a
Bellefonte, Pa., August 30, 1912.
—
FRECKLES
By
Gene Stratton-
Porter
COPYRIGHT. 1904, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE
& CO.
SYNOPSIS.
Freckles, a homeless boy, is hired by
Boss McLean to guard the expensive tim-
ber in the Limberlost from timber thieves.
Freckles does his work faithfully, makes
friends with the birds and yearns to know
more about nature. He lives with Mr.
and Mrs, Duncan.
He resolves to get books and educate
himself. He becomes interested in a huge
pair of vultures and calls his bird friends
his “chickens.”
Some of the trees he is guarding
worth $1,000 each. Freckles’ books arrive.
He receives a call from Wessner.
Wessner attempts to bribe Freckles to
betray his trust, and Freckles whips him.
McLean overhears them and witnesses the
fight.
Freckles’ honesty saves a precious tree.
He finds the nest of the vultures and is
visited by a beautiful young girl.
calls her “the angel” and helps the Bird
Woman in taking photographs. McLean
promises to adopt Freckles.
Freckles and the angel become very
friendly. Assisted by the Bird Woman,
ber thieves, from the Limberlost.
McLean fears more trouble, but Freckles
insists upon being the sole guard of the
timber. Freckles calls upon the angel's
father.
her father is kind. Mrs. Duncan has ex-
citing adventures in the Limberlost.
[Continued from last week. |
CHAPTER XI
WITH 1118S SWAMP ANGEL.
lowed the trail many rods
when her trouble began. She
was not Freckles, and not u
bird of the line was going to be fooled !
into thinking she was. They kept
from all sorts of unexpected places
about her head and feer with quick
whirrs that kept her starting ana
Jumping. Before Freckles was BAaif-
way to the town poor Mre Duncan
neither sung nor performed for her.
“I wouldna stay in this place for a
million a month,” she bad said. and
the sound of her voice brought no com.
fort, for it was so little like she had
about to see if it had really been she
that spoke.
Her chin was quivering like a terri-
fied child's. Almost into her face went
a: nighthawk stretched along a limb
sprang down the trail, lighting on a
frog. The croak it gave as she crush.
ed it sickened her. She screamed wild-
ly and jumped to one side. That car-
ried her into the swale, where the
and her horror of snakes returning she
made a flying leap for an old log lying
along the line. She lit on it squarely,
but it was so damp and rotten that
she sank straight through it to her
she went down and, missing, raked her
wrist over a barb until she laid it
open in a bleeding gash. Her fingers
closed convulsively around the second |
strand,
now. Her tongue stiffened. She clung
frantically to the sagging wire and |
finally managed to grasp it with the |
other hand. Then she could reach the
top wire, and so she drew herself up |
up the club that she had dropped in |
order to extricate herself. Leaning |
heavily on it. she got back to the
trail, !
The wind rose Higher, the changes
abrupt, and the thunder came nearer |
and louder. In swarms the blackbirds
rose from the swale and came flocking
to the interior with a clamoring cry,
*T'check, t'check.” Grackles mar-
trall-n-hee.” Red winged blackbirds
swept low, calling to belated mates,
“Fol-low-me, fol-low-me.” Huge jetty
crows gathered about her, crying. as
if warning her to flee before it was
ing the nearby pool for Freckles’ “find-
out” frog, fell into frouble with a
muskrat and let out a rasplug note.
Mrs. Duncan was too shakea to run
far.
grily buzzing about before she noticed
them. Then the humming swelled to
a roar on all sides. A great, convul-
sive sob shook her, and she ran into
the bushes, now into the swale, any-
ducking, dodging, fighting for her very
life. Presently the humming seemed
to grow a little fainter. She found the
trail again and ran with all her might
from a few of her angry pursuers.
cle, she suddenly became aware that
crossing the trail before her was a
great, round, black body with brown
markings on its back, like painted geo-
metrical patterns. She tried to stop,
8ho calls Freckles McLean's son. Freckles
they drive Wessner and Black Jack, tim-
The angel receives him as her equal, and
ARAH DUNCAN had not fol
whizzing from their nests and darting |
was hysterical and the Limberiost had
thought it that she glanced hastily
for itx daytime nap. Mrs. Duncan
grasses reached almost to her waist,
knees. She caught at the wire as
She was too frightened to scream
and found solid footing. She picked
from light to darkness were more
shaled to their tribal call, *Trall-a-hee,
everlastingly too late. A heron, fish-
Several bees struck her and were an-
where to avoid the swarming bees,
And as she ran, straining every mus-
but the louder buzzing behind warned
are ed her
pened to her. She could not rest until
| she sent for McLean and begged him
her she dared not. Gathering ner | things—positive dangers, unhealthy as | The modesty of women na
turally makes
skirts still higher. with hair flying | it could be. and that since the memory | them shrink from the indelicate ques-
about her face and her eyes almost |
bursting from their sockets. she ran
‘of the first settlers it has been a ren- |
dezvous for runaways, thieves and’
tions, the obnoxious examinations, and
unpleasant local treatments, which some
straight toward it. The sound of her | murderers. This swamp is named for | Physicians consider essential in the treat-
feet and the humming of the bees |
alarmed the rattler. and it stopped
squarely across the trail, lifting its
head above the grasses of the swale
and rattling inquiringly—rattied until
the bees were outdone.
Straight at it went the panic stricken
woman, running wildly and uncontrol-
lably. She took one great leap, clearing
its body on the path, and then flew on
with winged feet. The snake, coiling |
to strike, missed Mrs. Duncan and
landed among the beex instead. They
settled over and about it, and, realiz-
ing that it had found trouble, it sank
among the grosses and went thrashing
towurd the deep willow fringed low
ground where its den was until the
swule looked as if a mighty reaper |
were cutting a wide swath. The mass
of enraged bees darted angrily about,
searching for it, and, colliding with
the scrub thorn, begun a temporary
settling there to discover whether it |
wax u suitable place. Mrs. Duncan |
staggered on a few steps farther, fell
face down on the path, where Freckles
found her, and Iany still.
Freckles worked with her until she
drew a long. quivering breath and |
open2(¢. her eyes
When she saw him bending over her
she closed them tizhtly and. zripping
bim, struggled to her feet. He help-
=, and, with his arm about
and hair earrying her, they made their |
way to the clearing. Then, brawny
Scotswoman though she was, she keel
ed over again. The children added |
their wailing to Freckles’ panic |
This time he was so ne«r the eabin |
that he could carry her into the house '
and lay her on the bed. He sent the |
oldest boy scudding down the corduroy
for the nearest neighbor, and between
them they undressed ber and discover-
ed that she was not bitten. They bath-
ed and bound up the bleeding wrist
and coaxed her back to consciousness.
She lay sobbing and shuddering. The
first intelligent sword she said was,
“Freckles. look at that jar on the
kitchen table and see if my yeast is no
running ower.”
Several days went by before she
could give Duncan and Freckles any
detailed account of what had hap- |
i
i
i
i
to save [Freckles from further risk
about that place of horrors. The boss
went down to the swamp with his
mind fully made up to do so.
Freckles laughed. “Why, Mr. Mec-
Lean, don't you let a woman's nervous
system set you worrying over me,” he
said. “I'm not denying how she felt,
because I've been through it meseif,
but that’s all over and gone. It's the
height of me glory to fight it out with
the old swamp and all that's in it or |
will be coming to it and then to turn |
it over to you, as I promised you and |
meself I'd do, sir. You couldn't break |
the heart of me entire quicker than
to be taking it from me now when
I'm just on the home stretch. You
mustn't let a woman get mixed up |
with business. for I've always heard
about how it's bringing trouble.”
The Bird Woman and the angel ar-
rived on time for the third of the
series and found McLean on the line
talking to Freckles. The boss was fill-
ed with enthusiasm over a marsh arti-
cle of the Bird Woman's that he had
just read. He begged to be allowed
to accompany her into the swamp and
watch the method by which she se-
cured an {illustration in such a loca-
tion.
The Bird Woman explained to him
that it was an easy matter with the
subject she then had in hand, and as
Little Chicken was too small to be
frightened by him and large enough
to be getting troublesome, she was
glad of his company. They went to
the chicken log together, leaving to
the happy Freckles the care of the
angel, who had brought her banjo and
a roll of songs. The Bird Woman
told them that they might go to FFreck-
les' room and practice until she fin-
ished with Little Chicken, and then
she and McLean would come to the
concert.
It was almost three hours before
they finished and came down the west
trail. As they reached the bushes at
the entrance the voice of the angel
stopped them, for it was commanding
and filled with much impatience.
“Freckles James Ross McLean,” she
was saying, “you fill me with dark
blue despair! You're singing as if
your voice was glass and liable to
break at any minute. Why don't you
sing as you did a week ago? You
are a fraud! You led me to think that
there was the making of a great sing-
er in you, and now you are singing—
do you know how badly you are sing-
ing?
“yis,” said Freckles meekly. “I'm
thinking I'm too happy to be singing
well today. The music don't come
right only when I'm lonesome and sad.
The world's for being all sunshine at
prisint, for among you and Mr. Me-
Lean and the Bird Woman I'm after
being that happy that I can't keep me
thoughts on me notes. It's more than
sorry 1 am to be disappointing you.
Play it over, and I'll be beginning
again, and this time I'll hold hard.”
“Well,” said the angel, “it seems to
me that if | had all the things to be
proud of that you have I'd lift up my
head and sing!”
“And what is it I've to be proud of,
ma'am?" politely inquired Freckles.
“Why. a whole worldful of things,"
cried the angel explosively. “For one
thing, you can be good and proud over
the way you've kept the timber thieves
out of this lease and the trust your
father has in you. You can be proud
over the way every one speaks of you.
I heard a man say a few days ago that
the Limberlost was full of disagreeable
a man that got here and wandered
around ‘till he starved. That man !
was talking with said he wouldn't 11k» |
your job for $1,000 a month—in fact, |
he said he wouldn't bave it for auy |
money. and you've never missed n day |
or lost a tree. Proud! Why, | shonld |
think you would just parade around |
about proper over that’ :
“And you can always be proud thar
you are born an Irishman. My forher!
is Irish, and if you want to see nim
Just get up and strut give bim a teeny
opening to enlarge on his race. ie |
says that if the Irish had decent terri
tory they'd lead the world. He says
they've always heen bandieapped hy
lack of space and of fertile soil. {le
says if Ireland had been ns big and ter |
i tle nx Indiana, why, Engiand wound 1
[Continued on page 3, Col. 1]
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