Harold Titus
w.m.u
se. v i c«
SYNOPSIS
Ben Elliott — from “Yonder” —
domes into the lumbering town of
Tlncup, bringing an old man, Don
Stuart, who had been eager to
reach Tlncup. Nicholas Brandon,
the town's leading citizen, resents
Stuart's presence, trying to force
him to leave, and Elliott, resenting
the act, knocks him down. Judge
Able Armitage hires Ben to run the
one lumber camp, the Hoot Owl,
that Brandon has not been able to
grab. This belongs to Dawn Mc
Manus, whose father has disap
peared with a murder charge hang
ing over his head. Brandon sends
his bully. Duval, to beat up Ben,
and Ben throws him out of camp.
Old Don Stuart dies, leaving a let
ter for Elliott, "to be used when the
going becomes too tough." Ben re
fuses to read it at this time, be
lieving he can win the fight by his
own efforts. Fire in the mill, sub
dued, is found to have been incen
diary. The Hoot Owl makes a con
tract for timber, that will provide
money to tide it over. But there is
a definite time limit. Ben discovers
Dawn McManus is not a child, as
he had supposed, but a beautiful
young woman. The railroad bridge
over which Ben’s lumber must pass,
Is blown up. By superhuman efforts
Ben builds a new bridge and him
self drives a train over the rickety
structure, making the delivery with
only a few minutes to spare. Bran
don compels a woman (known as
“Lydia") who is in his power, to
accuse Elliott of misconduct with a
girl. She does so at a dance which
Elliott and Dawn McManus attend.
Da.wn, apparently believing Ben
guilty, leaves the dance without
him. While walking in the woods,
Elliott is fired on, and drops, seem
ingly dead, but his fall Is a ruse to
make his enemy believe his attempt
has been successful. A little sleuth
ing proves the would-be killer to
be Red Bart Delaney, notorious
Canadian desperado.
CHAPTER XI—Continued
—13—
“Benny, your way of doing things
fcares me! Why, this can’t go on.
It mustn’t I It's your own affair,
for sure, when he tried to shoot you
down, but maybe, perhaps, possibly,
I’m going to beg you to be careful.
So long as Delaney’s In the country
you’ve got to keep low. Get back
to camp; stay there; let us pick
some man I can trust to follow
Bart and Brandon night and day
so you’ll not be caught!”
“No." Ben shook his head reso
lutely. "I’ll go on about my busi
ness as I should. I’ve never run yet
and don’t like to start any fast
footwork now.”
“But it’s your life that’s at stake,
Ben! Don’t be silly. That’s what
recklessness is: downright silly!
That’s not like you. Why, not tak
ing precautions in this thing is like
monkeying with a high tension
wire.”
“No good. Able. I couldn’t hold
up my head if I hid out after the
play I’ve made.”
So Able was forced to give up
after a time and shuffled up the
street, drawing off his mitten
again and rubbing his face briskly
with his palm.
He had only reached his office
and was unlocking the door when
Aunt Em, walking grimly as if with
a definite purpose, approached.
“Good morning—” he began.
“Forget the palaver. Able Arm
ttage!” the woman said sharply.
“You’re in trouble. So are we all,
maybe. That’s why I came to see
you. Is it true what they say that
this Red Bart Delaney has showed
up here in Tincup?’’
“As true as disease or death or
anything else unpleasant.”
“That’s what I’d heard! Do I
have to guess why he’s come?”
Able untied his scarf and shook
his head sadly.
“No, Em. Your first guess will
he right And he took a shot at
Benny yesterday!"
“And missed, I’d Judge from the
look of him Just now. But if he’s
still here there’ll he a next time;
and he won’t miss then. Did you
do your duty and send the boy to
some safe place?"
Able sighed and told her of his
talk with Ben.
“So you couldn’t make him listen
to reason!" she muttered. “Well, if
you can’t, I can’t. And, us fall
ing, there’s only one other who
would have a ghost of a show."
“Dawn?”
She nodded. "Dawn could. But
she won’t. . . . She won't go to
him no. She wouldn’t even listen
to me talk about him, she’s in such
a state. She’s up to her ears In
love with Ben Elliott or I’ve got
three legs! And then to have that
scandalous woman do what she did
and upset It all!”
She sat down heavily in a chair
and drew a great breath.
“I don’t have to ask you or any
other man about Ben Elliott, Able!
I know the clean and decent folks
when I see ’em. I’d bet my repu
tation as a Christian woman on that
hay! That piece of play acting
M «be dance was some of Nick
Brandon’s work, you can bet your
last red cent! Why, Able, that
man's worse than ever I thought:
My, oh my!
“Well, what I’m gettin' at is this:
The boy's in danger of bein’ mur
dered every minute of day and
night unless he takes your advice.
There’s no one left to try to talk
him into being careful but Dawn.
And how am I going to get her to
see her duty when she goes into
a cryin’ lit every time his name's
mentioned : Yes, sir. Every time
she hears his name."
“She doesn't yet see that the af
fair was a put-up job, then?”
"See? She can t see anything.
Able Aruiltage! Put yourself In her
place. Suppose you were a young
girl who’s had the things to bear
that she has all her life; and sup
pose you fell in love for the first
time; and suppose that young man
was accused of such nastiness right
in public with everybody listening
and gawping? Would you stop to
figure that the reason he seemed
guilty was natural? That the thing
was so far fetched from the truth
and such a shock that lie was all
kerfiummoxed? I should say you
wouldn’t! You'd do just what she’s
doin’; make yourself all sick with
chills and fever by cryln’."
She twitched at the skirts of her
cloak irritably and glared at the
old justice as though he were a
sworn enemy instead of a friend.
“What ails her Is shock. She
ain't got over the shock yet and
every time his name or anything
else about him is mentioned it sets
her off again. She’ll get over it,
give her time. But then she’ll be
so humiliated to think she didn't
use her reason that she won’t be
herself for another spell. And she
should be herself now! There ain’t
any time to lose. She should patct
up her misunderstanding with him
right today—right this hour—and
use her influence to persuade him
to keep low. But how It’s to be
done I’d like to know. For Lord’s
sake, Able, ain’t you got a single
suggestion?"
The justice had been stuffing
light wood into his stove during
this. Now he touched a match to
the tinder, opened the drafts and
stood with his hands behind him,
rusty overcoat unbuttoned and
drooping, deep in thought.
“It’s difficult to get anyone in her
state to use reason. Maybe the
shock of knowing that Ben’s life Is
In danger would be a counter irri
tant to this other shock. Maybe
not. If the affair of last week
could be cleared up, if Dawn could
be shown that this Lydia woman
was only carrying out a plan . . .
But I wonder . . ."
Aunt Em stiffened in her chair.
She looked hard at Able and her
eyes narrowed a trifle.
“You see,” he resumed, “if the
girl-”
“Hold on. Able Armitage!” she
cut in, holding up a hand in warn
ing. “Hold on, now! I’ve got to
think. ... Got to think, I tell
you! And I can’t think while you
carry on your gabble! You leave
me alone, now. . . . Keep your
tongue still. . . . They say a
woman’s tongue is hung in the mid
dle and loose at both ends . . ,
But . . . Yum . . .” As she
pressed one naud over her eyes her
words dwindled -;o nintelligible
mumblings.
“I’ve got it!” she cried excitedlv
after a moment ‘I’ve ?ot it, now 1
You stay right here. Able! You
stay until I come back. If It works,
it works. ... If it don’t. It’ll be
time to talk some more!”
She moved resolutely to the door,
left the office and strode down the
street. On past the bank, the post
office, the pool room. ... On be
yond all the stores, on down to
the depot.
There, on the platform she stood
a long Interval staring across the
tracks to that short row of houses
on Section Thirty-Seven. The sta
tion agent came out of the office
and looked at Em in surprise.
“Hello!” he cried. “What brings
you down here before—’’
“Homer,” she cut in grimly, “in
which one of them nasty places
does this Lydia woman live?"
“Why-why . . Why, how should
I know?” tie evaded as a red flush
crept up from his collar. “In the
one at this end. I think. I’m not
sure, of course. . . I think she
does, though. . . . She , .
But he no longer had a listener.
Resolutely, slowly with something
like defiant majesty, the woman
crossed the tracks, with never an
other word to her informant and
never a look to right or left. Her
head was up. her mouth set, and
her long nose wrinkled as if at a
disgusting odor. A woman up by
the stores shaded her eyes and
peered at the moving figure and
r
stared and stopped. Annt Era Oo
burn, headed for Thirty-Seven!
Why, it couldn't be!
But Aunt Em mounted the steps.
She rapped at length and vigorous
ly on the scarred panel of the door.
She went within, leaving a dozen
long-distance watchers to wonder.
It was long before she emerged
and then . , . Ah, then Tlncup had
a sight to see, a subject for spec
ulation! For by Aunt Em's side
moved the woman Lydia, collar of
her fur coat high about her face
as if to hide the traces of tears
which hastily applied powder could
not eradicate.
Tears from those hard eyes?
Nothing less! For women know
women and before Aunt Em had
talked to this outcast live minutes
she had discovered the weakness
in her shame, the clean spot left in
her heart. And how Emma Coburn
could talk! She talked that clean
spot to a growing, glowing, glori
ous thing. She talked Lydia out of
her house, across the tracss;
talked tier into that slow, un
ashamed, almost flagrant march up
the main street; talked her out of
all but one look of misgiving at
the windows of Nicholas Brandon’s
offices. . . . And around the corner
and in beneath the hemlocks which
whispered above the snug white
house. They entered, where Dawn
McManus had hidden since the
woman's words sent her flying from
the dance hall to the sanctuary of
Aunt Em's understanding arms.
All the way out to camp Dawn
snuggled close again Able in his
worn old buffalo coat. Now and
ngain she trembled a bit; once she
cried softly a few minutes. But
much of the time she talked.
“To think it was the man I used
to call Uncle who did that thing!”
she cried. “Why haven't you told
me. Able? Why haven’t you
warned me?”
“What he’s done, what he’s been,
what he is, were no things for you,
Dawn, girl. I’ve Just tried ... to
stand between you and many un
pleasant things. You’ve had your
share as it was.”
“I could have stood this one
"Homer, in Which One of Them
Nasty Places Does This Lydia
Woman Live?"
more,” she replied, stoutly enough.
“It hasn’t been so bad these last
few years, knowing that everybody
thinks my father a murderer. I’d
Just gotten myself above that and
now , . . and now . .
“What now?” Able asked gently.
She looked at him through tears.
“When a man loves a girl, that
girl can’t let herself love him, can
she, when she’s under a clond her
self? She can’t bring a man’s chil
dren into the world and have them
whispered about as the grandchil
dren of a murderer?”
"Dawn! Dawn, girl, don’t think
that! Why, it’s—”
“But it’s so, Able! I don’t wa
want to talk about It. All I can
do for Ben now is to let him know
how weak I was to doubt him and
to use any Influence I may have to
protect him from this terrible dan
ger. I will do that; I must do thnt
because It Is duty. But it must
stop there. It can’t go on, you see.
Not while I have nothing more than
Just my faith in my father’s good
name.”
Able, the wise man that he was,
did not force the argument. He
brought his team to a halt before
the Hoot Owl oflice, gave the reins
to Dawn and stepped out.
Martin, the bookkeeper, was the
only occupant of the place.
"Where’s Ben?” he asked.
The bearded man looked over his
shoulder, recognized Able and then
his gaze went past the man to the
waiting cutter where Dawn sat.
"lie’s ...” ft seemed as though
Martin’s voice failed after thnt
word. He half started from his
chair and the pen, dropped from
flexed fingers, rolled across the
ledger sheet. lie made a faint
sound and In Ills eyes appeared an
expression that startled Able.
"What’s wrong, Martin?” he
asked in alarm, stepping quickly
into the room. “Sick?”
"No ... all right now,” the oth
er said, as if with great effort.
"Ben? In the mill, I think.”
He picked up his pen, then, and
bent over his work.
Able crossed the mill-yard looking
for Ben and as he went Martin rose
cautiously from his chair, moved
quietly to be In line with the win
dow and stared for a long Interval
at the girl huddled in the robes.
f *
His hands worked and his breath
was uneven.
"Dawn Is here to see you," Able
said simply ns he encountered
Ben. "She had me bring her out
so she could talk to you. She’s
waiting over by the office."
Elliott stood hesitant for an In
stant; then turned and walked
swiftly along the pond. He gave
no sign of recognition as he ap
proached the cutter; made no salu
tation as he came nenr the girl who
sat watching him so steadily. He
only spoke her name, when he was
at her side. She gave him a small,
gloved hand and smiled wanly.
"I have cotne to say many things,
Ben," she began in a strange,
strained voice. "To beg forgive
ness, to beg other things . . . per
haps to explain a little.
"A week ago tonight,"—strug
gling, now, to hold her voice steady
—“I ran out of the dance hall and
on home, thinking that that woman
was honest. The time since then,
until noon today, lias been a night
mare.
“Lydia came to my house at noon.
She explained everything. Aunt Km
brought her. Lydia told me every
thing. ... It was Mr. Brandon who
thought out the plan and forced her
to do It under threats of some sort.
She didn't tell ns what the threats
were hut left our house for the
train and Is gone from Ttncup for
ever. . . . And I’ve come to tell you
how miserable I feel to think that 1
was weak enough to act ns Mr.
Brandon seemed to he sure I would
act. . .
Relief was singing through El
liott’s relief and a great Joy, lifting
him above rage for Brandon.
“Oh, I’m glad I" he said earnest
ly. "I’ve . . . Why, it completely
knocked me olT my pins! Dawn, It’s
been terrible for you but . . . but
this makes me so happy!”
“I'iu happy because you are hnp
py,” she said, but something In her
tone and expression dampened his
enthusiasm, checked his soaring
spirits. She was so calm, so
steady, so restrained; her mood
was not ut all that of one who
comes joyously to wipe out heart
breaking misunderstanding. "And
I’ll never forgive myself for . . .
for falling into the trap that was
set for me, Ben!’’
“Why shouldn't you? Any girl
would have felt as you did. . . .
But It's explained, now. Let’s for
get it and begin where we left off
and find peace and—”
The sharp shake of her head and
the quick withdrawal of her hand
cut him off.
“There are sterner things to
think of, tirst; quite different
things, Ben. That is why 1 came
out here, to talk to you about Bart
Delaney. Able has told me what
happened yesterday. You don’t
tnke it seriously enough. Keep
safe until you're certain that the
danger is past.”
"Hide and skulk while other men
protect me? A man can't do that.
Dawn! I’ll be on my guard, of
course. But I can’t run away from
anybody who is trying to strike
from behind. What would these
boys here on the job think of me
If I did? If I do the safe thing and
think of my own skin, some of our
workers will tumble to the fact
that I’ve no more courage than
most of them, less than plenty. I
can’t let them down, you see, and
still keep my standing In their eyes.”
‘‘It Isn’t worth It, Ben 1 It’s my
Job, my property you’re taking
these risks for. It Isn’t fair to
me!”
“I can argue that. I’m not anx
ious to be put out of the picture
yet a while. I’ll keep my eyes open.
I’ve already made the move that
should stop Delaney from trying
me again. Able and the others have
gotten you ail in a flutter, Dawn.
Don’t worrry. I’m coming to Tin
cup tonight and I’m going to ap
pear to be thinking about nothing
but the errands I have to do. Every
second, I'll be on the watch for a
crooked move from anybody. I
promise you that. And when I’ve
shown myself to people I'll come
to see you and talk you into the
same way of looking at this situa
tion.”
She shook tier head.
"I’m asking two things of you.
The first Is to stay here; the other
Is not to come to see me. . . .
Please!”
She put a hand on his with that
plea, and he frowned.
“I can understand your being a
little timid about having me around
town but I can convince you that
I’m right It's Itrnndon or me, now,
you see. If I run, he wins. . . .
But this other: Dawn, don't you
want me to see you?’’
The girl’s Ups worked.
“No." slip said, ever so faintly.
“No. . . . Oh, please don’t argue
with me, Ben! Please don’t come
to see me. You don’t understand.
You may never understand. . . .
But I’m begging you from the bot
tom of my heart not to come and
see me again I"
“No, I don’t understand. It’»
. . . why, Its . . .** He laughed
aloud at his own bewilderment and
Able, in the near distance, mistook
thnt laugh born of distress for one
of relief and cam* toward them.
“Well, have you two got matters
cleared up?" he asked.
Dawn nodded silently.
“Some things are cleared up.”
Elliott sold. "But there are oth
ers. . . . Dawn, won’t you explain?"
The girl turned her face to Able.
“I’m ready to go home now," she
said weakly.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
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