fOVER THE
WHITE
' SNOWS
iii i
I ,
I By STACEY BLAME |
(Copyright.)
The white scud —the flying scud of j
frozen water —that powdered over : 1
Petersburg was singularly like the
scud blown from the edges of the
waves by a cyclone in the China seas. |
It was falling softly, steadily, almost j
imperceptibly, with a temperature 4U j
degrees below freezing point.
John Calvert, who was the corre
spondent of a certain London newspa- :
-or, put his head down as the north ■
Aind blew the smother in his face, and
drew his neck down a little lower into ;
his fur collar. He descended a flight
of sanded steps from the Admiralty j
gardens and reached the ice of the I
frozen Neva, whereupon he took him- |
self by one of the many paths out '
across the ice from bank to bank, j
towards the northern side, which was
an island, and a part of the city where j
business was transacted. He went
through a line of ice-embedded ship- \
ping, and ascended the steps to the
quay-side. He made for a block of
buildings that seemed part offices and
part dwellings, and stopping before a j
tall, narrow house, he gained admit- ;
tance and mounted the stairs right to
the very top. There, pushing open a
door, he entered a room that was evi
dently an office.
"Are you there, Pearson?" he cried. |
An inner door was thrust open
hastily, and a rather short and very
thick-set young man, with a pen be
hind each ear, bounced in.
"Gad. I'm glad to see you have j
come!" he exclaimed, seizing the
journalist's hand. "There's trouble! j
' I want to get a brain bearing on the
subject. Hamlyn is in the hands of
he police."
"The dickens!"
"He was set on last night in the
Prospect, and he was made to disap- j
pear. Jingo! 1 should like to have !
seen the fight he would put. up, but j
there were numbers. He got a hit
from behind."
"He would fight prettily, T know," !
said Calvert, "i wish I could have !
seen it. Copy is scarce. In the Pros
pect, eh? That's daring—a British !
subject. I!ut how have you got to {
know?"
"The affair was s"f>n from a door
way, by a beggar, to whom Hamlyn i
had given half a rouble a little while ;
before. The beggar, knowing him, and !
having the rare sense of gratitude, ;
brought his news along here last j
night."
"But what has Hamlyn done?"
asked Calvert. "He's only been back ;
a day or two from his—er—fur-buying ;
expedition. Has he been obtaining
more—er —furs than the Russian gov
ernment like?"
"Probably yes," said Pearson,
gloomily. He dropped his voice. "Ham- '
lyn came back with the plans of
Tversk in his head."
"Great Scott! And they have tracked
him, eh?"
"And trapped him. He's been ar
rested secretly. He'll be disposed of
secretly. Good heavens! don't you
see he's not got a snail's chance, un- ;
'ess we move in the matter?"
"But, dash it! there's the legation.
He's a British subject, 'and they can |
do something."
"I don't think they can. I don't
think it was in the bargain that they
were to in such circumstances, and
oven supposing they did, they could ;
only maki- represntations through the |
usual diplomatic channels. Inquiries
would be promised, denials of the ar
rest would be made, the wires would
be warmed up between Petersburg and :
and meanwhile Hamlyn would
be out of reach—perhaps dead, or
worse than that—just at the begin
ning of a living death."
"You know something definite, !
then?"
"I don't. Only I know what has
happened before. Anything can hap
pen in Russia. Men whom the Rus- '
sian government fear have a habit of
disappearing suddenly."
"M'yes, that's so. Look here, we
want information."
"And it's here, I believe," said
Pearson, under his breath, as there
came the sound of a footfall on the
stairs outside. The next moment there
came a knock at the door. Pearson 1
opened it and disclosed to view a
yellow-haired lad fumbling in the
breast of his skin jacket. After much
•struggling, he produced a crumpled
letter, and handing it to Pearson,
turned about and made down the
;stairs.
"What is it?" asked Calvert, as he
saw tho other's eyes open wide with
astonishment.
"Rend," muttered Pearson, hoarsely,
thrusting the dirty piece of limp, criss
cross lined paper into the correspon
dent's hand.
"Why. confound it, it's English!"
muttered Calvert in astonishment, and
lie read:
"Geoffrey Hamlyn wns taken from the
IMirsky prison two hours before dawn
'tills morning <-n roil!- for Yujjovskov."
"I say, where lias this note come
Tfrom?" he 'ls 'ls it all right? 1
mean, is there any fake about it?"
"I'll swear there isn't, it's from that
tiia': -'.hat beggar, who, whatever Us
is, Is not a monjlk. He spoke English !
to me." | 1
"And he writes a better fist than I [
do," said Calvert. "Somebody else |
who is not what he seems. What a 1
country this Is!"
"He's able to find out things, any- i
how," returned Pearson, "and for my
part I feel 1 like believing. Do you
know where this Yugovskov Is?
"Sort of penal island oil the Arctic
coast, isn't it?"
"That's i I've heard it described
—a fiendish place absolutely remote
from any civilization whatever. It is
about five miles from the mainland.
Nothing grows there. In summer it is
more or les.. of a swamp, with mos
quitoes that will bore holes through
a blanket swarming there in millions,
and in winh-r it is one long night. ]
The prisons aie not guarded, li they ;
go away and cross the ice to the main
land, the;, only die, for five or six i
hundred miles of swamp and forest
lie between tlvJ coast and any settle- |
nient. Prisoners never come back i
from there. They mostly commit i
suicide. Even the guards are men <
who have been sent there for punish
ment. The place is only accessible in
winter by sledge, and even then it is \
fifteen hundred miles' journey." «
"And he's already started," said s
Calvert, gloomily, "under a sufficient i
guard, 1 have no doubt. I suppose i
they'd start for Viborg by the 0.05 i
train. From there they'd begin the !
sledge journey. Now, what's to be :
done? Such a thing as a sledge being
held up has happened before now," lie ]
added, thoughtfully.
"I'm open for anything," declared '
Pearson.
"You mean you are willing to run
risks," said the correspondent, feeling
for a big pipe in his jacket pocket,
and when he had found it thought
fully cramming it with coarse tobacco.
"Now, what sort of risks? It's a big 1
order butting one's head against the -
Russian government."
"I know, but I owe it to Hamlyn.
He once helped me out of a hole, and
it was a bad hole, and he ran pretty
bad risks in doing it. You know,l
am a bad hand at putting these things
into words, but what I feel is that
even it' I knew that an attempt to res
cue him would be. fruitless, even then
1 should try."
"By the way," murmured the jour
nalist, gazing reflectively out of the
window, "that car you have imported
for the Grand Duke Alex —is it gone—
delivered, eh? 1 fancy his grace has
not yet returned from the Crimea."
"The car is still in the warehouse,"
returned Pearson, lifting his eyes sud
denly as though to read the purport
of the other's question.
"Then if you're seeking risks," said
Calvert, slowly, "seek useful ones.
Hoff long would it take to get that
ear tuned up and going?"
"Gad!" cried Pearson, under his
breath, "is that your idea? I'm with
you. It's our best chance! Let's look
at the map."
"The air's nippy, eh?" said Calvert,
as he slipped the second speed in.
! They were going over the bridge
which leads to the Viborg high road.
' The journalist was steering, with
hands encased in fingerless gloves
made of fur.
"It's enough to cut your face off,
that's a fact," answered Pearson, gaz
| ing forward through the frozen scud. |
"We really need masks for this job."
The thermometer was one degree
above zero. The cold as they sped
through the air seemed to lay hold of
the muscles of their faces and paralyze
them. They lost sense of feeling in
their ears. Their eyebrows and eye
lashes grew stiff with ice.
They crouched low in the car. these
two who, with little thought, had
started out with their lives in their
hands, it was a desperate enough
J journey in itself, without what lay
i beyond, but the one was urged on be
cause he had a debt to pay—a kind of |
a debt that is so seldom paid—a debt I
of gratitude, while the other just j
because, viewing the thing with pro- |
fessional eyes, he had perceived
copy" in it. And, moreover, his sense !
of danger had become blunted long \
: ago.
! The man whom they pursued had, I
with his captors, got a 12 hours' j
start. By means of discreet bribes ;
placed in the right quarters they had !
found confirmation of their first in
formation. and they had learned that.
! as soon as Viborg was reached the !
prisoner would be hurried away north
without delay. Here the railway J
j ended, or rather went onto the west
to Eknas and Abo. Togo north and |
east meant journeying by sledge— |
1 fifteen hundred miles of it, a slow. |
terrible journey—in chains. Some
where after Viborg they hoped to
overtake the sledge. What would ,
happen then depended on circum- !
stances. They were prepared to take .
| risks.
1 Now they were away from the city, j
The houses grew sparse. Odd clumps !
lof white-edged pines straggled here j
I and there along the roadside.
Viborg at last! A white silent city. I
A light here and there shone through j
the double windows, and there was a
1 fragrant, hospitable smell of wood- |
sniofte in the air. They did not stop.
; it was a place where questions might j
i have been asked.
They carried enough food with them
and they ate as they went along.
Night came on again and found them
no more than 20 miles beyond Viborg.
A wall of close-growing pines beset
them on each side. The gloom of the
I forest was about them. Post-houses
they did not stop at, for fear of
I questions being asked as to their
> |journey.
"And yet," observed Calvert,
j through his furs, "we shall have to
r risk it. We shall have to call at the
; | next post-house because we want in
formation. We want to know hnw
far ahead our man is. Why, it's there
—just beyond, 1 can s;*e a light. We'll
just drive ahead of the hit. and then
I'll go back and have a look a' things."
Calvert came out presently hot vrlth
information.
"It was an inspiration to stop
there," he said under his breath.
"There are three Cossacks inside
swilling vodka. They are part of a
guard of six, escorting Hamlyn. The
sledge with the prisoner has gone oil
to the next post-house, the other
three guards doing duty. These
beggars having found a friend here
look like putting another hour in
before they'll start. Now you can bet
they intend stopping at the next
post-house, which is 30 versts from
here. I calculate the sledge will be
a third of that distance on its way.
The question is, can we catch them
up before the stopping place?"
"We'll try," answered Pearson,
grimly, as he let the clutch in. "My
revolver is full." he added, "but I
think you might split .1 packet of
cartridges and drop half in my pocket."
Now. it.was a strange thing that
where they anticipated difficulties
none came. These troubles were to
come later. For when they came in
sight of the sledge, a black blot against
the snow, and black blots about it. a
crackle of revolver shots set the
three Cossacks galloping ahead. The
frightened sledgedriver plied his whip
as the great car plunged through the
white smother at its rear, but he
pulled up the steaming horses, as 1
bullet tugged at his skin ja.ket, and
lie crouched down in the sledge when
lie was threatened with instant death
if lie resisted.
"Oh, you beggars!" cried an English
voice from under the furs in the
sledge. "Oh, you daring beggars!
But I'm tied in here. They are leath
er thongs. Saw them with your knives,
and look o- for shots. My amiable
guards wi' be scouting among the
trees in minute, though you did
startle tt
It wa . jund, for all his cheerful
speech, jat Haniiyn could not move
when tiie thongs were cut, for the
long cramped position and the in
tense cold had literally taken all life
out of his limbs. Calvert picked him
up and put him in the car, and he
swung himself aboard as the great ve
hicle surged forward again.
"Lie low," cried Hamlyn, who lay
in the tonneau upon an uncomfortable
stack of petrol tins, "there are some
bullets coming."
Three spots of fire broke out 011 the
gloom of the forest to the left of them
almost the next moment. A bullet
clattered harshly on the bonnet, but
that was the only hit.
"I fancy they'll follow us," said
Hamlyn, "and I suppose this is your
best pace. Whist! it is snow plowing.
You're a pair of lucky beggars. If
you'll allow me, I'll try and get some
blood into my limbs. 1 say, where
are you making for?"
"The coast," answered Calvert.
"Nikolaistadt, eh? It was closed
by the Ice a fortnight ago, and the
next ships that are there will stop till
winter; yet, I have friends there,
ifullo! my sweet guards are following,
as 1 thought. If you could lend me a
shooter, I'll try and make them jump
when they're near enough."
Hut the pursuers came no nearer.
I They could be seen easily keeping
; their position a quarter of a mile
away. The pace of the car had dropped
down to ten miles an hour.
"What we have to fear is that-at
the next post-house they'll use the
telegraph," said K ll pert Hamlyn, "in
which case every guard along the
road will turn out and be ready look
ing for us.
"Then I reckon we'll cut the wire a
little further on," answered Pearson,
laconically.
Now, this story ought to end here,
I but it really didn't, because life and
fate have 110 sense of dramatic fitness.
■ To begin with, Pearson's business as a
i generaJ importer was seriously jeopar
dized by Grand Duke Alex counter
! manding the order for the car by
| reason of its being so behind time
in delivery. As a matter of fact, the
big car had to lie aboard ship at
Nikoiaistadt all the winter till the
' breaking of the ice in the spring per
mitted it.to be delivered at Peters
burg again, for the bringing of it over
land was not to be thought of; and
t when at length it was landed at the
j capital again, and another duty paid
! upon it, the police made pointed re
marks as to its condiiton, observing
: that its tires were well worn, and that
lit had more scratches, and bruises,
and dents about its body than are
usually looked for in a new car. To
all of which objections Pearson had
; ingenious reasons to offer, backed by
! portions of hard currency concealed
1 in the palm at. the crucial moment.
And then Rupert Hamlyn found
; that at Nikolaistadt he was by no
means out of the wood, for it took
him the best part of the winter to get
jby easy stages over the Prussian
| frontier. Perhaps Jack Calvert was
j the only gainer, for he made a news
paper boom out of the thing that will
| lie remembered now, though he, like
Hamlyn, has found it. safer to leave
| Russia out of the sphere of his activ
! ities just for the moment.
(Copyright.)
Ibsen's Methods.
Blumenthal, the great theater man
ager of Berlin, was once talking with
Tolstoy about Ibsen and said: "1
i have put a good many of his plays on
; the stage, but I can't say that 1
! quite understand them. Do you un
derstand them?" "Ibsen doesn't un-
J derstand them himself," Tolstoy re
plied; "he just writes them and then
i sits down and waits. After awhile his
expounders and explainers come (Uid
| teil hiiu what he meant,"
Lin^^ckli^^n^Firel^Love
"And so you are Cal At.terson's
boy," said Lira Jucklin as he sat down
on the stops of the grocery store.
"My, how you young chaps come on.
And you? Ab Sarver's youngest, eh?
Hasn't seemed more than a week
since I saw you riding a slick horse
and here you are big enough to make
love to the girls.
"Don't make love to 'em? no on
with you. I'll bet your heart has been
wrung and hung out to dry more
than once. When I was about your
ago I fell sick along about tobacco-cut
ting time, and I didn't think I was
ever goin' to get well. The cause of
my sickness was a young gal lhat
came into the neighborhood to visit
her uncle. I haven't time now to tell
you how beautiful I thought she was.
I didn't believe she belonged on the
ground at all —just touched it now and
then to accommodate the earth, you
know. She flew down from a cloud
that the sun was a shinin' on and
didn't care togo back. Recollect how
astonished I was the first time I ever
saw her eat. I thought she just natur
ally sucked the honey out of the hon
eysuckle along with the hummin'
birds, and when I saw her worryln'
with an ear of boiled corn big enough
to scare a two-year-old calf I went out
and leaned against, the fence. But It
didn't hurt my love any. I thought
she did it just to show that she might
possibly be a human being. She didn't
want us all to feal bad. One night
I groaned so that mother came to
me and wanted to put mustard plas
ters on me. She 'lowed that mebby
she might draw out the inflammation.
She thought I had somethin' the mat
ter with my stomach because I had
lost my appetite. I told her that I
had an Inflammation she couldn't
draw out with a yoke of steers. Then
she thought I ought to have an emot
ia I said that if she had one that
would make me throw up my soul she
might fetch it along, but otherwise
It would be as useless as saying mew
to a dead cat. Then she thought I
must be crazy and came mighty nigh
hittin' the mark, I tell you.
"A few days afterward, about the
time I was at the height of my fever,
I met the girl in the road and she
■mlled at me, and Iran against a
beech tree and if I didn't knock the
bark off I'm the biggest liar in the
world. When I came to I had my arm
around a sheep, a walkln' across the
woods pasture.
"My, my, what a time that was to
live. The sun had just riz for the
first time and they had just called up
the birds to give out the songs to
them. They wan't quite done settin'
the stars out in the sky, and they
hadn't put more than one coat of
whitewash on the moon. Music —it
wa'n't there till she came, and the
orchards bloomed as she walked along
HEARD a beau
tiful story the
other day about
an afflicted father,
a loving daughter,
and a piano.
It seems that
the father had
long wished his
daughter to be
come a proficient
performer on the
piano, and the
daughter, distrust
ing her own capa
bilities, had made
up her mind that
she could never
play well enough
to make her de
votion of hours
and hours of prac
tice worth while.
Suddenly,, and
r-icrf
p— ■
almost without warning, her father
was stricken with blindness, and then
the daughter, taking a leaf out of Dick
ens, determined to play Dot to his
Caleb, and with that in view she
bought a piano player on the instal
ment plan.
Her father had been away for some
weeks When the automatic player
came to the house, and upon his re
turn she said to him: "Father, dear,
would you like to hear some music?"
And her father said: "I would, in
deed, daughter, if you can play some
for me. 1 want to see if you have im
proved during my absence."
So the old gentleman sat himself
down on the sofa and turned his ear
toward the piano, and the daughter
put a Hungarian Rhapsody by Liszt
In its place and started the mechanism.
When she came to an cud her fa
ther called her to him and kissed her
Upon her forehead and patted her
down the lane. But she didn't appear
to know it, and I want to tell you that
I marveled at such ignorance.
"I didn't have the courage togo
straight up to her, and one night at
meetin', when I was feast in' my soul
with merely lookin' at her, up walked
a feller and asked if he might take her
home. I looked at him, quick-like, ex
pectin' to see him drop dead, but he
didn't. Then I waited for the light
nin' to strike him, but it didn't. Then
I waited for her to kill him with a
look, but she didn't. She smiled and
said yes. Then I sneaked outside and
whetted my knife on my boot. There
wa'n't power enough on earth to keep
me from bathln' my hands in his
blood. Mother saw that there was
somethin' wrong with me and she
came out and asked me If I was sick.
I told her I was a dyin', but before I
bid farewell to the earth I was goin'
to cut a scoundrel into strips and
feed him to the dogs. But pap he
came and took the knife away from
me and said if he heard any more
such talk he'd tan my hide till it was
fitten for shoestrings. I don't know
how I got home that night, but after
a long time I found myself a smoth
erin' in bed. There was a well in the
yard and I thought I'd slip out and
drown myself. Just then I heard a
rooster crow, and recollectin' that
there was to be a fight over across
the creek within a few days, I de
cided that mebby I still had somethin'
to live for.
"But I didn't give up my idea of
vengeance on that feller, and one day
I met him as I was comin' along the
road. I 'lowed that before I knocked
him down it would be well to inform
him as to how he stood in my opin
ion, and I started out and I don't know
what I might have said if he had giv
en me a chance. But he didn't. He
didn't appear to think that there were
stars enough, bo he began to knock
them out of my eyes and I saw some
of them as they sailed away. Among
them was a comet with a tail about as
long as a well chain. When I came to
a muley cow was ringin' her bell over
my head. I propped my eyes open till
I could get home, and they covered
me with fresh meat and left me to
think over the situation.
"It was no laughin' matter, boys,
I'll tell you that. The next day the
girl came over. She said that she
heard that a bull had met me and dis
agreed with me. What a lie that fel
low had told her; and she insisted on
seein' me. She came into the room
and I looked at her through a hole in
a beefsteak. She laughed. Oh, I
don't blame her now, you understand,
but just at that moment my love
stubbed its toe and fell, and fell hard,
I want to remark. She said she was
awful sorry for me and I said she
acted like it.
cheek and said: "What a dear little
thing it is and how much it loves
to please its papa. Paderewski might
interpret it differently but he could
not play it any faster."
And while the daughter's pride and
her conscience were having it out be
tween them, her father said: "Daugh
ter, I toe have a surprise."
He turned toward her and contin
ued: "While in New York I visited
an oculist and I can now see as well
as I ever could. llow much do you
have to pay a month for the thing?"
000
INCLOSE an in
teresting clipping
that will appeal
especially to you.
Let me know
what you think of
it."
And then she
doesn't inclose it
and the recipient
of her letter vain
ly hunts for it.
The noninelos
ing habit follows
the postal route
all over the world.
It can bo car
ried to madden
ing extremes, as
when the young
man who is
stranded in the
—1 VP
west receives a loving letter from his
mother, in which, after telling him all
the little inconsequences of his native
village, she says,"l did not know
what to get you for your birthday and
so inclose a five-dollar bill."
Imagine the feelings of the poor ten
derfoot, down to his last cent, when
he finds that she has forgotten the in
closure. If only she had forgotten the
villags gossip and remembered the
"I tell you love can't stand much
laughin' at. It's the tenderest plant
that ever peeped out of the soft lap
of crealion, and in laughter if there is
no sympathy there's frost. When a
feller stops lovin' he sees more than
he did before and yet he is blinder.
He sees more In other folks, but sees
that they ain't like the one he loved.
And the. reason that so few people
marry first love is because that sort
of love takes hold as if it wanted to
kill. Don't appear that anything else
will satisfy it. There's no use tryin'
to dodge it, boys; a thief in the night
can't slip up on you half so sly. It is
the oldest thing in the world, but
it is so new that nobody knows yet
how to handle it. It makes ignorance
as wise as a god and hangs a lamp
with perfumed oil where darkness al
ways fell before. A good many of the
old chaps make fun of it, but when
they do you may know that they ain't
nothin' but money getters, and that
marks the death of the soul. Does m»
good to look at you young fellers; I
like to think of the sweet misery
you've got togo through with. Oh,
yes, there's more than one love. It's
like the rheumatism. One attack may
be worse than the others, but it's all
rheumatism just the same, and no
matter how light you've got it you
know when it's there. So you are
Ab Sarver's boy. What's your pap
doin' to-day?"
"Arguin' politics with a feller when
I left home."
"Well, he was always a mighty hand
to argue. I haven't seen him in a long
time. It's a good ways to your house,
ain't it?"
"About ten miles."
"Yes, and the miles get longer and
the days shorter as we grow older.
But no matter how old we get, if the
heart remains sound, we never forget
that rheumatism I told you about. I
wouldn't give the memory of it for
hardly anything In the world. One
of these days you will see her comin'
down the road, a makin' the orchards
bloom as she passes along, and you'll
wonder how you can live another min
it, and you 11 wish yourself dead just
to make her feel bad. If she laughs at
anything anyone else says it will send
a knife blade through your heart, and
if she sighs you'll think it's over some
other feller. There'll be no such thins
as pleasin' you, but I'd rather have it
in store for me than a mountain range
made of gold. Well, boys, it's about
time I was a goin' on home. There's a
woman there that I fell in love with,
years ago, and I haven't fallen out
with her yet.
"So you are Ab Sarver's boy. Yon
make me think, my son. It was your
daddy that told the girl I had met a
bull, and it was your mammy that
made the orchards bloom."
(Copyright, by Opie Read.)
thing that would have made that par
ticular letter memorable.
In the same class as the nonincloa
pra are those who say, "Of course,
George will have written you about
the mysterious happenings in the
house of Cynthia Alendale. How do
you account for them?"
It is more than likely that if Georga
has written at all he will have said,
"I suppose that Emma has told you all
about the blood-curdling affair at
Cynthia Alendale's so I will not waste
your time by telling you about it. But
wasn't it awful? What are we com
ing to?"
If only George awl Emma liad as
sumed that the other had not told a
single thing about the interesting af
fair! Here and there are people who
hate to receive letters, but most of us
are human (Heaven be praised!) and
so in writing put In all the human
touches you can think of, and don't
assume that ''the other fellow" lias
written all the interesting news be
cause you may depend upon it ha
hasn't.
And remember to putin the in
closure even if you forget to post the
letter containing it.
(Copyright, by James Pott & Co.)
Puzzles in Millinery.
•'The hats this last winter have been
puzzlers to even their owners," said
the well-dressed woman, as she care
fully adjusted before the mirror a
handsome creation of velvet and
plumes. "When I went to my mil
liner's a few days ago with this hat
on she looked at me a minute in sur
prise, and then said: 'You are not
wearing your hat right.' She removod,
it and replaced It as she had Intended:
it to be worn, and then I saw that all'
winter I had been walking one
and wearing m y. hat the other."