cs
Copyright by
STEWART KIDD COMPANY
—
es
CHAPTER [X—Continued.
— Jn
Now Wiliiton had succeeded. Big
Muskeg was conquered, and on the east
shore the vanguard of the line was
driving the cleared way forward and
pegging out the way for the metals.
Soon grading would begin. Wilton's
camp would shrink, and the engines
would be moved ahead, and—he would
have time to think.
He dreaded that. He had not seen
Molly or the factor since that night
of the subsidence. He knew that
Bowyer had paid more than one visit
to the store, but he shrugged his
shoulders and put it out of his mind.
The workmen, after their months
of arduous labor, had begun to grow
glack. There was restiveness in the
camp. Once or twice Wilton had seen
signs of liquor. He detected it In the
slowing up of work; he had smelled It
in the bunkhouses—the penetrating
odor of cheap alcohol, with its sugges-
tion of gasoline.
Andersen, forestalling him, came to
him about the time of this discovery.
“They're getting that rot-gut again,
Mr. Carruthers,” he sald. “I don’t
know where. I'm keeping my eyes
peeled, but I ain't said nothing.”
“The best policy,” said Wilton. “The
men have worked hard. When this job's
finished we'll let them slack up for
a day or two. Then we'll get down
to business on this proposition. But
if you find out anything let me know
at “once.”
A few days later came the spanning
of the swamp. On the same afternoon
a summons came from the court, to-
gether with a letter from Quain. The
the rifle and transit compass. Wilton
was wanted in Clayton to give evi-
dencé against the men,
The call was opportune. Wilton had
already determined to put Into execu-
tion a plan that he had formed. It
two months remained before the loan
would be called. That would give
Bowyer the control of the Missatibi
Driven by the ironical realization that
he was working for Bowyer, Wilton
had resolved to go to Clayton as soon
who, he knew, would not renew the
note,
Big Muskeg was spanned. And, on
the strength of that, Wilton believed
to the world. He would publish far
and wide the secret of the wheat
lands. He would establish sufficient
confidence In the line to make the
raising of a loan a possibility,
Before leaving he placed a night
guard on duty over the office, and ar-
ranged with Andersen to have three
or four reliable men on watch in the
event of the laborers attempting to
cross the portage. He went to Clayton
and lald his statement
rectors’ meeting. They heard him
frigid silence,
“That's an old story”
the vice-president,
finished.
Aa angry wrangle followed,
led nowhere. They flatly refused to
spend any money on advertising. All
the while, Phayre, leaning back In his
chair, looked on and took no part in
the proceedings.
“It comes to this,” sald Curtis final-
ly, thumping the tahle energetically.
before fn
in
when he
“That's an Old Story,” Sald Curtis,
the Vice-President, When He Had
Finished,
“We'll have to Increase our capital.
The delay has eaten Into our reserves.
We'll have to push straight toward
our objective, the Transcontinental
Then we'll have the monopoly of a
steady freighting business.”
He could not get them to listen to
the story of the wheat lands. Wilton
wanted to advertise it widely, to open
it up to homesteaders. He had plans
for elevators. But the directors, who
resented Kitty's control, were dead
agafhst him, and he got no thanks for
what he had done,
The following morning the Sentinel
—Phayre's paper—came out with a
cartoon showing a widow dropping her
mite into a bottomless pail marked
“Misgsatibl,” which boiled over a slow
fire of wheat stalks.
Somebody had betrayed the secret,
thus forewarning Bowyer and enabling
him to open his campaign to deride it.
But Wiiton would not open his mind
to suspicion,
He took counsel with Jim Betts.
The old man was frankly pessimistic.
#It looks to me,” he ruminated, “as
if them two snakes'll get the line.
Joe must have been mad, or mighty
hard put, when he hypothecated them
shares.” He turned to Wilton. “What
d'ye want to worry about It for, any-
way?" he asked. “If Joe took a chance
like that, he couldn't have felt too
strong about it.”
He 1ald his hand on Wiiton's
shoulder, “Whisky's good,” he said
in his odd way. “So's ginger pop.
But the mixture's h—I1l. So's women
and business, boy. I'd help ye with
that loan If I could see my way. But
I can't. I've been stung too bad al-
ready, and I've got a grandson to
look after. Ye'd better make terms
with Phayre.”
This was one of the worst blows
that had fallen. If Betts had lost
faith, who would have kept it? He"
understood the allusion to Kitty. Betts
thought he was In love with her, Then
s0 must other people.
He was due at the court that day,
and gave his evidence, The half-
breeds received each six months in
the penitentiary—a light sentence, on
the jury's recommendation, Afterward
The two men had sullenly refused
to give any reason for their flight, If
they did not put in that plea.
The jury had believed that one of
them had accidentally shot Joe, and |
that this had been the cause of their |
disappearance, So did Quain, ap-
parently.
“I'm afrald, Will, that we can’t hope
for anything fresh upon that subject,”
he sald.
This business done, Wilton went to
gee Kitty, swallowing his pride. After
ing. Kitty received him In the old
friendly manner, with a touch of re
seve that should have put him on his |
guard. But he began eagerly,
“Kitty,” he sald, “you know we've |
crossed the Muskeg.”
Then Kitty showed her claws, |
“I was so gind when I heard of It, |
Will" she said. “You've been trying
to that all the summer, haven't
you?”
“Why—vyes, of course,” sald Wilton,
her in astonishment.
She pnt her hand on his arm with a
“Do tell me what
a muskeg is, WIL” she said. "I've
heard you speak of it so often, and I
d 0
those words.”
And with that
from him,
face to face with stark reality.
the last of Wilton's
leaving him
He
“Kitty, listen to me now,” he sald.
“I've been in this game for Joe—and |
for you. When Joe died I saw that
we'd have to fight hard to keep the
line. I saw a lot of money In It, later,
and meanwhile you'd have énough to
five on, so that we could use your
capital and your control to carry out
Joe's plans”
“Yes, WIL" sald Kitty, with the
lesson, 5
“Joe's borrowing on those shares has
changed everything. The loan bas to
be repald before the year is out. If
it fsn't, you lose the line. They'll
wreck it, and they'll wreck your for-
tune, and that of the other Investors.
Then they'll reconstruct. When the
{ine has ceased to have any value at
all, Bowyer and Phayre will have a
new line of their own. Dq you under
stand?”
“I'm trying to, Will,” sald Kitty.
“But what do you want me to do?”
“I'm proposing this for your sake,
Kitty. If you sell your property In
Winnipeg you can raise three or four
hundred thousand. I believe I could
borrow the rest That will meet
Phayre's loan, and you'll hold=the line,
It's the onfy way, because no bank
would lend you money on the rest
of your shares now, after Bowyer's
campaign against us, And he's made
the most of the subsidence. It's
speculative—what I'm suggesting. But
Joe would have done it. And In a
few years it'll mean millions.”
Are you sure, Wil?" asked Kitty,
eagerly.
“Not sure, Kitty, but jearly sure”
“Will, you are Joe's executor. Deo
you advise me to take that risk?”
“Nol” sald Wilton sharply.
“But you just sald"
“As Joe's executor, I can't. It's not
gound business. An executor dares
not advise throwing away a certainty
for a speculation. As Joe's executor
nol”
“hen why did you advise me to?”
asked Kitty innocently,
“Because I thought you cared for
the line, Kitty. Because I thought
you shared Joe's dream for the future
i
of the Missatibl., I thought that, even
if you lost, you'd have your house
here, and your forty thousand, and
you'd feel—that you'd done what Joe
would have wanted. As your executor
I say, sell out to Phayre before It's
too late. At least—at least—"
He could get no further, Kitty looked
up Into his face. “Will, I know how
you feel,” she sald softly. “I'm so
sory. I've done what you wanted,
Will. But I haven't done it for Joe.
I've done It for you. WIll, you've
made your own obstacles, You've
never understood me. It's you I want
to help; it's you I want my money
for, WHL"
Afterward Wilton could not imagine
how he had found strength to resist
her. With Molly lost, Jim Betts him-
self counseling surrender, and Kitty
caring nothing for the line, why did
he not let it go? In that hlack hour
the temptation of her presence, the
human love that was his for the tak
ing, screamed their weak coungel in
his ears,
It may have been the fiber of Puritan
ancestors, or simply the inborn instinct
to fight to the end, that gave him his
strength. But he did not know how
he left her till he found himself in the
street,
He went to the bank, the last place,
and the last, hopeless effort,
doomed to fallure. Ie went
Phayre's office,
“Good morning,
sald the president.
you?
“Big Muskeg's bridged,” sald Wil
ton. “That sliculd send up the value of
the shares. I suggest that you renew
Mr. Bofftock's loan when it falls due.”
“My dear Mr. Carruthers,
queer proposition to make to
sald Phayre. “You're pot a simple
ton. Need I say anything more?”
“You know the colisteral is good”
“Good? It's splendid!
all our paper was as reliable”
“Well?
same"
Mr. Carruthers”
“What can I do for
me!”
vances to Wilton she saw by instinct
that she had almost conquered. She
saw, too, that, having lost, she had
lost forever, She int win Wilton
yet, but never In that way.
Now she would go to any lefigths
to oust Molly, Molly had never writ.
ten to her since her departure, and she
did not even know If her scheme had
succeeded In estranging her from Wilk
ton. But she Inferred success from
Wilton's besiring. He had pot looked
iike a successful lover,
Bitterly she reflected on her mar-
riage with Joe. She had never loved
Joe, but neither had she hated him,
She bad loved Wilton, and, bound by
tradition and soclal circumstances, she
had concealed it. Then-——Joe had dled.
Everything had seemed possible, And
Wilton had engaged himself to an-
other—to her best friend. Kitty was
not a bad woman, but she meant to
fight for her own. She would win Wl
ton, cost what it might,
When, therefore, late on the day af-
ter he had called on her, the maid an-
nounced Tom Bowyer, who had never
been in her house before, she sent
down word that she would receive
him.
Neither Wilton nor Bowyer was
aware that the other was in Clayton
when Bowyer called, nor did they
meet,
Kitty came downstairs, to find
Jowyer standing in the parlor, twirls
ing his hat in his hands. There was
a singularly vulpine look on ‘he red
ing.
newest granary of Canada. Only,
they don't know It"
“How do you know it, then?
Phayre chuckled and began to drum
his fingers on the desk,
rectors.” he answered, “Of
there were rumors of it before.
Carruthers,
in
I'm going to have them
I'm a booster for Clayton
those wheat flelds—and
Better throw
with us,
“T'm going back
Mr. Bowyer right
“At least 1 guess
to that.
-—gand I'm going to do It."
What do you say?
to work for you and
away.”
CHAPTER X
The Abysmal Depths.
Molly did not see Bowyer for two
months after Kitty's departure. His
next visit was as unexpected as all of
his. It was in the afternoon, and the
girl came back from a walk along the
sleek, red, and self-satisfied and her
father standing beside him, with that
look of awful fear on his face.
had a momentary impression as If the
factor stood up like a well man; but,
as she entered, the right leg went
limp at his side.
“How d'ye do, Miss McDonald!
called Bowyer. “I just dropped in to
have a chat with the factor in passing.
Big things happening here, eh? The
Missatibl's mighty slow In crossing
Big Muskeg.”
Molly flamed at the insult to Wilton.
She looked at her father, and the ex-
pression on his face went to her heart.
She turned swiftly to Bowyer,
“1 don't want you to come here
again,” abe sald.
He started up, spluttering. “We don't
want you,” she continued. “And we
won't be persecuted by you. There's
law in this country.”
He burst into mocking laughter,
“You never spoke a truer word, Miss
McDonald!” he cried. “I came here
as a friend.”
“You can go as an enemy!” she re
torted. “And you ¢an go now. And
remember-~there are men about here
who can use a whip!”
He glared at her, but went without
a word, and Molly ran to the factor.
“He's torturing you!” she sobbed. “I
don't know what his power over you
is, but he mustn't come here again!”
A few days later Bowyer went in to
Clayton and, by chance, his visit coin-
eided with Wilton's,
When Wilton left her house, Kitty
sank down into a chair, clasping and
unclasping her fingers nervously, The
first time when Wilthn had repulsed
her, she had been too humilinted and
consclence-stricken to bear him resent:
ment. Her visit to Molly had been a
sudden evil impulse, which, when done,
she had attempted to justify.
She had, of course, succeeded.
Gradually she had begun to look ypon
herself as a deeply wronged woman.
When a woman loves, lova Is its own
justification for acts done In its name,
On tho second occasion of her ad
IN FALL FASHIONS
Wide Choice of Color and Range
of Fabrics on the Card.
Cne-Piece Dress, Either in Crepe or
Georgette, Is the First Love of
the Beason.
The question of a new wardrobe
g n welcome one, since the fall model |
offers a cholce of silhouettes, a wide
rholce of color and a range of fabrics |
which far wider than milady has
gnown for several years.
The first love of the season, asserts
2 fashion authority, is the one-piece |
dress either in crepe or georgette; in|
either of these fabrics the long flowing |
{Ines prevail, draperies form uneven |
bemlines and Rems now come well to
the ankles, Draperies touch the floor
on some of the afternoon and many
of the evening gowns. The drapes are |
cpught by huge bejeweled cabochons
in oneside effects, These vagaries
brought the surplice, which comes in
for a great deal of attention. Some
have declared it is an unbecoming line
to most women, but the bouffant skirt
returns it to Its honored place In|
things sartorial. i
There's straight silhouette low walst-
ed and long skirted; the 1850 type
which means a bouffant skirt and tight |
bodice and the flared type which par-|
takes of circular effect; skirts flare out |
smartly from knee to hem. In suits, |
the Balkan blouse coat brings the low
waist to the outer garment, It stands
high In favor. This type is popular]
in the coat dress and three-piece sult.
Crepes are plaited In beads; small |
beads, iridescent beads, all blended to
the colar of the fabrie, are seen on the |
models from some of the best design- |
ers, although some authorities dis!
claim the rumor that beads will con
tinue in their high vogue. The old
fashioned passementerie Is now used
to a stri g advantage with black
i8
yer in the Parlor.
| face,
| Inwardly.
| taking her into unrelished comipanion-
{ ships,
She asked
| pleased to see you,
sald. “It very
call”
Bowyer uttered a short laugh.
Mrs
“T'm
she
to sit down.
Mr. Bowyer,”
you
him
was good of
yostock.™ he
don’t like
about me,’
i not a calling
“and the
know
hat's
part.” sald Kitty
“That's as may
{ business.”
“I'm glad to
i then.” said Kitty
Bowyer looked
| tion. “1 sce
{ other,” he said
| You ought to have beet
| but what you'd have
i you had been,” he added,
{ effort at a compliment,
Kitty laughed outright.
know you have come to get something.”
| she said.
i “Not exactly. We've fixed
| go that you'll be able to pull out about
| Christmas with your full investment
mat
i said,
i They
foo much
poor
- taste on
be.
Bir on
you
at her In. admira-
we
“That's what 1 like
nan Not
n spoiled if
with a clumsy
waft to help him go Into a more re
munerative investment. You know that
little affair of his is off?”
did not need to await her answer
“That's what I came to tell
he went on. “S80 1 know wa, can
count on you to smooth things over if
Carruthers begins to wonder, pYou're
stanch, then?” y
“You ean count on me, Mr, Bowyer,”
answered Kitty, loathing herself and
him. “But how about yourself? I un-
derstand from you that you were going
slow. 1 hope you're not going toe
slow?"
“I'm going to speed things up soon,”
he answered, frowning. “What's
happened helps things along. I don’t
know what the trouble was. I thought
at first it was one of those lover's
quarrels. But it's lasted.” His face
grew red. “I went there” be sald
thickly. “She wouldn't have anything
to say to me. Ordered me off the
place.”
Bowyer leaned forward confidential
ly. “See here, Mrs. Bostock,” he said.
“If 1 get her out of the way-—if 1
guarantee that Will Carruthers and
ghe won't meet again, how'll that suit
you?
“You've changed your mind about
marrying?”
“Maybe yes. Maybe no. I'm not a
marrying man, Nobody is. It's generals
ly an accldent—or a trap. But 1 can
promise you there'll be no trouble from
that quarter. Also, that she'll be out
of the district before winter”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Foresight,
Mrs. Wisely (to maid)-Hurry, Liz.
gle! Hurry! Take the parrot Into
another room, Mr. Wisely has just
lost his collar button. . .
word about the low walst-
the straight silhouette,
and often belted with what
“life saver.” a braided
as thick as one’s
Another
it is
girdie
“life of a
hips
the
gaver” type
und the
es below
ry often the
of the fabric
dait to an advan-
ably. It goes
girdle
avy blue ple
trimmed in
sting on ac
h are long.
the
swinging
drips panels
the
ntively
inter
often have
ARSUTes
’
The sleeve that
Hs
lines
have with well as
h Is not
us,
whis ing more nor less
long; inches
i six
which Is
ight
skirts are ol
four and
the
All
from floor for suits,
is the edict
at last o
: this for-
1 who resent the coming
or many
ng of the short
gives
wornen
‘In the privacy of ybur own boudoir
down your skirts to the
r instep, choose a soft fabric that
in long ying folds. Move
before a fulldength mirror and
grace of line. Wrap a cape
wut your shoulders and
The charm of the
will conquer
agninst the
time
one of
Tey tel
WET
11s or ot »
like garment
ymininity of this gard
woman's prejudice
plenty
Give of
111
iii
:
i
i
“Short skirts will
your newly educated
the earmark of
not sadden,
look
vision.
fall
passe to
A long
mode, will
eye. You,
your
GOWN FOR AFTERNOON WEAR]
This is an Interesting afternoon
gown of black satin, featuring side
panels. The front fastens from neck
to hem with fancy buttons. The dainty,
lace and embroidery collar offers &
finishing touch.
—————————————
HOW TO DARN THE STOCKINGS
Hair and Ravelings Drawn From Old
Hose Best to Use in Mak-
ing Repairs,
Darning wool is so different in qual
ity from the slik used in silk stockings
that it shows clearly when it is used
For the same reas
gon silk thread will no} do. The best
things writes a correspondent,
are halr and ravelings drawn from an
old slik stocking. The ravel-
ing that « be drawn from the woof of
or nine inches
to do
to darn stockings.
nse,
lon gest
iongest
mle bie
Only eigug
oa
is
is much work
to rethread
the needle a good many times,
If the run is In jeg of the stocks
a plece of glazed pa-
ardboard. When
place
ling it; OB
stretching or
pulling it; « ck it in place with &
ig in the foot,
+} Te
thers
long, so If
you will probably have
the
per rather i n Ca
- “TY aly : of t
you arn 1H the section in
tack
Use a ca
To darn a
thread a fine, long
th a suitable raveling, mols-
ing wrong side out,
needle w
ten your fingers, pass them along the
ten it and then
catch al several loops before
they can ra further. Then put in
the number of warp threads that are
ravelin 0 straigh
up
missing ; if eSRAry use one or two ex-
ned
tra ones so as to cover the space well
Make the rows straight and keep the
When you put in
threads turn the stocking
thread the needia
¢ a balr, with tha
rough ti ese of a
threads and
if an inch
w the edges
the hair will break
the ravel-
anyway, ve both of
the turnings, but draw
everywhere else,
thread has
stocking wrong
place the edges of the rum
gnd join them with a row of
stitching. This will take up
spaces even have
all the warp
right side out
again. This ti
passed
needle. Darn in the
run the woof darning
above and half an inch belo
end
2
woof
bh
n
4
of the run. Since
if it is drawn too tight
ing will shrink,
them loose at
then
sv X
ana
o
a
le
smooth
When one missing warp
formed a run turn the
side out,
together
machine i
Then turn the stocks
ing right side out and with a raveling
or a hair sew to it the extra material
turned in so that only a flat seam re
mains, It show, but it will be
strong and neat.
£11
wil
FROCK FOR
ELASTIC AT THE WAISTLINE
Flesh crepe de chine is employed in
this dainty frock for the little miss.
Matching colored ribbons serve as
trimming.
White Fox Furs.
A number white fox furs are
making thelr fppearnnce this season,
They are usually worn with white or
black. The girl who wears one should
be sure of her complexion. Such a
of Determining What Style They
Shall Adopt.
One of the best-known American
style authorities recently declared,
when asked about the ‘waist line for
fall and winter of 1022.23, that nearly
all frocks would have elastic run In
80 that the individual woman could
of where her waist line should be,
according to her own fancy and her
figure. Gener:.lly speaking, there is a
mit to ironclad style rules, and the
chances are no one style will pre
dominate,
Incidentally, for street frocks of the
tailored (ype and for suits and wraps,
a vogue for rather striking plaids is
predicted. Vividly striped wool fab.
rics gre being featured, especially in
motor and sports coats.
Painted Skirt Is New.
The hand-painted skirt is creating
a sensation in fashion circles. It usu.
ally has a white foundation, though
black and vivid colors respond to such
decoration. The designe are put on
with a free hand, sometimes in floral
and sometimes In futurist effects. Se
far their mission has been confined
to outdoor wear,
‘Aluminum Hats,
Aluminum cloth Is a new fabric for
hats, It is very soft and thin and
lends itself admirably to draping. It
is just another evidence of the popu
larity of all metal fabrics,