hour behind the rock, not if he lived to be a hun- dred. And if he did live, she was going to pay, even if she was lovelier than Venus and all the Graces com- bined. He felt irritated with himself that he should have observed in such a silly way the sable glow of her hair in the moonlight. And her eyes. What the deuce did prettiness matter in the present situation? The sister of Fanchet, the mail robber, was beau- tiful, but her beauty had failed to save Fanchet. The Law had taken him in spite of the tears in Carmin Fanchet's big black eyes, and in that particular instance he was the Law. And Carmin Fanchet was pretty— deucedly pretty. Even the Old Man's heart had been stirred by her loveli- ness. "A shame!” he had said to Carri- gan. "A shame!" But the rascally Fanchet was hung y the neck until he was dead. Carrigan drew himself up slowly ntil he was sitting erect. He won- ered what Jeanne Marie -Anne Bou- ain would say if he told her about Carmin. But theme was a big gulf be - wean the names Fanchet and Bou - lain. The Fanchete had come from the dance halls of Alaska. They were bad, both of them. At least, so they had judged 'Carmin Fanchet—along with her brother. And Boulain— His hand in dropping to his side, fell upon the butt of his pistol. Nei- ther Bateese nor the girl had thought of disarming him. It was careless of them, unless Bateese was keeping a good eye on him from behind A new sort of thrill crept into Car- rigan's blood. He began to see where he had made a huge error in not play- ing his part more cleverly. It was this girl Jeanne who had shot him. It was Jeanne who had stood over him in that last moment when he had made an effort to use his pistol. It was she who had tried to murder him and who had turned faint-hearted when it came to finishing the job. But his knowledge of these things he should have kept from her. Then, when the proper moment Dame, he would have been in a position to act. Even now it might be possible to cov- er his blunder. He leaned toward her again, determined to make the effort. "I want to ask your pardon," he said. "May I ?" His voice startled her. It was as if the stinging tip of a whip -lash had touched her bare neck. He was smil- ing when she turned. In her face and eyes was a relief which she made no effort to repress. "You thought I might be dead," he laughed softly. "Pm not, .Miss Jean- ne. I'm very much alive again. It was that accursed feller—and I want to ask your pardon! 1 think—II know —that I awned you of shooting me. ]It's impossible. I couldn't think of it —in my clear mind. II mm quite cure that 1[ know the raocally half-breed who pot-shotted roe like that. And it was you who came an time, And frightened him away, and caved my life. 'Mall you foams me --'-unci ae- eept my gnratltuuda4° dated October 1st, which local subscribers will receive within a few days will be accompanied by notices explaining important changes in future accounts. To simplify and eirpedite omff billing work, we have divided our exchanges into airs groups. Bach group will receive ac- counts under one of sirs dif- ferent dates. In that way the work of preparing thousands of accounts will be spread evenly over the whole month. lira future 'the accoaarapao,�IIace subscrrfbeve will be .,+.,,ted itPafi Rnvevsty-frust of each mnnrrth. You will appreciate the new form of account we are intro- ducing at the same t:,se whicie will have all the figures cleasl? printed and accurately totalled fmy maachirea. In addition, cherrgern y, 1!I bo shown right tap to the rate of he account. The plea fin enrfiafiszoi ffi®4d fly arra netts mv.. i =mam- my Octe rr Etfs re'affatb ter Ituoinesa Onto naCealt eeiPli ha plye. to 'e't ya 1 anentrachea itinasi, i a7 41>sL 1 art - GTO =are late the glo'nrbsg eyes X04 idne gati o reflection of hie own Wardle. neer red to him that he siva 1 '1,1111" J.I.: •i ✓•14.•1 , t, 'i. ° Mee de AMO Ii 012 kW mow m mew *Kw, Tzaeksialloun jg 5ecaut a,+Rvcml tim ale alIISE eIt'2Ri'rs t fimg mail emfle sztieafmaL ro - roman ¢llnz¢ sloe eamotqzelly. e¢aQ "a a AIlPo fkkurn r., PruaIlno Asia ♦fill ¢unally 66kth8 yaw Ace ea-, v...ce99 cion dice wo lldra girealefg mmuu ell szgfigaa, wad emt a ¢sinIIIIIO ?s --It Allael i o nn madly etre c fi¢Im ¢Tme it nueo. 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To moo AL oa In tense naa— i1Qn hens na, Ea to &ease iia. race go foe E_-.J 11 G ll U 1N EXPJ isy 1 JA LY T A l O SE F A V C1E .)hone102 [r� th e corners of her mouth tremble a latest trailer propped up here in the little before she answered him. center of the canoe, the prisoner of a velvety -haired but dangerously ef- ficient bit of feminine loveliness—and a bull-necked, chimpanzee -armed half breed! ,Bateese had confirmed the suspic- ion that he was a prisoner, even though this mysterious pair were bent on saving his life. Why it was their desire to keep life in him when only a few hours ago one of them had tried to kill him was a question which only the future could answer. He did not bother himself with that problem now. The present was alto- gether too interesting, aid there was - but little doubt that other develop- ments equally important were close at hand. The attitude of both Jeanne Marie -Annie Boulain and her piratical looking henchman was sufficient evi- dence of that. Bateese had threaten- ed to knock his head off, and he could have sworn that the girl—or woman—had smiled her approbation of the threat. Yet he held no grudge against Bateese. An odd sort of lik- ing for the man began to possess him, just as he found himself power- less to resist an ingrowing admiration for Marie -Ann. The existence of Black 'Roger Audemard became with him a sort of indefinite reality. Black Roger was a long way off. Marie - Anne and Bateese were very near. Hie began thinking of her as Marie - Anne. He liked the name. It was the Boulain part of it that worked in him with an irritating insistence. For the first time since the canoe journey had begun, he looked beyond the darkly glowing head and the slen- der figure in the bow. It was a splen- did night. Ahead of him the river was like a rippling sheet of molten silver. On both sides, a quarter of a mile apart, rose the walls of the for- est, like low -hung, oriental tapestries. The sky seemed near, loaded with stars, and the moon, rising with al- most perceptible movement toward the zenith, had changed from red to a mellow gold. Carrigan's soul al- ways rose to this glory of the north- ern light. Youth and vigor, he told himself, must always exist under those unpolluted lights of the upper worlds, the unspeaking things which had told him more than he had ever learned from the mouths of other men. They stood for this religion, his faith, his belief in the existence of things greater than the insignificant spark which animated his own body. He appreciated them most when there was stillness. And to -night it was still. It was so quiet that the trick- ling of the paddles was like subdued music. From the forest there came no sound. Yet he knew there was life there, wide-eyed, questing life, life that moved on velvety wing and padded foot, just as he and Marie - Anne and the half-breed Bateese were moving in the canoe. To have called out in this hour would have taken an effort, for a supreme and invisible Hand seemed to have commanded stillness upon the earth. And then there came droning upon his ears a break in the stillness, and as he listened, the shores closed slow- ly in, narrowing the channel until he saw giant masses of grey rock re- placing the thick verdure of balsam, spruce and cedar. The moaning grew louder, and the rocks climbed sky- ward until they hung in great cliffs. They were close to to Saint -Esprit Rapide—the Holy Ghost Rapids. Car- rigan was astonished. That day at noon he had believed the Holy Ghost to be twenty or thirty miles below him. Now they were at its mouth, and he pais tlhat • 'ate'ese and Jearmsie 'Marie -Anne 'oulrsin were quietly and uneueil ale^ prvatirag to 'ran that tviciouna' rtto`iieh lob? =teat ti`asonte. eieurtialy he md the 'i a`a ,ilea of the &me ' ' Ilkhanndini on the sound of AO -awlda grew Into low .€ tad I am glad you are feeling better, m'sieu." "And you will forgive me for—for saying such beastly things to you?" She was lovely when she smiled, and she was smiling at him now. "If you want to be forgiven for lying, yes," she said. "I forgive you that, because it is sometimes your business to Iie. It was I who tried to kill you, m'sieu. And you know it" "But--" "You must not talk, m'sieu. It is not good for you: Bateese, will you tell m'sieu not to talk?" Carrigan heard a movement behind him. "•M'sieu, you will stop ze talk or I brak hees head wit' ze paddle in my han'!" came the voice of Bateese close to his shoulder. "Do I mak' ze word plain so m'sieu compren'?" "I get you, old man," grunted Car- rigan, "I get you—both!" And he leaned back against his dunnage -sack, staring again at the witching slimness of the lovely Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain as she calmly re- sumed her paddling in the bow of the canoe. Y In the few minutes following the efficient and unexpected warning of Bateese an entirely new element of interest entered into the situation for David Carrigan. He had more than once assured himself that he had made a success of his profession of man - hunting not because he was brightee than the other fellow, but largely be- cause he possessed a sense of humor and no vanities to prick. He was in the game because he loved the adven- ture of it. He was loyal to his duty, but he was not a worshipper of the law, nor did he covet the small month- ly stipend of dollars and cents that came of his allegiance to it. As a member of the 'Scarlet Police, and es- pecially of "N" Division, he felt the pulse and thrill of life as he loved to live it. And the greatest of all thrills came when he was after a man as clever as himself, or cleverer. This time it was a woman—+or a girl. He had not yet made up his mind which she was. Her voice, low and musical, her poise, and the tran- quil and unexcitable loveliness of her face had made him, at first, register her as a woman. Yet as he looked at the slim girlishness of her figure in the bow of the canoe, accentuated by the soft sheen of her partly unbraid- ed hair, he wondered if she were eighteen or thirty. It would take the clear light of day to tell him. But whether a girl or a woman, she had handled him no cleverly that the un- pleasantness of his earlier experience began to give way slowly to an ad- miration for her capability. He wondered what the superintend- ent of "N" Division would say if he could see Black Roger Audernard's am E: £1 sullen thunder. In the moonlight a- head he could see the rock walls dos- ing in until the channel was crushed between two precipitous ramparts, and the moon and stars, sending their glow between those walls, lighted up a frothing path of water that made Carrigan hold his breath. He would have portaged this place even in broad day. He looked at the girl in the bow. The slender figure was a little more erect, the glowing head held a little higher. In those moments he would have liked to see her face, the won- derful something that must be in her eyes as • she rode fearlessly into the teeth of the menace ahead. For he could see that she was not afraid, but she was facing this thing with a sort of exultation, that there was some- thing about it which thrilled her until every drop of blood in her body was racing with the impetus of the stream itself. Eddies of wind puffing out from between the chasm walls tossed her loose hair about her back in a glistening veil. He saw a long strand of it trailing over the edge of the canoe into the water. It made him shiver, and he wanted to cry cut to Bateese that he was a fool for risking her life like this. He forgot that he was the one helpless individual in the canoe, and that an upset would mean the end for him, while Bateese and his companion might still fight on. His thought and his vision were focus- ed on the girl—and what lay straight ahead. A mass of froth, like a wind- row of snow, rose up before them, and the canoe plunged into it with the swiftness of a shot. It spattered in his face, and blinded him for an in- stant. Then they were out of it, and he fancied he heard a note of laughter from the girl in the bow. In the next breath he called himself a fool for imagining that. For the run was dead ahead, and the girl became rvib- rant with life, her paddle flashing in and out, while from Bateese frog -like bellows of response. The walls shot past; inundations rose and plunged under them; black rocks whipped with caps of foam raced up -stream with the speed of living things; the roar became a drowning voice, and then— as if outreached by the wings of a swifter thing—dropped suddenly be- hind them. Smoother water lay ahead. The channel broadened. Moonlight fill- ed it with a clearer radiapce, and Car- rigan saw the girl's hair glistening wet, and her arms dripping. For the first time he turned about and faced Bateese. The half-breed was grinning like a Cheshire cat! "You're confoundedly queer pair!" grunted Carrigan, and he turned a- bout again to find Jeanne Marie -Anne Boulain as unconcerned as though running the Holy Ghost Rapids in the glow of the moon was nothing more than a matter of play. It was impossible for him to keep his heart from beating a little faster Hens bothered with Lice are too busy to lay EggsTEM Val Msa wfterin — sold by all deolsra jr gteoGerigaetteorP'etallaapl otmCx-ar''lrao MATT IMOD 'a. on Canaria. ]Lad DM 04416 Ave..(Tam ar a 0, Oar. as he watched her, even though he was trying to regard her in a most professional sort of way. He reminded himself that she was an iniquitous lit- tle Jezebel who had almost murdered him. Carmin Fanchet' had been like her, an ame damnee—a fallen angel —but his .business was not sympathy in such matters as these. At the same time he could not resist the lure of ,both her audacity and her courage and he found himself all at once ask- ing himself the amazing question as to what her relationship might be to Bateese. It occurred to him rather unpleasantly that there had been something distinctly; proprietary in the way the half-breed had picked her up on the sand, and that Bateese had shown no hesitati.oe a little later in threatening to knodk his head off un- less he stopped talking to her. He wondered if Bateese was a Boulain. The two or three minutes of ex- citement in the boiling waters of the Holy Ghost had acted like medicine on Carrigan. It seemed to him that something had given way in his head, relieving him of an oppression that had been like an iron hoop drawn tightly about his skull. He did not want Bateese to suspect this change in him, and he slouched lower against the dunnage -pack with his eyes still on the girl. He was finding it in- creasingly difficult to keep from look- ing at her. She had resumed her paddling, and Bateese was putting mighty efforts in his strokes now, so that the narrow, birchbark canoe shot like an arrow with the down sweeping current of the river. ' A few hundred yards below was a twist in the chan- nel, and as the canoe rounded this, taking the shoreward curve with dizzying swiftness, a wide, still straight -water lay ahead. And far down this Carrigan saw the glow of fires. The forest had drawn back from the river, leaving in its place a brok- en tundra of rock and shale and a wide strip of black sand along the edge of the stream itself. Carrigan knew what it was—an upheaval of the tar -sand country so common still far- ther north, the beginning of that treasure of the earth which woul.l some day make the top of the Ameri- can continent one of the Eldorados of the world. The fires drew nearer, and suddenly the still night was broken by the wild chanting of men. David heard behind him a choking note in the throat of Bateese. A soft word came from the lips of the girl, and it seemed to Carrigan that her head was held higher in the moon glow. The chant increased in volume, a rhythmic throbbing, savage music that for a hundred and fifty years had come from the throats of men along the Three Rivers. It thrilled Carrigan as they bore down upon it. It was not song as civilization, an exultation of hu- man voice unchained, ebullient with the love of life, savage in its good - humor. It was le gaite de coeur of the rivermen, who thought and sang as their forefathers did in the days of Radison and good Prince Rupert; it was their merriment, their exhilara- tion, their freedom and optimism, reaching up to the farthest stars. In that song men were straining their vocal muscles, shouting to beaut out their nearest neighbor, 'bellowing like hulls in a frenzy of sudden fun. And then, as suddenly as it had risen in the night, the clamor of voices died away. A single shout came up the river. Carrigan thought he heard a low rumble of laughter. A tin pan banged against another. A dog howled. The at an oar played a tattoo for a velment on the bottom of a boat. Then one last yell frown a single throat --and the night wsm silent again. (Continued nent reel) GhrF.s St®bat 'orys i e Don't suffer from dangerous gen pressing around your heart, from sourness, bloating or pain of acid in- digestion. Stop worrying. Your stomach simply needs an alkaline. For safe, speedy, certain relief take a lit. tle Bisurated Magnesia—powder or tablets. It quickly breaks up the gas, neutralizes the acid, stops the paixa and keeps the stomach sweet and strong and digestion perfect. It is doing this every day for thousands -- it must do the same for you or money refunded by reliable druggists the world over. I It isn't the beat; it's the stupidity., —Toronto 'Saturday Night. "Condemned Man Writes Poetry. Well, a fellow who commits murder will do almost anything. — Border Cities Star. l . FIRED. 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