The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise., November 01, 1922, Page PAGE THREE, Image 3

About The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise. (Cody, Wyo.) 1921-1923

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WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1922.
The Strength of the Pines
CHAPTER XXVI
—ll—
twilight at Trail’s End Is never
long In duration, due to the simple fact
that the mountains cut off the flood of
light from the west after the setting
of the sun, but tonight there seemed
none at all. The reason was merely
that heavy banks of clouds swept up
from the southeast just after sunset.
They came with rather startling rap
idity and almost immediately complete
ly filled the sky. Young Bill had many
things on bls mind as he rode beneath
them; yet he found time to gaze at
mem with some curiosity. They were
of singular greenish hue, and they
hung so low that the tops of nearby
mountains were obscured.
The fact that theie would be no
moon tonight was no longer Important.
The clouds would ha-e cut off any tell
tale light that might illumine the ac
tivities of the Turners. There would
not be even the dim mist of starlight.
Young Bill rode from house to house
through the estate —the homes occu
pied by Simon’s brothers and cousins
and their respective families. He
knocked on each door and he only
gave one little message. “Simon wants
you at the house,” he said, “and come
heeled.**
He would turn to go, but always a
singular quiet and breathlessness re
mained In the homes after his de
parture. There would be a curious
exchange of glances and certain signif
icant sounds. One of them was the
metallic click of cartridges being
slipped Into the magazine of a rifle.
Another was the buckling on of spurs,
and perhaps the rattle of a pistol in
Its holster. Before the night fell in
reality, the clan came riding—strange,
tall figures in the half-darkness—
straight for Simon’s house.
Ills horse was saddled, too, and he
met them in front of his door. And In
a very few words he made all things
plain to them.
“We’ve found Dave,” he told them
simply. "Most of you already know IL
We’ve decided there isn’t any use of
waiting any more. We’re going to the
Folger bouse tonight.”
The men stood sllenL breathing
hard. Simon spoke very quietly, yet
his voice carried far. In their growing
excitement they did not observe the
reason, that a puzzling, deep calm had
come over the whole wilderness world.
Even in the quietest night there is us
ually a faint background of winds in
the mountain realms —troubled breaths
that whisper In the thickets and rustle
the dead leaves—but tonight the heavy
air had no breath of life.
"Tonight Bruce Folger is going to
pay the price, just as I said.” He
spoke rather boastlngly; perhaps more
to impress his followers than from Im
pulse. Indeed, the passion that be
felt left no room for his usual ar
rogance. “Fire on sight Bill and I
will come from the rear, and we will
be ready to push through the back door
the minute you break through the
front. The rest of you surround the
house on three sides. And remember —
no man is to touch Linda.”
They nodded grimly; then the file
of horsemen started toward the ridge.
Far distant they heard a sound such
ns hud reached them often In summer,
but was unfamiliar In fall. It was
the faint rumble of distant thunder.
• •»••••
Bruce and Linda sat In the front
room of the Folger house, quiet and
watchful and unafraid. It was not
that they did not realize their danger.
They had simply taken all possible
measures of defense; and they were
waiting for what the night would
bring forth.
"I know they’ll come tonight,” Linda
had said. “Tomorrow night there will
be a moon, and though it won’t give
much light. It will hurt their chances
of success. Besides—they’ve found
that their other plot—to kill you from
ambush—lsn’t going to work.”
Bruce nodded and got up to examine
the shutters. He wanted no ray of
light to steal out Into the growing
darkness and make a target. It was
a significant fact that the rifle did not
occupy Its usual place behind the desk.
Bruce kept it In his hands as lie made
the Inspection. Linda had her empty
pistol, knowing that It might—in the
mayhap of circumstance—be of aid In
frightening an assailant. Old Elmira
sat beside the Are, her stiff fingers busy
at a piece of sewing.
“You know—” Bruce said to her,
“that we are expecting an attack to
night ?”
The woman nodded, but didn’t miss
a stitch. No gleam or interest came
into her eyes. Bruce’s gaze fell to
her work basket, and something glit
tered from its depth. Evidently Elmira
had regained her knife.
He went back to his chair beside
Linda, and the two sat listening. They
had never known a more quiet night.
They listened In vain for the little
night sounds that usually come steal
ing, so hushed and tremulous, from the
forest. And they both started, ever so
slightly, when they heard a distant
rumble of thunder.
I “It’s going to storm,” Linda told
him.
I “Yes. A thunderstorm—rnther un-
Usual In the fall, Isn’t It?”
1 “Almost unknown. It’s growing cold,
too.”
1 They waited a breathless minute,
then the thunder spoke again. It was
Immeasurably nearer. It was ns If Jt
had leaped toward them, through the
darkness, with incredible speed In the
minute that Intervened. The last echo
of th® sound was not dead when they
heard It a third time.
| The storm swept toward them and
By
EDISON MARSHALL
Author of
“The Voice of the Pack”
Copyright by Little, Brown, and Co.
increased in fury. On a distant hill
side the strange file that was the Turn
ers halted, then gathered around Si
mon. Already the lightning made vivid,
white gashes in the sky and illumined
—for a breathless instant—the long
sweep of the ridge above them. “We’ll
make good targets In the lightning,**
Old Bill said.
“Ride on.” ordered. “You
kuGW a man can’t find a target in the
hundredth of a second of a lightning
flash. We’re not going to turn back
now.”
They rode on. Far away they heard
the whine and roar of wind, nnd In a
moment it was upon them. The forest
was no longer silent. The peal of the
thunder was almost continuous.
The breaking of the storm seemed
to rock the Folger house on Its founda
tion. Both Linda and Bruce leaped to
their feet; but they felt a little tingle
of awe when they saw that old Elmira
still sat sewing, it was as if the calm
that dwelt in the Sentinel Pine out
side had come down to abide In her.
No force that the world possessed
could ever take It from her.
They heard the rumble and creak
of the trees as the wind smote them,
and the flame of the lamp danced wild
ly, filling the room with flickering
shadows. Bruce straightened, the
lines of his face setting deep. He
glanced once more at the rifle in his
hands.
“Linda,” he said, “put out that fire.
If there’s going to be an attack, we’d
have a better chance if the room was
In darkness. We can shoot through
the door then.”
She obeyed at once, knocking the
burning sticks apart and drenching
them with water. She took off the
glass shade of the lamp, and the little
gusts of wdnd that crept in the cracks
of the wdndows immediately extin
guished the flame. The darkness
dropped down. Then Bruce opened the
door.
The whole wilderness w’orld strug
gled in the grasp of the storm. The
scene was such that no mortal mem
ory could possibly forget. They saw
It In great, vivid glimpses in the inter
mittent flashes of the lightning, and
the world seemed no longer that which
they had come to know. Chaos was
upon it. The tall tops of the trees
wagged back and forth lu frenzied sig
nals; their branches smote and rubbed
together. And just without their door
the Sentinel Pine stood with top lifted
to the fury ot the storm.
A strange awe swept over Bruce.
A moment later he was to behold a
sight that for the moment would make
him completely forget the existence of
the great tree; but for an Instant he
poised at the brink of a profound and
far-reaching discovery. There was a
great lesson for him in that dark, tow
ering figure that the lightning revealed.
Its great limbs moved and spoke; its
top swayed back and forth, yet still It
held Its high place as Sentinel of the
Forest, passionless, patient, talklug
through the murk of clouds to the
stars that burned beyond.
“See,” Linda said. “The Turners
are coming.”
It was true. Bruce dropped his eyes.
Even now the clan had spread out Id
“You Can’t!” She Cried. “You Cow
ard—You Traltorl Kill—Kill Them
While There’s Time.”
a great wing and was bearing down
upon the house. The lightning showed
them In strange, vivid flashes. Bruce
nodded slowly.
“I see,” he answered. Tm ready.”
“Then shoot them, quick—when the
lightning shows them,” she whispered
in his ear. “They’re In range now.”
Her hand seized his arm. “What are
you waiting for?” ,
He turned to her sternly. "Have you
forgotten we only have five shells?”
he asked. “Go back to Elmira.”
Her eyes met his, and she tried to
smile Into them.
‘ Forgive me, Bruce—it’s hard —to be
calm.”
But nt once she understood why he
was waiting. The flashes of lightning
offered no opportunity for an accurate
shoL Bruce meant to conserve his
little supply of shells until the moment
of utmost need. The clan drew nearer.
They were riding slowly, with ready
rifles. And ever the storm Increased
in fury. The thurder wag so close
that It no longer gave the impression
of being merely sound. It was a veri
table exp lost just above their heads.
The first drops of rain fell one by one
on the roof.
Bruce’s eyes sought for Simon’s fig
ure. To Simon he owed the greatest
debt, and to lay Simon low might mean
to dishearten the whole clan. But al
though the attackers were in fair range
now, scarcely two hundred yards
away, he could not identify him. They
drew closer. He raised his gun, wait
ing for a chance to fire. And at that
instant a resistless force hurled him
to the floor.
There was the sense of vast catas
trophe, a great rocking and shudder
ing that was lost in billowing waves of
sound; and then a frantic effort to re
call his wandering faculties. A blind
ing light cut the darkness in twain;
It smote his eyeballs as if with a phys
ical blow’; and summoning all his pow
ers of will he sprang to his feet.
There was only darkness at first;
and he did not understand. But it
was scarcely less duration than the
flash of lightning. A red flame sud
denly leaped into the air, roared and
grew and spread as If scattered by the
wind itself. And Bruce’s breath caught
in a sob of wonder.
The Sentinel Pine, that ancient
friend and counselor that stood not
over one hundred feet from the house,
had been struck by a lightning bolL
Its trunk had been cleft open as if by
a giant’s ax, and the flame was already
springing through its balsam-laden
branches.
CHAPTER XXVII
Bruce stood as if entranced, gazing
with awed face at the flamlhg tree.
There was little danger of the house
itself catching fire. The wind blew
the flame in the opposite direction;
besides, the rains were beating on the
roof. The fire In the great tree itself,
however, was too well started to be
extinguished at once by any kind of
rainfall; but It did burn with less
fierceness.
Dimly he felt the girl’s hand grasp
ing at his arm. Her fingers pressed
until ho felt pain. His eyes lowered
to hers. The sight of that passion
drawn face—recalling in an Instant the
scene beside the camp fire his first
night at Trail’s End—called him to
himself. “Shoot, you fool I" she
stormed at him. “The tree’s lighted up
the whole countryside, and you can’t
miss. Shoot them before they run
away.”
He glanced quickly out. The dan
that had drawm within rilxty yards of
the house at the time the lightning
struck had been thrown into confusion.
Their horses had been knocked down
by the force of the bolt and were flee
ing, riderless, away. The men followed
them, shouting, plainly revealed in the
light from the burning tree. The great
torch beside the house had completely
turned the tables. And Linda spoke
true; they offered the best of targets.
Again the girl’s eyes were lurid slits
between the lids. Her lips were drawn,
nnd her breathing was strange. He
looked at her calmly.
“No, Linda. I can’t —”
“You can’t!” she cried. “You cow
ard —you traitor! Kill—kill—kill them
while there’s time!”
She shw the resolve in his face, and
she snatched the rifle from his hands.
She hurled It to her shoulder and three
times fired blindiy toward the retreat
ing Turners.
At that instant Bruce seemed to
come to life. His thoughts had been
clear ever since the tree had been
struck; his vision win straighter and
more far-reaching than ever in his life
before, but now’ his muscles weakened,
too. He sprang toward the girl and
snatched the rifle from her hand. She
fought for it, and he held her with n
strong arm.
“Wait—wait, Linda,” he said gently.
“You’ve wasted three cartridges now.
There are only two left. And we may
need them some other time.”
He held her from him with his arm;
and It was as If his strength flowed
Into her. Her blazing eyes sought
his, nnd for a long second their wills
battled. And then a deep wonder
seemed to come over her.
“What is it?” she breathed. “What
have you found out?’’
She spoke in a strange and distant
voice. Slowly the Are died in her eyes,
the drawn features relaxed, her hands
fell at her side. He drew’ her away
from the lighted doorway, out of the
range of any of the Turners that
should turn to answer the rifle fire.
The wind roared over the house and
swept by In clamoring fury, the elec
trie storm dimmed and lessened as It
journeyed on.
These two knew that if death spared
them in all the long passage of their
years, they could never forget that mo
ment. The girl watched him breath
lessly, oblivious to all things else. He
seemed wholly unaware of her now.
There was something aloof, impassive.
Infinitely calm about him, nnd a great,
far-reaching understanding was In his
eyes. Her own eyes suddenly filled
with tears.
“Linda, there’s something come to
me—ind I don’t know that I can make
you understand. I can only call It
strength—a new strength and a great
er strength than I ever had before.
It’s something that the pine—that
great tree that we Just saw split open
—has been trying to tell me for a long
time. Oh, can’t you see, Linda? There
it stood, hundreds of years—so great,
so tall, so wise—in a moment broken
like a reed. It takes away my arro
gance, Linda. It makes me see myself
as I really am. And that means—
Power.”
His eyes blazed, and he caught her
hands in his.
“It was a symbol, Linda, not only
of the wilderness, but of powers higher
and greater than the wilderness.
Powers that can look down, and not
be swept away by passion, and not
try to tear to pieces those who in their
folly harm them. There’s no room for
such things as vengeance in this new
strength. There’s no room for mur
der, and malice, and hatred, and blood
shed.”
Linda understood. She knew that this
new-found strength did not mean re
nunciation of her cause. It did not mean
that he w’ould give over his attempt
to reinstate her as the owner of her
father’s estates. It only meant that the
Impulse of personal vengeance was
dead within him. He knew now—the
same as ever—that the duty of the
men that dwell upon the earth Is to do
their allotted tasks, and without hatred
and without passion to overcome the
difficulties that stand In the way. She
realized that if one of the Turners
should leap through the door and ut-
//*■*•**
And the Triumph on Bruce’s Face
Changed to a Singular Look of Won
der.
tack her, Bruce would kill him without
mercy or regret. She knew that he
would make every effort to bring the
offenders to the law. But the ability
to shoot a fleeing enemy In the back,
because of wrongs done long ago, was
past
Bruce’s vision had come to him. He
knew that If vengeance had been the
creed of the powers that ruled the
world, the sphere would have been de
stroyed with fire long since. To stand
firm and straight and unflinching; not
to judge, not to condemn, not to re
sent ; this was true strength.
“I know,” the girl said, her thoughts
wandering afar. “Perhaps the name
for It all Is —tolerance.”
“Perhaps,” he nodded. “And pos
sibly It Is only—worship!”
• ••••••
The Turners had gone. The dim
ming lightning revealed the entire at
tacking party half a mile distant and
out of rifle range on the ridge; and
Bruce and Linda stole together out
Into the storm.
The green foliage of the tree had
already burned away, but some of the
upper branches still glowed against
the dark sky. A fallen branch smol
dered on the ground, hissing In the
rain, and it lighted their way.
Awed and mystified, Bruce halted
before the ruin of the great tree. He
had almost forgotten the stress of the
moment just passed. It. did not even
occur to him that some of his enemies,
unseen before, might still be lurking
in the shadow, watching for a chance
to harm. They stood a moment in
silence. Then Bruce uttered one little
gasp and stretched his arm Into the
hollow that the cleft in the trunk had
revealed.
The light from a burning branch be
hind him had shown him u small, dark
object that had evidently been Inserted
In the hollow tree trunk through some
little aperture that had either since
been closed up or they had never ob
served. It was a leathern wallet, and
Bruce opened It under Linda's startled
gaze. He drew out a single white
paper.
He held it in the light, and his
glance swept down Its lines of faded
Ink. Then he looked up with brighten
ing eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
"The secret agreement between your
father and mine,” he told her simply.
“And we’ve won.”
He watched her eyes brighten. It
seemed to him that nothing life had
ever offered had given hhn the same
pleasure. It was a moment of triumph
But before half of Its long seconds
were gone, it became a moment of
despair.
A rifle spoke from the coverts be
yond—one sharp, angry note that rose
distinct and penetrating above the
noise of the distant thunder. A little
tongue of fire darted, like a snake’s
head. In the darkness. And the tri
umph on Bruce’s face changed to a
singular look of wonder.
CHAPTER XXVIII
To Simon, the night had seemingly
ended in triumph, after all. It had
looked dark for a while. The bolt of
lightning, setting fire to the pine, had
deranged all of his plans. Ills men
had been thrown from their horses,
the blazing pine tree had left them
exposed to fire from the house, and
they had not yet caught their mounts
and rallied. Young Bill and himself,
however, had tied their horses before
the lightning had struck and had lin
gered in the thickets in front of the
house for just such a chance as had
been given them.
lie had not understood why Bruce
had not opened fire on the fleeing
Turners. He wondered if his enemy
were out of ammunition. The tragedy
of the Sentinel Pine nad had no mean
ing for him ; and he had held his rifle
cocked and ready for the instant that
Bruce had shown himself.
Young Bill had heard his little ex
ultant gasp when Linda and Bruce had
come out Into the firelight. Plainly
they had kept track of all the attack
ing party that had been visible, and
supposed that all their enemies had
gone. He felt the movement of Si
mon’s strong arms as he raised the
rifle. Those arms were never steadier.
In the darkness the younger man
could not see his face, but his own
fancy pictured It with entire clearness.
The eyes were narrowed and red, the
lines cut deep about the bloodhound
lips, and mercy was as far from him
as from the Killer who hunted on the
distant ridge.
But Simon didn’t fire at once. The
two were coming steadily toward him,
and the nearer they were the better
his chance of success in the unsteady
light. He sat as breathless, as wholly
free from telltale motion as a puma
who waits In ambush for an approach
ing deer. He meant to take careful
aim. It was his big chance, r he
intended to make the most of it.
The two had halted beside the
ruined pine, but for a moment Simon
held his fire. They stood rather close
together; he wanted to wait until
Bruce offered a clear target. And at
that Instant Bruce had drawn the
leather wallet from the tree.
Curiosity alone stayed Simon’s finger
as Bruce had opened it. He saw’ the
gleam of the white paper in the dim
light; and then he understood.
Simon was a man of rigid, unwaver
ing self-control; and his usual way
was to look a long time between the
sights before he fired. Yet the sight
of that document —the missing Folger-
Ross agreement on which had hung
victory or defeat —sent a violent im
pulse through all his nervous system.
For the first time in his memory his
reflexes got away from him.
It had meant too much; and his fin
ger pressed back involuntarily against
rhe trigger. He had not taken his us
ual deliberate aim, although he had
seen Bruce’s figure clearly between
the sights the instant before he fired.
Simon was a rifleman, bred in the
bone, and he had no reason to think
that the hasty aim meant a complete
miss. He did realize, however, the
difficulties of night shooting—a real
ization that all men who have lingered
after dusk In the duck blind experi
ence sooner or later —and he looked
up over his sights to see the result of
his shot. His self-control had com
pletely returned to him; and he was
perfectly cold about the whole matter.
From the first second he knew he
had not completely missed. He raised
his rifle to shoot again.
But Bruce’s body was no longer re
vealed. Linda stood in the way. It
looked as if she had deliberately
thrown her own body as a shield be
tween.
Simon spoke then —a single, terrible
oath of hatred and Jealousy. But in
a second more he saw his triumph.
Bruce swayed, reeled and fell in Lin
da’s arms, and he saw her half-drag
him Into the house.
He stood shivering, but not from
the cold that the storm had brought.
“Come on,” he ordered Young Bill.
“I taink we’ve downed him for good,
but we ve got to get that paper.”
• • • * • • •
But Simon did not see all things
clearly. He had little real knowledge
of the little drama that had followed
his shot from ambush.
Human nature Is full of odd quirks
and twists, and among other things,
symptoms are misleading. There Is
an accepted way for men to act when
they are struck with a rifle bullet.
They are expected to reel, to throw
their arms wide, and usually to cry
out. The only trouble with these ac
tions, as men who have been In bat
tlefields know very well, Is that they
do not usually happen in real life.
Bruce, with Linda’s eyes upon him,
took one rather long, troubled breath.
And he did look somewhat puzzled.
Then he looked down at his shoulder.
‘‘l’m hit, Linda.” he said in a quiet
way. “I think Just a scratch."
The tremendous shock of any kind
of wound from a thirty-forty caliber
bullet had not seemingly affected him
outwardly at all. Some hours were
to pass before he completely under
stood. The truth was that the shock
of that rifle bullet, ordinarily striking
a blow* of a half-ton. had cost him for
ihe moment an ability to make any
logical Interpretation of events. The
girl moved swiftly, yet without giving
an impression of leaping, and stood
very close and in front of him. In
one lightning movement she had made
of her own body a shield for his. In
case the assassin in the covert should
shoot again.
Her arms went about and seized
his shoulders. “Stagger,” she whis
pered quickly. “Pretend to fall. It’s
the one chance to save you.”
He dispelled the mists In his own
brain and obeyed her. He swayed, and
her arms went about him. Then he
fell forward.
Her strong arms encircled bls waist
and with ail her magnificent young
strength she dragged him to the door.
It was noticeable, however—to all
PAGE THREE
eyes except Bruce s—that she kept
her own body as much as she could
between him and the ambush. In an
Instant they were tn the darkened
room. Bruce stood up, once more
wholly master of llmself.
“You’re not hurt bad?” she asked
quickly.
“No. Just a deep scratch In the
arm muscle near the shoulder. Bullet
just must have grazed me. But It’s
bleeding pretty bad.”
“Then there’s no time to be lost.”
Her hands in her eagerness went
again to ids shoulder. “Don’t you
see—he’ll be here in a minute. We’ll
steal out the back door and try to
ride down to the courts before they
can overtake us—”
In one instant lie had grasped the
Idea; and he laughed softly in the
gloom. “1 know. I’ll snatch two
blankets and the food. You get the
horse."
She sprang out the kitchen door
and he hurried Into the bedrooms.
He snatched two of the warmest
blankets from the beds and hurled
them over his shoulder. He hooked
the camp ax on his belt, then hastened
Into the little kitchen. He took up
the little sack containing a few pounds
of Jerked venison, spilled out a few
pieces for Elmira, and carried it—
with a few* pounds of flour—out to
meet Linda. The horse still stood
saddled, and with deft hands they
tied on their supplier and fastened
the blankets In a long roll in front of
the saddle.
“Get on,” she whis»%'.red. “I’ll get
up behind you.”
She spoke in the *tter darkness;
he felt her breath against his cheek.
Then tlie lightning came dimly and
showed him her face.
"No, Linda,” he replied quietly.
"You are going alone —”
She cut him off with a despairing
cry. “Oh, please, Bruce—l won’t!
I’ll stay here, then—"
“Don’t you see?” he demanded.
“You can make it out without me.
I’m wounded and bleeding, and can’t
tell how* long I can keep up. We’ve
only got one horse, and without me
to weigh him down you can get down
to the courts —”
“And leave you here to be mur
dered? Oh, don’t waste the precious
seconds any more. I won’t go with
out you. I mean it. If you stay here,
I do, too. Believe me if you ever be
lieved anything.”
Once more the lightning revealed
her face, and on it the deterrnlnati on
of a zealot. He knew’ that she spoke
the truth. He climbed with some diffi
culty into the saddle. A moment
more tind she swung up behind him.
The entire operation had taken an
astonishingly short period of time.
Bruce had worked like mad, wholly
disregarding his Injured arm. Just
beyond, Simon with ready rifle was
creeping toward the house.
“Which way?” Bruce asked.
“The out-trail —around the moun
tain,” she whispered. “Simon will
overtake us on the other —he’s got a
magnificent horse. On the mountain
trail we’ll have a better chance to
keep out of his sight.”
She spoke hurriedly, yet conveyed
her message with entire clearness.
They knew w’hat tliey had to face,
these two. Simon and whoever of tlie
clan was with him would lose no time
in springing in pursuit. They each
had a strong horse, they knew tlie
trails, they carried long-range rifles
and would open fire at tlie first glimpse
of the fugitives. Bruce was wounded;
slight as the injury was, it would seri
ously handicap them in sucli a test as
tliis. Their one chance was to keep
to the remote trails, to lurk unseen in
the thickets, and try to break through
to safety. And they knew’ that only by
the doubtful mercy of the forest gods
could they ever succeed.
Linda took tlie reins and pulled out
of the trail, then encircled a heavy
wall of brush. She did not wish to
take the risk of Simon seeing their
forms in the dimming lightning and
opening fire so soon. Then she turned
back into the trail and headed into
the storm.
• ♦ 9 • * • •
Simon had clear enough memory of
the rifle fire that Linda had opened
upon tlie clan to wish to approach
the house with care. It would be
wholly typical of the girl to lay her
lover on his bed, then go back to the
window’ to wait for a sight of his
assassin. She could look straight
along a rifle barrel I A few moments
were lost ns Young Bill and himself
encircled the thickets, keeping out of
the gleam of the smoldering tree. Its
light was almost gone; It hissed and
glowed in the wet snow.
They crept up from the shadow,
and holding their rifles ready, opened
the door. They were somewhat sur
prised to find it unlocked. The truth
was it had been left thus by design;
Linda did not wish them to encircle
the house to the rear door and dis
cover Bruce and herself in the act of
departure. The room was in dark
ness, and the two intruders rather
expected to And Bruce’s body on the
threshold.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Matter Full of Holes.
It was first shown by Thomson that
matter is neither continuous nor homo
geneous. He showed by an experiment
that hydrogen can be passed into a
vacuum bulb through an incandescent
platinum window. In a similar way
sodium passes through glass, and this
is a useful bit of knowledge in the
manufacture of vacuum tubes, because
sodium can be passed into the tube
to absorb the residual oxygen. Bel
latl, the Italian physicist, has shown
that hydrogen can pass through cold
Iron. Mater may therefore be gen
erally regarded as full of holes.
Think twdee before you speak and
thrice before you write. z