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The HEART OF NIGHT WIND A STORY Of THf GREAT NORTH WEST By VINGIE E.ROE ILLUSTRATION by RAY WALTERS C0PY/9/CHT OY DODO, MEAD AND COMPANY ' SYNOPSIS. —lo— —of Dally’* lumber camp dlract* a stranger to the camp. Walter Sandrv Introduce* hlmeelf to John Daily, fore man. aa “the Dilllngaworth Lumber Co., or moat of It” He makee acquaintance with the camp and the work. In an em ergency ho prove* to the foreman that he doe* not lack Judgmnnt. Slletz tell* him of the Preacher. He dlacover* that Blletx bear* th* sign of the Blletx tribe of In dian* and wonder* what her surname I*. In the flush of a tender moment he call* her “the Night Wind in the Pine*,” and kisaee her. Poppy Ordway. a magazine writer from New York, come* to Dally** to get material for a romance of the lum ber region. Hampden of the Yellow Pine* Co. claim* title to the East Belt and ■®t* up a cabin ori it. Bandry'* men pull down the cabin. Bandry** and Hampden** men light over the dis puted tract. The Preacher stop* the fight. Bandry And* that the deed to the East Belt ha* never been recorded. Poppy flirt* with Hampden to gala hi* confi dence. She fell* Bandry that Hampden 1* crooked and that *he'll get him. Poppy goes to Salem in search of evidence against Hampden. Bandry’* men desert him for Hampden, who ha* offered more money. Blletx goee to her friend* the Blwaahe* and persuade* them to work tor Bandry to save his contract. Poppy tell* Bandry that she ha* proof of Hamp den s filing bogus entries in collusion with the commission. She sees Biletz and Bandry talking together and becomes Jealous. The big timber raft Is started on is way. but Is blown up and Sandry Is dangerously injured. Poppy insist* on taking care of Sandry and says she is his promised wife. “No.” cries Slletz, "he kissed me and I am hi* woman.” In San -2*7 ■ delirium he gives Poppy a clue to ?*■ Poat. On recovering Daily tells him of the successful filling of hi* contract and w? 1,1111 ** 6 *■ going after Hampden SJtneelf and “get him ■traight.” Ma Dally show* Bandry Poppy’s notes of his delirious talk. Poppy plays with Hamp den. CHAPTER XlX—Continued. “But they say you’re goin’ to marry that da—beg yer pardon—that Johnny Eastern. That so? For God’s sake, girl, don’t say it!” Hampden’s red face was pale/ and she enjoyed seeing this coarse, bull like man shaken to his foundations. “And what if It is?” 'Til kill him! So help me heaven. 11l get him next —1 tell you I can’t stand for that!” "Get him next time,” she was saying swiftly to herself, “oh, Hampden, I fancy there’ll be a lot of getting— whether or not Walter Sandry wants me to quit—now, after all I’ve gone through with you to get my line staked out!” Aloud* she said at the same time, “No—lt Isn’t true.” And Hampden caught her hand and kissed it. March crawled by and April—May came in with the feel and look of sum mer—as It does in the western hills, warm and bright and eternally sunny Sandry wondered If it had ever rained Any exertion tired him cruelly, so be loafed about the office, sat on the east porch at the cook-shack, and talked idly with the three women, for Poppy Ordway. despite Ma Daily’s coldness and hints, and Slletz’ silence, still stayed on at the camp. Often Sandry watched her with a puzzled look In his eyea which all her cleverness had failed to fathom. There was a slight constraint be tween them. The work of the camp went on well. A bunch of lumberjacks from Sacramento had come In during April, and Sandry took them on. The Port land Lumber company received the second raft, a. smaller one, by the middle of May. and followed Its re ceipt with another order that would keep all bands and extra help at work until August. The pressing mortgage had been lifted by that first big check and the young owner felt his spirit surging within him like the growing year. Hla only worry was the fact that Hampden was building track and a log-trail Into the strip between camp and the East Belt from the south. He evidently meant to begin opera tions under Sandry’s very eyes. “Walter,” asked Miss Ordway, “how long are you going to wait before let ting me use my lever to pry Hamp den off?” She watched him with narrowed eyes. The strange reticence, the em barrassed reserve that had fallen upon Sandry of late and for which she could not account, kept his glance from hers as he answered: “Until I am able to go to Salem.” The woman’s exquisite cheeks flamed a dull crimson under their rose leaf pink—the heavy hue of anger— but she only smiled. “And I cannot help?” she asked wist fully. Sandry laughed, constrainedly. “I'll have to get him myself,” be reiterated, “and I can't fight him with my fists—though, by heaven. I’d like to!” At that moment Slletz eame around the corner of the house and Sandry’s eyes went to her as helplessly as the needle to the north and In them came Instantly an expression of wistful sad ness. That look sent a cold chill to the passionate heart of Poppy Ordway and In a flash she made a decision. The danger In Biletz was drawing near, she knew, though Sandry himself was unaware of It. “So lt’q going to be a fight?” she thought, while a sick rage hurried her breath; "all light! 1 guess I’ll have to use all my power.” “Walter,” she said suddenly. “I’m going east tomorrow." instantly be turned upon her, search lng her face with startled eyes, and though Miss Ordway was smiling sweetly at the girl, she knew that his face was going gray. "Yes?” he asked unsteadily. The tone pierced her heart with a pain that stung, but she put It resolutely aside. She bad determined to have this man by fair means or foul and she know that In the future she would repay him for any pain she might cause In the process of winning him “Yes,” she answered quietly, "but I’m coming back. I want to see my publishers.” CHAPTER XX. A Cruel Weapon. In the soberly correct offices of Farnsworth & Heathcote. one of New York’s most solid and reputable law firms, two persons sat talking. The honest roses In the cheeks of Miss Poppy Ordway bloomed glorious ly. Her raiment whispered sllklly when she moved her splendid shoul ders a bit more comfortably against the mahogany chair-back. “And now, Mr. Farnsworth,” she was saying, "car. you give me the full particulars of that mysterious rob bery?” The eminent lawyer’s quiet eyes were taking pleasurable note of the woman’s beauty, the concise handling of the discussion In hand. “As one of the attorneys for the estate of James B. Whitby. I think I am qualified to do so.” be stated gravely. “Then.” said Poppy Ordway. open ing a little red morocco notebook at a page far to the back, "let us pro ceed.” Mr. Farnsworth spread out before him a set of papers. “ 'First —Standard Coppor and Zinc company, consolidated.’ ” he read with out preface, "one of the most conserve tlve and entirely solvent concerns in the country. Under the control and In the hands of Whitby, Halstead. Witherspoon & Haste “ 'Suspected of crooked methods. Twice Involved in suits at law. charged with rate and rebate swindles. ** ‘Second —On the night of June 18. 1899, President Whitby had In his pos session. for what reason has never been made known, at his bachelor apartments at Whitby place, Aredale $502,000 In banknotes of high denomt nations. He bad sent away his man for the night and was entirely alone. “ ‘Third —He was found at ntnq o’clock the next morning, in his library, sitting before a table, several hours dead. Under his hand lay an unfin ished letter. This letter follows, ver batim : Arcade Place. New York City, New York. June 18. 1899. 1. James B Whitby, president of the Standard Copper and Zinc company. Con solidated. sit down to write what I be lieve will be my last word on earth. The telephone wire* have been cut, my man is away for the night, and 1 am en tirely alone In the grip of one of qiy re current attacks of heart trouble, but my brain la abnormally clear. I brought out last evening from business $602,000, for reasons known to myself—all of it in bills of high denomination. At one o'clock this night 1 looked up to face a pistol held by a man, a young man who was unmasked. “You may as well be patient." he said quietly, "for I Intend having a talk with you.” Then followed what sufficed to heut me into the greatest rage of my life—an ac cusation of myself, my methods and my Arm. the statistical coldness of which was the acme of studied Insolence. He was n young man. almost a boy. Just home from a year In Europe after col lege. He had. it appears, found his father n bankrupt, through unwise speculations of a partner, and tracing some transactions to me, laid It nil at my door. He de manded the money I had In my posses sion—at the point of the pistol! Shaking with rage 1 obeyed, and threat ened to expose him by dnyllght. He cool ly told me I would not dare because of proofs, in his hands, which Hvould states prtson me. and which proofs I positively know do not exist. The atTnir, I believe at this writing will coat me my life, so vitally did It stir my anger, and here and now before my strength falls, let me commend him to the fullest limit of the law for punish ment. He is as truly my murderer as if he had fired his gun. to tills I ißkrear. and his name Is— “ There,“ finished the attorney, "the letter ended, signed only by the band of death, leaving the greatest mystery of the times. There waß no trace of the young man with the pistol. “There has been found no trace of the immense bundle of banknotes, as there could be found no record of their numbers nor any word of where Mr. Whitby got them. There has been found nothing, as all the world knows. The estate has employed the best de tective talent of the country to no avail. There are no true clues, opin ions or theories. All are false when applied.” With lightning rapidity Mlsb Ord way had been following the attorney's reading in shorthand in the red note book. ‘‘Ah!’’ she said with a breath of satisfaction, "that is excellent! Excel lent—and it closes the first matter of which 1 spoke. Now for the second.” She smiled Into Mr. Farnsworth’s eyes in her own bewitching manner as she told the small lie, for there were no two matters upon which she had THE GILPIN OBSERVER. sought intelligence, but one only and that of so gigantic and uncertain a nature that she felt as If she wera handling dynamite which might ex plode any moment However, the air of finality with which she folded the notebook and thereby seemed to dismiss the great Whitby mystery deceived that shrewd and far-seeing man. Farnsworth, him self. He saw no connection between her two sets of questions when she, seem ing to turn the trend of her own mind into an entirely different channel, put her next query. "And now, Mr. Farnsworth,” she said briskly, "what do you know of the name ’Sandry’?” The lawyer waa folding up his pa pers and putting thorn carefully away in the drawer. "Sandry? Why—not very much. Miss Ordway. Simply that there Is a firm by the name of Sandry & Mussel dorn which deals in fancy horses and racing stock. They have magnificent breeding farms In New Jersey and ore rated as rather more than financially solid. Mr. Wilton Sandry. the senior partner, is an old man. of very fine presence, an Invalid since three years ago—tied to a wheel chair in his man Bion on Riverside drive. Musseldorn. a clever man. extremely capable and pleasant.” "And Is that all? Has this Mr. Wil ton Sandry any family?” "Why, let me see—yes, I believe there is a son. one son. The mother is dead.” "And where la this son?" ”1 do not know. He has been In Europe, 1 believe, though it seems to me that he returned some time ago." "U’m," Miss Ordway was saying to herself—”a year in Europe, after col lege." Twenty minutes later the eminent lawyer walked down with her to where her runabout waited. As she threaded among the teeming traffic, Poppy Ordway was saying to herself, "Wilton Sandry, financially solid. James B. Whitby robbed by a man —a young man just home from a year in Europe, after college, whose father he had found bankrupt by un wise speculation of a partner and tlje said James B. Whitby. And Walter Sandry In the Oregon hills mutters of ‘Ruined! Ruined! And he does not know!’ ‘Legitimate! It is done legitimately!’ and ‘I am the law this night, James B. Whitby!’ Ah me! Walter —Walter—heart of my beart, fire of my blood—you’re the man with the pistol!” CHAPTER XXI. The Right Law. Once again Poppy Ordway was back at Daily’s. Seemingly nothing had happened in her absence. Sandry was a little stronger, a bit more impattent to be at the work, able to go about the camp apd the tilted meadow. He was pale still, and to her passionate eyes more to be desired than ever. Shf» noticed quickly how wistfully tender was the face of Slletz, and how the girl stayed apart from Sandry in a certain diffidence. This was balm to her fears and her anxiety. She went bafk to her work with re newed vigor She was happier here in this wild country than she had ever been In her life, filled with the excite ment of Fame that lured and Love that beckoned, and. so she believed, able to capture both. Then one day an Incident took place that caused her to see that she must let him feel the steel beneath the velvet. As usual, she sat In the golden after noon on the .east porch, her work for the day being over, and Sandry lounged on the loweßt step, his elbow "There,” Finished the Attorney, "the Letter Ended.” on the floor and hlB bat pulled low over bla oycß, gazing down the valley Presently there came a sound, u rhythmic sound, at first far off, then coming nearer, the rolling thunder of a big horse In full flight, and up from the lower rollway came Black Bolt gleaming, dark, Bplendld. As If she were a part of him, Slletz rode, Bway lng with her loose motion that always suggested the very drunkenness of speed. In her arm she held a great bunch of wild bleeding-hearts, tbelr brilliant crimson splashing gorgeously along her olive throat, where the blue shirt lay open a bit. With a slight pressure of knee and heel the girl sent the great black berse directly at the steps of the porch. Ab be came on Mtsa Ordway sprang up with a little scream, overturning her chair. But Saadry sat unflinching on the lowest step, smiling. Within three feet of him Black Bolt lowered his head, set his feet and came to a splen did stop. Slletz leaned forward and dropped her burden In Sandry’s lap, showering him with the blood of the bleeding heart s. She did not look at him. Then they trotted away around the corner to the shed and Sandry’s lips tight ened pitifully as he gathered up each smallest spray of the woods-treasures Where she stood back against the wall, one hand at her pulsing throat, Miss Ordway saw that tightening of the lips, the droop that came Into the man's whole face, and- her eyes nar rowed and hardened like a cat’s. That night she came to him in the eating room. "Walter,” she said, “I’m ’stuck' In the middle of a chapter. Will you go over a few pages with me and give me the benefit of a man's ideas?” He smiled *Tm afraid mine will not be of much account, but such as they are you are welcome to them." "They will answer.” said Miss Ord way. a woman cannot write from her self for men—she must write from man to man. Vll bring my manuscript out here.” And turning, she went from him to the sanctuary of the little south room When she returned she carried a hand ful of closely typewritten pages. They drew up one of the pine benches, spread out the manuscript be tween the catchup bottles and sat down together. Instantly with the touch of the shift ing sheets in her fingers Miss Ordway seemed to drift away from the per sonal. She becume detached, absorbed, swallowed up in the thrall of work and Sandry had a feeling of what such a work must mean to one. “Now see," she said, half excitedly, "here is the point about which 1 am a trifle in doubt. But 1 will have to sketch the situation for you so you can get a grip on it." She turned toward him, spreading out fiat on the paper one exquisite hand Among her other hidden vani ties, Poppy Ordway cherished an inor dinate pride in these hands of hers — and she knew their value and their po tency to the last atom. With an unconscious appreciation Sandry now looked down at It where It spread across the page. Uncon sciously. too, his mind caught a shad owy comparison—the memory of the olive-colored, slim hands of the girl Slletz But she was speaking and he looked again. "Now suppose ray hero Is confront ed with a man—his friend. It hap pens —who. In the pfausible and un impeachable methods of modern busi ness. has calmly become possessed of ray hero s wealth. There is no pos sible way of touching the swindler, for it has been done in a manner that gives it the Booming of legality. Yet the victim knows in his heart that the other is a thief. Now here is my point—” Miss Ordway was talking slowly as if thinking carefully and no one listen ing would have suspected that the words she uttered were purely me chanical, having been written out and memorized that afternoon, and that her mind was busy with a different set of ideas. In fact, this was what she was thinking, tabulating rapidly a set of items. “Widening eyes—aroused Interest, abnormal. Fingers tapping the table— startled nerves. No suspicion, but as tonisbment at so unique a coinci dence.” Aloud she was going on: ‘‘Suppose my hero to be a modern man of aver age good principles, could he bring himself to steal back deliberately an amount equal to. or compensating for, the amount stolen from him, and not consider himself a criminal? Could he go out among men with his head up, not deeming himself a thief? And would the modern man of average honor do such a thing?” Miss Ordway was leaning forward, seemingly absorbed In her problem, her eyes on Sandry's face, where con dieting expressions were struggling for the mastery. In a moment!” she was Baying to herself, eager as a hound; “In a mo ment he will commit himself!” for the bright, blue glance of the young owner wavered a bit. he opened his Ups, shut his hand upon the oilcloth and his jaw hardened with tautened muscles. “No! He wouldn’t be a thief—that would be the right law." Every nerve in Miss Ordway's body jumped, though there was no outward sign, as the tension that had been growing between them snapped with the voice of Slletz. The girl had stopped on the far side of the room, unnoticed by either, and now she stood leaning forward with her hands upon the table, her braids hanging beside them The shadow of her parted hair was over her eyes. Mlbb Ordway's fingers crawled into her palm, rigid with u desire to inflict bodily pain upon thiß uninvited blun derer. But Slletz was of the wilder ness and she did not know she had committed a faux pas She knew only that she bad become absorbed In the exigencies of this mythical man confronted by so grave a problem and she spoke as unconsciously as a child. With a deep breath exhaled slowly, as if a swimmer drew in sweet air, Sandry lifted his eyes to her. The right law I” he said. “Yes S'letz Is right. And a man would do it If he had an incentive grout enough —even a sane man of today—with the average honor. And he would hold up his head If he was of the strength to do the thing at all." For a moment Miss Ordway sat si lent. regarding him Intently. "Good!” she said at last, "then you think I may go on without danger of overdrawing my character?” "Unquestionably.” She dropped her eyes, toying with a bone-handled fork lying near. “Thanks. Walter,” she said at last gently; “I shall go on with more confi dence. It Is a daring thing to make my hero do—but—the woman loves him in spite of a thousand crimes— above and beyond them.” Her heart was beating so fast that her white throat fluttered spasmod ically at the soft hollow at the base and she knew that she took a chance. She knew also, as Sandry rose ab ruptly and left the room, that he had felt the steel, for his face was gray again. In the silence of the little south room she stood long, staring into the yellow flame of the hand lamp on the Miss Ordway Was Talking Slowly. stand. Then, suddenly, she covered her flushed face with her hands and shuddered. “If 1 should blunder!" she gasped, “my God! If 1 should fall to win him after all! Oh. Walter. Walter —heart of my heart!” (TO BE CONTINUED.) HISTORY ONE OF BLOODSHED Record of Serbia Ha* Been a Continu ous Tale of Atrocity and Wrong* It Was Powerless to Avenge. The characteristics of no people In Europe are probably so little known to the world at large as those of Ser bia. The Serbians are a primitive people with strong passions and in spired as are all primitive people by the clan spirit. The vendetta and blood feud prevail among them. Of the seven Serbian princes who have ruled the land since the beginning of the nineteenth century the first. Kara georgevltch. was murdered; the sec ond. Prince Milosh, was expelled; the third. Prince Michael, was murdered; the fourth, Alexander Karageorge vltch. had to abdicate; the fifth. King Milan Obrenovltch. was expelled; the sixth. King Alexander 1. was mur dered; the seventh. King Peter, the present ruler, has spent much of his life in exile. Serbia is a peasuut state with a liberal and progressive consti tution. The national parliament is elected by universal male suffrage and a large proportion of the members be longs to the peasant class It is a ho mogeneous nation of Independent farmers. It has been called "the poor man's paradise,” a* there are inex* haustible mineral resources in the mountains, but Serbia has been less explored than the most remote parts of the United Stateß. Painting With Airbrushes. Painting and varnishing or large surfaces Is now bolng successfully ac complished by means of airbrushes, which send the liquid paint In a huge spray all over the object. At a big furniture factory In New York they place a chair upon a revolv. lng platform under a galvanized iron hood. In the back of which Is an elec tric fan drawing the air out Into an ex haust due. and In the top of which are electric lamps In front of relleetorß. The painter stands with un object that looks like a pistol In his hand This is tho airbrush, which Is attached to a tube leading from a tank in which the paint Is under 70 pounds of pressure furnished by a dynamo and Is kept con stantly stirred On pressing the trig ger the paint 's projected like a show er bath all over the chair Have Something to Say. Robert W. Chambers gave this ad vice to the beginner some years ago, says tho Strand, and It holds good to day: "Have something to say and loarn by experience bow to say It. The Im portant thing, to be bu Ib something to say. Tho trouble with most peoplo who try to write storleß Is that they liavo nothing to ’rite about. Next, don't talk about It, io It. A writer can mako bis own market. "It 1b the only way to do. Write what appeals to you, and tlDd a pub lisher who will take It. Don’t go to a publisher and ask him what be wants. Mako him want wbat you have ■o offer. If It Is the real thing you won't have much difficulty. You will •break into print' with vour first ef fort." Uncle Eben. "Patience Is line," Bald Uncle Nben, "et It keeps a man workin’. But It ain't much good of It keeps him stick- In' to a crap game." Dally Thought. He that will not reason Is a bigot, be that cannot reason Is a fool, and be that dares not reason Is • slave.— Sir W. Drummond. A REMARKABLE STATEMENT Mra.Sheldon Spent SI9OO for Treatment Without Bene fit Finally Made Well by Lydia EL Pinkham’s Veg etable Compound. Englewood, 111. "While going through the Change of Life l suffered with headaches,ner vousness, flashes of heat, and 1 suffered so much I did not know what I was doing at times. I spent SI9OO on doc tors and not one did me any good. One day a lady called at my house and said she had been as sick as I was atone time, and Lydia E. Pink- J ham’s Vegetable Compound mado her well,so I took it and now lam just as well as I ever was. I cannot understand why women don’t see how much pain anti suffering they would escape by taking your medicine. 1 cannot praise it enough for it saved my life and kept me from the Insane Hospital.”—Mrs. E. Sheldon, ECG7 S. Halsted SL, Englewood, 111. Physicians undoubtedly did their best, battled with this case steadily and could do no more,hut often the most scientific treatment is surpassed by the medicinal properties of the good old fashioned roots and herbs contained in Lydia EL Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. If any complication exists II pays to write the Lydia E. Pink* liam Medicine Co., Lyon, Mm for special free advice. Her Champion. Miss Gabble—l think you were pres ent when she remarked that I had a big mouth. Mlsb Kato —Yes. and I took occasion to set her right. 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