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MILL.
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contain.
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— cere
CHAPTER IL
The Crime at Big Tree Portage.
HAVE sometimes wondered wheth-
er he was not irked at the pros
pect of my proffered companion-
ship and whether he did not at
first intend to shake me off by obvious
and primitive methods. I had my work,
and more than my work, cut out. for me
in keeping up with November, who, al-
though he was carrying a pack while I
was unloaded, traveled through the
woods at an astonishing pace.
/ He moved from the thighs, bending a
little forward. However thick the un-
derbrush and the trees, he never once
Halted or even wavered, but passed on-
ward with neither check nor pause.
Meanwhile, I blundered in his tracks
until at last, when we came out on the
bank of a strong and swiftly flowing
river. I was fairly done and felt that
had the journey continued much
longer 1 must have | been forced to
give in.
"November threw down his pack and
signed to me to remain beside it, while
,he walked off downstream, only to re-
appear with a canoe.
The rustle of the water as it hissed
against our stem and the wind in the
birches and junipers on the banks soon
lulled me. I was only awakened by the
canoe touching the bank at Big Tree.
Big Tree portage is a recognized
camping place situated between the
great main lumber camp of Briston
and Harpur and the settlement of St.
Amiel, and it lies about equidistant
from both. A small shelter of boughs
stood beneath the spreading branches
' of a large fir; the ground all about was
= gtrewn with tins and debris. On a bare
space in front of the shelter, beside the
charred logs of a campfire, a patch of
blue caught my eye. This, as my sight
grew accustomed to the light, resolved
itself Into the shape of a huge man. He
lay upon his face, and the wind flut-
tered the blue blouse which he was
wearing. It came upon me with a
shock that I was looking at the body
of Henry Lyon, the murdered man.
November, standing up in the canoe,
a wood picture in his buckskin shirt
and jeans, surveyed the scene in si
lence, tlten pushed off again and pad-
dled up and down, staring at the bank.
After a bit he put in and waded ashore.
In obedience to a sign I stayed in the
canoe, from which -I watched the
movements of my companion. First
he went to the body and examined it
with minute care; next he disappeared
within the shelter, came out and stood
for a minute staring toward the riv-
er; finally he called to me to come
ashore.
+ I Dad seefi Novem tirn fhe body
over, and as I came up I was aware
of a great ginger bearded face, horri
bly pale, confronting the sky. It was
easy td feo ‘how the man had died, for
the b had torn a hole at the base
of the neck. The ground beside him
‘was torn up as if by some small sharp
ents.
The idea occurred to me that I woul.
try my hand at detection. I went inte
the shelter. There I found a blanket
two freshly flayed bearskins and a
-pack, which lay open. I came oul
again and carefully examined the
ground in all directions. Suddenly
looking up, I saw November Joe
watching me with a kind of grim and
covert amusement.
“What are you looking for?” said he
“Tuo tracks of the murderer.”
“He didn’t make none.”
I pointed out the spot where the
ground was torn.
“The lumberman that found him—
spiked boots,” said November.
¥How do you know he was not the
murderer?’
“He didn’t get here" till Lyon had
been dead for hours. Compare his
tracks with Lyon’s—much fresher. No,
Mr. Sport, that cock won’t fight. Lyon
reached here in the afternoon of the
day before yesterday. He'd been visit
ing his traps upstream. He hadn’t been
here more’'n a few ‘minutes and was
lighting his pipe in the shelter there
when he hears a voice hail him. He
comes out and sees a man in a canoe
shoved into the bank. That man shot
him dead and cleared off—without
leaving a trace.”
“How can you be sure of all this?”
“Because 1 found a pipe of tobacco
not rightly lit, but just charred on top,
beside Lyon's body, and a newly used
match in t shack. The man that
killed '1 1e downstream and sur-
. Q
“Because, if he’d come upstream
Lyon would ’a’ seen him from the
shack,” said November with admirable
patience,
“You say the shot was fired from a
canoe?”
“The river’s too wide to shoot across,
and, anyway, there's the mark of
where the canoe rested again the bank.
No, this is the work of a right smart
woodsman, and he’s not left me one
clew as to who he is, But I'm not
through with him, mister. Such men
as he needs catching—let’s boil the
kettle.”
We laid the dead man inside the
shack, and sat down beside a fire
which we built among the stones on
the bank of the river. Here November
made tea in true woods fashion, draw-
ing all the strength and bitterness
from the leaves by boiling them. I was
‘wondering what he would do next, for
it appeared that our chance of cateh-
ing the murderer was infinitesimal,
since he had left no clew save the
mark on the bank where his canoe
had rested among the reeds while he
fired his deadly bullet. I put my
thoughts into words.
“You're right,” said November.
“When a chap who's used to the woods
life takes to crime, he’s harder to lay |
hands on than a lynx in a alder patch.”
“Why did not the murderer sink
Lyon’s body in the water? It would
have been well hidden there.”
‘““He couldn’t trust her; the current's
sharp and would put the dead man
ashore as like as not,” he replied. “And
if he’d landed to carry it down to his
canoe, he’d have left tracks, And
more’n that, Lyon might ‘a’ laid in
that clearing till he was a skeleton, but
for the chance of that lumberjack hap-
pening along. There's one fact you
haven’t given much weight to. This
shooting was premeditated. The mur-
derer knew that Lyon would camp
here. The chances are a hundred toc
one against their having met by ac-
cident. The chap that killed him fol-
lowed him downstream. Now, suppose
I can find Lyon’s last camp, 1 may
learn something more. It can’t be
very far off, for he had a tidy sized
pack to carry, besides those green
skins, which loaded him a bit. And,
anyway, it's my only chance.”
So we set out upon our walk. No-
vember soon picked up Lyon’s trail,
leading from Big Tree portage to a
disused tote road, which again led us
due west between the aisles of the for-
est. From midday on through the
whole of the afternoon we traveled un-
til Joe found the deserted camp.
The very first thing my eye lit upon
caused me to cry out in excitement,
for side by side were two beds of bal-
sam branches that had evidently been
placed under the shelter of the same
tent cover. November, then, was right,
Lyon had camped with some one on
the night before he died.
I called out to him. His quiet pa-
tience and an attitude as if rather de-
tached from events fell away from him
like a cloak, and with almost uncanny
swiftness he was making his examina-
tion of the camp. But I was destined
to disappointment, for, as far as I
could see, Joe discovered neither clew
nor anything unusual.
To begin with, he took up and sifted
through the layers of balsam boughs
which had composed the beds, but ap-
parently made no find. From them he
turned quickly to kneel down by the
ashy remains of the fire and to ex-
amine the charred logs one by one.
After that he followed a well marked
trail that led away from the lake fo a
small marsh in the farther part of
which masts of dead timber were
standing in great profusion. Nearer at
hand a number of stumps showed
where the campers had chopped the
wood for their fire.
After looking closely at these stumps
November went swiftly back to the
camp and spent the next ten minutes
in following the tracks which led in
all directions. Then once more he
came back to the fire and methodically
lifted off one charred stick after an-
other. Aft the time I could not imagine
why he did this, but when I under-
stood it the reason was simple and ob-
vious as was that of his every action
when once it was explained.
Before men leave camp they seem
instinctively to throw such trifles as
they do not require or wish to carry on
re, W is general-
iom of the
is never to
m in case
forest
ly expiring, for a
t camper in ti
i
| men had all been away three weeks or
“Why did not the murderer sink Lyon's
body in the water?”
In this case Novemper fad taken oir
nearly every bit of wood before I
heard him utter a smothered exclama-
tion as he held up a piece of stick.
I took it into my own hands and
looked it over. It was charred, but I
saw that one end had been split and
the other end sharpened.
“What in the world is it?” I asked,
puzzled.
November smiled.
he answered.
I was glad he had at last found
something to go upon, for, so far, the
camp had appeared to produce parsi-
moniously little that was suggestive.
Nevertheless, I did not see how this
little bit of spruce, crudely fashioned
and split as it was, would lead us very
far.
November spent another few min-
utes in looking everything over a sec-
ond time, then he took up his ax and
split a couple of logs and lit the fire.
Over it he hung his inevitable kettle
‘and boiled up the leaves of our morn-
ing brew with a liberal handful fresh-
ly added. |
“Well,” 1 said. as he touched the end
of a burning ember to his pipe, “has
this camp helped you?” :
- “Some,” said November. And you?’
He put the question quite seriously,
though I suspect not without some in-
ward irony.
“I can see-that-two men slept under
“Just evidence,”
one tent cover, that they eut the wood.
for their fire in that marsh we visited
and that they were here fer a day,
perhaps two.”
“One was here for three days, the
other one night,” corrected November.
“How can you tell that?”
November pointed to the ground at
the far side of the fire.
“To begin with, No. 1 had his camp |
pitched over there,” said he; Hee
ing my look of perplexity, he adde
pityingly: “We've a wester win
these last two days, but before
wind was east, and he camped the first
night with. i back to it.. Abd: in the |
new camp ‘one bed o’ boughs 18 fresher
than the other.”
The thing seemed so absurdly ‘ob-
vious that I was nettled. . © 0 [ig
“I suppose there are other indications
1 haven't noticed,” I said.
“There might be some you haven't
mentioned,” he answered warily.
“What are they?” ; J
“That the man who killed Lyon is
thick set and very strong; that he has
been a good while in the woods with-
out having gone to a settlement; that
he owns a blunt hatchet such as we
wood chaps call ‘tomahawk No. 3;
that he killed a moose last week; that
he can read; that he spent the night
before the murder in great tromble of
mind and that likely he was a religious
kind o’ chap.”
As November reeled off these details
in his quiet, low keyed voice I stared at
bim in amazement.
“But how can you have found out ail
that?” I said at last. “If it's correct
it’s wonderful!”
“I'll tell you, if you want to hed,
when I’ve got my man—if I ever do
get him. One thing more is sure, he is
a chap who knew Lyon well. The rest
of the job lies in the settlement of St.
Amiel, where Lyon lived.”
¢ We walked back to Big Tree portage
and from there ran down in the canoe
to St. Amiel, arriving the following
evening. About half a mile short of
the settlement November landed and
set up our camp. Afterward we went
on. I had never before visited the
place, and I found it to be a little col-
ony of scattered houses straggling be-
side the river. It possessed two stores
and one of the smallest churches 1
have ever seen.
“You can help me here if you will,”
said November as we paused before
‘the larger of the stores.
“Of course I will. How?”
| “By letting ’em think you've engaged
me as your guide, and we've come in
to St. Amiel to buy some grub and
gear we've run short of.”
“All right.” And with this arrange-
ment we entered the store.
I will not make any attempt to de-
scribe by what roundabout courses of
talk November learned all the n
‘Bank of Buffalo to Cook’s Mill Clay
| Emanuele, Windber, $1,000.
at e
© pt =
WwW Cunt Lut arvull oi
for the time at leas
(U0 MUMDEr ICR
as no hint of
Lyon’s death bad yet drifted back to
his native piace
Little by little it came out that only
five men were absent from the set'le
ment. Two of these, Fitz and Baxter
Gurd. were brothers: who had cone on
an extended trapping expedition. The
other absentees were Highamson,
Lyon’s father-in-law; Thomas Miller, a
professional guide and hunter. and.
lastly, Henry Lyon himself. who had
gone up river to visit his traps, start
ing on the previous Friday. The other
more, and all had started in canoes.
except Lyon, who, having sold his.
went on foot.
Next, by imperceptible degrees, the
talk slid round to the. subject of Lyon’s
wife. They had been married four
Years and had no child. She had been
the belle of St. Amiel, and there had
been no small competition for her
hand. Of the absent men both Miller
and Fitz Gurd had been her suitors,
and the former and Lyon had never
been on good terms since the marriage.
The younger Gurd was a wild fellow.
and only his brother's influence kept
him straight.
COURT NEWS.
REAL ESTATE.
Charles Zimmerman to W. Harry
Lafeure, Southampton twp., $1.
Simon H. Marteeney to Elias Mar-
teeny, Summit twp., $3,500
Delilah Emerick to Benjamin Luth-
er, Southampton twp., $1,500.
E. 0. Dinges to Wm. Farnsworth,
Jenner twp., $700.
Harry Horner to Jenner twp.,
school directors, Jenner twp., $100.
Levi Long to, Irenius Pile, Middle-
creek twp., $1,500.
Mae Miller to Lemanual Dixon,
Shade twp., $125.
Richard Carson to E. G. Lohr,
Shade twp., $150.
Nelson Sanner to Dinah Heining,
Summit Trust Co., to N. T. Boose,
Somerset borough, $7,000.
Boswell Improvement Co., to Ruth
Moore, Boswell, $30.
Manufacturers & Traders National
and Coal Oo., Southampton, $32,500.
Samuel Berklev, to £mma Berkley,
Somerset twp., $4,200.
Christian Holsopple to Eash, Cone-
maugh, twp., $1,500.
John Bishof to Mary Stammler,
Conemaugh twp., $400.
A. A. Diggett to Fannie Eicher,
Somerset twp., $4,150.
Alyin Knepper to Wm. Ringler,
Stonycreek twp., $2,425..
Wm. Farnsworth to D. B. Rienzo,
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Frank Lowry to Millard Bowman,
Elk Lick twp., $630.
Zenus Hollada to Sarah Folk, Elk |
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Dell Arciprete Miceal to Vittoria
Mike Ross to Dell Arciprete Mich-
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