"r ARTHUR STRINGER *
THE STORY SO FAR: Alan Slade hat
agreed to fly a "sclesttot” named Frayn*
to the Aaawotto river to look lor the
breeding gromd of the trumpeter twan.
It to bleak rountry, and Alan autperti
Frayne ol having tomethlng up hit
aleeve, but Norland Alrwaya needs the
Job. Slade and his partner. Tracer, have
been having trouble competing with the
larger companies, and Frayne has paid
enough to enable Truger to buy the plane
they need. When he thought Norland
was going to have to quit, Slade applied
lor overseas service with the army air
corps. His application was rejected, but
his disappointment has been lessened
considerably by the brighter outlook for
the business and by the tact that Lynn
Morlock, the local doctor's daughter,
has decided not to go to England with
her Red Cross unit. Now he has gone
with Lynn while she gives first aid
treatment to an outcast flyer named Slim
Tumstead, who has been hurt In a fight.
They learn that Tumstead knows about
Frayne and about the new Lockheed.
It to a few minutes later, and they are
talking about their plans for the future.
Lynn feels that she must think first of
her father’s happiness.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER IV
“But you mustn’t forget,” Slade
contended, “that you have your own
life to live.”
“That’s what I’m trying to re
member," was Lynn’s vibrant
voiced reply.
They came to a stop in front of
the hospital steps.
“Some day,” he said with a wave
ef recklessness, “I’ll make you see
It my way.”
If it sounded like a threat it
brought no touch of concern to the
hazel eyes searching his face. A
smile even hovered about her lip
ends.
“You’ve got a harder job than
that,” she retorted, “if you’re flying
in to the Anawotto tomorrow.” Then
the smile disappeared. “By the
way, I saw that ornithologist who's
flying in with you. He was asking
me what I knew about the country
north of the Kasakana.”
“Is he as screwy as he sounds?”
asked Slade.
“He’s far from screwy,” was
Lynn’s slightly retarded answer.
“He struck me as being cold and
hard and shrewd. And I can’t fig
ure out what he’s after. It rather
makes me wish someone else was
piloting him into that wilderness.”
Slade was able to laugh, as they
shook hands.
“Don’t lose sleep over that,” he
proclaimed. Then he laughed again.
“I’ve flown some queer nuts into
the North.”
Slade, hurrying down to the air
harbor, could see his moored plane
being warped in to the landing dock.
On the dock itself he could make
out Cassidy, of the Norland staff,
and two strange figures, one more
massive than the other. But what
held his eye was the amount of
duffel piled along the dock’s edge.
As Cruger had told him, they were
giving him a load all right Even
Cassidy’s broad face broke into a
smile as he handed him the scales
slip. For Slade's glance, at the mo
ment, was directed toward the two
men already interested in getting
their equipment aboard. He resent
ed the offhand way in which the big
ger of the two strangers was clam
bering about his ship. The worn
wolfskin coat that covered the wide
shoulders of this stranger made him
look shabby and subordinate.
When the pilot turned to his sec
ond passenger he experienced a
sense of disappointment touched
with shame. For there seemed noth
ing sinister about the straitened and
scholarly figure confronting him.
That figure even failed to look fool
ish. Slade saw a man considerably
less aged than he had expected, a
mr.n with sloping and narrow shoul
ders and an abstracted gaze that
looked out on the world from behind
bifocal glasses.
Slade stepped closer.
*• ■“Quite a load you’re giving me,"
he ventured as the man in the bi
focal glasses continued to divide his
attention between the duffel pile and
a checklist in his hand.
The abstracted eyes lifted and re
garded him for a moment of silence.
It was the glasses more than any
thing else, Slade decided, that gave
the stranger his look of delibera
tion.
“Why does that interest you?" the
stranger inquired. His tone was mild
and without hostility. But the voice,
low-toned and remote, seemed
marked by an exotic precision of
intonation. It persuaded Slade that
he was neither an Englishman nor
an American.
“This happens to be my ship,” I
the pilot explained as he rested a
fraternal hand on the sun-faded
fuselage.
“Ah, then we shall see much of
each other,” said the other. His
smile was friendly but abstracted.
4T am Doctor Frayne. And this is
my camp-mate, my good man Fri
day, Caspar Karnell.”
No responsive word came from
the big-bodied man in the wolfskin
coat. He merely stood above the
cabin hatch, his eyes expression
less.
“Caspar is not—shall I say?—vol
uble,” observed the Doctor. A mild
and forebearing smile wrinkled the
scholarly face behind the glasses.
“And that, I might also explain, is
why we travel together.”
Slade, after an inspection of the
bland emptiness of Karnell’s face,
nodded his understanding.
“Quite an arsenal you’re taking in,” he observed.
“They tell me I’m to take you In
to the Anawotto,” prompted the
bush pilot.
“That is my desire,” answered
Dr. Frayne. “It may so happen
that we shall winter up north.”
“Down north,” Slade corrected.
“We speak of it here as down north.”
The man with the abstracted eyes
ventured a shrug.
“With time,” he said, "I shall be
come better acquainted with your
country.” His movement, as he
swung a bag of what had every as
pect of mining tools up to his com
panion, was almost a dismissive
one.
“Prospecting?” questioned Slade.
“I am not interested in prospect
ing,” was the deliberated answer.
“I am a naturalist.”
As though in confirmation of that
statement he lifted a case of mount
ed bird bodies up to his waiting
companion. Then again the forced
smile showed itself.
“It may impress you as a foolish
profession. But for many years now
I have given my time to the study of
bird life.”
Slade glanced down at the Mann
licher-Schoenauer, the two bolstered
Lugers, the pair of shotguns of dif
ferent gauges and weight that rest
ed between a scattering of cartridge
cases.
“Quite an arsenal you’re tak
ing in,” he observed.
For just a moment the opaque
eyes regarded him.
“I am not unfamiliar with the
North,” Frayne announced with a
patience that seemed coerced. “It
is well, in case of the unexpected,
to be able to live off die land.”
“Of course,” agreed Slade as he
watched the firearms being stowed
aboard. They were followed by a
tent bale and sleeping bags, by con
densed foods with foreign labels, by
camp equipment and a box of signal
flares and cased instruments and
even two carrier pigeons in a hood
ed cage.
“You’ve filling me pretty full,” ob
served Slade.
Frayne’s face remained expres
sionless.
Any inconvenience that X may
cause," he said, “I profoundly re
gret. I had hoped, on arriving
here, to purchase a plane. But they
are not to be bought, I find.”
“There’s use for ’em just now,"
observed the #pilot. "We’re in the
war, you know.”
The eyes behind the bifocals be
came less opaque.
“But here at least,” observed the
man of science, “I shall not see it
come between me and my re
search.”
“The office tells me you’re after
trumpeter swans,” said Slade.
‘T am seeking the nesting ground
of that noble bird," acknowledged
the ornithologist. “They are ex
tremely shy and hard to find in the
brooding season. That is why I go
into an empty country like the Ana
wotto.”
Slade, not unconscious of the ped
agogic note, felt the need of prov
ing that his interests extended be
yond gas engines.
“Ever try for them around the
Red Rock Lakes in Yellowstone?”
he asked. “They started a refuge
for trumpeters there not so far
back.”
“A refuge which will be a failure,”
was the prompt response. “Your
trumpeter is a child of the wilds.
He cannot be adjusted to confine
ment.”
His new friend, Slade admitted,
seemed to know his bird life all
right.
His eye-squint deepened as he no
ticed two heavier cases being lifted
aboard. “By the way, are you tak
ing radio or wireless in with you?”
“Why should I do that?” Frayne
questioned. “It is with the lady
swan I wish to converse.”
“But how'll you come out?” asked
Slade. “How’ll we know where to
pick you up?”
Frayne’s gaze again became dif
fused.
“That may not be necessary,” he
finally explained. “We shall per
haps work our way through to what
are locally known as the Barrens
and come out along your Hudson
Bay coast. It is a country you
may happen to know?”
Slade smiled.
"I know it all right. As much as
a white man can know such ice
fringed emptiness.”
The bush pilot found himself be
ing inspected with a new interest
“That is extremely good news,”
averred his passenger. "As we fly
north, I hope you will give me in
formation about a country that is
still distressingly unknown to me."
Slade resisted the temptation to
observe that it wouldn’t be so un
known to him by the time he’d
wintered there.
“But you won’t get swans as far
east as the bay,” he pointed out
instead. “At least, not trumpeters.”
Frayne’s smile became more
friendly.
“Already,” he announced, "you
are helping me. And there is an
other point on which you might en
lighten us. Is the Anawotto River
navigable?”
“No, it’s not navigable,” an
swered Slade. "It’s blocked by too
many falls and rapids. That's what's
kept the country closed. Even Tyr
rell couldn’t get into it.”
“But there were no planes when
Tyrrell made his survey,” observed
the scholar.
“It’s sure empty country,” assert
ed the pilot, who had his own mem
ories of the Anawotto,
"That,” murmured the swan hunt
er, "is entirely to my liking.”
“But you’re not entirely to my
liking,” was the thought that hov
ered about at the back of Slade’s
head. Lynn, he felt, was right Yet
be was their Santa Claus, as Cruger
had expressed it. He had paid well
for service, and he’d get service.
Slade dismissed that thought and
turned to study the silver-winged
Lockheed that rested on the waters
of the Snye. It looked spick and
span in its new coat of aluminum.
He realized, as he swung about,
that the man in the bifocal glasses
was also studying the Lockheed.
“An attractive ship," the scientist
observed. “It was my intention to
own her. But in that I was fore
stalled by your friend Cruger."
Slade smiled at the sharpened
note in the other’s voice.
“You have to scramble for ’em,
nowadays,” observed Cruger’s bush
hawk partner.
bo i am learning, announced j
the swan-seeker. He said it casu
ally. But some newer timbre in the
speaker's voice made Slade think of
a gun pit smothered in tree
branches.
The brief northern night was at
its darkest when Cassidy, newly
made watchman for Norland Air-1
ways, shut off the radio. He sighed
as he reached for his thermos at the
end of the deal table and drained it
of its last cupful of coffee. Then,
lighting his pipe, he stepped out into
the open and blinked about through
the darkness.
He wished he could be having a
second thermos of coffee. But there
was no bright-lighted eating room in
that third-rate outfit on the edge of
Nowhere. Its air lanes were as
short of ships as its administration
building was short of paint. All it
was. in faith, was a rough-and-ready
jumping-off place for a lot of luna
tics who wanted to dig holes in a
wilderness where the frost went
deeper than the gold. It could nev
er be classed with those high-toned
airports he’d heard many a far
traveled pilot talking about.
No, Cassidy decided as he made
his rounds, this was a melancholy
place for a man of spirit. He didn’t
like the quietness of the hangar
where the twin-motored Grumman
amphibian stood surrounded by the
engine entrails the workmen had left
scattered about. He was glad to
move down to the dock edge, where
there was a little sound of water
riffles against the floats of the Post
craft that would be going out in
three hours’ time. Beside it, the
only remaining ship in the harbor,
loomed the new Lockheed that
looked more like the ghost of a
plane, in the uncertain starlight,
than a workaday framework of met
al and linen well covered with alu
minum paint.
It startled him, as he stood watch
ing it, that anything so quiet could
give birth to movement. But as he
watched he saw a shadow detach
itself from the shadowy fuselage. He
saw that shadow drop to the near-by
float, and then leap, quick-footed, to
the dock edge.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
R'ltMtd by Western Niwspnprr Union.
•Little RhodyV Civil War
ALTHOUGH Rhode Island Is the
smallest state in the Union, it
was once large enough to have with
in its borders a rather lively little
civil war. True, it was a bloodless
conflict, but it gave to the annals
of our nation one of the few cases
of a citizen of the United States be
ing tried and convicted of treason.
This “comic opera war" occurred
just 100 years ago and its name, the
"Dorr Rebellion" perpetuates the
dubious fame of the principal actor
in it. He was Thomas Wilson Dorr,
member of the Rhode Island legis
lature and founder of a new political
party in his state.
At that time suffrage in Rhode Is
land was still based upon the an
cient charter granted by King
Charles II of England and only hold
ers of real estate valued at $200
and their eldest sons could vote.
In 1834 Dorr had supported an
amendment to the state constitution
which would extend the franchise to
men who paid a tax on any kind of
property valued at $200 or more.
This amendment failed to pass, as
did others which Dorr proposed, so
in 1840 he organized the Suffrage
party which held a mass meeting in
Providence on July 5, 1841 and there
authorized the calling of a state con
stitutional convention.
This convention met the following
October and framed a constitution,
which was submitted to the people
in December. Dorr always asserted
that this plebiscite resulted in the
adoption of the new charter by a
majority of the legal voters as well
as a majority of the adult male
citizens but Gov. Samuel Ward King
and his administration denied this.
However, becoming uneasy over the
situation the administration called a
convention in February, 1842, to
frame a new constitution.
It was rejected by the people the
next month and in April the Suffrage
party held an election, chose Dorr
governor and organized a legislature
composed entirely of its party mem
bers. At the same time an election
under the old charter was held and
Governor King was re-elected. Both
governments organized on May 3
but when Dorr and his adherents
marched on Providence and de
manded the keys to the statehouse,
the custodian refused to turn them
over to him. Thereupon Dorr and
his legislature set up business in a
building that had been erected to
house an iron foundry.
Meanwhile the other legislature
was holding its sessions in New
port and when Dorr, at the head of
300 men, attempted to seize the
state arsenal. Governor King pro
claimed martial law and called out
the militia. Dorr fled from the state
with a price of $1,000 on his head. ;
He went to Washington to appeal to ,
President John Tyler to recognize
him as the legal governor of Rhode
Island but Tyler declined.
Dorr returned to Rhode Island and
rallied his followers to march on the
capital and seize the government by
force. The climax came on July 25,
1842. Governor King's "Law and
Order party” had assembled several
thousand armed men and when they
started to march against Dorr’s
army, it quickly melted away.
Again Dorr fled from the state,
this time with a reward of $5,000
offered for his arrest. But he re
mained at large for another year.
In June, 1843, he returned to Rhode
Island, was immediately arrested
and lodged in prison on a charge ol
treason. Taken to Newport in Feb
ruary, 1844, his trial before the su
preme court resulted in a convic
tion and sentence of solitary con
finement for life at hard labor.
The next year, however. Dorr was
set free. Eight years later his civil
rights were restored but, broken in
spirit and embittered by the stigm?
of “traitor” upon his name, he died
in Providence on December 27, 1854.
Dorr was bom in Providence on
November 5, 1805, the son of a suc
cessful manufacturer. He was a stu
dent at Phillips academy at Exeter,
N. H., and at Harvard college where
he was graduated in 1823 with sec
ond highest honors. He then studied
law in New York City and in 1827
returned to his native city to prac
tice. His political career began when
he was elected as a Federalist to the
general assembly but he left that
party three years later to become a
Democrat. When that party failed
to support his reforms, he left it to
organize his own party.
Ijace Makes Lovely, Dignified
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Itv CHERIE NICHOLAS
KEEPING women attractively
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good taste and ingenuity is the re
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Realizing that the "feminine touch"
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entrusted turn to lace as a wonder
fully effective weapon when it comes
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not only by gowns made of lovely
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It adds swank to this costume that
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This ensemble is completely smart
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Two romantic fabrics are com
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black crepe. This disarmingly love
ly afternoon costume would deco
rate any scene to good advantage.
The slim skirt is knife pleated for
added interest. The rather tailored
jacket is nevertheless dressy be
cause of the mere fact that it is
lace. The long, summer sleeves are
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There’s an exquisiteness about
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inset is a blouse of patrician black
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They carry these black lace charm
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As to lace accessories, you can
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Pastel Plaid
Choose for your fall casual coat
a plaid wool in soft pastel coloring.
This is a coat that college girls
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I
Less Formal W edding
Dresses C.an Re Pretty
The many marriages taking place
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those in service and other circum
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Summer brides who cling to the
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Decorative
Charming are the picturesque
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neck.
New Tweeds
Comes into the autumn fabric
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PorfP’Dcckd Frock
Up-to-Minute Vogue
IJAVE a posie-decked frock in
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• • •
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Enclose 13 cents (plus one cent to
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Two Wishes
It is one thing to wish to have
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wish sincerely to be on the side
of truth.—Whately.
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