— i. © By studying woodland evidence “and ¥ 4 Topas middle aged, with a hard face, canoe. - ‘Close reports that Blackmask, a high- / PWY HE more I saw of Joe in the ] days which followed, the more would not continue to bear the name of _. back, married anyway.” quick glance fell at once upon the _ me to put November's skill to the little ~ .Indian—has passed along. Isn't that "come far. SYNOPSIS. James Quaritch engages November Joe as his guide. Joe and he go to Big Tree portage to investigate the murder of a trapper named Lyon. Joe decides that the murderer followed Lyon to his camp and shot aim from a making clever deductions Joe discovers the murderer, Highamson. Lumberman wayvman, is robbing his men. CHAPTER wv. The Seven Lumberjacks. I PAS, I appreciated the man and the more 1 became convinced of his . remarkable gifts. It was not long aft- er our return from St. Amiel before doe succeeded in getting me a fair shot rge red deer buck of Widde- and it so happened that the Eilling of this buck brought us news of old Highamson, for we took the head down to him to set up. Joe and I walked over and found him living with his daughter, Janey Lyon, for the police had never been success- 31 in discovering the identity of the \ enger of Big Tree portage. The two ied very happy together, but I 1 $t acknowledge that I feared from wont 1 saw that the beautiful Janey Lyon much longer. I said as much to November Joe as we were walking “That's ==ture,” said he. “Old Man Highamson told me that neither Bax- Gurd.nor Miller don’t give her no peace. Well, 1 guess a woman's better It was drawing on toward evening in to rain when we turned ® woods into the mile long trail led to November's shack. His ‘ground and, following his eye, I saw , impression of fresh tracks. “What do they tell you?” I asked, for it was aiways a’ matter of interest to daily tests that came in my way. “Try yourself,” said he. ‘“A man in mocecasins—probably an right?’ 1 asked. November Joe smiled grimly. “Not just quite. The man isn't an Indian; he's a white man, and he car- les big news and has not come very ar.” ~¥You’re sure?’ 1 said, stooping to ex- amine the trail more closely. but With: out result. “Certain! The Indian moccasin has no raised heel. These have. He’s not He's traveling fast—see, he springs from the ball of the foot, and when a man finishes a journey on the ron you may be sure he thinks he’s got a good reason for getting to the end of it. This trail leads nowhere ‘but to my shack, and we’ll sure find our man there.” Ten minutes later, when we came in sight of November's home, we were aware of a big man sitting on a log emoking his pipe beside the door. He 1d there was more gray in his russet beard than his age warranted. As soon as we appeared he leaped up and came across the open to meet us. #Blackmask is at it again!” he cried. YT saw a gleam of anticipation, if not of pleasure, cross November's face. He turned to me. “This is Mr. Close, manager of the River Star Pulp company’s Camp C,” he said. “I'd like to make you known to Mr. Quaritch, Mr. Close.” This courtesy concluded, he added in his deliberate tones, “What's Blackmask done now?” “He's at his old tricks! But this year ~ we'll lay him by the heels, or my name's not Joshua Close.” The speak- er looked up, and, seeing my puzzled expression, addressed himself to me. “Last year there-wtre. | five separate robberies committed on the road bé- tween Camp * snd he scttlement,” he explained. ~Ilnch taue jt was just n single lumbeuck who got held up. and each time a man in a black mask was the robber. November here was away.” “Up in Wyoming with a Philadel phia lawyer after elk,” supplemented the tall young woodsman. “The police failed to make any ar- rest, though once they were on the ground within four hours of the hold- 3 —— : Copyright, it, 1913, by P Hesketh Prichard . I'd try to keep a job warm for him till saw a 7 te gdy velvre yestéruay ue came 1 the office and told me his mother was dead and he must have leave for the funeral. He had a good big roll of bills due, and 1 could see he meant to | blow them, so I paid him and told him he came back from the funeral. I gave him ten days to get through with his spree. Something I'd said annoyed him, and after telling the cook his opinion of me and saying he wouldn't sleep another night in a camp where 1 was boss he legged out for the settle ment.” “By himself?” “Yes, alone. Next morning, bright and early, he was back again, and this sas the yarn he slung me. He’d made about eight miles when it came on darkish, and he decided to camp just beyond where we did the most of our timber cut last year. He slept at once and remembers nothing more until he was started awake by a voice shouting at him. He sat up blinking, but the talk he heard scon fetched his eyes open, “ ‘Hands up and no fooling!’ “Of course he put up his hands. He’d no choice, for he couldn’t see any one. Then another man who was in the bushes behind his back ordered him to haul out his bundle of notes and chuck them to the far side of the fire or take the consequences. Dan saw a revolver barrel gleam in the bush. He curseil a bit. but the thieves had the drop on him. so he just had to out with hix wad of notes and heave some meat. us | often do wnen 1 Rul anywhere nigh the camp.” As we made our way toward C. No: vember found the tracks of a youn« buck which had crossed the tote road since the rain, and while I waited he slipped away like a shadow into the wild raspberry growth, returning twen- ty minutes later with the buck upon his shoulders. On reaching Camp C November sold his deer to the cook, and then we went to the office. The men were all away at work, but we found the manager. to “Hands up and no fooling!” whom November told his news. 1 noticed, however, he said nothing of his idea that there had been but one robber. “Phat just spells total failure,” ré- marked Close when he had finished. November assented. “Guess we'll have to wait till another chap is held up,” said he. “You think they'll try their hand at it again?’ { “Sure. cess?” “I'd be inclined to agree with you if it wasn’t for the fact that the men won't leave singly now. They're scared to. A party of six started- ‘@fter- Who'd stop after stch sue- them over gs he was told. A birch log in the fire flared up at the minute, and as the aotes touched the ground he chap in a black mask step out and pick them up and then jump back into the dark. Then the voice that spoke first gave him the hint not tc move for two hours or he’d be shot like a dog. He sat out the two hours by his watch without hearing a sound and then came back to C. “When the boys got all the facts the whole camp was nigh as mad as he was. They put up $50 reward for any ome giving information that will lead to catching the robbers, and I added another hundred for the com- pany. So now, Joe, if you can clap your hand on the brutes you'll be do- ing yourself a good turn and others £00. ” Close ended his narration, and looked at November, who had listened throughout in his habitual silence. “Do the boys up at C know you've come to me?’ he said. “No, I thought shouldn’t.” November Peinaitied silent for a mo- ment. “You'd best aot away back, Mr. Close,” he said at length. “I'll go down to Perkins’ clearing, and have a look ‘at the spot where the robbery took place, and then I'll find some excuse to take me to Camp C, when 1 can make my report to you.” To this Close agreed, and the two of us set out through the woods to the site of Dan Michaels’ bivouac. The ashes of a fire and a few boughs made its scanty furnishings, and in neither did November take much interest. Forth and back he moved, apparently it wiser they drenching rain of the previous day had almost obliterated, until, indeed, after ten minutes, he gave it up. clear every time.” “The robbers,” I corrected. «“There’s but one,” said he. in the bushes.” and parted the boughs of a spruce, up,” went on Close. “But all that is ancient history. It is what happened to Dan Michaels last night that brought me here at seven miles an hour. Dan has been working for pret- tv vich a ti nonths’ stretch. and { 3 i following lines of tracks which the «Well, well,” said he, in his soft cadenced voice, “he always did have the luck.” “Who?” “The robber. Look at last year! Got «Michaels mentioned two voices, and thé man’in the mask stepped info sight at the same moment as the fire glint ed on the revolver of the other man Without a word November led me to the farther side of the dead fire which I had previously seen him lex- noon. They were hoping they'd have the luck to meet the scoundrels and bucking how they'd let daylight into thenv if tl.e: did. But of course they won't turn »p—they’d be shy of such a big party - “Maybe.” sai vovember. Wh your permission, Mr. Close, me and Quaritehil sleep bere tonight.” “All right. Dut I can’t attend to you. I'm behind with my accounts, and I must even them up if it takes: all night.” : : »And there's one question I'd like to have an answer to. It's just this: How did the rol:ber know thant Dan Michaels was worth holding up Or that be was been told by seme one, Bhickmask hax is, unless’— But November would say no more An idea had come into his mind, but I could see he had entire trust in the taciturn young woodsman. Next morning November seemed in no hurry to go, and shortly before the midday meal a party of half a dozen men rushed into the camp. They were all shouting at once, and it was impos- sible for a time to discover what the turmoil was about. Leaning against the wall of the bunkhouse, the silent November surveyed the clamoring knot of men with grim humor. “I tell you again, we've been held up, robbed, cleaned out, the whole six of us!” yelled a short man with a sandy Swede. ing. November advanced. that's ‘there!” would choose t¢ fix a quarrel. at the | facts. to get off clear.” “November's right,” “ Jumberman called Thompson. we started off together. going off on the spree?. He must have got a friend in Camp C all right. That “Aye, unless?" repeated the monuger Close could not draw it from bim: yet “Phot is true!” cried’a fair haired On this they all began shouting again, waving their arms and explain- “Look, boys, an easy, comfortable log over The Swede answered him with a snarl, but, meetinz November's eyes, thought better of it. Joe was the last person upon Wwaom any one would “I was suggesting, boys,” continued November, “tht there's the log hardy, and if yould ‘each choose a soft spot and leave one to speak and the others listen till he’s through with it we'd get ; Every minute wasted glyes ‘them as robbed you the chance said a huge “Here's what happened. We six got our time yesterday morning, and after dinner It were com- Ta Wedding Chndrlie and fast yong Lars they wakes up. and danged if the lot of them hadn't heen robbed same gs us.” A unanimous groan verified the state- ment. “We was tearing mad.” went on the spokesman. ‘Then out we goes to search for the tracks of the thieves.” A look of despair crossed Novem- ber’s face. I knew lie was thinking of the invaluable information the feet of the six victims must have blotted out forever. . “You found them?” inquired Novem- ber. “We did. They was plain enough.” replied the big lumberman. “One man done it. He come up from the brook, did his business and went back to the water. He was a big, heavy chap with large feet, and he wore tanned cowhide bodts patched on the right foot. There were seventeen nails in the heel of the right boot and fifteen in the other. How’s that for track- ing?” CHAPTER V. The Guilty Man. HERE was ho doubt about the fact that November was sur- He said nothing for a fall minute, then he looked up sharply. “How many bottles of whisky had you?” said he. : “Nary one,” answered Thompson. “There isn’t one nearer than Laval- lotte, as you well know. ' We wasn’t drunk, we was drugged. We must 'a’ been, though how it was done beats me, for we had nothing but bread and bacon and tea, and I made the tea my- self.” “Where's the kettle?” “We left that and the frying pan back at the hut, for we're going to hunt the country for the thief. You'll come along, Nov?” “On my own condition, or I'll have nothing to do with it.” “What's it?” “That nary a man of you goes back to Tideson’s bridge but till I give you leave.” “But we want to catch the robber.” “Very well. Go and try if you think you can do it.” An outburst of argument arose, but soon one and another began to say: “We'll leave it to you, Nov.” “Mind you fetch my $190 back for me, Nov.” “Leave Nov alone.” “Go on, Nov.” November laughed. “I suppose you all slept with your money on you?” It appeared they all had, and Lars and Chris, who possessed pocketbooks, | and found them flung, empty, in a cor- ner of the hut. “Well, Mr. Quaritch and mel] be getting along, boys. Tl let you know if I've any luck.” Then suddenly No- | vember turned to the big spokesman and said. “By the way. Thompson. did you fill that kettle at the brook before you found you'd lost your cash?” “No; I run right back.” “That's lucky.” said November. ani we walked away in a roar of shorted ‘questions to the cance placed &t oui disposal by Close. By water we could run down to Tidesou's bridge in ar hour or two “Do you think this is the wark of the same man that beld up Dan Mi chaels?”’ “(Guess so. Can't be sure. The ground’s fine and soft, and we ought to get the answer to a good many ques tions down there.” Thanks to the canoe and a short cut known to November, we arrived at our destination in admirable time. went to the hut where the six had slept. A few articles dropped from the hastily made packs lay about, the fry- ing pan beside the stove and the kettle on its side by the door. November moved found examining everything in his deft, light way. Lastly, he picked up the kettle and peered inside. “What's in it?" sald IL. “Nothing,” returned November. “Well, Thompson told you he hadn't filled it,” 1 reminded him. He gave me a queer little smile. “Just 80,” said he and strolled for fifty yards or 80 up the tote road. “I’ve been along looking at the foot- marks of them six mossbacks,” he vol- unteered. “Now we'll look around ” The inspection of the tracks was nat- urally a somewhat lengthy business. November had studied the trail of the six men to some purpose, for, though he hardiy paused as he ranged the trod- den ground, so swift were his eyes that be named each of the men to me as he pointed to their several tracks. As we approached the bank he indicated a distinct set of footsteps, which we Orr ALCOHOL 3 PER wo AVege!-"' Teangration for, - mile : ple J Pronates DigssonCleetl] ness and Rest. Contains neither: ay nor Mineral. Nor NAarcoTiC. | Ee panel ecjoe of 00 DeSAUIELPITUEER “ - » ’ dle Salls~ e Seed + b Sadie Worm Seed - gear Tove. {| Apetfect Remedy for iH: tion, Stomach Worrns Convulsi ness and LOSS OF SLEEP. Fac Sinile Sinile Signature mature of fiir. ZZ CASTORIA For Infants and Children. {The Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the ighature Use For Bver NEW YORK. At6 months oid [IH pv Tal GASTORIA Thirty Years on seeing tiny look of hewilderment. oi vr adi ILAEES you say tnaer’ November pointed to a grove of birch on the nearer bunk then. he “Those trees.” he answered: “First of all, skirting the path, we | followed to the hut and back again to the water. “He’s the chap that did it,” said No- vember. “That's pretty plain.” “He is a heavier man than I am, and he walks rather on his heels.” November nodded, and began to fol- low the trail, which went down into the stream. He stood at the water's edge examining some stones which had been recently displaced, then wad- ed down into it. “Where was his boat?” I asked. But November had by now reached a large flat ¢ ne some feet out in the amine. At a height of less tha five | ing along dark when we camped in the | Water, and this he was looking round feet from the ground ore or two {wigs | old log hut of Tideson’s bridge. Seein’ | and over with great care. Then he were broken. arA4 the bark a been | what had happened to Dan, we agreed | beckoned to me. The stone was a rubbed near the trunk. J to keep a watch till dawn. First large, flat one, as I have said, and he “He was. 1 mighty interefting man, | watch was Harry’s. In ar hour and a showed me some scratches upon its him with the revolver.” { November’ half he were to wake me. He never farther surface. The scratches were threw back his handsomg head and id. The sun were up before I woke, deep and irregular. 1 stared at them, laughed. ‘*‘There was onfly one chap, and there was all the others sleeping but to me they conveyed nothing. and he fixed the revolvey here in that, round me. I was wonderful surprised, “They don’t look like the mark of a fork. It was a good biuff he played| but 1 fool the kettle and was going! boat.” 1 ventured. on Dan, making him tbfink there was| down to fil her at the b It was “They aicit. But that chap made two agin him! The rafin’s washed out| then that 1 noticed my ro fix | them all right.” he said. most of the tracks, s¢ we’li go up to » i i : “But how or why?’ Camp C and try our } x there. But TC wo El November laughs. “¥ (uaft easwer first I'd better shoot & deer, and the at na! that yet, ‘but Pll gall feu this, the hovs "Nl think T anlv range to carry thom too robbery was done G=te=am § end 3 O'CIOCK jast mC" ~ . sl a i - ag er p Rd A . November Had Reached a Large Flat 8 tone. added, “and he wasn't a 200 pound man an’ heavier than you, but a little thin chap, and he hadn’t a boat.” “Then how did he get away—by wading?” “Maybe he waded.” “Jf he did he must have left the stream somewhere,” 1 exclaimed. “Sure.” “Then you'll be able to find his tracks where he landed.” “No need to.” “Why?” “Because I'm sure of my man.” «lg it the same who held up Dan Michaels?’ “Yes.” With that I had to be satisfied. door; one was the burly Thompson. Nov,” he shouted. “We've got him.” “Who've you got?’ ‘ #The blackguard that robbed us.” Is 17 beveled. “Yes, the boss—no other!” staring at Close. gleens.” (To be Continued) FrTRY aie TISM EIDY YS it was late at night when we approached Camp CO. We jumped ashore and went silently straight to the office, where the manager lived. A crowd stood round, and two men were holding the “Hello! You needn’t bother no more, “Good!” sald November. “Who “Y00k ab ‘Bim Thompson panged open the office door and showed us the manager, Close, sitting on a chair by the fire, looking a good deal dis- “Mr, Close?” exclaimed November. “Got evidence?” inquired November, “Piptop! No one seen him from dark to dawn. And we got the boots. Found sem in a biscuit tin on a shelf in the ghanty just behind here where he KI [DNEY I PILLS hav AND BrP UDR Waverly — the best petroleum products made—all made from high grade Pennsylvania Crud» CL is ni08, Sestimmss iE © ORS) Iubricating oils und paralfino wax. For all purposes. 3av Page Doacklet Free— tells oll about oil Waverly Gil Works Co. § Independent Refiners PITTSBURGH, PA. BITTRER MA HINE WORKS, Db. H. EISEL, : P. J. COVER & som, MEYERSDALE, emer lp iment Hannah More’s Strictness. For real Sabbatarianism we must go | back a little. There was Hannah More, for instance, who refused to dine out on the Sabbath and retired to her own room on the very hint of music on that day. And more. Ex- pressions like “christening” a ship, the “galvation” of a country or the “‘ascen- gion” of a balloon were quite against her idea of the fitness of the use of words which had been exalted by their religious associations.—London Chron- icle. Psaims Not Barred. The other evening Miss Y., a maiden lady of uncertain years, suspecting the cook was entertaining her beau down- stairs, called Martha and inquired whether she did not hear some one talking with her. “Oh, no, ma’am!” cried the quick wit- “It was only me singing “Very good,” returned Miss Y. sig- nificantly. “You may amuse yourself with psalms, but let's have no hims.” —Exchange. Her Awful Sin. A little girl of six once went in great distress to her mother, saying that she had committed a sin which could never be forgiven and which was too bad to be repeated. By dint of a little coaxing she was induced to make a full confession, which was poured forth in this wise: “1 felt so sorry for poor Satan and wanted to give him a little comfort. So I got a glass of cold water and poured it down a little hole in the kitchen floor.” Equine Evolution. Ages ago the horse was an animal no larger than a fox terrier. Today the species has gone so far ahead that the elephantine horses seen on the Liver- pool docks are the wonder of every- body who has seen them, and one of these horses is able to do as much pull- ing as tHree ordinary horses which not been bred in a similar man- London Answers, ner.—
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