The Huron Expositor, 1933-04-07, Page 7r
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LEGAL
Phone No. 9l.
JOHN 3. HU $ARD
Barrister, BoHeitor,-
Natary.. ,1 blic, Ete. r
Beattie B1od - e .Seafoatt'h, OOit.
HAYS & MEIR
Succeeding R. S. Hays
Barristers, Solicitors, Conveyancers
and Notaries Puiblic. Solicitors for the
Dominion Bank. Office in rear of the
Dominion Bank, Seaforth. Money to
loan,
BEST & BEST
Barristers, Solieiters, Conveyaete
cers and Notaries Pgblic, ''etc. Office
in the Edge Building, opposite The
Expositor Office.
VETERINARY
JOHN GRIEVE, V.S.
Honor graduate of. Omltarlq Veterin-
ary College. All diseases of domestic
eundumals treated. Calls promptly at-
tended to and charges moderate. Vet-
erinary Dentistry a specialty. Office
and residence on Goderich Street, one
dear east of Dr. Mackay's office, Sea -
forth.
•
A. R. CAMPBELL, Y.S.
Graduate of Ontario Veterinary
college, University of Toronto, All
diseases of domestic animals treated
by the most Modern principles.
Charges reasonaible. Day or night
calls promptly attended to. 'Office on
Main Street, H'iensall, opposite Town
Hall. Phone 116. Breeder of Scot-
tish Terriers. Inverness Kennels,
Hensall.
MEDICAL
DR. E. J. R. FORSTER
Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat.
Graduate in Medicine, University of
Toronto.
'Late assistant' New York Opthal-
mei and Aural Institute, Moorefield's
'Eye and Golden Square Throat Hos-
pitals, London, Eng. At Commercial
Hotel, Seaforth, third Monday in
each month, from 11 a.m. to S p.m.
58 Waterloo Street, South, Stratford.
DR. W. C. SPROAT
Graduate of Faculty of Medicine,
University of Western Ontario, Lon-
don. Member of College of Physie-
-sans and Surgeons of Ontario. .Office
in Aberhart''s Drug Store, Main St.,
Seaforth. Phone 90. •
• DR. A. NEWTON-BRADY
Graduate :Dublin _Uni'versir1y, Ire.
land. Late Extern Assistant Master
Rotunda Hospital for Women and
children, Dublin. Office at -residence
lately occupied by Mrs. Parsons.
!Hours: 9 to'10 a.m., 6 to 7 p.m.;
Sundays, 1 to 2 p.m.
DR. F. J. BURROWS
Office and residence Goderleh Street,
east,of the United Church, Sea -
forth. Phone 46. Coroner for the
County of Huron.
DR. C. MACKAY
C. Mackay, honor graduate of Trin-
ity University, And gold medalist of
Trinity Medical College; t ale'mber of
the College of Physicians and Sur-
geons of Ontario. '
e
iver s
by JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
• He had no dogs oat sledge. His own
testi had given up the ghost long
ago, and a treacherous Kognrolloek
from .!the Roes Weleolme had stolen:
the 'Englishman's outfit in the' last
lap of their race down from. Fuller -
ton's Point. 'What he carried was
Coundsto i's, with the exception of
hie rifle and hie own parka arm hood.
lie even wore Conniston's watch;
His pack was light. The chief art-
icles it oonatained were a little flour,
a three -.pound tent, a sleeping beg,
and certain articles of identification
to prove the death of John Keith, the
outlaw, Hour after' hour of that
first day the zip, zip, •zip of his snow-
shoes heat with deadly monotony up-
on his brain. IHle could not think,
Time and again it seemed to . him
that sclrne'thin'g was pulling him back
and always he was hearing Connis-
ton's veiee 'and seeing Conniston's
face in' the igrayegloom of the day
about him. He passed through the
slime finger of scrub tiznlber • that a
strange freak of nature had flung
across theplain, and once more was
a moving speck in a wide and wind-
swept barren. In the afternoon he
made out a dark rim on .the southern
horizon and knew it was timber, real
tifeb'er, the first he had• seen since
that day, a 'year .and a half ago,
when the last of the Mackenzie Riv-
er forest had (faded away behind
him! It gave him, at last, something
tangible to grip. et warts a thing
beckoning to him, a sentient, living
wall .beyond' which viae his other
world. The • 'eight hundred • . miles
rmeant less to him than the space be-
tween himiself And that growing
(black rim on the horizon.
He reached it as the twilight of
the day was dissolving into the deep-
er disk of the. night, and put up his
tent in the ,shelter of a clump of
gnarled and stormebeaten spruce.
Then he gathered wood and built
'himself a fire. He did' not count the
'sticks as he had counted them for
eighteen 'months. He was wasteful,
prodigal. He had travelled forty
mules since morning but he felt no
exhaustion. He gathered' wood until'
he' had. a 'great .pile of. it; and the
flames of his fire leaped higher and
'higher until the spruce needles
crackled and hissed over his head.
He 'boiled a pot of weak tea and
made a supper of caribou meat and
a bit of bannock. Then he sat with
hie back to a tree and stared into
the flames.
The 'hie .leaping and craekiin•g be-
fore his eyes was like a powerful
needicine. It stirred things that had•
lain dormant within him.. et consum'-
edi the heavy dross of four years of
stupefying torture and (brought back
to
him (vividly the happenings of a
yesterday that had dragged itself on
like a.eentury. .Ai1 'at.once he seem-
ed. Unburdened of shaokles that had
weighted him down to the point of
madness. 'Every !fiber in his body re-
sponded to that glorious roar of the
fire; a thing seemed to .Harp in his
beady freeing it of an oppressive
!bondage; and in the heart of the
flaimaes he saw home, and hope, and
life -the things familiar, and precious
long ;ago, w'hic'h the scourge of the
north had almost beaten dead in his
memory. He saw the bread, Sas-
katchewan 'ihirmlmerinag its way
through ,the yellow plains, banked in
by the - foothills and the golden mists
of morning drawn; he saw his hgme
town clinging to its shore ' on one
side and with its back against the
purple wilderness on 'th'e other; he
heard the rhythmic chug, chug, chug
of the old gold dredge and the rattle
of its chains as it devoured. its tons
of sand for a few grains of treasure;
overs 'him there were lacy clouds in a
blue heaven again, he heard the
sound of voices, the tread of feet,
laughter -life. His' soul reborn, he
rove to his feet and stretched 'his
arms until the muscles snapped. No,
they would not know hint 'back there
-now! • He . laughed softly as he
thought of the old Jahn Keith -
"Johnny" they used to call him up
and down the few balsam scented
streets --his father's righthand man
mentally lout a little off feed, es his
chum, Reddy 'McTah'b, used V say,
when it came to the matter of muscle
and brawn. ' He could look 'back on
things without excitement now. Even
hatred' had burned itself out, and he
found hernself wondering if oId Judge
Kirk"stone's house looked the same on
the tap of the hill, and if 'Miriam
Kirk'stone had come back to live
there after that terrible night when
he had !'(:turned to avenge his
father. Four years- It was riot so
,very long, • though the years had
seemed like a life time to him". There
would not be many changes. Every-
thing would be the same -every-
thing -except -the old home. That
home he and hie 'father had ,planned
an•S1 they had overseen the building
of it, a chateau of logs a little dis-
tance from the town, with the Sas-
katchewan sweeping below it and the
forest 'at its doors. Masterless, it
must have seen changes in ' those
four years.
Furtvbliri in his pocket, 'his fingers
touched Conniston's watch. He drew
Graduate Royal College of Dental it out 'and let the firelight play on.
'Surgeons, Toronto. Office over W. R. the open dial. It •was tee o'clock. In
Smith's Grocery, Main Street, Sea- the back of the premier half of the
forth. Phone: Office, 186 W; regi- case Conniston had at some time or
dente, 185 J. another pasted a 'pieiture. It must
shave 'been a long time ago, for the
face was faded and indistinct. The'
eyes alone were unditnmed, and in
the flash of tee fire *they tool: on a
ltvirug glow as they looked at Keith
St was the face of a young girl -a.
.schoolgirl, Keith thought, of ten or
twelve. Yet the eyes seemed older,
they :seemed pleading with Someone,
•speaking a rmessage that had come
'spontaneously out of the soul of the
child. Keith closed the watch. Its
tick, tick, tide rose louder to his ears
Ile dropped it in his pocket. Ile
.cotild-etiil hear it.
DR. IL HUGH ROSS ,
Graduate of University of Toronto
Faculty of Medicine, mewiber of .Col-
lege of Physicians and Surgeons of
Ontario; pass graduate courses in
Chicago Clinical School of Chicago;
Royal Oplhithalmio Hospital, London,
England; University Hospital, Lon-
don, England. Oft3ce--Back of Do-
minion Bank, ,Seaforbh. Phone No. 5.
Night calls answered' from residence,
,Victoria Street, -Seaforth.
DR. S. R. COLLYER
(Graduate Faculty of Medicine, Uni-,
varsity of Western Ontario. Member
College of Physicians and Surgeons
pf Ontario. Post graduate work at
New York City Hospital and Victoria
Hospital, London. Phone: Hensall,
56. Office, King Street, Hensall.
A. MUNN
Graduate of Northwestern U•ni'v'er's-
ityy. Chicago, 1]i. Licentiate Royal
College of Dental 'Surgeons, Toronto.
Office over Sills' Hardware; Main St.,
Seaforth. Phone 151.
DR, F. J. BECHELY
• 'A pntc'h-ifill'ed spruce knot exploded
with the startling vividness of a star
'bomb, and with it came a dell sort
of ,mental' shook to Keith. He was
sure that for an instant he had seen
Conniston's face and that the Eng-
lishman's eyes were looking at him
as the eyes• had looked at him out of
the face in the watch. The deceptio
wisus was .so real that it : sent him
back a step, staring, and then, his
eyes striving to catch the illusion a-
gain, there fell upon .him- a realiza-
tion of the tremendous strain he had
been under for many hours. It had
been days sirice he had •slept sound-
ly. Yet he was net sleepy now; he
scarcely felt t'atigue. The instinct
of self-preservation made him ar-
range his sleeping bag on a carpet
of spruce boughs in the tent and go
to b+.d. '
Even then, for a long time, he lay
in the grip of a harrowing wakeful-
ness. 'He closed his eye's, but it was
imip•oLssilbmle for him; to hold them
closed. The sounds of the night
carne to him with- painful distinct-
ness uhe crackling of the fire, the
serpent -like 'hiss of the' tiamiug
piteh, the whispering of the tree
tops, ane the steady tick, tick,. tick
o: Conniston's watch. And. out on
the !:amen, through the rim of shel-
tering trees, the wind was be•ginnitrg
to moan its everlasting whimper and
sclb of loneliness. ' In spite of his
clenched hands and his fighting de-
termination to hold it off, Keith fan-
cied that he heard again - riding
strangely in that wind the sound of
Conniston's voice. And ' Gnlddenly he
asked himself: What did it mean?
What was it that Conniston had ;'or-
gottari? eWlhat was it that Conniston
had"Ibe•ert trying to tell him all that
day, when he had felt the presence
of him in the gloom, of tee Barrens?
Was it. that Conniston wanted hen to
come back?
He tried to rid himself of the •de -
•pressing insistence of that thole -ht.
And yet he was certain that in the
last half-hour before death entered
the cabin the Englishman had want-
ed to 'tell 'him something and had
crucified the desire. There was the,
triumph of an .iron courage in those
last words, "Rememlberr,..old chap, you
win or lose the moment !McDowell
first sets his eyes on 'you!"--ebut in
the next instant, as death sent home
its thrust, Keith had caught a glimpse
of !Conniston's naked soul, and in that
final moment 'when speech ,peas gone
forever, he 'knew that Conniston was
fighting to Make his lips utter words
which he had left unspoken until too
late. And Keith, listening to ' the
moaning of the wind and the crack-
ling of the fire, found himself re-
peating over and over •aigain, ." What
was it he, wanted. to says?"
In a lull, in the- wind Conniston's
watch seethed to beat like a heart
in its case, and swiftly its tick: tick,.
ticked to his ears an ,.answer, "Corieei-.
back, come 'back, come back!"
With a cry at his own pitiable
wealfnes's. Keith thrust the thing far
under his sleeping 'ba'g and there its
sound was smothered: At last sleep
overcame him like a. restless an-
ethesia. • •
With the break of another day he
came out of 'his tont and stirred the
fire. There were still bits of burn-
ing ember, and these he. fanned into
life and added to their flame fresh
fuel. He could not easily- forget lase
night's torture, but itis significance
was gone. He laughed at his own
folly and wondered what Conniston
himself would have thought of his
nervousness. For the first time in
years he thought of the old days
down at college w'h'ere, among -other
things he had made a mark for him-
self in psyeh•ology. 'He had consid•
ered .himself an expert in the discus-
sion and understanding of phenom-
ena of the mind. Afterward he had
lived up to the mark and, had pro-
fi't'ed by his beliefs, and the fact that
a simple relaxation of his mental
machinery had so disturbed him fast
night amused hien now. The solu-
tion was easy. It was 'his mina
struggling to •equili'briulnal;,„after four
years of brain -fag. And he felt bet-
t,er. His (brain was clearer..,4He lis-
tened to the watch and, found its
ticking natural. He braced himself
to another effort and 'whistled as he
•prepared his 'breakfast.
After that he packed his dunnage
and continued south. Hs wondered
if Conniston ever knew his Manual
as he learned it now. At the end of
the sixth day he 'could 'repeat it from
cover to cover. Every hour ,he made
it a practice to stop short and salute
the trees about hien. McDowell
Would not catch him there.
"°I am De•twvent. Conniston," he`kept
telling 'hipiself. "John Keith is 'dead
-dead. I 'buried him back there un-
eer the cabin, -the cabin 'built by
Sergeant Trossy and his patrol in
nineteen hundred and eight. My, name
is
Conniston-Derwent Germiston."
'In his years of aloneness he . had
grown into the habit of talking to
himself -or with himself -to keele
up his courage' and sanity. "Keith,
old bay,. we've got to fight it out,"
'he would say. Now it was, "Connis-
ton, old chap, we'll win or die." Af-
ter the third day, he never spoke of
Jahn Keith except as a man who was
dead. And over the dead John Keith
he spread 'Conniston's mantle. "John
Keith died game, sir;" he said to
McDowell, who was a tree.,, "He was
the finest chap I ever knew."
On this sixth day came the mir-.
acle. For the first time in many
months John Keith saw the sun. He •
had seen the murky glow of it be-
fore this, fighting• 'to break bhrough
the pall of fog and haze that hung
over the Barrens, but this sixth d'ay
it was the sun, the real sun, burst -
deg in all its .glory for a short apace
over the northern world. Each day
after this the sun was nearer and
wanner, as the arctic vapor e'loude
AUCTIONEERS
OSCAR KLOPP
Honor Gtraduiate Carey Jones' Na-
tional School for Auet ioneerin.g, Chi-
cago. Special course taken in Pure
Bred Live 'Steck, Real Estate, Mer-
chandise and Farm sales. 'Rates' in
keeping with )prevailing 7n ts, Sat-
isfaction assured. Write or wire,
Osear Klopp, Zurich; Onit. Phone t
liar -'93.
vziss. w4uR+ 9 9rtAA. 1
it
and frost smoke reeve left farther
behind, and not until he had passed
beyond the ice fogs entirely did Keith
swing eastward. He did not hurry
for now that he was out of his pris-
on, he wanted time in which to Heel
the first exhilarratirUg thrill of his
freedom. And more than all else he
knees that he must measure and test
himself for the tremendous• fight a-
head of him.
Now that the sun and the blue
sky had cleared his brain, he saw
the hundred pitfalls in his way, the
hundred little slips that imight be
made, the hundred• traps waiting for
any chance blunder on his part. De-
liberately he was on his way to the
hangman, • Down there -.every day of
his life -he 'would rub elbows with
him as he passed his fellow men in
the street: He would never com-
pletely feel himself out of the +pres-
enee of death. Day and night he
must watch hinilsellf and guard him-
self, his tongue, his feet, his thoughts,
never knowing in what hour the eyes
of the law would • pierce the veneer
of his disguise and deliver his life
as the forfeit. There were times
when the contemplation of these
things appalled' hen, and his., mind
turned to other channels of escape.
And then -always -he heard Conies -
ton's cool, fighting voare, and the red
blood fired up in his veins, and he
faced home.
He was Derwent Conniston. • And.
never for an hour could he put out
of his mind the .one great mystify-
ing question in this adventure of life
and .death, who was Derwent Connis-
ton? Shred by shred he pierced to-
gether what little he knew, and al-
ways he • arrived• at the sani'e futile
end. An Englishman, dead to his
family if he had one, an outcast or
an expatriate -and the finest, brav-
est gentleman he had ever known. It
was the whyfore of these things that
stirred within him an emotion. 'which
he had never experienced before.
The Englishman had grimly and de-
terminedly taken his secret to the
grave'with him. •To•hien, John Keith
-who rwas now Derwent Conniston
-the .had left an heritage of deep
mystery and the mission, if he so
chose, of discovering who he was,
whence he had come -and why. Of-
ten he looked at the young girl's pic-
ture in the, watch and always be saw
in her eyes 'Something which made
him think of Conniston as he lay in
the last hour of his life. Undoubted-
ly the girl had grown! into a woman
now.
(Days grew into weeks, and under
Keith's feet the wet, sweet srnellieg
earth rose up through the last of the
slush snow. ' Three hundred miles be-
low the Barrens, he was in the Rein-
deer Lake country early in .May. For
a week he rested at a trapper's cabin
on the Burntw•ood, and after that set
out -.for Culmberland Howse. Ten
days later be arrived at the post, and
in the sunlit glow of the second ev-
ening afterward he built• his camp-
fire on the shore of the' yellow 'Sas-
katchewan.
The• mighty river, beloved from
the days of his boyhood; sang to him
again, that night, the wonderful
things that time and grief had dim-
med in his 'heart. The moon rose ov-
er it, a. warm wind drifted out of
the south, and Keith,' smoking his
pipe, sat for a long time listening
teethe soft mnrrimtur of it as it rolled.
past at his feet. For him it had 'al-
ways been more than the rivet He
had grown up with it, and it had
!become a part of him; it had mother-
ed his earliest dreams and ambitions
--on it he had sought his first adven-
tures; it had been his chum, his
friend, and his•comr•ade, and the fan-
cy struck him that in the murluuring
voice of it to=night there was a glad-
ness, a welcome, ,an exultation in his
return. He looked, out on its silvea-y
bars shinilmering in the moonlight,
and a flood of memories swept upon
him. Thirty years was not so long
ago that he could not remember the
beautiful mother who had told him
stories as the sun went down and
bedtime drew near. And vividly
there stood out the 'wonderful . tales
of Kistachiwun, the river; how it
was born away over in the mystery
of the western mountains, away from
the eyes and feet 6f men; how it
came down from the mountains into
the hills, 'and through the hills into
the plains, broadening and deepening
and growing mightier with every
mile, until at last it -wept past their
door, bearing with it the golden
grains of sand that made men rich.
His father had pointed out the deep-
!beaten- trails of 'buffalo to him and
'had told him stories, of the Indians
and of the land before white men
came, so that between ,father and
mother the river became his book of
fables, his, wonderland) .the never-
ending source of hip treasured. tales
of childhood: ,And tonight the river
was the bne, thing lei t to him. It was
the one friend he could claim, Fain,
the one comrade he could open his
wires to without far of betrayal.
And with the' griof for things that
once had lived and were now dead,
there came over him a strange sort
of happiness,.the spirit of the great
river i•teelf giving hint 'consolation.
iU"s-'riP,7Ni
ll
1(
3'. plc rI"na tea,
tide! I've' eenl'e ll itee
Mid the river !wiieeaex'aslg, 4
tp arisWes hinu 4.10e Jahnlna
Mi4 's come 00101 Hees twit;
r
, IV
'Fier a week John Keith followed up
the shores of,, thfJh. Sasicateliewane xk
was a hundred and forty miles from
'the IHludson's Bay C'ommpany'Is pest pf
Ounriberland House to I'i^ince Albert
as the crow would fly, but Keith did
not..travel a homing line; Only now
end then did he take advantage of a
portage trail. Clinging to the river,
his journey was lengthened by some
sixty miles. Now, that the hoer for
which Conniston had prepared hien
was so close at 'hand, he felt the
need of this mighty, tongueless friend
that had played such an intimate
part in his life. It gave to him both
courage and confidence, and in its
company he could think more clearly.
Nights he camped on its golden -yel-
low bars with the -.open stars over
his head when he slept; his ears
drank in the familiar .'bums of long
ago, for Which he had yearned to the
.point of madness in his exile - the
soft cries, of the birds that hunted
and mated; in the glow of the moon,
the friendly twit, twit, twit of the
low-flying sand -pipers, the hoot of
the owls, • and the splash and sleepy
voice of wild fowl already on their
way up from the South. Out of that
south, where in places the ' plains
swept the forest 'back almost to the
river's edge, he heard now and then
the doglike barking of his little yel-
low friends . of (many an exciting
horseback chase, the coyotes, and on
the wilderness side, deep. in the for-
est, the sinister howling of wolves.
He was travelling, literally, the nar-
row pathway between two worlds.
The river was that pathway. On the
one hand, not so very far away,
were the rolling prairies, green fields
of grain, settlements' and towns and
the homes of even; on the other the
wilderness lay to the water's edge
with its doors still open to him. The
seiven'bh day a new sound came to his
ears at dawn. It was the whistle of
a train at Prince Albert.
There was no change in that whis-
tle,
histle, and every nerve -string in his
Ibod'y responded to it with a crying
thrill. bt was the first voice to greet,
his home -coming, and the sound of
it rolled the • yesterdays .back upon
him in a deluge. HekneW where he
was now; he recalled exactly what
he would find at the" next turn in
the river. A few minutes later he
heard the wheezy, •chug, chug, chug
of the old gold dredge at •:'McCoffrn's
Bend. It would he the Betty M., of
coarse, with old Andy Duggan ,at the
windlass, .his black pipe in mouth,
still scooping up the ..shifting sands
as he had scooped them up for more
than twenty years; He could 'see
Andy sitting at his post, clouded in
a halo of tobacco smoke, a red -beard-
ed, shaggy -headed giant of a• man
whom the town affectionately called.
the River Pirate. All his life Andy
had spent in 'digging gold out of the
mountains or the river, and like grim
death he., had hung to the bars above
and below McCoffin's Bend. Keith
.smiled as he rememibered. old Andy's
passion for bacon. One could always
find the perfume of bacon afbotnt the
'Betty M., and when Duggareavent to
town, there were those who swore
they could smell it in his whiskers.
Keith left the river trail now for
the old logging road. In spite of his
long fight to steel himself for what
Germiston had called the "psycholo-
gical moment," he felt himself' in the
grip of' an uncomfortable mental ex-
citement. At last he was face to
faee with the great gamble. In a
few hours he would .play his one
card. If he won, "there was life a-
head of him again, if he lost -death.
The old question which be had strug-
gled to down surged upon him: Was
it worth, the chance? Was it in an
hour of madness that he and Connis-
tbn had pledged themselves to this
amazing adventure? The forest was
still with him!. He could turn .back.
The :game had not yet gone so far
that he could not withdraw his hand
-and for :a space a powerful impulse
moved him. And `then, coming sud-
denly to the edge of the clearing at
efeCofn's Bend, he saw the dredge
close inshore, and striding up from
the 'beach Andy Duggan himself! In
another moment Keith had stepped
forth and was holding up a hand, in
greeting.
He felt his heart thumping ie an
unfamiliar way as Duggan came 'nn.
Was ie conceivable that the riverman
would not recognize him? He for-
got his heard, forgot the great
change that four years had wrought
in him. He remembered only that
Duggan. had been his friend. that a
hundred times they hat sat together
in the quiet glow of long evening's,
telling tales of the great river they
both loved. And always Duggan's
stories had been of that mystic para-
dise hidden away in the western
mountains: ---the river's end, the par-
adise of golden lure, where the Sas-
katchewan was born amid towering
p,aks, and where Duggan -a long
time :Igo -had quested for the tree-
-sure which he' knew was hidden
-•omewhere there. Four years had
not changed Duggan. If anything
his beard was redder and thicker ane
his hair shaggier than when Keith
had last seen him. And then, fol-
lowing 'hi i from the. Betsy M., Keith
caught the everlasting scent of bac-
on. He devoured it in deep breaths
His soul cried. out for it. Once he
had grown tired of Duggan's bacon
hut now h•0 felt that he could go on
eating it forever. As Duggan ad-
vanced, he was moved by a tremen
dous desire to stretch out, his. hand
and say: "I'm John Keith. Don'
you know me, Duggan?" Instead, he
rhoke.l 'hack his desire and " said,
"Fine morning!"
Duggan nodded uncertainly. He
was evidently puzzled at not being
able to place his man.. rIt's always
fine on the river, • rain 'r shine. Any-
body who says it ain't is a God
A'mighty liar!"
• ffile was still the old Duggan, ready
to fight for his river at the drop of a
hat! Keith wanted to hug him. He
shifted his park and said:
"I've slept with it for a week -just
to have it for company -on the way
down from- Guxnberland House. Seems
Had To Give Up The
Best Job He Ever Had
Maillardville, 11. O. -Victor L'Ev-
epue, of this city, recently said: "A
year ago I had to give up the best
job I ever had on account of poor
health. Stomach trouble, rheumatic
pains, headaches and constipation
had me just about past going. It's
simply amazing the way 4 bottles
of Sargon and 2 bottles of Sal-gon
Pills overcame all nay troubles. I
feel ae well and strong as 1 ever did
in my life."
iC. AlBER11AR1T
oiled Not
cess win H o,
se sts you no
lose .., Act now! e
small, old or new; we
Clip for future reference.
NO COLLECTION,
UNITED CREDIT. W t f?
Branckiee Every^ar111ere
OWEN SOUND BRANCH . 9a
•
good to get back!" He took off his
hat and meet the riverman's eyes
'squarely: "Do you •happen,, -to know
if McDowell is at • barracks?" he
asked. -
"He is,"said Duggan..
That was all. He .was looking at
Keith with a, curious eirectnes's.
Keith held 'his• breath. He would
have givep a good deal to have seen
behihd •Duggan's beard. There was a
hard note in the riverman's voice,
too. It puzzled hem. And there was
a flash. of sullen fire in his eyes at
the mention of Mc'Dowell's name.
"The Inspector's., there - stain'
Liget," he added, and to Keith's am-
azement brushed past him without
another word and disappeared into
the bush. -
This, at least, was not like the
good-humored Duggan of four years
ago. Keith replaced his hat and
went on. At the farther side of the
clearing •he turned and looked back.
1)' ggan stood in the open , roadway,
his hands thrust deep in his pockets,
staring after him. Keith wave: his
hrrd, but Duggan did rfOt respond.
fie stood like a sphinx, his big red
beard glowing in th- early am, and
watched Keith until he was goes.
Keith this ..first experiment in
the: mstter of .testing an identity was
a disappointment. It was• not only
disappointing but filled him with ap-
prehension. It was true that Dug •
gan had not recognized him as John
Keith, brit neither had he recognized
him as Derwent Conniston! And,
Duggan was not a man to forget in
three or four' years -or half a life-
time, for that matter. He saw' him-
self facing a new • and unexpected
situation. What if McDowell, like
Duggan, saw in him nothing more
than a stranger? The Englishman's
last words pounded in his head again
like little fists beating home a truth,
"You win or lose the moment Mc-
Dowell first 'sets his eyes on you."
They pressed upon him now with a
deadly significance. For the first''
time he understood all that Connis-
ton had meant; His danger was ,not
alone in the 'possibility of being're-
cognized as John Keith; it lay also
in the hazard of not being 'recogniz-
ed as 'Derwent Conniston.
If the thought had come •to hire
to turn back, if the voice of fear and
a 'premonition of impending evil : had
urged'lIbnit to seek fre'ed'om in another
direction, their whispered • Cautions
were futile in the thrill of the great-
er excitement .that possessed him
now. That there was, a third hand
playing in this game of chance in
which Conniston had already lost his
life, and in which he was now stait4,
ing his own, was something which
gave to Keit!). a new and entirely un=
looked for desire to see the end of
the adventure. ' The''mental vision of
his own certain fate, should be lose,
dissolved into a nebulous presence
that no longer oppreesed' nor appal-
led him. Physical instinct to fight
against odds, the inspiration that
presages the uncertainty of battle,
fired his fblood with an exhilarating
eagerness. He was anxious to stand
face to face with McDowell. Not
until then would the real fight begin.
For the first time the fact seized up-
on him that the Englishman was
wrong he would not win or lose in
the first moment of the Inspector's
scrutiny. In that moment he could
lose-1McDowell's cleverly • trained
eyes might detect the fraud; but to
win if the game was not lost at the
first shot, (meant an excitin•' strug-
gle. To -day might be his Armaged-
don, 'but it could not possess the hour
of his final triumph.
IHe felt himself now like a warrior
held in leash within sound of the
enenin-'s ' guns and the smell of his
powder. He held his old world to be
his enemy, for civilization meant 'peo-
ple, and the people were the law -
and the law wanted his life. Never
had ho possessed a deeper hatred far
the oltl code of an eye for an eye and
a tooth for a tooth than in this hour
when he saw up the valley a gray
mist of smoke rising over the roofs
of his hone town. He had nev01' con-
ceded within himself that he was. a
criminal: He believed that in killing
Kirkstone he had killed •a serpent
who .had deserved to die. an da hun-
dred three lir had told himstlf that
the Joh would have Amen much -more
satisfactory from the view -point of
human sanitation if he, had sent the
son in the father's footsteps. He
had riot the people of a man not fit
live -and the people wanted to kill
hint for it. Therefore the men and
women in that town he had once lov-
ed, and still loved, were his enemies,
and to find friends among them again
he was compelled to perpetrate a
clPrer fraud.
•
' (Continued next week.)
J9.
More Prizes Offered '
•• For Cake Til 4' :ibis
February, Winners Announced.
iSixty-three Canadian homes were •
snlade richer reticently in ansinnit+e
varying from $10 to $'2150 when the-;
results of the F'eleruary 1bfagio
berry Cake 'Oantest were announced
and cheques for the prize money foie
wiarded to the lucky prize winners.•lby•
the manufacturers of that well known
household product, Magic Baking, .
Powder. • .
First prize of $260 was' won, b9:
Mrs. Joe Kent, at. R. N•o, 2, Till'son.-
bui'g, "Ont., with the niame `Vheoeolabe ' •
Economvystie." Second prize of $100
went to Miss - Florida` Tessier Garthby .
.Station, P.Q.; the $'50 • third prize to •
IMJrs. R. Strang, Winnipeg, Man. Win-
ners in the Dominion and practically
every comlmunity in the -whole coun-
try contributed names to make up.
the huge total of 60',000 entries •sub-:
rutted to the judges. •
Two hundred and' fifty dollars is
big money in times like these and
yet it is within the power of some-
one in. this district to receive a
cheque for this almlaunit •iby simply
suggesting a good ramie for a cake.
This week on page six the announce-
ment of the fourth 'Magic Mystery
Cake Contest together with full de-
tails of the contest appears. The
recipe for the unnamed cake featur-
ed sounded, so good that we feel sure
more than one Seaforbh housewife
has already sprung a pleasant' -.Sur-
prise on the family by baking 'and
serving this Mystery Cake to them;
others will be making it in the near
future. And after it has been tasted
surely some anemllner of , the family..
will be aible to think ,up a name which.
will bring then a .cheque for . the
grated $250 prize, or one of the'• o Cher •
62• cash prizes offered. It costs noth-
ing to try, so why not participate!?
The ox -eye daisy is the most ser-
ious impurity in timothy Seed.
Alfalfa is able to live for thi'ty
:^cars or more tinier fav( cable condi-
(iarms.
Practically any wild grass will
serve, in one stage or another, as
food for stock.
iLll grain feed for poultry should
be ground as finely as possible.
Stock poisoning from local lark-
t-purs is reported on farms west of
Edmonton, Alta.
The people of Canada consume 85
per cent, of the beef produced in the
Dominion.
•
BUILT ITS REPUTATION
ON CLEANLINESS
ALWAYS HAS BEEN. HIGH CLASS,
QUIET, COMFORTABLE,- SPOTLESSLY -
CLEAN AND MODERN IN EVERY
DETAIL.
HAS ONE OF THE FINEST DiNING ROOMS
IN ,CANADA; YOU WILL ENJOY THE
TASTY INEXPENSIVE FOOD.
From Depot or Wharf
take De Luxe Taxi 25c
Rates &t
S1.5oto.3.00
Double S3A0 to S5A0
E R POWELL, Pat.
HOTEL WAVERLEY
Spading Avenue and College Street
♦ Writs for /older i
LONDON AND WINGHAM
South. ,
•
Wingham.
Belgrave
Blyth
pin.
1.55
2.11
' 2.23 •
Londesboro2.30
Clinton5.08^
Brucefield • 3.27
Kipper • 3.35
Hensall 3.41
Exeter 3.55
North.
Exeter
Hensall
Kippen
Brucefrel d
Clinton
Londes'boro
Blyth
I3elgrave
Wi nghan
Goderich
Clinton
Seaforth
Dublin
Mitchell
Dublin
Seaforth
Clinton
Goderich
West.
a.m.
6.45
7.03
7.22
7.33
7.42
11.19
11.34
11.50
12.10
C. P. R. TIME TABLE
East.
a.m.
10.42
10.56
11.01
11.09
11.54
12.10
12.19
12.30
12.50
p.rrr.
2.30
3.00
3.18
3.31
0.43
9.32
9.45
9.59
10.25
a.m.
God., ... 5.50
l
Menset 5.55
McGaw 6.04
Auburn 6.11
Blyth 6.25
Walton ....... 6.0
McNaught ... 6.52
Toronto 10.23
West.
Toronto
McNaught
Walton
tlyth
Auburn
McGaw
Menset
Goderich
S.M.
7.40
11.43
12.01 ,
12.12
12.23
-- 12.84
12,41
11.4+