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The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, August 16, 1912, Image 7

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88076741/1912-08-16/ed-1/seq-7/

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Kin-v
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was
p$mm"^n
J,^**'lTl!iSpwgMMittl*""titM
Enid Maltland.a (rank, free and un
spoiled young Philadelphia girl, la taken
the Colorado mountaina by her-uncle,
feert Maltland. James Armstrong,
aitland'S protege, falls In love with her.
His persistent wooing thrill* the girl, but
she hesitates, and Armstrong goes east
on business without a definite answer.
Enid hears tho story of a mining engi
and was so seriously hurt that he was
compelled to shoot her to prevent her be
ing eateri by wolves while he went for
help. Klrkby, the old guide who tells the
story, gives Bpld a package of letters
which ne says were found on the dead
woman's body. She reads the letters and
at Kirkby*s request keeps them. .While
bathing in mountain* stream Enid is at
tacked by a bear, which is mysteriously
•hot. A storm adds to the girl's terror.
A sudden deluge transform brook into
raging torrent, which sweeps Enid Into
gorge, where she is rescued by a moun
tain hermit after a thrilling experience.
Campers in great confusion upon dlscov
ing Enid's absence when the storm
breaks. Maltland and Old Kirkby go in
search of the girl. Enid discovers that'
her ankle Is sprained and that she is un
able to walk. Her mysterious rescuer
carries her to hls.oamp.
1
fiP
t,
:-.C-
'v
p:
ify
A.
"'A,
SWiP$ tisk. He did not bother her with
planatibn, discussion or other cdnver*
I'tir satlon, for whichshe was most thank*
ML Once or twice during the flow
progress she tried to walk, but the
feotneorlycauaed her to faint He
•. toade complaint about his burden
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A* iw
CHAPTER IX (Continued).
He did not make any apology (or,
his next action, he just stooped down
and, disregarding her faint protests
and objections, picked her up In his
arms. She was by no means a light
burden, and he did not run away with
her as the heroes of romances do.
But he was a man far beyond the
average in strength, and with a stout
heart and a resolute courage that had
Olways carried him successfully
through whatever he attempted, and
he had need of all his qualities, physi
os! and mental, before he finished
feat awful Journey.
The woman struggled a little at
tart, thflfk finally resigned, herself to
He Stared at Her In Great Alarm.
gituatloii Indeed, she thought""
swiftly, there was nothing else to do,
•he had ,no choice, she could not,have
been left alone there la the rocks In
that rain,• she could not walk. He
doing the only thing possible The
ISp'flljfep oompulslon of the Inevitable was upon
tt
both»
tiften
•t0i»ed" tor rest, at which tjfrnes he
•*OiMd:-l,MA'"her tenderly uponisome
prootro^s tree, or some rounded boul
der untll h* was ready to reimjairhis'
that day the sweat stood out on his
forehead,-his legs trembled under hiw»:
How he made the last five hundred
feet up the steep wall to a certain
broad shelf perhaps an acre in extent
where he had built his hut among the
mountains, he never knew but the.
last remnant of his force was. spent
when he finally opened the unlatched
door wtth his foot, carried her in the
log hut and laid her upon the bed or
bunk built against one wall of the
cabin.
Yet the way he put her down was
characteristic of the man. That last
•estige of strength had served him
well. He'did not drop her as a less
thoughtful and less determined man
might have done, he laid her there as
gently and as tenderly as if she
weighed nothing, and as If he had car
ried her nowhere. 80 quiet and easy
was Ms handling of her that she did
not wake up at once.
3o soon as she was out of bis arms,
he stood up and stared at hei» in great
alarm, which soon gave way to reas
surance. She had not fainted, there
was a little tinge of color in her cheek
that had rubbed up against his rough
hunting coat she was asleep, her reg
ular breathing told him that Sleep
was of course the very best of medi
cines for her, and yet she should not
be allowed to sleep until she had got
rid of her wet clothing and until
something had been done for her
wounded foot It was indeed an em
barrassing situation.
He surveyed her for a few moments
pondering how best to begin. Then
realising the necessity for immediate
action, he bent over her and woke heir
•topt,
MTh«r»
arms
tired, so worn oat
api. Again she stared at him
wilderment until he spoke.
^Thtei is my house," he said, "we
sjre home."
,' ''Home! "sobbed the
"Under shelter, then," said the man.
"You are very tired and very sleepy,^ time nervously and in
but them Is something to be done
you most take off those wet clothes
at once, you must have something to
eat, and I must have a look at that
and thenyoucsnhave your
sleep out"
The girl stared at him, his program.
If a radical one under the circum
suncjes, was nevertheless a rational,
one, indeed tho only .one. How was It
bo. carried outt The man omII^
ifUytotd her thoughts.
is another room this
house, atoro room. I cook la there."
he ssld.1am going in there now to
!«e|!^^^cm»i^»In» .to oat meanwhile
you must undress yourself and g9 to
shelves dr|i^iin^ a curtain, appar
mm.
1
LMfWJUUiitf: lnwwn——Mt—m THIIIHiH Hillin
ri'iiiiirinii'r'r"*irrMri j—wfl—waa
Cyrgg
gase with his own. "I am a woman,
absolutely alone, entirely at your
mercy you are stronger than I, I
have no choice but to do what you
bid me. And In addition to the nat
ural weakness of my sex I am the
more helpless from this foot What
do you intend to do with me? How
do you mean to treat me?"
It was a bold, a splendid question,
and It evoked the answer it merited.
"As God is my Judge," said the man
quietly, "Just as you ought to be
treated, as I would want another to
treat my mother, or my sister, or my
wife"—she noticed how curiously his
lips suddenly tightened at that word—
"If I had one. I never harmed a wom
an in my life," he continued more
earnestly, "only one, that Is," he cor
rected himself, and mice again she
marked that peculiar contraction of
the lips. "And I could not help that,"
he added.
"I trust you," said the girl at last,
after gazing at him long and bard as
If to search out tbe. secrets of bis very
soul. "You have saved my life and
things dearer will be safe with you.
I have to trust you."
'1 hope," came the quick comment,
"that it Is not only for that don't
want to be trusted upon compulsion."
"You must have fought terribly for
my life in the flood," was the answer.
"I can remember what it was now,
and you carried me over the rocks
and the mountains without faltering.
Only a man could do what you have
done. I trust you anyway."
"Thank you," said tbe man briefly
as he' bent over the Injured foot again.
ThO boot.laced up the front, the
•hotti skirt left all plainly visible.
Wlth deft fingers he undid, the sodden
knot and unlaced it, then stood hesi
tatingly for a moment
'1 dont lite to cut your only pair
of shoes," he said as he made a
slight motion to draw It off, and then
observing-the. spasm of pain, stopped.
"Needs must," he continued, taking
out his knife and slitting the
leather*.
He did It very carefully so as not
to ruin- the boot beyond repair, and
finally succeeded in getting it off
without giving, ber too much pain.
Aiid she was not so tlretbor so miser
able as to be unaware of his gentle
ness. Hlg manner, matter of fact
business like, If be had been a doctor
one would have called it professional,
distinctly pleased her in this trying
and unusual position. Her stocking
was Stained with blood. The man rose
to his feet, took from a rude home
made chair a light Mexican blanket
and'laid it considerately across the
girl.
"Now if you can manage to get off
your stocking yourself, I will see what
can be done," he said, turning away.
It was the work of a few seconds
foi* her to comply with his request.
Hanging tbe wet stocking carefully
over a chair back, he drew back the
blanket a little and carefully inspect
ed the poor little foot He saw at
once that It was not an ordinary
sprained ankle, but It seemed to him
that her foot had been caught be
tween two tossing logs, and had been
badly bruised. It was very painful,
but would not take so long to heal as
a sprain.. The little foot, normally so
white, was now black and blue and
the skin had been roughly torn and
broken. He brought a basin of cold
water and a towel and washed off the
blood, the girl fighting down the ytn
and successfully stifling any outcry.
"Now," ho said, "you must put on
this gown and get into bed. By the
time you are ready for It I will have
some broth for you and then we will
bandage that foot I shall not come
In here for some time, you will be
quite alone and safe."
Ho turned and left the room, shut
ting the door after him ds he went
out Fbr a second time that day Enid
Maltland undressed herself and this
great haste.
She waa almost too excited and ap
preheiistve to re«all the painful cir
cumstances attendant upon h«r first
disrobing. She said she trusted the
man absolutely, yet she would not
have been human If she. had not
looked most anxiously, toward, that
closed door,. He made plenty of noise
in tho other room, bustling about as
If to reassure her.
She could* not rest tho Wight of
her body on her left foot, and getting
rid of her wet clothes vii a some
what slow process In spite of ber
harry, made more ho by h* extreme
aervousness. Tho gown He gave her
"was far too big for her, hat soft and
worm and exquisitely clean. It*toap*
Od her alight fiffwrt afrnplfteiy. Leav
Ihg her sodden garments whfaa they
for she #a* iot^a# to
^ls§^M§§i
mmm
ilwv
posed herself when he knocked, lpud
upon her door.
"May I come In?" he asked.
When she bade him enter she saw
he had in his hand a saucepan full of
some steaming broth. She wondered
how he had made It in such a hurry,
but after he poured It into a granite
ware cup and offered it to her, she
took It without question. It was thick,
warming and nourishing. He stood by
her and insisted that she take more
and more. Finally she rebelled.
"Well, perhaps that will do for to
night," he said now let's have a look
at your foot"
She observed that he had laid on
the table a long roll of white cloth
she could not know that he had torn
up one of his sheets t& make ban
dages, but so It was. He took the lit
tle toot tenderly in his hands.
'1 am going to hurt you," he said.
'1 am going to find out it there is
anything more than a bruise, any
bones broken."
'There was no denying that he did
pain her exquisitely.
"I can't help it," he said as she
cried aloud, "I have got to see what's
the matter. I am almost through
now."
"Go on, I can bear it," she said
faintly. '1 feel so much better, any
way, now that I am dry and warm."
"So far as I can determine," said
the man at last, "It Is only a bad, ugly
bruise the skin is torn, It has been
battered, but It Is neither sprained
nor broken, and I don't think it is go
ing to be very serious. Now I am go
ing to bathe it in the hottest water
you can bear, and then I will bandage
it and let you go to sleep."
He went out and came back with a
kettle of boiling water, with which h^
laved again and again the poor, torn,
battered little member. Never In her
life had anything been so grateful as
these repeated applications of hot wa
ter. After a while he applied a heal
ing lotion of some kind, then he took
his long roll of bandage and wound
It dexterously around her foot, not.
drawing it too close to prevent circu
lation, but Just tight enough for sup
port, then as he finished she drew it
back beneath the cover.
"Now-," said he, "there is nothing
more I can do for you tonight, is
there?"
"Nothing."
"I want you to go to sleep now, you
will be perfectly safe here. I am go
ing down the canon to search
"No," said the girl apprehensively.
"I dare not be left alone here be
sides I know how dangerous it would
be for you to try to descend the canon
in this rain you have risked enough
tor me, you muBt wait until the morn
ing I shall feel better then."
"But think of the anxiety of your
Mends."
"I cant help it," was the nervous
reply. "I am afraid to be left alone
here at night"
Her voice trembled he was fearful
she would have a nervous breakdown.
"Very well," he said soothingly, "I
will not leave you till the morning."
"Where will you stay?"
'Til make a shakedown for myself
in the store room," he answered, "I
shall be right within call at any time."
It had grown dark outside by this
time and the two in the log but could
barely see each other.
'1 think I shall light the fire," con
tinued the man, "it will be sort of
company for you and it gets cold up
here nights at this season. I shouldn't
wonder if this rain turned into snow.
Besides, it win dry your clothes for
you."
Then he went over to the fireplace,
struck a match, touched it to the
kindling under the huge logs already
prepared, and In a moment a cheerful
blaze was roaring up through tbe
chimney. Then he picked up from the
floor where she had cast them in a
heap her bedraggled garments. He
straightened them out as best he
could, hung them over the backs of
chairs and the table, which he drew
as near to the fire as was safe. Hav
ing completed this unwonted task ho
turned to the woman who had watch
ed him curiously and nervously the
while.
1m there anything more that I can
do for youf*
"Nothing. You have teen as kind
and gentle as you were strong and
brave.? •.
He throw his hand oat with a depre
cating gesture.
^Are you oatto comfortable
"Aud your foot?"
1 "Seem very much better."
iGood night, thip. I will oaU,you
I* tho mornta*.* ,f
"Good nlfht," slid tho girl grate-
foMy» "Md Qod bless you fpr f^trwe
an& aoblo awl,* 7^ A?-
CHAPTEfe X.
I
en latch and no lock. Closed it served
to hide the occupant of one room
from the view of the,other, otherwise
it was but a feeble protection. Even
had It possessed a lock, a vigorous
man could have burst it through in a
moment
These thoughts' did not come very
clearly to Enid Maltland. Pew
thoughts of any kind came to her.
Where she lay she could see plainly
the dancing.light of the glorious fire.
She was warm, the deftly wrapped
bandage, the healing lotion upon her
foot, had greatly relieved the pain in
that wounded member. The bed was
hard but comfortable, much more so
than the sleeping bags to which of
late she had been accustomed.
Few women had gone through such,
experiences, mental and physical, as
had befallen her within the last few
hours and lived to tell the story. Had
It not been for the exhaustive strains
of body and spirit to which she had
been subjected, her mental faculties
would have been on the alert and the
strangeness of her unique position
would have made her so nervous that
she could not have slept
For the time being, however, the
physical demands upon her entity
were paramount she was dry, she
was warm, she was fed, she was free
from anxiety and she was absolutely
unutterably weary. Her thoughts
were vague, inchoate, unconcentrated.
The fire wavered before her eyes, she
closed them in a few moments and
did not open them.
Without a thought, without a care,
she fell asleep. Her repose was com
plete, not a dream even disturbed the
profound slumber into which she
sank. Pretty picture she made her
head thrown backward, her golden
hair roughly dried and quickly plait
ed In long braids, one of which fell
along the pillow while the other
curled lovingly around her neck. Her
face, in the natural light would have
looked pallid from what she had gone
through, but the fire cast red glows
upon It the fitful light .flickered
across her countenance and some
times deep shadows unrelieved ac
centuated thf: paleness born of, her
sufferings.. Ipf
There to nb light that playi so
many tricks with tho Imagination, or
that so stimulates the fancy as the
light of an opon fire. In lts sudden
oathursts it sometimes seems to add
life touches to the sleeping aad the
d«ad- H*d tbore beon any eye to see
this girl, she would have made, a de
lightful picture^ in the warm glow
from the stone hearth. There were
no eyea to look, however, save those
"Which belonged to tho maa 'on tho
othfr side of the doOr.
Oa 0o Sltttr slde of that door ht
tho too* where the flrs barged on tar
hearth,there*100^rest la tho Boartot
$0 oo^Mot oa the Huftoir
*»-.«•» j""* or"*?
was wawt
He Walked Nervously Up and Down
waa^nolaek
AWS^UVi^JSiibM/
iP^^fF'"
v. '.'J M'- -1!.• W.Rm
Albeit the room was smaller than
the other, It was 6till of a good slse.
He walked nervously up and down
from one end to the other as cease
lessly as a wild animal impatient of
captivity stalks the narrow limits of
his contracted cage. The even tenor
of his life had suddenly been diverted.
The ordinary sequence of his dayo
had been abruptly changed. The pri
vacy of five years which he had hoped
and dreamed might exist as long a*
he, had been rudely broken in upon.
Humanity, which be had avoided.
from which he had fled, which he had-H""
cast away forever, had found him.
Abiit, excessit, evaslt, eruplt! And, lo,.^tf
his departures were all in vainf Tho
world with all its grandeur and its in-^'^
if an it a it a
its weaknesses, with all Its opportn*' :??f
nities and its obligations, with all tto^m
joys and its sorrows, had knocked at
his door and that the knocking hand^'-i'.
was that of a woman, but added to':!*v:
his perplexity and to his dismay.
He had cherished a dream that ho
could live to himself alone with but a
memory to bear him company, and
from that dream he had been tbun«
derously awakened. Everything was.^
changed. What had once been easyW..
had now become impossible. Ho
might send her away, but though ho ^'s
Bwore her to secrecy she would bavo'§{f
to tell her story and something of his
the world would learn some of it and®-|%
seek him .out with insatiable curios-'^
lty to know the rest.
Eyes as keen as his would present*.
ly search and scrutinize the mono*
tains where he had roamed ahme.
They would see what he had seen*
find what he had found. Mankind,
ft
•9T4
gold-lusting, would swarm and bm
upon the hills and fight aad love aad
breed and die. Great God!
He could of course move on, tat,,
where? And went he whithersoever:
be might, he would now nrrmeltj
carry with him another memory
which would not dwell withl*
Slower, laboriously, painfully, he*%,
had 'hajflfefrls. house .upon the sandJpM
ftnd thjKgwlnds had blown and th»t
floods hSt ©Ome. not only la a mood1
but in sptffltnal significance, and
one day thi^ house had fallen..
stood* amid the, wrecked remain* of
trying to recreate It. t©,*ndow
more wtth the fitted precision of
past the shapeleM broken twits 4#
*M!o ho roaeated the
age, passlonato Intensity
on of W
WMle he throbhed
altar .and' alsiost'i'as-iHtiijfc"
W.':
4
mind in harmony with the otfttmgeV
which until that day had been puir
mount there alone.

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