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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 06, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-06-06/ed-1/seq-18/

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By H. M. Egbert
Jean Minguys heart was beating
fast as he came within sight of old
Baptiste's cabin on "the Peace River.
He spurred his horse, and it broke
into a canter across the snow.
Though the ground was still white,
spring was in the air, and spring was
in the heart of Jean Minguy, for he
Fired Again,-and Again.
was riding to see his sweetheart, Nan
ette, old Baptiste's daughter. They
had been engaged eight months, ever
since Jean's last visit 'to the cabin in
the early fall.
Now he had amassed a pile of rich
furs, which he would exchange for
gold in plenty at the trading store.
But first he must see Nanette and get
her to fix the wedding day.
He had left his furs in his cabin
and had ridden 200 miles to see her,
and he bad ridden so eagerly that he
had not even turned the dozen miles
out of his course that were necessary
for him to meet his old friend, Pierre
Old Baptiste came to the door and
laid a hand upon his horse's bridle.
"You have come for Nanette?" he
quavered. He was very old and al
ready in his dotage.
"Where is she?" demanded Jean,
feeling his heart hammering within
his breast , '
"Haven't you heard?" cried the old
man. "She left here with Dufour this
morning "
A fiery mist swam before Jean's
eyes. Pierre Dufour! The two men
had been friends for many a year, and
Jean had known that Pierre was in
love with Nanette. But the girl had
plighted herself to him, and he had
hardly thought of Dufour in the ec
stacy of happy anticipations.
He had been so proud of her, his
beautiful bride-to-be, with her dark
hair and eyes. One more season in
the north, and then, if luck was with
him, he had intended to take her
south to civilization, and the perils
and hardships of the wilds wpuld be
a thing of the past
Jean Minguy pulled up his horse
"Listen!" the old man began, catch
ing at the bridle again. .
But Jean Minguy was already spur
ring his horse back along the trail,
paying no attention to old Baptiste's
shouts. Only a single thought was in
his mind to kill the false friend who
had betrayed him.
Dufour's cabin lay at the junction
of the Peace and St. Paul, a small
tributary stream, 40 miles back, and
some 12 miles off the route along
which he had come. There was his
cabin that was the trapping district
which Dufour had marked off for his
own. Jean had visited there in the
days before they had ever thought of
Nanette, save as a shy girl of 14 or
15, and they had spent many a long
evening together, smoking, silent
happy in each other's company.
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