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LORDS OF THE NORTH '4t'"'- A ■ •A f': Story of the : 'Trap-'! /skf A ifW- ,Jft pers and Pioneers of jaKaw^^^iigg^^g V**the Great Northwest. Bl By A. C. LAUT. 9k jk,, Copyright 1900. SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. A story of the pioneers and trappers in the Canadian northwest in the early days of the past century. Rufus Gillespie, a trader and clerk for the Northwest company, is telling his experiences and adventures. The story opens at Quebec. Gillespie, a lad of 18, is waiting in a club for his friend, Eric Hamilton, a trader with the Hudson Bay company. A number of old traders and army officers are gathered at the club, among whom were Jack MacKemie, uncle of Rufus, and Colonel Adderly. Hamilton had been married only a year or so, and on arriving at the club late, was quizzed for his tardiness by the colonel, whom he struck with a whip. It develops that Hamil ton, on returning home early that evening, could find no trace of his wife or child. He is sharply questioned by Gillespie, and it is surmised that they were abducted by Indians, oue of whom, La Grande Diable, had a grudge against Hamilton. A visit is paid to the deserted camping ground of the Indians and traces are found of the missing ones. A stvtie snowstorm prevents a further search for three days, when the search parties are sent out in different directions. Gillespie secures the services of Paul Larocque, an old guide, who leads him through the woods to the camp of some Indians and vagabond white trappers. Among them he is surprised to find Louis Laplante, a school mate. With the latter's assistance he makes a search of the tents, but finds no trace of woman or child. He is told that a tent standing apart from the others sheltered a_ smallpox patient. Having doubts of Laplante's honesty, he returns by a roundabout" way to the single tent, but is warned away. A month passes, but no trace. Again he visits the renegade's camp to drown his suspicions, and has pointed out to him a mound, the grave of the smallpox victim. Onoe more he visits the camp, finds it deserted, and, digging into the mound, discovered only a cache of provisions, thus verifying his suspicions. Gillespie secures a commission in the Northwest company, and in the spring goes with the voyageurs on their annual trip to the head of Lake Superior. Hamilton at taches himself to the brigade of Colin Robertson, a former Nor'wester, but now in the employ of the Hudson Bay company, which leaves for Red river settlement by way of Ottawa and the Sault. They hope thereby to find some trace of the renegades who hare gone north. Forced to camp at Lake Niplssing because of a storm, Gillespie discovers Laplante in an Indian camp, half drunk. He is filled with liquor by a trader and confesses that Le Grande Diable stole Hamilton's wife. Gille&pie later finds this Indian among his crew, and that he was in search of his wife, the daughter of a Sioux chief. Diable also makes an attempt to kill Gillespie. Arriving at Fort Williams, the annual general assembly of the Nor'westers is held, and Gilleepie is appointed to the Red river department, under Duncan Cameron. He also sees^the daughter^ a set tler, to whom he is greatly attached. At the annual banquet, he learns that Robertson's brigade passes that night, and resolves to communicate with Eric Hamilton in some way. Father Holland tells of seeing a white squaw and a baby in an Indian camp on Lake Winnipeg, and Gillespie believes It was Miriam. With the assistance of the priest and the unexpected aid of the girl, who had been given tie name of "Little Statue," a boat is secured and the Hudson Bay brigade intercepted. Hamilton had already passed,'however, but a message is sent forward. They are shadowed by an Indian canoe, and next it Is learned Diable had deserted. The Red river brigade then starts for the north, the girl accompanying It with her father. Her presence has a refining influence on the rough trappers and voyageurs. CHAPTER X.—MORE STUDIES IN STATU- V. ■.-. V-'j'. ■ ARY. y ,: . "So he laughs at our warrant?" exclaimed Duncan Cameron. "Hut-tut! We'll teach him to respect warrants .Issued under authority of forty-third King George III.," and the dic tator of Fort Gibraltar fussed angrily among the-papers of his desk and beat a threaten ing; tattoo with knuckles and heels. The Assiniboine enters the Red at some thing like a right angle and in this angle was the Nor 1 westers*. fort, named after an old-world :'.stronghold, because we imagined our position gave us the same command of the two waterways by which the voyageurs entered and left the north country as Gibral tar hai| of tho Mediterranean. Governor Mc- Douell had thought to outwit, us by building the Hudson's Bay fort a mile further down the current of the Red. It was a sharp trick; for^ Fort Douglas could intercept Nor-west brigades bound from Montreal to Fort Gibral tar, or from Fort Gibraltar to the Atha basca. Two days after our arrival, Cuthbert Grant, with a band of Bois-Brules, had gone to Fort Douglas- to arrest Captain Miles McDonell for plundering Nor'west posts. The doughty governor took Grant's warrant as a joke and. scornfully turned 'the whole North west party out of Fort Douglas. On the stockades * outside- were . proclamations com manding "settlers to take up arms i-u defense of the Hudson's Bay traders and forbidding natives to sell furs to any but our rivals. These things added fuel to the hot anger of the chafing Bois-Brules. A curious race were these mongrel plain-rangers, with all the •avage instincts of the wild beast and few ■ of the brutal impulses of the beastly man. The descendants of French fathers and Indian mothers, they inherited all the quick, fiery daring of • the Frenchman, all the endur ance, craft and courage of the Indian, and all the indolence of both white man and red. Oce might cut his enemy's throat and wash his hands in the life blood, or spend years in accomplishing revenge; but it is a question if there is a single instance on record of a Bois-Brule molesting an enemy's family. When the Frenchman married a. native wom an he cast ;off civilization like an ill-fitting coat and virtually became an Indian. When the Scotch settler married a native woman, he educated her up to his own level and if she did not become entirely civilized, her children did. One was the wild,man, the Ishmaelite of the desert, the other, the tiller of the soil, the Israelite of the plain. Such were the tameless men of whom Cuthbert Grant was the leader, the leader solely from his at ness to lead.- : ■-.-;*..'■ :■ ■ ■'?.>: >;' - •:>; -V.. : ' It was late- in the afternoon when the war den returned from . Fort : Douglas. I was busy over my desk. Father Holland was still with us awaiting the departure of traders to the south, and Duncan Cameron was stamp ing about the room like a" caged lion. ; There came a ' quick,! angry | tramp from the : hall. "That's -Grant back, and there's no one with him," muttered Cameron with sup pressed anger; and in burst the warden him self, his heavy brows dark with fury and his eyes flashing . like « the fire at a pistol point. Involuntarily I stopped work and the priest glanced across at me with a look which bespoke expectation of an explosion. Grant did not storm. . That was not his way. He took several turns about the room, mastered himself, and speaking through his teeth said quietly:., "There be some ; fools that enjoy playing with gunpowder. .I'm not , one of them! There be some idiots that like teasing tigers. 'Tis not sport to my fancy! There be some pot-valiant braggarts that defy the law. Let them enjoy the breaking of the law!," ■" '" "■•:■■' ' ' ■ ; '. '- "' ■ ;■;' -." ■ "What—what—what?" sputtered the High land governor, springing; first r on one side of Grant and then on the other, all the while rumbling out maledictions on Lord Selkirk and Governor McDonell and Fort Douglas. "What, do ye say, nion? Do I understand ye clearly, there's no prisoners: with ye?'.', "Laughs at the Bois-Brules. The fool laughs at the Bois-Brules! I have seen gophers cock their, eye at a wolf, before that same.., wolf "made '■'•■, a; breakfast of of gophers. The - fool laughs at your warrant, sir! Scouted it, sir! Bundled ua out of Fort Douglas like cattle!" The warden went on in a bitter strain to tell of the effect of the posted proclamations on his followers. '. ;.. - - .■•■■ "So the lordly Captain Miles McDonell of th« Queen's Rangers, generalissimo of all creation, defies us, does he?" demanded Cam eron in great dudgeon, scarcely crediting his «ara. "i ■' ; • :: v --"Ay«!" answered- Grant, "but he can ill afford. to be bo high and mighty. We went through the settlement and half the people are with us ——".. ' " . . ; . .-- . : "That's good! That's good!" responded Cameron with keen relish. ■..„ "They're heartily Eick of the country,';; con ttned the • Warden, ■ "and would leave to-mor row if we'd supply the boats. ; Last winter they nearly starved. The company's generous eupply was rancid grease and wormy flour." "Fine way' o' colonizing a country," stormed Cameron, "bring men out as settlers and arm them to fight! We'll spike hie guns by ship ping a. score more away!" "We've spiked his guns in a better way," said Grant dryly. "Some of the friendlies are so afraid hell take their guns away and leave them defenseless unless they • fight us, they've sent their arms here for safekeeping. We'll keep them safe. I'll warrant." Grant amiled, showing his white teeth in a way that was not pleasant to see, and somehow re *ninded me.of a dog's snarl. "Good! Good! Excellent, Grant." Such strategy..pleased Cameron' "See here, 'mon, Cuthbert, ■ we've the law oa our —we've the warrants to back the law! We'd better give yon dour fool a lesson. He's broken the peace. We haven't. Come out, an' I'll talk it over with ye!" The two went out, Grant saying as they paesed the window: "Let him tamper with the fur trade among the Indians and I'lr not an swer for it! That last order not to sell " The rest of the remark I lost. >. . . ' ..r " 'Twould ] serve : him right )■ well if they did," leturned Cameron, and both men walked beyond hearing. "•'•'■■.■'-'*•"•: - . : ■ if Father Holland and I "were left alone. The fort became ominously.still. There was a dis tant ' clatter of receding hoofs; but we were on the south side of the warehouse and.could not see which way the horae3 were galloping. ; "I'm ; afraid—l'm afraid - both 'eides will be rash," observed the priest. -~\ . ;. The'sun dial Indicated 6 o'clock. :I closed and locked the office desks.; We had supper in the deserted dining rhall..^ Afterwards , we ' strolled to the. northeast gate' • and looking in the direction of Fart JDouglas,,- wondered what scheme could be ; afoot. ,; Here my ~ testimony need irot be taken for, or against, either side. All' 1 J-siaw; was * Duncan Cameron with < the . other white men of the ;fort-stariding-on-. a ■ tool!; some distance from Fort Gibraltar, •tl dently gazing towards Fort Douglas. Against the sky, above the settlement, there were clouds of rising smoke. "Burning bay-ricks?" I questioned. "Aye, and houses! 'Tis shameless work leaving the people exposed to the blasts of next winter! Shameless, shameless work! Y'r company '11 gain nothing by it, Rufus!" Across the night came faint, short snappings like a fusillade of shots. "Looting the neutrals," said the priest. I "God grant there be no blood on the plains this night! These fool traders don't realize what it means to rouse blood in an Indian! They'll get a lesson yet! Give the red devils a taste of blood and there won't be a white unscalped to the Rockies! I've seen y'r line, clever rascals play the Indian against rivals, and the game always ends tho same way. The Indian is a weapon that's quick to cut the hand of the user." Little did I realize my part iq. the terrible fulfilment of that prophecy. "Look alive, lad! Where are y'r wits? What's that?" he cried, suddenly pointing to the river bank. Up from the cliff sprang a form as if by magic. It camo leaping straight to the fort gate. "Some frightened half-breed wench," sur mised tbG priest. I saw it was a woman with a shawl over her head like a native. "Bon soir!" said I after the manner of traders with Indian women; but she rushed blindly on to the gate. The fort was deserted. Suspicion of treach ery flashed on me. How many more half breeds were beneath that cliff? "Stop, nuzzle!" I ordered, springing for ward and catching her so tightly by the wrist that she swung half-way round before she could check herself. She wrenched vigorously to get free. Stop' Be still, you huzzie!" "Be still —you what?" asked a low, amazed voice that broke in ripples and froze my blood. A shawl fluttered to the ground, and there stood before us the apparition of a marble face. "The Little Statue." I gasped in sheer horror at what I had done. "The little—what?" asked the rippling voit;e, that sounded like cold water flowing under ice, and a pair of eyes looked angrily down at the hand with whioh I was still un consciously gripping her arm. "I'd thank you, sir, she began, with * mock courtesy to the priest, "I'd thank 70U, sir, to call off your mastiff." "Let her go, boy! 1' roared the priest with a hammering blow across my forearm that brought me to my senses and convinced me she was no wraith. , Mastiff! That epithet stung to the quick. I flung her wrist from me as If it had been hot coals. Now, a woman may tread upon a man—also stamp upon him if she has a mind to—but she must trip it daintily. Other wise even a worm may turn against its tor mentor. To nave idolized that marble creature by day and night, to have laid our votive offerings on its- shrine, to have .hungered for the sound of a woman's lips for weeks, and to hear those lips cut tingly call me a dog—were more than I could stand. "Ten thousand pardons, Mistress Suther land!" I said with a pompous stiffness which I intended should be mighty crushing. "But when ladies deck themselves out as squaws and climb in and out of windows" —that was I brutal of me; she had done it for Miriam and I me—"and announce themselves in unexpected ways, they need not hope to be recognized." And did she flare back at me? Not at all. "You waste time with your long speeches," she said, turning from me to Father Holland. Thereupon I strode off angrily to the river bank. "Oh, Father Holland," I heard her say as I walked away, "I must go to Pembina! I'm in such trouble! There's a Frenchman—" Trouble, thought I; she is in trouble and I have been thinking only of my own dignity. And I stood above the river, torn between desire to rush back and wounded pride, that bade me stick it out. Over the plains came | the shout of returning plunderers. I could ■ hear the throb, throb of galloping hoofs beat -1 ing nearer and nearer over the turf, and re flected that I might make the danger from I returning Bois-Brules the occasion of a re- I conciliation. "Come here, lad!" called Father Holland. I needed no urging. "Ye must rig up in tam o'-shanter and tartan, like a Highland set tler, and take Mistress Sutherland back to Fort Douglas. She's going to Pembina to meet her father, lad, when I go south to the Missouri. And, lad," the priest hesitated, glancing doubtfully from Miss Sutherland to me, "I'm thinking there's a service ye might do her." The Little Statue was looking straight at me now, and there were tear-marks about the heavy lashes. Now, I do not pretend to ex plain the power, or witchery, a gentle slip of a girl can wield with a pair of gray eyes; but when I met the furtive glance and saw the white, vetoed forehead, the arched brows, the tremulous lips, the rounded chin, and the whole face glorified by that wonderful mass of hair, I only know, without weapon or design, she dealt me a wound which I bear to this day. What a ruffian I had been! I was ashamed, and my eyes fell before hers. If a libation of blushes could appease an of fended goddess, I was livid evidence of re pentance. I felt myself flooded in a sudden heat of shame. She must have read my con fusion, for she turned away her head to hide mantling forgiveness. "There's a crafty Frenchman in the fort has been troubling the lassie. I'm thinking, if ye worked off some o' your anger on himi it moight be for the young man's edification' Be quick! I hear the breeds returning!" "But I have a message," she said in chok ing tones, "From whom?" I asked aimlessly enough. "Eric Hamilton!" she answered. "Eric Hamilton!" both the priest and I shouted. "Yesr-why? What—what—is it? He's wounded, and he wants a Rufus Gillespie, who's with the Nor'westers. The Bois-Brules fired on the fort. Where Is Rufus Gilles- pie?" "Bless you, lassie! Here—here—here he is!" The holy father thumped my back at every word. "Here he is, crazy as a March hare for ne-ws of Hamilton!" "You-Rufus—Gillespie!" So she did not even know my name. Evidently, if she trou bled my thoughts. I did not trouble hers. "He^s told me so much about you " she went on, with a little pant of astonishment "How brave and good—" "Pshaw!" I interrupted roughly. "What's the message'?" "Mr. Hamilton wishes to see you at once " she answered coldly. ' "Then kill two birds with one »tone! Take her home and see Hamilton—and hurry!" urged the priest. The halfbrejeds were now very near. "Put it over your head!" and Father Hol r land clapped the shawl about Frances Suth erland after the fashion of the half-breed women. She stood demurely behind him while I ran upstairs In the warehouse to disguise myself in tartan plaid. When I came out, Duncan Cameron was In the gateway welcoming Cuthbert Grant and the Bois-Brules, as if pillaging defenseless settlers were heroic. Victors from war may be inspiring, but a half-breed rabble, red-handed from deeds of violence, is not a sight to edify any man. . "What's this ye have, father?" bawled one impudent fellow, and he pointed sneeringly at the figure in the folds of the shawl. "Let the wench be!" was the priest's re ply, afcd the half-breed lounged past with a laugh. I was about to offer Frances Sutherland my arm to escort her from the mob, when I f«lt Father Holland's hard knuckles dig viciously into my ribs. ; "Ye fool ye! Ye blundering idiot!" he whispered, "she's a half-breed. Och! But'a time y'r eastern greeness was tannin' a good western russet! Let her follow with bowed head, or you'll have the whole pack on y'r heels!" With that admonition,. I strode boldly out, ehe bohlnd, humble, with 'downcast eyes like a half-breed girl. We ran down the river path through the willows and jumping into a canoe swiftly rounded the forks of the Assinlboine- and Red. There we left the canoe and fled along a trail beneath the cliff till the shouting of the half-breeds could he no longer heard. At once I turned to offer her my arm. She must have bruised her feet through the thin moccasins, for the way was very rough. I saw that she was trembling from fatigue. "Permit me," I said, offering my arm as "Permit me," I said, --offering my arm as formally as if she had Deen some grand lady In an eastern drawing-room. ' "Thank you—l'm afraid I must," and she reluctantly placed a light hand en my sleeve. I did not like that eondeseondlng compul sion, and now out of danger, I became strangely embarrassed and angry in her pres ence. The "mastiff" epithet stuck like a barb In my boyish chivalry. Was it the wind, or a low sigh, or a silent weeping, that I heardT I longed to know, but would not turn my head, and my companion was lagging just a step behind. I slackened speed, so did she. Then a voice so low and soft and golden it might have melted a heart of stone—but what is a heart of stone compared to the wounded pride of a young man?—said, "Do you know, I think I rather like mastiffs?" "Indeed," said I icily, in no mood for raillery. "Like them for friends, not enemies, to be protected by them, not—not bitten," the voice continued with a provoking emphasis of the plural "them." "Yes," said I, v.ith equal emphasis of th* obnoxious plural. "Ladies find them useful at times." That fling silenced her and I felt a shiver run down the arm en my sleeve. "Why, you're shivering," I blundered out. "You must let me put this round you," and I pulled off the plaid and would have placed It on her shoulders, but she resisted. "I am not in the least col.l," she an swered frigidly—which is the only untruth I ever heard her tell —"and you shall not say 'must' to me," and she took her hand from my arm. She spoke with a tremor that warned me not to insist. Then I knew wlsy she had shivered. "Please forgive, Mlns Sutherland," I begged. "I'm such a maladroit animal." "I quite agree with you, a maladroit mastiff with teeth!" Mastiff! That insult ngain! I did not re proffer my arm. We strode forward one* more, she with her face turned sideways re mote from me, I with my fate sideways re mote from her, and the plaid trailing from my hand by way of snowing her she could have it if J3he wished. We must have paced along in this amiable, post-matrimonial fash ion, for .quite a. quarter of the mile we had to go, and I was awkwardly conscious of suppressed laughing from her side. It was the rippling votce, that always seemed to me like fountain splash in the sunshine, whichTroke silence again. "Really," said the low, thrilling, musical witchery by my side, "really, it's the most monderful story I 'have ever heard!" "Story?" I queried, stopping stock still and gaping at her. "Perfectly wonderful! So Intensely inter esting and delightful." "Interesting and delightful?" I Interrogated in sheer amazement. This girl utterly dumfounded me, and in the conceit of youth I thought It strange that any gtrl could dum found me. "What an interesting life you have had, to bo surel" "I have had?" "Yes, don't you know you've been talking in torrents for the past ten minutes? No? Do you forget?" and she laughed tremulously either from embarrassment, or cold. "Well!" said I, befooled Into good humor and laughing back. "If you gtv* me a day's warning, I'll try to keep up with you." "Ah! There! I've put you through the ice at last! It's bee.n such hard work)" "And I come up badly doused" "Stimulated, too! You are doing well al ready!" ''There! There!" she cried, dropping rail lery as soon as I took it up. "You were cross at the window. I was cross on the flats. You nearly wrenched my hand off—" 'Can you blame me?" I asked. "And to ray me back you turned my head and stole njy lean—" "Hush!" she interrupted. "Let's clean the slate and beg'n again." "With all my heart, if you'll wear this tar tan and stop shivering." I was not ready to consent to an unconditional surrender. "I hate your 'ifs' and 'buts' and so-much glven-for-so-much-got," she exclaimed with an impatient little stamp, "but—but—" she added, inconsistently, "if—lf—you'll keep one end of the plaid for yourself, I'll take the other." "Ho—ho! I like 'ifs' and 'huts.' Have you more of that kind?" I laughed, whisking the fold about us both. Drawing her hand into mine, I kept it there. "It isn't so cold as—as that, is it?" asked th« voice under the plaid. "Quite," I returned valiantly, tightening my clasp. She laughed a low, mellow laugh that set my heart beating to the tune of a trip-hammer. I felt a great intoxication of strength that might have razed Fort Douglas to the ground and conquered the whole world, which, I dare say, other young men have felt when the same kind of weight hung upon their protection. "Oh! Little Statue! Why have you been bo hard on us?" I began. / "Us?" she asked. "Me—then," and I gulped down my embar rassment. "Because—" "Because what?" "No what. Just because!" She was aaton- Ished that her decisive reason did not satisfy "Because! A woman's reason!" I scoffed "Because! Ifs the best and wisest and most wholesome reason ever Invented. Think what it avoids saying and what wisdom may be behind it!" "Only wisdom?" "You be careful! There'll be another cold plunge! Tell me about your friend's . wife, Miriam," she answered, ch*n«inrthe subject And when I related my «tr*n«e mission and she murmured, "How noble," I became a very Samson of strength, ready t» vanquish an army of Philistine almirers with the jaw bone of my Inflated self-confidence— provided, always one queen of tae tombat were looking on. "Are you cold, now?" I asked, though the trembling had ceased. No, she was not cold. She- was quite com fortable, and the answer calne in Vibrant tones which were as wine to. a young man' 3 heart. , " "Are you tired, France?" and the "No" was accompanied by a little laugh, which spurred more questioning for no other pur pose than to hear the manic of her voice. Now, what was there in those replies to cause happiness? Why have inane answers to in ane, timorous questions transformed earth into paradise and mortals into angels? "Do you find the way very far—Fradces?" The flavor of some names tempts repeated tasting. "Very far?" came the response in an amused voice, "find it very far? Yes r do quite far—oh! No—l don't. Oh! I don't know!" She broke Into a Joyous laugh at her own confusion, gaining more self-posses sion as I lost mine; and out she slipped from the plaid. "I wish it were a thousand times farther," and I gazed ruefully at the folds that trailed empty. What other absurd thing* I might have said THE MINNEAPOLIS JOURNAL. I cannot tail; but we were at ■the fort and I had to wrap the tartan disguise about myself. Stooping, I picked a bunch of dog-roses growing by the path, then felt foolish, for I had not the courage to give them to her, and dropped them without her knowledge. Sha «rave the password at the gate. I was taken for a Selkirk Highlander and we easily gained entrance. A nun brushed past us In the gloom of the courtyard. He looked impudently down Into her face. It was Laplante, and my whole frame filled with a furious resentment which I had not guessed could be possible with me. I "That Frenchman," she whispered, but hii I figure Vanished among the buildings. She ; showed me the council hall where Eric could i be found. "And where do you go?" I asked, stupidly. She Indicated the quarters where the set tlers had taken refuge. I led her to the door. ! |^Are you sure you'll be safe?" / "Oh! Yes, quite, as long as the settlers are ' here; and you, you will let me know when the priest sets out for Pemblna?" I vowed more emphatically than the case required that she should know. "Are there no dark halls In there, unsafe for you?" I questioned. "None," and she w«nt up the first step of the doorway. "Are you sure you're safe?" I also mounted a step. "Yes, fluite, thank you," and she retreated farther, "and you, have you forgotten you came to see Mr. Hamilton?" "Why—so I did," 1 stammered out absently. I She was on the stop step, pulling the latch- I string of the great door. "Stop! Frances—dear!" I cried. She stood motionless and I felt that this ! last rashness of an unruly tongue—too frank by far—had finished me. "What? Can I do anything to repay you ! for your trouble in bringing me here?' "I've teen repaid," I answered, "but in- ' deed, indeed, long live the queen! May It please her majesty to grt.nt.a token to her leal and devoted knight—" "What la thy request?" she asked laugh- ! Ingly. "What token doth the knight covet?" "The token that goes with good nights," and I ventured a pace up the stairs. "Ihere, sir knight," she returned, hastily putting out her hand, which was not what I wanted, but to which I gratefully paid my devoir. "Art satisfied?" she asked. "Till the queen deigns more," and I paused for a reply. She lingered on the threshold as If s-he meant to come down to me, then with a qnlck turn vanished behind the gloomy doors, tak ing all the light of my world with her; but I heard a voice, as of some happy bird in springtime, trilling from the hall where she had gone, and a new song made music In my own hfart CHAPTER XI. A SHUFFLING OF ALLEGIANCE. Time was when Fort Douglas rang as loudly ! with mirth of assembled traders as ever Fort j William's council hall. Often have I heard i veterans of the Hudson's Bay service relate i how the master ot revels used to fill an am- I pie Jar with corn and quaff a beaker of liquor I for every grain in the drinker's hour-glass. "How stands the hour-glass?" the gov ernor of the feast, who was frequently also i governor of the company, would roar out ' in stentorian tones, that made themselves i heard above the drunken brawl. "High, your honor, high," some flunkey of ! the drinking bout would bawl back. Thereupon, another grain was picked from | the jar, another flagon tossed down and the revel went on. This was a usual occurrence before and after the conflict with the Nor'- Westers. But the night that I climbed the stairs of the main warehouse and, mustering up assurance, stepped into the hall as if I belonged to the fort, or the fort belonged to me, there was a different scene. A wounded man lay on a •litter at the end of theh long, low room; and the traders, sitting on the benches against the walls, or standing aim lessly about, were' talking In suppressed tones. Scotchmen, driven from their farms by the Bois-Brules, hung around In anxious groups. The lanterns, suspended on iron hooks from mid-rafters, gave but a dusky light, and I vainly scanned many faces for; Eric Hamilton. That he was wounded I j knew. I waa stealing stealthily towards the stretcher at the far end of the place when a deep voice burred rough salutation in my ear. "Moo are ye, gillie?" It was a shaggy browed, bluff Sotehmaji, who evidently took me. in my tartan dttguiae, for a Highland lad. Whether he meant "How are you?" or "Who are you?" M Was not.certain. Afraid my tongue might betray me, I muttered back i an indistinct response. The Scot was eithor suspicious or offended by my churlishness. I slipped off quickly to a dark corner, but I saw him eying me closely. A youth brushed past, humming a ditty, which seemed strange ly out of place In those surroundings. He stood an elbow's length from me and kicked moccasined heels against the floor in the way of light-headed lads. Both the air and figure of the young fellow vaguely recalled somebody, but his back was towards me. I was measuring my comrade, wondering If I might inquire where Hamilton could be found, when the lad turned, and I was fac< to face with the whiskered babe of Fort Wil liam. He gave a long, low whistle. "Gad!" he gasped. "Do my eyes tell lies? As I live, 'tis your very self! Hang it, now, I thought you were one of those solid bodies who wouldn't do any turn-coating " "Turn-coating!" I repeated in amazement. "One of those dray-horse, old reliables, j wouldn't kick over the traces, not if the ! boss pumped his arms off licking you! Hang It! I'm not that sort! By gad, I'm not! I've j got too many oats! I can't stand being Jawed and gee-hawked by Dune. Cameron; so when the old governor threatened to dock me for being full, I Just kicked up my heels and came. But say I didn't think you would Gillespie!" "No?" said I, keeping my own counsel and waiting for the Nor-West deserter to proceed. "What 'd y' do it for, Gllleepie? You're as sober as cold water! Was it old Cam eron?" "You're not talking straight, babe," said I. "You know Cameron doesn't nag his men. What did you do it for?" "Eh?" and the lad gave a laugh over my challenge of his veracity. 'See here, old pal I'll tell you If you tell me." "Go ahead with your end of the contract!" "Well, then, look here. We're not In this wilderness for glory. I knock down to the highest bidder—" "Hudson Bay is not the highest bidder." "Not unless you happen to have informa tion they want." "Oh! That's the way of it, is it?" So the boy was selling Nor'-Westers' secrets. "You can bet your last beaver skin it is! i Do you think I was old Cam's private secre- I tary for nothin'? Not I! I say—get your I wares as you may and sell 'em to the highest ! bidder. So here I am, snugly berthed, with ! nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs, all ; through judicious—distribution—of—lnforma tion." And the boy gurgled with pleasure over his own cleverness. "And say,' Gillespie, I'm in regular clover! The Little Statue's I here, all alone! Dad's gone to Pemblna to ' the buffalo hunt. I've got ahead of all you fellows. I'm going to introduce a French chap, a friend of mine." "You'd much better break his bones," was my advice. It needed no great speculation ! to guess who the Frenchman was; and In the ; hands of that crafty rake this prattling babe i would be as putty." i "Pah! \ou're jealcus, Gillospie! Wo'ra right on tfhe inside track!" "Lots of confidential talks with her, I suppose?" "Talks! Pah! You gross fatty! Why, Gil lespie, what do you know of such things? \ Laplante can win a girl by just looking at her—French way, you know—rhe can pose better tba.n a poem!" "Blockhead," I ground out between my ' teeth, a feeling taking possession of me, j which is designated "indignation" In the first person but Jealousy in the second and third. "YoU stupid simpleton, that Laplante is a villain who will turn your addled pate and work you as an old wife kneads dough.*' "What do you knew about Laplante?" he demanded hotly. "I know he Is an accomplished blackguard," I answered quietly, "and If you want to spoil your chances with the Little Statue, just prance round in his company." The lad was too much surprised to speak. "Where's Hamilton?" I asked. "Find him for yourself," said he, going off in a huff. (To be Continued.) ** If It's a "Garland" That's All You need to know about a stove 6t range. Backache is almost Immediately relieved by wearing one of Carter's Smart Weed and Belladonna Backache Plasters. Try one and be free from pain. Price 25 cents. SATURDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 21, 1901. Sabbath-School Lesson. FOR SEPTEMBER 29, 1901. Review. By John R. Whitney—Copyright, 190 L Golden Text—The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting, upon them that fear him.—Psa., cili., 17. "The first book of Moses, called Genesis," stands not only as the first book in the Bible but it is the first book in the world. No other book surpasses it in combined antiquity, clearness and truth. All others which have competed with it as to age have been mere collections of fables, unintelligible in charac ter and untrustworthy as guides. This book thu^gives us the first and only authentic ac count of the origin of the earth, of man and of history. Its opening ie the Apocalypse of Moses, as "the Revelation" is th» Apocalypse of John. In that of Moses we see the sublime origin of the present earth and the heavens, as the field in which the activities of men are to be carried out in time. In that of John we see the equally sublime manifestation of "a new heaven and a new earth," as the field for their activities through all eternity. It Is very interesting, therefore, and as re markable as it is interesting, to notice that this first book of books, which gives the ori gin of everything we see about us, and with which we have to do, places no emphasis whatever upon any of those facts concerning them which interest merely the intellects of men. It claims that its facts are to be ap prehended by faith, rather than to be ascer tained by research. And yet, however deeply men may search into them, they never find, never have found, and never will find, the : least thing to cast a shadow of doubt upon i the facts as they are simply stated in this sublime book. During the last three months as we have studied this book, it has not turned our at tention to history of the world in gen i eral, but it has fixed it 'upon certain impor i tant historic characters. They have been 1 singled out from all other men as God's wit- , | nesses. They are Adam, Abel, Noah, Abra ! ham. Isaac- and Jacob. Wnilst each of these is an historic character, the special character istic concerning them upon which it has con ! centrated our thoughts, has not been their [relation to the men about them, or to their place in history, but to their attitude towards God. Thus, as the book does not attempt to answer the scientific inquiries of men, neither does it their historical and ethnological ques tions. It rather declares and illustrates by living examples, great spiritual facts, im portant for every man to consider whether he be learned in 3cience and history or not. These facts are two: FAITH. IN MAN. and GRACE, FROM GOD. Interpreted by the writer ot "The Epistle to the Hebrews," each of these representative j men exhibited —or stand for —some particular j phase of faith, and all were the objects of ! God's grace. In Adam, Abel, Noah and Abraham, however, the way in which they received His grace was emphasized. It was I "by faith." In Isaac and Jacob—and in the! characters which will come before us during the next three months —the way in which He dealt with them was emphasized, rather than their reception of His dealings. It was "by I grace." Thus in eight lessons our attention. ! was fixed upon men; in three, it was fixed . j upon God. And these men who laid the I foundations of history were not presented to I us as models for the shaping of our conduot I as men, but as ensamples for our faith as be j lievers. The first fact brought before us in our study of "Genesis" was the foundation on which I all other facts rest—the fact of a divine ere | ator. No explanation of the origin of the i world and of man has ever been more satis ] factory, or more sublime, or more compre hensive than the unhesitating, unqualified declaration of the opening sentence of this | book, "In the beginning, God created the I heaven and the earth." And this fact, our • commentator in "The Epistle to the He ■ brews," says we are to receive, not because' j science has proved it, or reason demands it, 'or experience Justifies it, but "through faith." i (11: S.) When God finished His creation, He said, "Let us make man in our image, after our I likeness." (1: 26.) "Male and female, ere ! ated He them; and blessed them, and called ■ their name—Adam." (5: 2.) This duplex i I "Adam," bearing the image of his maker,' ■ thus stood upon the earth as the representa- j j tive of all who should be born of him. They j j could not possibly have had in the beginning | j a representative better constituted, or placed j lin a better position. Made in the image of ;God; inbreathed with the spirit of God; walk jlng in fellowship with God; with no evil (companions; with no hereditary bias to sin, j and without even any knowledge of evil, he was subject to the law of his maker. That j law contained but one commandment, but the penalty for Its transgression was death. (3: 17.) Being a created being, Adam could be tempted, and being beguiled by Satin, he fell under the condemnation of the law. Thus "by one man, sin entered Into the world, and [death by sin: and so, death passed upon all ! men, for that all have sinned." (Rom. 6: 12.) i But as soon as man sinned and hid himself from God, God "called" him, and revealed to him the germ of His plan of redemption. It was to be through the death of another man. (3: 9-15.) Thus "the first man, Adam," of the earth, earthy (1 Cor. IB: 45-47), was made "in the image of God." "The last, Adam, the Lord from heaven," "was made in the likeness of men." (Phil. 2: 7.) Both were "in all points tempted like as we are." (Heb. 4: 15.) The first fell, and became a sinner. The other was "without sin," and became the Saviour. As a friend recently wrote me very tersely and very truly, "The first Adam, and the last Adam; the first man, and the second man, are the only two men with whom scripture really deals." All other men have their standing before God, only as they are related to these two. If they are "in Adam," they are condemned to die. If they are "in Christ," they are redeemed, and made alive. (1 Cor. 15: 22.) The next great truth presented to us is in "Genesis," but omitted in our course of les sons, grows necessarily and naturally out of i the fact that Adam fell, and man became a ' sinner. For being a sinner, he cannot come ' before God acceptably in- himself. He must j find a substitute who can take his place, and i meet in his stead all the demands of the broken law. So we read that when Cain and- Abel presented themselves before God, "Cain brought of the fruit of the ground," the re sult of his own tillage. But Abel "brought of the firstlings of his flocks," a lamb without sin, but who could die as the sinner dies. So, "by faith, Abel offered unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain." (Heb. 11: 4.) But why should the guilty soul desire ac ceptance at all with God? Because God will surely punish sin. This Noah fully believed. Many in his day did not, Just as there are many in our day who do not. But he did. And so when "God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth," and "the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from off the face of the earth," "by faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house." (Heb. 11: 7.) This, however, is only one side of God'a character. Whilst He "will, by no means, '■ clear the guilty," yet He "Is merciful and I gracious, long suffering and abundant in goodness and truth." (Ex. 84: 6-7.) So He called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldees, and the worship of strange gods, and gave him "exceeding great and precious prom ; lses." These promises he believed as im | plicitly as Noah believed the threatenings. So "by faith, Abraham, when he was called [to go out into a place, he should after re iceive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went lout, not knowing whither he went." (Heb. 11: 8.) This was a higher degree of faith than I any we have as yet seen, but it was only the I first step in Abraham's spiritual gTOwth. Called whilst still In heathenism, by the grace of God, to become a believer In Him, he went out of the land of idolatry into the land of promise. With him was associated [his nephew and brother-in-law. Lot. He was older than Abraham, but he was not at all of the same spirit. His mind and heart were evidently set on the things of time aad sense, and although he knew of the,great promisee made to his uncle, and was perfectly willing to prosper because of his connection with them through him, yet In themselves they were of no great value in his eyes. So as Abram had been called to separate himself from the heathen, now he was called to sepa rate himself from the worldly. Therefore, Abrain bade Lot choose whatever and wherever he desired, content himself to take whatever Lot did not choose. So Lot I chose the rich "plain of Jordan, and pitched his tent toward Sodom." (13: 12.) Then, when he was separated from Lot, Abram waa not only bidden to look northward, and south ward, and eastward, and westward to see how much God'B promises to him included, j but he was bidden to walk through the length I and breadth of them, and learn by blessed ex , perience how rich and varied they were.- Thus his faith grew in clearness and strength.. | But It did not end there. For, by the vision Lof the stars, which he could neither compre hend nor count, and by the covenant of God i with him in solemn sacrifice, he learned as he had never learned before that the promises were as rich as they were because God Him self was h!s "shield and exceeding great re ward." (15: 1.) The one great anxiety ■with him was for a son In whom the promises could be realised, (15: 8-5.) This anxiety was evidently so met—in some way not re corded—that he saw In Jeeus Christ that promised "seed." For the apostle says: "He salth not, And to seeds,* as of many* but as of one, And to thy Seed (16:5), which la Christ." (Gal. 3: 16.) And our Lord Himself said to the Jews of His day: "Your father Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad." (John 8: 56.) So "Abraham believed God, and it was counted Unto him for righteousness." -(15: 8; Rom. 4: 3.) It was an imputed righteousness— "the righteousness which is of God by faith." (Phil. 8: 9.) When Abraham thus "believed God and It was imputed upto him for righteousness, ie was called The Friend of God." (Jame§ 2: 23.) Admitted to-this blessed relationship. A NOTED PHYSICIAN, Doctor Wanata, of Lansing, Mich., Says There is Nothing in the Materia Medica that Equals Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Com pound for the Cure of Woman's His. "Dear Mrs. Pinkham: — The honest, intelligent physician is above the * School.* Whatever is best in each case should be used, no matter to what school a physician belongs. I, as a matter of conscience, can only prescribe the best, and as I know and have proven that there is nothing in Materia Medica which equals Lydia E. Pinkham'g Vege table Compound in severe cases of female disorders, I unhesitatingly prescribe it, and have never yet been sorry. "I know of nothing better for ovarian troubles and for falling of the womb or ulcerations; it absolutely restores the affected parts to their normal condition quicker and better than anything else. I have known it to cure barrenness in women, who to-day are happy mothers of children, and while the medical profession looks down upon' patents,' I have learned, instead, to look-up to the healing potion, by whatever name it be known. If my fellow physicians dared tell the truth, hundredf of them would voice my sentiments."—Da. Wanata, Lansing, Mich. . As Dr. Wanata says, if physicians dared to be frank and open, hun dreds of them would acknowledge that they constantly prescribe Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound in severe cases of female ills, as they know by experience that it can relied upon to effect a cure. ' Women who are troubled with painful or irregular menstruation, backache, bloating (or flatulence), leucorrhcea, falling, inflammation or ulceration of the ovarian troubles, that "bearing-down" feeling, dizziness, faintness, indigestion, nervous prostration or the blues should take immediate action to ward off the serious consequences, and be restored to perfect health and strength by taking Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound, and then write to Mrs. Pinkham, Lynn, Mass., for further free advice. No living person has had such a vast and successful experience in treating female ills. She has guided thousands to health. Every suffering woman should ask for and follow her advice. Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound has carried hu: dreds of women through the periods of child bearing and change of life in perfect comfort and safety. . , ; A medicine that has restored so many women to health and can produce proof of the fact must be regarded with respect. This is the record of Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound, which cannot be equalled by any other medicine the world has ever produced. ' ! - . -..: It is well to remember these facts when some druggist tries to get you to buy something which he says is "just as" good." That is impossible, as no other medicine has such a record of cures as Lydia E. Pinkham's Vege table Compound ; so do not experiment with untried medicines. : ' .■'. ':'. ftTAAA REWARD. — Weh»Tedepoßitedwith theNation»l City Bank of Lynn.ffiOOO, I \h|i B| whlch will b paid to ay person who can find that the abore testimonial letter I ■nail 11111 is not gonuin or was published before obtaining the writer's special per-I WV WWW mlMioa. .y, :••■■-;. Lydi» E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn, Maa*. I we next find that he not only "stood before the Lord," as he had often done, but now he "drew near" to Him as His Friend in earnest pleading for others. (18: 22,23.) And his prayer prevailed to deliver Lot from the de struction pronounced upon Sodom. But Abraham had not as yet exhibited the most perfect faith required of the children of God. Whether he was able to exhibit it, must be tested. So "it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham," or prove him. (22: 1.) He must deliver up his son, his beloved aon, the son for whom he had so long waited, and in whom all of God's promises were to be realized, even unto death. But his faith was equal to the de mand. At every step of . the proceeding ■we find him ready with the answer: "Behold, here am I"—listening to receive Thy commands. "Behold, here am I"—trusting Thee. i_l '^^^^W-s ctors anc* Midwlves Recommend g I **i§§3^W jyioiiicrs Friend" 1 5S ?^sv^*§^Vs*^l^>/'/ becattss it is used externally In cases of the delicate 2^> "55 'W/'fili situation of expectant mothers. It is a constant re- Ja, *•_• <f,'(,/,rT™?*^TJl „ Jfff/i lief, robbing childbirth of It* terrors. Internal reme- _*?» 55 vIiIMBSSi l£f I/" dies re dangerous. " Mother's Friend "is a blessing s=* »^g» i^i ■ In a bottle. There is nothing like it. -- '. »;.; : • J*? 56. «• jm> r-.-.-"^x - ■•''■* *" The mother of three children, who suffered premtly in tha birth of «i~ *TJi . a Mot* vajna fain. each, obtained a bottle of • Mother's Friend •at my drug store baforo S* ' her fourth confinement, and was reliered quickly. All mothers who hare used It agree their labor was shorter S* «rfgj and less painful." :-,v, _________ JOHN G. POLHILL. Macoo, Ca. - "Jbi *p& Sent by express paid on receipt of price, SI per bottle. Boole." Motherhood," mailed fcee to ladles, sp" "^ym containing sensible advice and testimonials. 2-** *jjo Sold by all Druggists. THE BIULXIFX£JLO ILEUILATOR CO.. Atlanta, Ca. «s*» We pay $5 a Week For ILvening Work. ... Oneman wanted in every town having 20,000 or less population; hii duties are ! light, can be done evenings or in one hour during the day will not iaterfere with his other occupation—applicant must be able to write a plain hand—must have resided over one year in his town and be able to give two responsible references. ' : ■■. ■*;. L ;. We are the only Custom Tailoring Association in America, making * suits to order as low as $6; equal in fit and finish to the highest cost Tailoring. 1 This we want to introduce in every town. :::; For this work : you will receive from $2 to $10 on every suit or overcoat !ordered; from $1 to $3 on every pants order, in addition to $5 each^week. : . . If you are brignt and will work honestly in our interest, then writ© us at once for full particulars. -".'; : ; "Ivi " "• '0; vi '4, To avoid delay and applications from those answering only out of i curiosity we require every man answering this advertisement to enclosa J 25c. in stamps' or silver; on receipt we will at once send you a complete sample book of our Economic Tailoring, with instructions, stationery, business cards, advertising matter and everything needed and tertiai oa which we the $5 a week for evening work. *- ■ y^\ x-•" The 25c. will partly pay the express on samples which are entirely free. ': We will return the 25c. to you when started. -Ij^";:^ /.i ':• \': , REMEMBER, only one man wanted (in towns where not already represented). : Write at once; , such a chance may never come again. : ,'• . . , Address Dept. B. C-!::"-t: ': '•■'" ~"'r'F '■ ' ;;'?;. THE CHICAGO TAILORS' ASSOCIATION, > - 195-197 Market Street, r - CHICAGO, ILL. Agents of other custom tailoring; firms may also answer this 3 It wffl n»y x«iUai_mdle our economic Tailoring. ■ * 7 . DR. WANATA. "Behold, here am I"—doing Thy will. Nothing but faith could thus reply, and la so replying It reached its highest form- Abraham's will and God's will were now one. Such is the evolution of faith. Beginning with a simple recognition of responsibility to God, the condemnation of the sinner by the law, the need of an atonement and the certain punishment of sin, it Jays hold of the promises of Qod, stands before Him accepted in Christ, prevails in prayer for others, until at last it reaches its climax in a perfect sub mission of the will, and the believer becomes one with God Himself. But whilst the delivering up of Isaac on the part of Abraham marked the highest point to which faith in man can reach, the deliv ery of Isaac from death manifested the first step in grace from God. The evolution of this grace, however, will come more fully be fore us in our next review. • Bryn Mawr, Pa.