The Wenatchee daily world. [volume], March 15, 1909, Page 6, Image 6

About The Wenatchee daily world. [volume] (Wenatchee, Wash.) 1905-1971

Image provided by: Washington State Library; Olympia, WA

                
_6
f THE I
(barrier
T\ HEX BEACH
CHAPTER I.—John Gale is a trad
er at Flambeau, a rough outpost of
civilization in Alaska. His daughter
Necia is a beautiful young girl, gen
erally believed to be a half breed,
daughter of Gale and the Indian
squaw Alluna, with whom he lives.
Some hidden burden weighs continu
ally on the trader's mind, and he
views with apprehension the arrival
of a squad of soldiers at Flambeau.
"That means the law," he says un
easily to Necia, who has become ac
quainted with and admired by Lieu
tenant Burrell, commander of the
soldiers. II —It becomes known that
Napoleon Doret, an honest, faithful
French Canadian employed by Gale,
is deeply in love with Necia. One
Runnion, a dissolute gambler and
"bad man," arrives at Flambeau by
steamer and in a fight with Burrell
is worsted and forced to leave the
town. On the departing steamer's
deck he menacingly says, "I will re
turn to take a hand in the game."
lll.—Doret gives Necia a handsome
silk gown brought by him from Daw
son City for her. Arrayed in this,
she meets Lieutenant Burrell, who
falls madly in love with her, and he
wonders if her blood is really taint
ed. Gale reasserts that she is the
illegitimate daughter of himself and
the squaw. IV. —Runion returns with
Ben Stark, a professional gambler
and man killer with plenty of money.
Stark builds a saloon and dance hall
at Flambeau. "No Creek" Lee dis
covers gold in a valley some miles
distant, and Necia persuades Burrell
to take her there and locate a claim
for her, their trip requiring a day
and a night in the forest. V., VI.
and VII. —Gale, Lee, Runnion and
Stark have gone together to the site
of Lee's discovery to locate claims.
They are met by Necia and Burrell
CHAPTER XII.
1 TANGLED SJCEIK,
WHEN Runvll entered he wast
ed no lime in greetings.
"I know why you sent for
me, Poleon. I've heard the
news, and I would have been up any
how to congratuate her very soon. I
call it pretty fine."
"Yes, dere's been beeg strike all
right, an' Ne« ia is goin' be riehe gal."
"I'm as pleased as if the claim were
mine, and you feel the same way, of
course."
"You know me for good man, eh?
An' you know I am' try for bre'k up
oder fellers' bisnesse, never! Waal, I'm
come to you now lak Wan good man
to 'noder. bicoause I'm got bad trou
ble on de tniu'. an' you mus'n't get
sore."
"There's no danger, Poleon. Let's
lave it. If there is anything I can do
you may count on me."
"Waal." he began nervously, clearing
his throat, "it's lak dis. Dere's feller
* rm tired of the game, and you interest j
mc no longer."
been talk some 'bout Necia, an' it am':
lice talk neider."
"Who is he?" exclaimed the soldier
in a tone that made the girl's heart
leap.
"Wait! Lemme tol' you wat he say;
den we'll talk 'bout feex *im plalntee.
He say dere's joke down on Stark's
saloon dat Necia Gale is mak* fool of
herse'f on you an' dat you am* care for
marry her.**
"Runnion!"' cried Burrell and started
for the door. "I'll settle with him now
for fairr But Poleon blocked his
way and. observing hlra gravely, con
tinued in a .tone that the other could
THE WENATCHEE DAILY WORM), WENATCHEE, WASHINGTON, MONDAY, MARCH 15, 1909.
and a bitter quarrel ensues. Run
nion and Stark conspire to rob Necia
of her claims. Runnion wants the
girl, and Stark finds that Necia has
a strange, unexplainable fascination
for him. His baby daughter had
been stolen years before. Burrell be
comes the declared enemy of both
Stark and Runnion. A gun held by
Gale is discharged, the bullet acci
dentally, he claims, narrowly missing
Stark. Vlll.—Gale knows Stark to
be an old enemy of his and fathei
of Necia, and Alluna, his squaw, says
"Kill Stark. Take the knife of my
father. To kill is the law." IX., X.,
XL, XII. and XIII. —Nevia, believing
herself a half breed, fears she can
not marry Burrell, whom she loves,
as she learns that her tainted blood
will bar her from meeting the people
he naturally associates with, and she
overhears Burrell say he may not
marry her after all. Stark persuades
her to leave Flambeau after he his
covers her to be his daughter. XIV.
—Gale tells Burrell of Necia's past
and that Stark has hounded him
from one section of the country to
another and that Stark does not now
recognise him as Gale. XV. and XVI.
—Stark sends Necia away in a boat
with a man she later discovers to be
the villain Runnion, and Stark, learn
ing Gale's identity, wants Burrell to
arrest him. Stark goes to his own
house and there, meeting Gale, en
sues in a fearful duel in the dark
and is nearly killed by the trader.
XVII. —Napoleon Doret rescues Necia
from Runnion and leaves the latter
to die a horrible death. XVIII.—
Father Barnum arrives and marries
N'ecia and Burrell. XlX.—Doret,
'the man with the big heart," sails
away alone to forget his sorrows in
the wilderness.
not disregard nor mistake:
"No, m'sieu. Before you pass on dat
place you'll toT me if It's true."
"True!" the lieutenant retorted an
grily. "What business is it of yours?
This concerns me."
"An' me too! I'm wat you call gar
deen for Necia till John Gale come
back, au' I'm broder of her too. You
promis' jus' now you don' get mad, an'
I don' say she's Runnion neider wat
spik dose ting. Dere's more dan 'im
been talkin*. Is it true?"
His sternness offended Burrell, for
,the soldier was not the kind to dis
cuss his affairs In this way; therefore
he drew back, scowling.
"Poleon Doret," he said, "it's not
one's enemies who do him injury; it's
his (1- —d fool friends. 1 have learn
ed to regard you highly, because you
are a brave uiau and an honest one.
but it seems that you are a sentimental
idiot."
"Dem is tough word." Doret replied
"But dere's reason w'y I can't tak' on
no madness. You say I'm hones'.
Waal, I'm hones' now, an' I come to
you wit' fair words, an' I show my
ban' to you - I don' hoi' out no cards,
m'sieu'—but I don' t'ink it is you who
have play square altogeder. I'm Ne
da's frien', an" I'll fight for her jus'
so queeeker lak you, but I mus' know
dis ting for sure, so if you have de
got id heart an' do courage of good mai
you'll tell me de truth. Do you have,
the feelin' for marry on her?"
The pause that followed was av.k
ward for both of them, while the girl,
who stood concealed near by. held her
breath and buried her nails ii; her
palms. Why did he hesitate? Would
he never speak?
"I am amazed at myself for listening
to you," he said at last, "and quite
shocked, in fact, at my answering your
questions, but perhaps IM better, after
all. First, however, let me say that
the little girl is just as pure now as
she was before she knew me."
Poleon threw up Ills hand. "M'siea,
dats more closer to de insult dan
wat you call me jus' vow. You don'
need for spoke it."
"You're right. There's no need to
tell you that. As for showing her cer
tain attentions—well, I admit that I
iiave, as you know; but, thank God, I
can say I've been a gentleman and ad
dressed her as I would the fairest lady
I've known."
"An' you mean for marry, eh?"
probed the other.
"I did not say so," Burrell declared
at last. "It's a thing I can't discuss,
because I doubt if you could under
stand what I would say. This life of
yours Is different from mine, and it
would be useless for me to explain the
reason why I cannot marry her. Leav
ing out all question of my sentiment,
there are insurmountable obstacles to
such a union. But, as to this talk, I
think that can be stopped without an
( noyance to her, and, as for the rest,
we must trust to time to bring about
a proper adjustment"—
A low, discordant sound of laughter
I arrested his words, and, turning, he be-
I held Necia standing revealed In the
| dimness.
"What an amusing person you are."'
she said. "I've had hard work hold
ing in all this time while you were tor
turing your mind and twisting the
honest English language out of shape
and meaning. I knew I should have
to laugh sooner or later. That's your
Dixie chivalry. I suppose. Well, I've
played with you long enough. Lieu
tenant Burrell. I'm tired of the game,
and you interest me no longer."
"You—you—say you've been playing
with me!" stammered the man. The
bottom of things seemed suddenly to
slide from under him. He was like
one sinking In some hideous quagmire.
He felt as if he were choking.
"Why, of course," she cried scorn
full;.-, "just as you took me up for
amusement. You were such a fine,
well dressed, immaculate mound of
conceit that I couldn't resist the temp
tation, and you hid your condescension
so poorly that I thought you ought to
be taken down a peg. I knew I was a
squaw, but I wanted to see if I were
not like other women, after all, and if
you were not like other men." She
was talking rapidly now, almost
shrilly, for she had never attempted to
act before, while he stood dazed and
speechless, fumbling at his throat
while she railed at him. "You needn't
waste time debating whether I'm good
enough for you. because I'm not—de
cidedly I'm not your kind, and you are
a joke to me."
He uttered an inarticulate cry, but
she ran on unheeding, her eyes wide
and glowin? like coals, her lips chalk
white. "You see, it's time I stopped
such foolishness anyhow, for I'm to
be married on Sunday."
"You are going to be married?" he
muttered laboriously.
"Yes, to Poleon. Why. that's been
understood for years."
He whirled upon the Canadian in a
fury, and his words came hot and tum
bling.
"D-don't blame him!" cried the girl
hysterically. "It is all my doing. He.
had no part in It."
"Yes," said Doret in a restrained
voice, "dis am' no work of mine."
"You're a liar!" breathed the Ken
tuckian, now fairly wild with anger,
but the other looked him squarely be
tween the eyes and made no move.
"M'sieu'," he cried. "I'm livin' forty
year an' never took no nam' lak dat
before, but dere's reason here w'y I
can't mak' no answer."
"Why, you aren't really angry, lieu
tenant?" mocked Necia. "It's only the
joke of an ignorant half breed girl
whose sense of humor is all out of
gear. You mustn't quarrel over a
squaw!"
She taunted him like a baited badger,
for this thing was getting beyond her
control, and the savage instincts of the
wilderness were uppermost.
"You are quite right," he replied. "I
am very foolish, and the laugh is with
you." His lips tried to frame a smile,
but failed. He bowed low and. turning,
walked out.
The moment he was gone she cried
breathlessly:
"You must marry me, Poleon. You've
got to do it now!"
"Do you mean dat for sure?" he said.
"Can't you see there's nothing else
for it after this? L'll show him that he
can't make me a toy to suit his conven
ience. I've told him I would marry
you on Sunday, and I'll do it or die. Of
course you don't love me, for you don't
know what love is, I suppose. How
could you?" She broke down and be
gan to catch her breath amid coughing
sobs that shook her slender body,
though they left her eyes dry and fe
verish. "I—l'm very unhappy, b-but
I'll be a good—wife to you. Oh. Poleon.
if you only knew" —
He drew a long breath. When he
spoke his voice had the timbre of some
softly played instrument, and a tremor
ran through bis words.
"No! I don' know wat kin' of love
is dis, for sure. I>e kin' of love I
"Five year I've wait—an' jus' for dis."
know is de kin' I sing 'bout in my
songs. I B'pose it s different breed to
yours, an' I'm begin to see it don' live
nowhere but on dem songs of mine.
Dere's long tarn' 1 waste here now—
five year—but tomorrow I go again
lookin' for my own countree."
"Poleon," she cried, looking uj) with
startled eyes, "not tomorrow, but Sun
day! We will go together."
He shook his head. "Tomorrow.
Necia! An' I go alone."
"Then you won't—marry me?" she
asked In a hushed and frightened voice.
"No! Dere's wan ting I can't do
even for you. Necia; defe's wan ting I
can't geeve, dats all—jus' wan on all
de worl'. I can't kill de 11T god wit'
de bow an' arrer. He's all dat mak'
de sun shine, de birds sing an' de
leaves w'isper to me; he's de wan liT
feller wat mak' my life wort' llvin' an'
keep music in my soul. If I keel 'im
dere am' no more lef lak It. an' I'm
never goin' fin' my lan of content
nor sing nor laugh no more. I'm
t'inkin' I would rader sing songs to
*lm all alone onderneat' de stars beside
my campflre an' talk wit' 'Im in ray
bark canoe dan go llvin' wit' you in
fine house an' let 'im get col' an' die."
"But I told him I'd marry you—that
I had always intended to. He'll be
lieve I was lying," she moaned in dis
tress.
"Dats too bad, but dis ting am' no
doin's wit' me. Dere's wan ting in
dis worl* mus' live forever, an' dats
love. If we kill 'im den it's purty poor
place for stoppin* in. I'm cut off my
nan' for help you, Necia, but I can't
be husban' to no woman in fun."
. Poleon waited patiently until her
paroxysm of sobbing had passed, then
gently raised her and led her out through
the back door into the summer day,
which an hour ago had been so bright
and promising and was now so gray
and dismal. He followed her with his
eyes until she disappeared Inside the
log house.
"An' dats de end of it all," he mused.
"Five year I've wait—an' jus' for dis."
Meade Burrell never knew how he
gained his quarters, but when he had
done so he locked his door behind him,
then loosed his hold on things mate
rial. He raged about the room like a
wild animal and vented his spite on
every Inanimate thing that lay within
reach. As yet his mind grasped but
dully the fact that she was to marry
another, but gradually this thought in
turn took possession of him. She
would be some oue else's wife in two
days. The thought drove the lover
frantic, and he felt that madness lay
that way if he dwelt on such fancies
for long.
As he grew calmer his reason began
to dissect the scene that had taken
place in the store, and he wondered
whether she had been lying to him.
after all. No doubt she had been en
gaged to the Frenchman and had al
ways planned to wed Poleon. for that
was not out of reason. She might
even have set out mischievously to
muse herself with him, but at the
recollection of those rapturous hours
they had spent together he declared
aloud that she had loved him, uud him
only. Every instinct in him shouted
that she loved him in spite of her
cruel protestations.
A man came with his supper, but he
called to him to begone. There are
those who believe that in passing from
daylight to darkness a subtle transi
tion occurs akin to the change from
positive to negative in an electrical
current and that this intangible, un
traceable atmospheric influence exerts
a definite psychical effect upon men
and their modes of thought. Be this
as it may, It is certain that as the
night grew darker the lieutenant's
mood changed. He lost his fierce an
ger at the girl and reasoned that he
owed it to her to set himself right in
her eyes; that in all justice to her he
ought to prove his own sincerity.
An up river steamboat was just land
ing as he neared the trading post—a
freighter, as he noted by her lights.
In the glare at the river bank he saw
Poleon and the trader, who had evi
dently returned from Lee'B creek, and
without accosting them he hurried on
0 the store. Peering in from the dark
aess, he saw Alluna. No doubt Necia
was alone in the bouse behind. So he
stumbled arouud to the back to find
the window of her room aglow behind
Its curtain, and, receiving no answer
to bis knock, be entered, for it was
customary at Gale's to waive cere
mony. Inside the big room he paused,
then stepped swiftly across and rap
ped at her door, falling track a pace an
she earns out.
Instead of speaking at once, as he
had planned, to prevent her escaping,
he was struck speechless, for the
vision that met his eyes was that
which he had seen one blithe spring
morning three months before, but to
night there was no shawl to conceal
her sweetly rounded neck and shoul
ders, whose whiteness was startling
against the black of the ballroom
gown. The slim gold chain hung
around her neck, and her hair was
piled high, as before. He noted every
smallest detail as she stood there wait
ing for him to speak, forgetful of ev
erything else.
She had put on the gown again to
see If perchance there might be some
mark of her blood or breed that had
escaped her previous scrutiny, and, as
there was no one to observe her, she
had attired herself slowly, absorbed
in her whimsy. Her wistful beauty
dazed the young man and robbed him
of the words he had rehearsed, but as
she made to flee from him, with a
pitiful gesture, toward her room the
fear of losing her arousod him and
spurred his wit.
"Don't go away! I have something
1 must tell you. I've thought it over,
and you've got to listen, Necia."
"I am listening." she answered very
quietly.
"Understand me, I'm not whining,
and I'm willing to take my medicine.
I couldn't talk or think very straight
this afternoon, but you were wrong."
"Yes, I know now I was wrong. It
was most unladylike, wasn't it? But,
yon see, I am only a little savage."
"I don't mean that. I mean you were
wrong when sou. said, JL had, jjlaved
with you. In the sftrht of Cod. 1 swenr
you were mistaken. You have made
me love you, Necia. Can't you see?"
She made no sign.
"If you can't I owe it to you and to
myself to set you right. 1 am not
ashamed to acknowledge my love, and
even when you are married to Poleon
I want you to know that I shall love,
you always."
Even yet she made.no sigu. Was he
not merely repeating the same empty
words with which he had so often be
guiled her? There was no wt rd of
marriage. He still considered her .un
worthy, beneath him.
"You do love me. Necia—you do! I
see It in your eyes!" And he started
toward her with open arms, but she
shrank away from him.
"No, no! Don't touch me!" she al
most screamed.
"My dear one," he breathed, "you
must listen to me. You have nothing
to fear, for I love you—love you—love
you! You were made for me! You'll
be my wife. Yes; you'll be married
on Sunday, but to me. not to Poleon or
any other man!"
Did she hear aright? Was he, her
soldier lover, asking her. the Indian
girl?
"You do love me, don't you?" he
pleaded. But still she could not speak,
and he tried to read the answer in her
swimming eyes.
"You mean—you want to-marry
me?" she murmured at last, hesitating
shyly at the word that had come to
play so momentous a part in her little
world.
"Indeed 1 do," he declared, with em
phasis, "in spite of everything, any
thing! Nothing else matters. I'll quit
the army. I'll give up the service and
my people too. I'll put everything
back of me, and we'll start out anew
just you and I."
"Wait a moment," she said, retreat
ing a little from his eager, outstretch
ed arms. "Why do you need to do all
that?"
"Never mind why. It's as good as
done. You wouldn't understand."
"But I think I do understand now.
I>o I really mean all that to you?"
"Yes, and more!"
"Listen to me," said the girl quietly.
"I want you to talk slowly so I may
not misunderstand. If you—marry
me must you forego all those great
things you speak of—your profession,
your family, your future?"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the soldier,
"if they don't bother me, Necia, why
should you worry?"
"Would you really have to give up
your family—your sister? Would those
people you are so proud of and who
are so proud of you—would they cut
you off?"
(Continued on Page Seven.)
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It's delicious.
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INC.
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Special Attention to Baggage.
Bus to All Trains and Uoi.s.
WENATCHEE, WAS,I
Phone 1101
The Fun
Family Theatre
in the
New Gehr & Fuller Concrete
Block.
Two Performances Daily.
Doors open afternoon at 2:30
and evening at 7:30.
The Bride of Batavia
Two Band Boxes
The Tumbler
The Village Quarrel
Master Blame Hingley will
entertain you with a new num
ber.
Illustrated Song: "Comrade
Mine," by Ray Harkness.
Amateur Night Thursday.
Program changes Monday,
Wedncday and Friday.
Hustling
Bat at year service. Cleaaiag,
Pi i—tag, Bye!** Hotel tails
given prenyt attention.
PkoM IMI. That's mm.
UNION DYE WORKS
BEST WOOD
OF THE SEASON
$7.50 PER CORD
DELIVERED
COAL
Perm. Anthracite per ton $18.00
Wellington screened
lump per ton $11.00
Pittsburg lump per ton $ 9.00
Centralia lump per ton $ 8.00
Gerber lump per ton $ 8.00
Pittsburg nut per ton $ 7.00
Wellington range ton $10.«0
Furnace Coal
Wellington screenings, per
ton $7.90
Other screenings from $5.00
to $6.00.
Above prices include delivery
within city limits.
GUY H. WHITSON &CO.
Phone 795 113 Orondo Aye.
ORCHARD
MBIT
80 ACRES —59 acres in timber, of
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oacres in orchard, 4% acres tv
bearing; largely Winesap apples.
12 acres in alfalfa; 4 acres more
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house 24x26, stone foundation,
good cellar. Barn 20x30 ft. Pack
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50 ACRES —7 acres In orchard, 4
acres in bearing, good varieties.
8 acres alfalfa. House 16x30 ft.,
with kitchen and dining room 24x
16 ft. Bath. Water piped in
house. Barn 30x30 ft. All for
$7,000. $2,000 cash will handle-
It.
LAKE BRIU
Phone 1452
Wenatchee, Washington.
Will
Exchange
House and lot
in Bellingham,
worth $4,000 for
Wenatchee
Realty.
Has 8 rooms with alcove
room and bath. Lot 100x100
feet, on Imperial street; has
30 fruit trees—apple, pear and
cherry; also raspberries, cur
rants and strawberries. Cement
walk on street and about the
house, good barn and wood
shed. Only 3 minutes to street
car. Modern and up to date
in every way. Will exchange
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and lot in Wenatchee.
5 acre tract \Vz miles from
Wenatchee postoffice, all set to
1 and 2 year old Wlnesaps.
Price $5,000; easy terms.
7 acres bearing orchard,
close in on Wenatchee avenue.
Price $16,800; terms.
J. S. MOONEY
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Wenatchee Aye. Phone 54