6 The love of a man. For a moment the girl hesitated, her ungloved hands clenched on her breast, her bloodless face tense with a strange grief as she saw the outstretched arms of the man whom her treachery had almost lured to his death. Then slowly she approached, and once more Howland held her hands clasped to him and gazed questioningly down into the wild eyes that stared into his own. "'Why did you run away from me?' were the first words that he spoke. They came from him gently as if he had known her for a long time. In them there was no tone of bitterness, and the warmth of his grey eyes there was none of the denunciation which he might have expected. He repeated the question, bending his head until he felt the soft touch of her hair on his lips.   "'I lied!' the words caught in her throat. He saw her struggling to control herself, to stop the quivering of her lip, the tremble in her voice. In another moment she had broken down and with a low sobbing cry sank in a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms. As Howland saw the convulsive trembling of her shoulders, his soul was flooded with a strange joy, not at this side of her grief, but at the knowledge that she was sorry for what she had done. Softly he approached. The girl's fur cap had fallen off. Her long shining braid was half undone and its silken strands fell over her shoulder and glistened in the lamp-glow on the table. His hand hesitated and then fell gently on the bowed head. "'Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true,' he said. "'I believe that it was necessary for you to lie.' Just once his hand stroked her soft hair. Then, catching himself, he went to the opposite side of the narrow table and sat down. When the girl raised her head there was a bright flush in her cheeks. He could see the damp stain of tears on her face, but there was no sign of them now in the eyes that seemed seeking in his own the truth of his words, spoken a few moments before. "'You believe that?' she questioned eagerly. "'You believe that it was necessary for me to lie?'  "'Yes,' said Howlin. He spoke the one word with the finality that sent a gladness into the soft brown eyes across from him. "'I believe that you had to lie to me.' His low voice was vibrant with unbounded faith. Other words were on his lips, but he forced them back. "'A part of what he might have said, a part of the strange, joyous tumult in his heart, betrayed itself in his face, and before that betrayal the girl drew back slowly the color fading from her cheeks. "'And I believe you will not lie to me again,' he said. She rose to her feet and flung back her hair, looking down on him in the manner of one who had never before met this kind of man, and knew not what to make of him. "'No, I will not lie to you again,' she replied more firmly. "'Do you believe me now?' "'Yes.' "'Then go back into the South. I have come to tell you that again tonight, to make you believe me. You should have turned back to La Pa. If you don't go to-morrow!' Her voice seemed to choke her, and she stood without finishing, leaving him to understand what she had meant to say. In an instant Howland was at her side. Once more his old, resolute fighting blood was up. Firmly he took her hands again, his eyes compelling her to look up at him.  "'Now, if you are going to be honest with me, tell me this. Who is going to kill me, and why?' He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her, as she answered. "'I said that I would not lie to you again. If I cannot tell you the truth, I will tell you nothing. It is impossible for me to say why your life is in danger.' "'But you know?' "'Yes.' He seated her again in the chair beside the table, and sat down opposite her.  She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her hair. "'Will you?' he persisted. "'If I tell you who I am,' she said at last, "'you will know who is threatening your life.' He stared at her in astonishment. "'The devil, you say!' The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them. For a second time the girl rose from her chair. "'You will go?' she entreated. "'You will go to-morrow?' Her hand was on the latch of the door. "'You will go?' He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp. Seeing he came toward her. "'Yes, surely I am going to see you safely home.' Suddenly he turned back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door. "'You cannot go!' "'Why?' "'Because,' he caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.  The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear. "'I am glad that you care,' he whispered to her softly. "'You must go!' she still persisted. "'With you, yes,' he answered. "'No, no, to-morrow. "'You must go back to La Paz, back into the south. "'Were you promise me that?' "'Perhaps,' he said, "'I will tell you soon.' She surrendered to the determination in his voice and allowed him to pass out into the night with her. Swiftly she had led him along a path that ran into the deep gloom of the balsam and spruce. He could hear the throbbing of her heart and her quick excited breathing as she stopped, one of her hands clasping him nervously by the arm. "'It is not very far from here,' she whispered. "'You must not go with me.' "'If they saw me with you at this hour,' he felt her shuddering against him. "'Only a little farther,' he begged. She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on more slowly than before, until they came to where a few faint lights in the camp were visible ahead of them. "'Now you must go.' Howlin turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side. "'You have not promised,' she entreated. "'Will you go to-morrow?'  It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known this girl for only a few hours, that until to-night he had heard no word pass from her lips. He was conscious only that in the space of those few hours something had come into his life which he had never known before, and a deep longing to tell her this, to take her sweet face between his hands as they stood in the gloom of the forest, and to confess to her that she had become more to him than a passing vision in a strange wilderness filled him. That night he had forgotten half of the strenuous lessons he had striven years to master. Success, ambition, the mere joy of achievement, were for the first time sunk under a greater thing for him, the pulsating human presence of this girl.  He crushed her hands once more to his breast as he had done on the Great North Trail, holding her so close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom against him. He spoke no word, and still her eyes pleaded with him to go. Suddenly he freed one of his hands and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and turned her face gently until what dim light came down from those stars above glowed in the beauty of her eyes. In his own face she saw that which he had not dared to speak, and from her lips there came a soft little sobbing cry. No, I have not promised, and I will not promise, he said, holding her face so that she could not look away from him. Forgive me for doing this, and before she could move he caught her for a moment close in his arms, holding her so that he felt the quick beating of her heart against his own, the sweep of her hair and breath in his face. This is why I will not go back, he cried softly. It is because I love you, love you! He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms to her. You will forgive me, he begged. I do not mean to do wrong. Only you must know why I shall not go back into the south. From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her. Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke, but its sweetness thrilled him. If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow. And you? I?" he heard the tremulous quiver in her voice.  From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands. Go! Go! she cried tensely. Hurry back to the cabin. Lock your door, and don't come out again to-night. Oh, please, if you love me, please, go!" The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish dark shadows between the thin walls of the forest. He laughed softly. I am not going to run, little girl, he whispered. See! He drew his revolver so that it gleamed in the light of the stars. With a frightened gasp the girl pulled him into the thick bushes beside the path until they stood a dozen paces from where those who were coming down the trail would pass. There was a silence as Howland slipped his weapon back into its holster. Then the voices came again, very near, and at the sound of them his companion shrank close to him, her hands clutching his arms, her white, frightened face raised to him in piteous appeal. His blood leaped through him like fire. He knew that the girl had recognized the voices, that they who were about to pass him were the mysterious enemies against whom she had warned him. Perhaps they were the two who had attacked him on the Great North Trail. His muscles grew tense. The girl could feel them straining under her hand, could feel his body grow rigid and alert. His hand fell again on his revolver. He made a step past her, his eyes flashing, his face as set as iron. Almost sobbing she pressed herself against his breast, holding him back. Don't! Don't! Don't! She whispered. They could hear the cracking of brush under the feet of those who were approaching. Suddenly the sound ceased, not twenty paces away. From his arms the girl's hands rose slowly to his shoulders, to his face, caressingly, pleadingly. Her beautiful eyes glowed, half with terror, half with a prayer to him. Don't!  Don't! If you—if you care for me!  I love you! He whispered again and again. The steps were resumed, the voices died away. Then there came a pressure against his breast, a gentle resistance, and he opened his arms so that the girl drew back from him. Her lips were smiling at him, and in that smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and he could see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks and a dazzling glow into her eyes. They are gone, she said tremblingly. Yes, they are gone. He stood looking down into her glowing face in silence. Then, they are gone, he repeated. They were the men who tried to kill me at Prince Albert. I have let them go, for you. Will you tell me your name? Yes, that much, now. It is Mélis. Mélis! The name fell from him sharply. In an instant there recurred to him all the coset had said, and there almost came from his lips the half-breeds words which had burned themselves in his memory. Perhaps you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the little Mélis. What had Quassé meant? Mélis, he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face. Yes, Mélis! She drew back from him slowly, the color fading from her cheeks, and as she saw the light in his eyes there burst from her a short stifled cry. Now you understand. You understand why you must go back into the south, she almost sobbed. Oh, I have sinned to tell you my name. But you will go, won't you? You will go? For me? For you I would go to the end of the earth, interrupted Howlin, his pale face near to her. But you must tell me why. I don't understand you. I don't know why those men tried to kill me in Prince Albert. I don't know why my life is in danger here. Quassé told me that my warning back there came from a girl named Mélis. I didn't understand him. I don't understand you. It is all a mystery to me. So far as I know I have never had enemies. I never heard your name until Quassé spoke it. What did he mean? What do you mean? Why do you want to drive me from the Wacusco? Why is my life in danger? It is for you to tell me these things. I have been honest with you. I love you. I will fight for you if it is necessary. But you must tell me. Tell me. His breath was hot in her face, and she stared at him as if what she heard robbed her of the power of speech. Won't you tell me? he whispered more softly. Mélis! she made no effort to resist him as he drew her once more in his arms, crushing her sweet lips to his own. Mélis! won't you tell me? Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head, looking squarely into his eyes. If I tell you, she said softly, and in telling you I betray those whom I love, will you promise to bring harm to none of them, but go, go back into the south? And leave you? Yes, and leave me. There was the faintest tremor of a sob in the voice which she was trying so hard to control. His arms tightened about her. I will swear to do what is best for you and for me, he replied. I will swear to bring harm to none whom you care to shield, but I will not promise to leave you. A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and stood back from him. I will think, think, she whispered quickly. Perhaps I will tell you to-morrow night, here, if you will keep your oath and do what is best for you and for me. I swear it. Then I will meet you here, at this time, when the others are asleep. But to-morrow you will be careful, careful. Unconsciously she half reached her arms out to him as she turned toward the path. You will be careful to-morrow, promise me that. I promise, like a shadow she was gone. He heard her quick steps running up the path, saw her form as it disappeared in the forest gloom. For a few moments longer he stood, hardly breathing, until he knew that she had gone beyond his hearing. Then he walked swiftly along the footpath that led to the cabin. End of Chapter 6 Recording by Roger Maline Chapter 7 of The Danger Trail This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline The Danger Trail by James Oliver Kerwood Chapter 7 The Blowing of the Coyote In the new excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being, Howland forgot his own danger, forgot his old caution and the fears that gave birth to it, forgot everything in these moments but may lease and his own great happiness.  He was conscious of no madness in this strange new joy that swept through his being like a fire. He did not stop to weigh with himself the unreasoning impulses that filled him. He had held me lease in his arms, he had told her of his love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness, he was thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes which had spoken faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. And his faith in her had become as limitless as the blue space above him. He had known her for but a few hours, and yet in that time it seemed to him that he had lived longer than in all of the years that had gone before. She had lied to him, had divulged only a part of her identity, and yet he knew that there were reasons for these things. Tomorrow night he would see her again, and then what would she tell him? Whatever it was, it was to be a reward for his own love. He knew that by the half-fearing tremble of her voice, the sobbing catch of her breath, the soft glow in her eyes. Impelled by that love, would she confide in him? And then would he go back into the south? He laughed, softly, joyfully. Yes, he would go back into the south. He would go to the other end of the earth if she would go with him. What was the building of this railroad now to that other great thing that had come into his life? For the first time he saw duty in another light. There were others who could build the road. Success, fortune, ambition, in the old way he had seen them, were overshadowed now by this love of a girl. He stopped and delighted his pipe. The fragrant odor of the tobacco, the flavor of the warm smoke in his mouth, helped to readjust him to cool his heated brain. The old fighting instincts leaped into life again. Go into the south? He asked himself the question once more, and in the gloomy silence of the forest his low laugh fell again as he clenched his hands in anticipation of what was ahead of him. No, he would build the road. And in building it he would win this girl if it was given for him to possess her. His seener thoughts brought back his caution. He went more slowly toward the cabin, keeping in the deep shadows and stopping now and then to listen. At the edge of the clearing he paused for a long time. There was no sign of life about the cabin, abandoned by Gregson and Thorn. It was probable that the two men who had passed along the path had returned to the camp by another trail, and still keeping as much within the shadows as possible he went to the door and entered. With his feet propped in front of the big box stove sat Jackpine. The Indian rose as Howland entered, and something in the sullen gloom of his face caused the young engineer to eye him questioningly. Anyone been here, Jackpine? The old sledge-driver gave his head a negative shake and hunched his shoulders, pointing at the same time to the table on which lay a carefully folded piece of paper. Thorn, he grunted. Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp and read, My dear Howland, I forgot to tell you that our male sledge starts for La Pa tomorrow at noon, and as I'm planning on going down with it, I want you to get over as early as you can in the morning. Can you put on to everything in the camp between eight and twelve? Thorn. A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips. Where do you sleep, Jackpine? he asked suddenly. Cabin in Edge of Woods, replied the Indian. How about breakfast? Thorn hasn't put me on to the grub-line yet. Thorn, say you eat with him in morning. I come early, wake you. After him go to-morrow, eat here. You needn't wake me, said Howland, throwing off his coat. I'll find Thorn, probably before he's up. Good night. Jackpine had half opened the door. And for a moment the engineer caught a glimpse of his dark, grinning face looking back over his shoulder.  After bolting the door, Howland lighted a small table lamp, entering the sleeping-room, and prepared for bed. Got to have a little sleep, no matter if things are going off like a Fourth of July celebration, he grumbled and rolled between the sheets. In spite of his old habit of rising with the breaking of dawn, it was Jackpine who awakened him a few hours later. The camp was hardly a stir when he followed the Indian down among the log cabins to Thorn's quarters. The senior engineer was already dressed. Sorry to hustle you so, Howland, he greeted. But I've got to go down with the mail. Just between you and me, I don't believe the camp doctor is much on his job. I've got a deuced bad shoulder and a worse arm, and I'm going down to a good surgeon as fast as I can. Didn't they send Weston up with you? asked Howland. He knew that Weston was the best accident man in the company's employ. Yes, Weston, replied the senior, eyeing him sharply. I don't mean to say he's not a good man, Howland, he amended quickly. But he doesn't quite seem to take hold of this hurt of mine. By the way, I looked over our payroll, and there is no quassé on it. For an hour after breakfast the two men were busy with papers, maps, and drawings relative to the camp work. Howland had kept in close touch with operations from Chicago, and by the time they were ready to leave for outside inspection, he was confident that he could take hold without the personal assistance of either Gregson or Thorne. Before that hour had passed he was certain of at least one other thing, that it was not in competency that was taking the two senior engineers back to the home office. He had half expected to find the working end in the same disorganized condition as its chiefs. But if Gregson and Thorne had been laboring under a tremendous strain of some kind, it was not reflected in the company's work, as shown in the office records which the latter had spread out before him. That's a big six-months work, said Thorne when they had finished. Good Lord, man, when we first came up here a jackrabbit couldn't hop through this place where you're sitting, and now see what we've got. Fifty cabins, four mess halls, two of the biggest warehouses north of Winnipeg, a post office, a hospital, three blacksmith shops, and a shipyard. A shipyard, exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise. Sure, with a fifty-ton ship half built and frozen stiff in the ice, you can finish her in the spring, and you'll find her mighty useful for bringing supplies from the head of the Wacusco. We're using horses on the ice now. Had a doosed hard time in getting fifty of them up from Lepa. And, besides all this, we've got six miles of roadbed built to the south, and three to the north. We've got a sub-camp at each working end, but most of the men still prefer to come in at night. He dragged himself to the south, and then he went to himself slowly and painfully to his feet as a knock sounded at the door. That's McDonald, our camp superintendent, he explained. Told him to be here at eight. He's a corker for taking hold of things. A little, wiry, red-headed man hopped in as Thorne threw open the door. The moment his eyes fell on Howland, he sprang forward without stretched hand, smiling and bobbing his head. Howland, of course, he cried. Glad to see you. Five minutes late, awful sorry, but they're having the devil's own time over at a coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me. From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a cricket. How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus, tell me if Jack Pine brought me the cigarettes from Lepa. If he forgot them, as the male did, I'll have his life, as sure. He brought them, said Thorne. But how about this coyote, Mac? I thought it was ready to fire. So it is, now. The south ridge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.  It'll make a glorious fireworks. One hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder, and four fifty-pound cases of dynamite.  Mustn't allow you to miss it. Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the male. That's why I want you with Howland and me this morning. It'll be up to you to get him acquainted with every detail in camp. Bully, exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing his hands with brisk enthusiasm. Greggie and Thorne have done some remarkable things, Mr. Howland. You'll open your eyes when you see him. Talk about building railroads. We've got them all beat a thousand ways, tearing through forests, swamps, and those blooming ridge mountains. And here we are, pretty near up at the end of the earth. The new transcontinental isn't in it with us. The, rang off, Mac, exclaimed Thorne, and Howland found himself laughing down into the red, freckled face of the superintendent. He liked this man immensely from the first. He's a bunch of live wires, double-charged all the time, said Thorne in a low voice, as Macdonald went out ahead of them. Always like that. Happy as a boy most of the time, loved by the men, but the very devil himself when he's riled, don't know what this camp would do without him. The same thought occurred to Howland a dozen times during the next two hours. Macdonald seemed to be the life and law of the camp, and he wondered more and more at Thorne's demeanor. The camp chiefs and gang-forman whom they met seemed to stand in a certain awe of the senior engineer, but it was at the little red-headed Scotchman's cheery words that their eyes lighted with enthusiasm. This was not like the old Thorne, who had been the eye, the ear, and the tongue of the company's greatest engineering works for a decade past, and whose boundless enthusiasm and love of work had been the largest factors in the winning of fame that was more than national, but the fact that the old Thorne was more than national. He began to note that there was a strange nervousness about Thorne when they were among the men, an uneasy alertness in his eyes, as though he were looking for some particular face among those they encountered. Macdonald's shrewd eyes observed his perplexity, and once he took an opportunity to whisper, I guess it's about time for Thorne to get back into civilization. There's something bad in his system. He told me yesterday that his injuries are coming along finally. I don't understand it. A little later they returned with Thorne to his room. I want Howland to see this South Coyote go up, said Macdonald. Can you spare him? We'll be back before noon. Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That'll give me time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten. Howland fancied that there was a certain tone of relief in the senior's voice, but he made no mention of it to the superintendent as they walked swiftly to the scene of the blowout. The coyote was ready for firing when they arrived. The coyote itself, a tunnel of fifty feet dug into the solid rock of the mountain and terminating in a chamber packed with explosives, was closed by masses of broken rock, rammed tight, and Macdonald showed his companion where the electric wire passed to the fuse within. It's a confounded mystery to me why Thorne doesn't care to see this bridge blown up, he exclaimed after they had finished the inspection. We've been at work for three months drilling this coyote, and the bigger one to the north. There are four thousand square yards of rock to come out of there, and six thousand out of the other. You don't see shots like those three times in a lifetime, and there'll not be another for us between here and the bay. What's the matter with Thorne? Without waiting for a reply, Macdonald walked swiftly in the direction of a ridge to the right. Already guards had been thrown out on all sides of the mountain, and their thrilling warnings of FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! shouted through megaphones of Birchbark, echoed with ominous meaning through the still wilderness, where for the time all work had ceased. On the top of the ridge half a hundred of the workmen had already assembled, and as Howland and the superintendent came among them, they fell back from around a big, flat boulder on which was stationed the electric battery.  God! But I can't understand why Thorne doesn't care to see this, he said again. Think of it, man! Seven thousand five hundred pounds of powder, and two hundred of dynamite. A touch of this button, a flash along the wire, and the fuse is struck. Then four or five minutes, and up goes a mountain that has stood here since the world began. Isn't it glorious? He straightened himself and took off his hat. Mr. Howland, will you press the button? With a strange thrill, Howland bent over the battery.   One minute, two, three, five, passed while in the bowels of the mountain the fuse was sizzling to its end. Then there came a puff, something like a cloud of dust rising skyward, but without sound, and before its upward belching had ceased a tongue of flame spurred it out of its crest, and after that perhaps two seconds later came the explosion. There was a rumbling and a jarring as if the earth were convulsed underfoot. Volumes of dense black smoke shot upward, shutting the mountain in an impenetrable pall of gloom, and in an instant these rolling, twisting volumes of black became lurid, and an explosion like that of a thousand great guns rent the air. As fast as the eye could follow, sheets of flame shot out of the sea of smoke, climbing higher and higher in lightning flashes, until the lurid tongues licked the air a quarter of a mile above the startled wilderness. Explosion followed explosion, some of them coming in hollow reverberating booms, others sounding as if in mid-air. The heavens were filled with hurtling rocks, solid masses of granite ten feet square were thrown a hundred feet away. Rocks weighing a ton were hurled still farther, as if they were no more than stones flung by the hand of a giant. Chunks that would have crashed from the roof to the basement of a skyscraper, dropped a third and nearly half a mile away. For three minutes the frightful convulsions continued. Then the lurid lights died out of the pall of smoke, and the pall itself began to settle. Howland felt a grip on his arm. Dumbly he turned and looked into the white, staring face of the superintendent. His ears tingled, every fiber in him seemed unstrung. McDonald's voice came to him strange and weird. What do you think of that, Howland? The two men gripped hands, and when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred the path of the new road to the bay. Howland talked but little on their way back to the camp. The scene that he had just witnessed affected him strangely. It stirred once more within him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither found voice in words. He was glad when the dinner was over at Thorns, and with the going of the mail sledge and the senior engineer, there came over him a still deeper sense of joy. Now he was in charge. It was his road from that hour on. He crushed McDonald's hand in a grip that meant more than words when they parted. In his own cabin he threw off his coat and hat, lighted his pipe, and tried to realize just what this all meant for him. He was in charge, in charge of the greatest railroad building job on earth. He, Jack Howland, who less than 20 years ago was a barefooted, half-starved urchin peddling papers in the streets where he was now famous.   That night, after he had seen Melisse, he would know what to do, but he would not be driven away, as Gregson and Thorn had been driven. He was determined on that. The gloom of night falls early in the great northern midwinter, and it was already growing dusk when there came the sound of a voice outside, followed a moment later by a loud knock at the door. At Howland's invitation the door opened, and the head and shoulders of a man appeared. Something has gone wrong out at the North Coyote, sir. And Mr. MacDonald wants you just as fast as you can get out there, he said. He sent me down for you with a sledge. MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing, said Howland, putting on his hat and coat. What's the matter? Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible sweat to see you. Half an hour later the sledge drew up close to the place where Howland had seen a score of men packing bags of powder and dynamite earlier in the day. Half a dozen lanterns were burning among the rocks, but there was no sign of movement or life. The engineer's companion gave a sudden sharp crack of his long whip, and in response to it there came a muffled halloe from out of the gloom. That's MacDonald, sir. You'll find him right up there, near that second light, where the Coyote opens up. He's grilling the life out of half a dozen men in the chamber, where he found the dynamite on top of the powder, instead of under it. All right, called back Howland, starting up among the rocks. Hardly had he taken a dozen steps when a dark object shot out behind him and fell with a crushing force on his head.  For a few moments he was conscious of voices about him. He knew that he was being lifted in the arms of men and that after a time they were carrying him so that his feet dragged on the ground. After that he seemed to be sinking down, down, down, until he lost all sense of existence in a chaos of inky blackness. End of Chapter 7 8 The Hour of Death A red, unwinking eye staring at him fixedly from out of impenetrable gloom, an ogreish, gleaming thing that brought life back into him with a thrill of horror, was Howland's first vision of returning consciousness.  He tried to cry out, but no sound fell from his lips. He strove to move, to fight himself away, but there was no power of movement in his limbs. The eye grew larger. He saw that it was so bright it cast a halo, and the halo widened before his own staring eyes until the dense gloom about it seemed to be melting away. Then he knew. It was a lantern in front of him, not more than ten feet away. Consciousness flooded him and he made another effort to cry out, to free his arms from an invisible clutch that held him powerless. At first he thought this was the clutch of human hands. Then as the lanternlight revealed more clearly the things about him, and the outlines of his own figure, he saw that it was a rope, and he knew that he was unable to cry out because of something tight and suffocating about his mouth. The truth came to him swiftly. He had come up to the coyote on a sledge. Someone had struck him. He remembered that men had half dragged him over the rocks, and these men had bound and gagged him and left him here, with the lantern staring him in the face. But where was he? He shifted his eyes, straining to penetrate the gloom. Ahead of him, just beyond the light, there was a black wall. He could not move his head, but he saw where that same wall closed in on the left. He turned his gaze upward, and it ended with that same imprisoning barrier of rock. Then he looked down, and the cry of horror that rose in his throat died in a muffled groan. The light fell dimly on a sack, two of them, three, a tightly packed wall of them. He knew now what had happened. He was imprisoned in the coyote, and the sacks about him were filled with powder. He was sitting on something hard, a box, fifty pounds of dynamite. The cold sweat stood out in beads on his face, glistening in the lantern glow. From between his feet a thin white ghostly line ran out until it lost itself in the blackness under the lantern. It was the fuse leading to the box of dynamite on which he was sitting. Madly he struggled at the thongs that bound him until he sank exhausted against the row of powder sacks at his back.  And this was the way in which he was to die. There flamed before his eyes the terrible spectacle which he had witnessed a few hours before, the holocaust of fire and smoke and thunder that had disrupted a mountain, a chaos of writhing, twisting fury, and in that moment his heart seemed to cease its beating. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Was it possible that there lived men so fiendish as to condemn him to this sort of death? Why had not his enemies killed him out among the rocks? That would have been easier, quicker, less troublesome. Why did they wish to torture him? What terrible thing had he done? Was he mad, mad, and this all a terrible nightmare, a raving and unreal contortion of things in his brain? In this hour of death, question after question raced through his head, and he answered no one of them. He sat still for a time, scarcely breathing. There was no sound save the beating of his own heart. Then there came another, almost unheard at first, faint, thrilling, maddening, tick, tick, tick. It was the beating of his watch. A spasm of horror seized him. What time was it? The coyote was to be fired at nine o'clock. It was four when he left his cabin. How long had he been unconscious? Was it time, now, now? Was McDonald's finger already reaching out to that little white button which would send him into eternity? He struggled again, gnashing furiously at the thing which covered his mouth, tearing the flesh of his wrists as he twisted at the ropes which bound him, choking himself with his efforts to loosen the thong about his neck. Exhausted again, he sank back, panting, half dead. As he lay with closed eyes, a little of his reason asserted itself. After all, was he such a coward as to go mad? Tick, tick, tick. His watch was beating at a furious rate. Was something wrong with it? Was it going too fast? He tried to count the second, but they raced away from him. When he looked again, his gaze fell on the little yellow tongue of flame in the lantern globe. It was not the steady, unwinking eye of a few minutes before. There was a sputtering weakness about it now, and as he watched the light grew fainter and fainter. The flame was going out. A few minutes more and he would be in darkness. At first the significance of it did not come to him. Then he straightened himself with a jerk that tightened the thong about his neck until it choked him. Hours must have passed since the lantern had been placed on that rock. Else the oil would not be burned out of it now. For the first time, Howland realized that it was becoming more and more difficult for him to get breath. The thing about his neck was tightening, slowly, inexorably, like a hut band of steel. And suddenly, because of this tightening, he found that he had recovered his voice. This damned rawhide is pinching my Adam's apple.  He tried to raise his voice in a shout, though he knew how futile his loudest shrieks would be. The effort choked him more. His suffering was becoming excruciating. Sharp pains darted like red-hot needles through his limbs.  The strength of his limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt any sensation in his cramped feet. He measured the paralysis creeping up his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it, and then a groan of horror rose to his lips. The light had gone out. As if that dying of the little yellow flame were the signal for his death, there came to his ears a sharp hissing sound, a spark leaped up into the blackness before his eyes, and a slow creeping glow came toward him over the rock at his feet.  He did not cry out now. He knew that the end was very near, and in its nearness he found new strength. Once he had seen a man walk to his death on the scaffold, and as the condemned man had spoken his last farewell, with the noose about his neck he had marvelled at the clearness of his voice, at the fearlessness of this creature in his last moment on earth. Now he understood. Inch by inch the fuse burned toward him, a fifth of the distance, a quarter, now a third. At last it reached a half, was almost under his feet, two minutes more of life. He put his whole strength once again in an attempt to free his hands. This time his attempt was cool, steady, masterful, with death one hundred seconds away. His heart gave a sudden bursting leap into his throat when he felt something give. Another effort, and in the powder-choke vault there rang out a thrilling cry of triumph. His hands were free. He reached forward to the fuse, and this time a moaning, wordless sob fell from him, faint, terrifying, with all the horror that might fill a human soul in its inarticulate note. He could not reach the fuse because of the thong about his neck. He felt for his knife. He had left it in his room. Sixty seconds more. Forty. Thirty. He could see the fiery end of the fuse, almost at his feet. Suddenly his groping fingers came in contact with the cold steel of his pocket revolver, and with a last hope he snatched it forth, stretching down his pistol arm until the muzzle of the weapon was within a dozen inches of the deadly spark. At his first shot the spark leaped, but did not go out. After the second there was no longer the fiery creeping thing on the floor, and crushing his head back against the sacks, howlin' sat for many minutes, as if death had in reality come to him in the moment of his deliverance. After a time, with tedious slowness, he worked a hand into his trouser's pocket, where he carried a penknife. It took him a long time to saw through the raw-hide thong about his neck. After that he cut the rope that bound his ankles. He made an effort to rise, but no sooner had he gained his feet than his paralyzed limbs gave way under him, and he dropped any heap on the floor. Very slowly the blood began finding its way through his choked veins again, and with the change there came over him a feeling of infinite restfulness. He stretched himself out, with his face turned to the black wall above, realizing only that he was saved, that he had outwitted his mysterious enemies again, and that he was comfortable. He made no effort to think, to scheme out his further deliverance. He was with the powder and the dynamite, and the powder and the dynamite could not be exploded until human hands came to attach a new fuse. McDonald would attend to that very soon, so he went off into a dose that was almost sleep. In his half-consciousness there came to him but one sound, that dreadful ticking of his watch. He seemed to have listened to it for hours when there arose another sound, the ticking of another watch. He sat up, startled, wondering, and then he laughed happily, as he heard the sound more distinctly. It was the beating of picks on the rock outside. Already McDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the coyote. In half an hour he would be out in the big, breathing world again. The thought brought him to his feet. The numbness was gone from his limbs, and he could walk about. His first move was to strike a match and look at his watch. Half past ten. He spoke the words aloud, thinking of Melyse. In an hour and a half he was to meet her on the trail. Would he be released in time to keep the trist? How should he explain his imprisonment in the coyote so that he could leave McDonald without further loss of time? As the sound of the picks came nearer his brain began working faster. If he could only evade explanations until morning, and then reveal the whole dastardly business to McDonald's, there would be time then for those explanations, for the running down of his murderous assailants, and, in the while, he would be able to keep his appointment with Melyse. He was not long in finding a way in which this scheme could be worked, and, gathering up the severed ropes and rawhide, he concealed them between two of the powder sacks so that those who entered the coyote would discover no signs of his terrible imprisonment. Close to the mouth of the tunnel there was a black rent in the wall of rock, made by a bursting charge of dynamite in which he could conceal himself. When the men were busy examining the broken fuse, he would step out and join them. It would look as though he had crawled through the tunnel after them. Half an hour later a mass of rock rolled down close to his feet, and a few moments after he saw a shadowy human form crawling through the hole it had left. A second followed, and then a third, and the first voice he heard was that of McDonald. Give us the lantern, Bucky! he called back, and a gleam of light shot into the black chamber. The men walked cautiously toward the fuse, and Howland saw the little superintendent fall on his knees. What in hell! he heard him exclaim, and then there was a silence. As quietly as a cat, Howland worked himself to the entrance and made a clatter among the rocks. It was he who responded to the voice. What's up, McDonald? He coolly joined the little group. McDonald looked up, and when he saw the new chief bending over him, his eyes stared in unbounded wonder. Howland, he gasped. It was all he said, but in that one word and in the strange excitement in the superintendent's face, Howland read that which made him turn quickly to the men, giving them his first command as general-in-chief of the road that was going to the bay. Get out of the coyote, boys! he said. We won't do anything more until morning. To McDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low voice. Guard the entrance to this tunnel with half a dozen of your best men tonight, McDonald. I know things which will lead me to investigate this tomorrow. I'm going to leave you as soon as I get outside. Spread the report that it was simply a bad fuse. Understand? He crawled out ahead of the superintendent, and before McDonald had emerged from the coyote, he had already lost himself in the starlit gloom of the night, and was hastening to his trist with the beautiful girl, who, he believed, would reveal to him at least a part of one of the strangest and most diabolical plots that had ever originated in the brain of man. End of Chapter 8. Recording by Roger Moline. Chapter 9 of The Danger Trail. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Moline. The Danger Trail by James Oliver Kerwood. Chapter 9. The Trist. It still lacked nearly an hour of the appointed time when Howland came to the secluded spot in the trail where he was to meet Maley's. Concealed in the deep shadows of the bushes, he seated himself in the end of a fallen spruce and loaded his pipe, taking care to light it with the flare of the match hidden in the hollow of his hands. For the first time since his terrible experience in the coyote, he found himself free to think, and more than ever he began to see the necessity of coolness and of judgment in what he was about to do. Gradually too he fought himself back into his old faith in Maley's. His blood was tingling at fever heat in his desire for vengeance, for the punishment of the human fiends who had attempted to blow him to Adams, and yet at the same time there was no bitterness in him toward the girl. He was sure that she was an unwilling factor in the plot, and that she was doing all in her power to save him. At the same time he began to realize that he should no longer be influenced by her pleading. He had promised, in return for her confidence this night, to leave unpunished those whom she wished to shield. He would take back that promise.  It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch again. Was it possible that Maley's would not come? He could not bring himself to believe that she knew of his imprisonment in the coyote, of this second attempt on his life, and yet, if she did, he rose from the log and began pacing quickly back and forth in the gloom, his thoughts racing through his brain with increasing apprehension. Those who had imprisoned him had learned of his escape an hour ago. Many things might have happened in that time. Perhaps they were fleeing from the camp. Frightened by their failure and fearing the punishment which would be theirs if discovered, it was not improbable that even now they were many miles from the Wacusco, hurrying deeper into the unknown wilderness to the north, and Maley's would be with them. Suddenly he heard a step, a light running step, and with a recognizing cry he sprang out into the starlight to meet the slim, panting, white-faced figure that ran to him from between the thick walls of forest trees. Maley's, he exclaimed softly. He held out his arms and the girl ran straight into them, thrusting her hands against his breast, throwing back her head so that she looked up into his face with a great staring, horror-filled eyes. Now, now, she sobbed. Now will you go? Her hands left his breast and crept to his shoulders.  Her whole body torn in a convulsion of grief and terror that startled him. You will go? she sobbed again and again. You will go? You will go? He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to hers. No, I am not going, dear, he replied in a low, firm voice. Not after what happened to-night. She drew away from him as quickly as if he had struck her, freeing herself even from the touch of his hands. I heard what happened an hour ago, she said, her voice choking her. I overheard them talking. She struggled hard to control herself. You must leave the camp, to-night. In the gloom she saw Howland's teeth gleaming. There was no fear in his smile. He laughed gently down into her eyes as he took her face between his hands again. I want to take back the promise that I gave you last night, me lease. I want to give you a chance to warn any whom you may wish to warn. I shall not return into the south. From this hour begins the hunt for the cowardly devils who have tried to murder me. Before dawn every man in the Wacusco will be in the search, and if we find them there shall be no mercy. Will you help me, or—? She struck his hands from her face, springing back before he had finished. He saw a sudden change of expression. Her lips grew tense and firm. From the death whiteness of her face there faded slowly away the look of soft pleading, the quivering lines of fear. There was a strangeness in her voice when she spoke, something of the hard determination which Howland had put in his own, and yet the tone of it lacked his gentleness and love. Will you please tell me the time? The question was almost startling. Howland held the dial of his watch to the light of the stars. It is a quarter-past midnight. The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips. Are you certain that your watch is not fast? she asked. In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her. Because it will mean a great deal to you, and to me, if it is not a quarter-past midnight, continued Melyce, a growing glow in her eyes. Suddenly she approached him and put both of her warm hands to his face, holding down his arms with her own. Listen, she whispered. Is there nothing, nothing, that will make you change your purpose, that will take you back into the south, to-night? The nearness of the sweet face, the gentle touch of the girl's hands, the soft breath of her lips, sent a maddening impulse through Howland to surrender everything to her. For an instant he wavered. There might be one, just one thing, that would take me away to-night. He replied, his voice trembling with the great love that thrilled him. For you, Melyce, I would give up everything—ambition, fortune, the building of this road.  Will you promise to be my wife when we reach Lipa? A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to his own. That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am, what I have done. He stopped her. Have you done wrong, a great wrong? For a moment her eyes faltered. Then, hesitatingly, there fell from her lips. I don't know. I believe I have. But it's not that—it's not that. Do you mean that I have no right to tell you I love you? he asked. Do you mean that it is wrong for you to listen to me? I—I took it for granted that you were a girl that— No, no, it is not that. She cried quickly, catching his meaning. It is not wrong for you to love me. Suddenly she asked again. Will you please tell me what time it is now? He looked again. Twenty-five minutes after midnight.  I am afraid here. She led the way, passing swiftly beyond the path that branched out to his cabin. Two hundred yards beyond this, a tree had fallen on the edge of the trail, and seating herself on it, Mellise motioned for him to sit down beside her. Howlin's back was to the thick bushes behind them. He looked at the girl, but she had turned away her face. Suddenly she sprang from the log and stood in front of him. Now, she cried, now! And at that signal Howlin's arms were seized from behind, and in another instant he was struggling feebly in the grip of powerful arms which had fastened themselves about him, like wire cable, and the cry that rose to his lips was throttled by a hand over his mouth. For an instant he caught a glimpse of the girl's white face as she stood in the trail. Then strong hands pulled him back, while others bound his wrists and still others held his legs. Everything had passed in a few seconds. Helplessly bound and gagged, he lay on his back in the snow, listening to the low voices that came faintly to him from beyond the bushes. He could understand nothing that they said, and yet he was sure that he recognized among them the voice of Mellise. The voices became fainter. He heard retreating footsteps, and at last they died away entirely. Through a rift in the trees straight above him the white, cold stars of the night gleamed down on him, and howl and stared up at them fixedly until they seemed to be hopping and dancing about in the skies. He wanted to swear, yell, fight. In these moments that he lay on his back in the freezing snow a million demons were born in his blood. The girl had betrayed him again. This time he could find no excuse, no pardon for her. She had accepted his love, had allowed him to kiss her, to hold her in his arms, while beneath that hypocrisy she had plotted his downfall a second time. Deliberately she had given the signal for attack, and now, he heard again the quick running step that he had recognized on the trail.  Without speaking she lifted his head in the hollow of her arm, and crushed her own down against it, kissing him and softly sobbing his name. Good-bye! he heard her breathe. Good-bye! Good-bye! He struggled to cry out as she lowered his head back on the snow, to free his hands, to hold her with him. But he saw her face only once more, bending over him, felt the warm pressure of her lips to his forehead, and then again he could hear her footsteps hurrying away through the forest. End of Chapter 9 Recording by Roger Maline Chapter 10 Of The Danger Trail This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline The Danger Trail By James Oliver Kerwood Chapter 10 A Race Into The North That Mellise loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howlin's brain for many minutes after she had left him bound and gagged in the snow. That she had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as significant. He still felt the sweet warm touch of her lips, the pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair. It was not until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened. He heard, first of all, the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the pattering of dog's feet, and after that the voices of men. The sounds stopped on the trail a dozen feet away from him. With a strange thrill he recognized Quassé's voice. You must be sure that you make no mistake, he heard the half-breed say. Go to the waterfall at the head of the lake and heave down a big rock where the ice is open and the water boiling. Track up the snow with a pair of M. Howlin's high-heeled boots and leave his hat tangled in the bushes. Then tell the superintendent that he stepped on the stone and that it rolled down and toppled him into the chasm. They could never find his body, and they will send down for a new engineer in place of the lost monsieur. Stupified with horror, Howlin strained his ears to catch the rest of the cold-blooded scheme which he was overhearing. But the voices grew lower and he understood no more that was said until Quassé, coming nearer, called out, Help me with the monsieur before you go, Jack Pine. He is a dead weight with all those raw hides about him. As coolly as though he were not more than a chunk of stovewood, Quassé and the Indian came through the bushes, seized him by the head and feet, carried him out into the trail, and laid him lengthwise on the sledge. I hope you have not caught cold lying in the snow, monsieur, said Quassé, bolstering up the engineer's head and shoulders and covering him with heavy furs. We should have been back sooner, but it was impossible. Hula, wunga! he called softly to his lead dog.  As the sledge started, with Quassé running close to the leader, Howlin heard the low snapping of a whip behind him and another voice urging on other dogs. With an effort that almost dislocated his neck, he twisted himself so he could look back at him. A hundred yards away he discerned a second team following in his trail. He saw a shadowy figure running at the head of the dogs, but what there was on the sledge, or what it meant, he could not see or surmise. Mile after mile the two sledges continued without a stop. Quassé did not turn his head, no word fell from his lips, except an occasional signal to the dogs. The trail had turned now straight into the north, and soon Howlin could make out no sign of it, but knew only that they were twisting through the most open places in the forests, and that the play of the polar lights was never over his left shoulder or his right, but always in his face. They had travelled for several hours when Quassé gave a sudden shrill shout to the rearmost sledge and halted his own. The dogs fell in a panting group on the snow, and while they were resting the half-breed relieved his prisoner of the soft buckskin that had been used as a gag.  After I have looked into your pockets, I will free your hand so that you can smoke. Are you comfortable? Comfortable, be damned, were the first words that fell from Howlin's lips, and his blood boiled at the sociable way in which Quassé grinned down into his face. So you're in it, too, eh?  And that lying girl, the smile left Quassé's face. Do you mean Mélis, monsieur Howlin? Yes.  Do you know what I would do if I was her, monsieur? he said in a low voice, and yet one filled with a threat which stilled the words of passion which the engineer was on the point of uttering. Do you know what I would do?  That is what I would do. For God's sake, Quassé, tell me, why, why? Quassé had found Howlin's pistol and freed his hands, and the engineer stretched them out entreatingly. I would give my life for that girl, Quassé. I told her so back there, and she came to me when I was in the snow and he caught himself adding to what he had left incomplete. There is a mistake, Quassé. I am not the man they want to kill. Quassé was smiling at him again. Smoke and think, monsieur. It is impossible for me to tell you why you should be dead, but you ought to know, unless your memory is shorter than a child's. He went to the dogs, stirring them up with the cracking of his whip, and when Howlin turned to look back, he saw a bright flare of light where the other sledge had stopped. A man's voice came from the farther gloom calling to Quassé in French. He tells me I am to take you on alone, said Quassé, after he had replied to the words spoken in a patois which Howlin could not understand. They will join us again very soon.  The half-breed smiled down into his face again. You may thank the blessed virgin that they are with us, he replied softly. If you have any hope outside of heaven, monsieur, it is on that sledge behind. As he went again to the dogs, straightening the leader in his traces, Howlin stared back at the fire-lit space in the forest gloom. He could see a man adding fuel to the blaze, and beyond him, shrouded in the deep shadows of the trees, an indistinct tangle of dogs and sledge. As he strained his eyes to discover more, there was a movement beyond the figure over the fire, and the young engineer's heart leaped with a sudden thrill. Quassé's voice sounded in a shrill shout behind him, and at that warning cry in French, the second figure sprang back into the gloom. But Howlin had recognized it, and the chilled blood in his veins leaped into warm life again, at the knowledge that it was Mélis who was trailing behind them on the second sledge. When you yell like that, give me a little warning, if you please, Jean, he said, speaking as coolly as though he had not recognized the figure that had come for an instant into the fire-light. It is enough to startle the life out of one. It is our way of saying good-bye, monsieur, replied Quassé, with a fierce snap of his whip. Hula! Get along there! he cried to the dogs, and in half a dozen breaths the fire was lost to view. Don comes at about eight o'clock in the northern midwinter. Beyond the fiftieth degree, the first ruddy haze of the sun begins to warm the southeastern skies at nine, and its glow had already risen above the forests before Quassé stopped his team again. For two hours he had not spoken a word to his prisoner, and after several unavailing efforts to break the other's taciturnity, Howlin lapsed into a silence of his own. When he had brought his tired dogs to a halt, Quassé spoke for the first time. We are going to camp here for a few hours, he explained. If you will pledge me your word of honor that you will make no attempt to escape, I will give you the use of your legs until after breakfast, monsieur. What do you say? Have you a Bible, Quassé? No, monsieur, but I have the cross of our version given to me by the missioner at York Factory. Then I will swear by it. I will swear by all the crosses and all the Bibles in the world that I will make no effort to escape. I am paralyzed, Quassé. I couldn't run for a week. Quassé was searching in his pocket. Mon Dieu, he cried excitedly. I have lost it. Ah, come to think, monsieur, I gave the cross to my Marianne before I went into the south, but I will take your word. And who is Marianne, Jean? Will she also be in at the kill? Marianne is my wife, monsieur. Ah, ma belle Marianne, ma chérie, the daughter of an Indian princess, and the granddaughter of a chef de bataillon, monsieur. Could there be better than that? And she is beautiful, monsieur, with hair like the topside of a raven's wing with the sun shining on it. And you love her a great deal, Jean. Next to the version, and it may be a little better. Quassé had severed the rope about the engineer's legs, and as he raised his glowing eyes, Howland reached out and put both hands on his shoulders. And in just that way I love me least, he said softly. Jean, won't you be my friend? I don't want to escape.  Won't you think of what your Marianne might do and be a friend to me? You would die for Marianne if it were necessary, and I would die for the girl back on that sledge. He had staggered to his feet and pointed into the forest through which they had come. I saw her in the firelight, Jean. Why is she following us? Why do they want to kill me? If you would only give me a chance to prove that it is all a mistake that I— Quassé reached out and took his hand. Monsieur, I would like to help you, he interrupted. I liked you that night. We came in together from the fight on the trail. I have liked you since.   They did not do wrong when they tied you in the coyote. They did not do wrong when they tried to kill you on the trail. But I have taken a solemn oath to tell you nothing—nothing beyond this. So as long as you are with me, and that sledge is behind us, your life is not in danger. I will tell you nothing more. Are you hungry, Monsieur? Starved, said Howland. He stumbled a few steps out into the snow, the numbness in his limbs forcing him to catch at trees and saplings to save himself from falling. He was astonished at Quassé's words, and more confused than ever at the half-breed's assurance that his life was no longer in immediate peril. To him this meant that Mélis had not only warned him, but was now playing an active part in preserving his life. And this conclusion added to his perplexity. Who was this girl, who a few hours before had deliberately lured him among his enemies, and who was now fighting to save him? The question held a deeper significance for him than when he had asked himself this same thing at Prince Albert, and when Quassé called for him to return to the campfire and breakfast, he touched once more the forbidden subject. Jean, I don't want to hurt your feelings, he said, seating himself on the sledge. But I've got to get a few things out of my system. I believe this Mélis of yours is a bad woman. Like a flash, Quassé struck at the bait which Howland threw out to him.  Involuntarily the engineer recoiled from that animal-like crouch, from the black rage which was growing each instant in the half-breed's face. Yet Quassé spoke softly and without excitement, even while his shoulders and arms were twitching like a forest cat about to spring. Monsieur, no one in the world must say that about my Marianne, and next to her they must not say it about Mélis. Up there, and he pointed still farther into the north, I know of a hundred men between the Athabasca and the Bay who would kill you for what you have said, and it is not for Jean Quassé to listen to it here.  God! breathed Howland. He looked straight into Quassé's face. I'm glad it's so. Jean, he added slowly. Don't you understand, man? I love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her too, Jean. I said that to find out what you would do. Slowly Quassé relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips. If it was a joke, Monsieur, it was a bad one. It wasn't a joke, cried Howland. It was a serious effort to make you tell me something about Mélis. Listen, Jean. She told me back there that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and gagged in the snow, she came to me and kissed me. I don't understand, Quassé interrupted him. Did she do that, Monsieur? I swear it. Then you are fortunate, smiled Jean, softly. For I will stake my hope in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man, Monsieur. But it will never happen again. I believe that it will, unless you kill me. And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to happen again. There are others who would kill you knowing that it has happened but once. But you must stop this talk, Monsieur. If you persist, I shall put the raw hide over your mouth again. And if I object, fight? You have given me your word of honour. Up here, in the big snows, the keeping of that word is our first law.  Good Lord!  Do you know, Quassé, this whole situation has a good deal of humor, as well as tragedy about it. I must be a most important cuss, whoever I am. Ask me who I am, Quassé. And who are you, Monsieur? I don't know, Jean. Fact? I don't. I used to think that I was a most ambitious young cub in a big engineering establishment down in Chicago. But I guess I was dreaming. Funny dream, wasn't it? Thought I came up here to build a road somewhere through these infernal— No, I mean these beautiful snows. But my mind must have been wandering again. Ever hear of an insane asylum, Quassé? Am I in a big stone building with iron bars at the windows? And are you my keeper? Just come in to amuse me for a time? It's kind of you, Quassé, and I hope that some day I shall get my mind back so that I can thank you decently. Perhaps you'll go mad some day, Jean, and dream about pretty girls, and railroads, and forests and snows, and then I'll be your keeper. Have a cigar. I've got just two left. Mon Dieu, gasped Jean. Yes, I will smoke, Monsieur. Is that moustache good? Fine. I haven't eaten a mouthful since years ago when I dreamed that I sat on a case of dynamite just about to blow up. Did you ever sit on a case of dynamite just about to blow up, Jean? No, Monsieur. It must be unpleasant. That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how whiter it is, whiter than the snow. Quassé looked at him a little anxiously as he ate his meat, and at the gathering, unrest in his eyes, howl and burst into a laugh. Don't be frightened, Jean, he spoke soothingly. I'm harmless. But I promise you that I'll become violent unless something reasonable occurs pretty soon. Hello. Are you going to start so soon? Right away, Monsieur, said Quassé, who was stirring up the dogs. Will you walk and run or ride? Walk and run with your permission. You have it, Monsieur, but if you attempt to escape, I must shoot you. Run on the right of the dogs, even with me. I will take this side. Until Quassé stopped again in the middle of the afternoon, Howland watched the backward trail for the appearance of the second sledge, but there was no sign of it. Once he ventured to bring up the subject to Quassé, who did no more than reply with a hunch of his shoulders and a quick look which warned the engineer to keep his silence. After their second meal the journey was resumed, and by referring occasionally to his compass, Howland observed that the trail was swinging gradually to the eastward. Long before dusk, exhaustion compelled him to ride once more on the sledge. Quassé seemed tireless, and under the early glow of the stars and the red moon, he still led on the worn pack, until at last it stopped on the summit of a mountainous ridge, with a vast plane stretching into the north as far as the eyes could see through the white gloom. The half-breed came back to where Howland was seated on the sledge. We are going but a little farther, monsieur, he said. I must replace the raw hide over your mouth and the thongs about your wrists. I am sorry, but I will leave your legs free. Thanks, said Howland. But really it is unnecessary, Quassé. I am properly subdued to the fact that fate is determined to play out this interesting game of ball with me, and no longer knowing where I am, I promise you to do nothing more exciting than smoke my pipe, if you will allow me to go along peaceably at your side. Quassé hesitated. You will not attempt to escape, and you will hold your tongue? he asked. Yes. Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.  You may go ahead. And he pointed down the side of the mountain. End of CHAPTER X Recording by Roger Maline


If you don't have 100 real fans that will come out to pay money to go to your show, stop and let this inspire you. There's something called extreme ironing, where people will literally will iron their clothes in the middle of the woods underwater, hanging off a boat. I'm dead serious. It's an entire sport around ironing clothes and they've built a legitimate niche where people go on world tours doing it. If they can find a group of people to do that, you better believe if your music is good enough, you should be able to get people to pay some money, drive downtown and go to your show.


Hi guys, welcome to a new video. Today's video is going to be celebration themed because I convinced my mom over here to go to celebration with me. There's Sherry. Hi. And I'm going to film all of the restaurants and kind of explain and show you guys the menu of what they have to offer. I'm really excited because this is one of my video ideas that I had about celebration. If you haven't seen my previous celebration. Yeah, I know we did try. It was too rainy. Yeah. So if you haven't seen my previous celebration video, I will link that down below. So you guys can watch it. It was all about my experience of living and growing up in Disney's perfect town known as Celebration Florida. But before that, we are going to send the giveaway winner the Apple Watch. I'm so excited. It is Monday, so she should get it like fairly soon because it's a weekday. We're going to ship that out and then we're going to head to celebration. If you aren't already, please subscribe. I do a lot of giveaways. I'm currently having a back to school giveaway. So if you want to go enter that, go ahead and do so. And I'm looking forward to doing more giveaways in the future. So make sure you are subscribed and hit the little bell. Ready, Sherry? I'm ready. Let's go. We are here, we are here. And this is where we always park when we come to celebration, this back lot. Our first stop is going to be the post office. Oh my gosh, this used to be a dance studio. You remember that? I don't know. Maybe you guys will also get a little like other facts and tidbits because Sherry and I are probably going to walk around here. This is a good photo option. Only I want to do a whole like best photo locations and celebration video. So thumbs up this video if you want that because I've done like about two photo shoots here and everything turned out really, really well. All of that is boarded up. Not boarded, but it all closed. Sherry just pointed that out. All right, look at this big rain cloud. Okay, I'm a little nervous, but we're going to go to the post office. All right, I just want to take a moment to appreciate how cute this little wrapping paper is. I'm so excited for Sophia to receive this. Okay, so we got the giveaway prize all shipped out. The first stop on our little tour here is the Sweet Escape Bakery. This isn't actually a restaurant, it's a bakery, but I just wanted to kind of show you guys what they have in there. It's kind of like baked goods and stuff. Oh gosh, well, this is entertaining. I'm gonna get too close. I'll take it all away if you get too close. Sherry thinks this is really entertaining watching these birds eat this. It kind of is. I'm just taking, I'm just taking a little movie. Yeah. So they have like cookies, donuts, bagels, croissants, all sorts of things in here. This place has been here for quite a while. It is one of the newer shops, but it is cute and it reminds us of Bakery's story. Guys, you can also get sandwiches. Oh, you can also get sandwiches. Okay, so this is a menu for their sweet deli. And they have like all sorts of different options. The next restaurant we've come to is called Taitani. And obviously it's Thai, so here's their little hours. I don't know if I'm like gonna go in and film. Should I go in and film? Is there a menu? Okay, well, this is like a little brief inside of Taitani. They're gonna change sides. Hi, I was just taking a little movie. Thank you. They have really good curry. They have really good curry. That's what she just said. They have very good curry. And kind of chicken curry, shrimp curry. It's really good. And now I think our next stop is the wine bar above the Wonderland cookie dough. Wonderland cookie dough. Oh my gosh, there's so many places here that I just don't know about. Okay, so we think Wonderland cookie dough has closed because it's not open. And it opens at noon, but you guys can kind of see in there. It's like cookies and ice cream, it looks like. Yeah, I've never actually been in this one, so that's why I overlooked it. Okay, soft as a grape is awesome, but we're not doing stores today. Our next stop is the Emporium food and wine. We just call this the wine bar. Here's the menu. They have like Caesar salads and stuff. So they have all sorts of different fun little appetizer things that people could get. And it's really relaxing to have a drink outside in the evening. Sherry and I did it once. It was awesome, a little pricey, but the environment is what makes it worth it. Here's a little peek inside the wine bar. Anyway, they have all these wines in their little cellar here and yeah, it's really chill in there. It's really nice. So these are the wines that they have. They just have so many choices, so obviously you're just gonna have to pause and read. That's the food side you've already seen. This is really cool, because they have all of this outdoor seating, as you guys can see. Now this place, I was in first grade and I used to love coming here. It's the cutest little restaurant. Are they open? I don't know. But it's not really like a sit down inside restaurant. They have some outdoor seating, which they've expanded on since I've lived here, but it's so cute. And this is what it looks like. They have pizza, wings, subs and salads. It's called Upper Crust. This has been here ever since we moved here. I'm so happy they're still open and their pieces of pizza are so big. I'm gonna open the door and see if I can get a little clip. Hi, just taking a little movie. So this is what it looks like. See it's like a little cute little restaurant area where you just pick up your pizza and everything. It still smells the exact same from when I was a kid. So that's pretty neat. Moving right along. This is also, I love how two of my favorite restaurants are still here and they're right next to each other. This is the Market Street Cafe. This window used to be a see-through, like you could see through it. I don't know why they blacked it out, but this Market Street Cafe has gone under so many changes of management. It's crazy. We used to have a plaque here. It doesn't look the same as it used to, obviously. It's still a little retro. It's still a little retro. I'm gonna go in. They actually changed the logo too. But, oh my gosh, they did a great job with this place. It looks great. I'm just taking a little movie. But yeah, this is definitely changed. So the old version, this used to be a waiting area. And then this side is where you used to check in. And there used to be plaques on the walls here with people's names. It's just really, really different. It's more modernized from when I lived here. It still has the same vibes. And they still have the bar stools here. And they still have the visible kitchen that you could see. Oh, sorry. Okay. All right. No, this is lady. She's like, you should ask before you film people. Whoa, number one lady, you're in a public place. You can't do- You weren't filming her. I wasn't filming her. I was just filming the area. I wanna get a picture here. But anyway, yeah, she was kind of rude.  Good thing I don't work in like service anymore or else like I would have to deal with that. The front of like that, the sign on the window. This is Market Street. No, cause you can't really see it. This is like the old fashioned one. Okay, so this is their outdoor seating. It's pretty much a little bit different. They just have like different tables and stuff. Dude, this makes me wanna go on like a rant and video. So I am actually going to probably make a video on like vlogging in public and stuff and like dealing with rude people like that. Cause dude, when you're in a public place, like there's cameras everywhere. Like I'm sure that like all these restaurants have cameras on people. But anyway, I'm not gonna film like people cause I don't wanna get yelled at again by like rude people. So this hasn't changed a bit since I've lived here. It looks exactly the same pretty much. This is the door.  But anyway, it's really dark and stuff. So this is like a cute little sign that they have. This is their menu. You can't really see it cause of the glare. They just have like a lot of burgers and seafood stuff and think of like a New Orleans, not New Orleans, New England. It's like a New England, Boston type of restaurant venue. This is like the outside bar and everything. So there's another side, but there's like a lot of people there cause you never know if like anyone's gonna bring out their claws. So anyway, this is like the bar area. And pretty much it looks the same on the other side. Of course, Starbucks, you gotta love it. This is actually where I took some of my footage from my outfits videos. Every cup is an adventure sign. This is where this mural is. It's at the Starbucks in celebration. If anyone was curious, again, I wanna do a photo location video. So this is the Starbucks. This is the outdoor seating area. And the inside is like any other Starbucks with their merch. So I don't think I'm gonna go in there. Do you think we need to go into Starbucks, Sherry? She's probably hungry. That's why she's discouraging. I know it's the same as all the other Starbucks. Yeah, it's not that fancy. This used to be Sherlock's. This used to be a bar. It's been a couple of things ever since then. We don't really know what it is, but it looks like it's a Mexican grill. So they have outdoor seating here. My Aunt Wendy would love that if she watches this video. But this used to be Sherlock's when I was a kid and all the adults loved to hang out here and drink and stuff. That was before the wine bar was a thing. So it's called avocado Mexican grill. Very interesting. Avocado Mexican grill. Yeah. Here's a better view of their menu. If you wanna pause and read that. Sorry about the really bad angle. But yeah, I just wanna just kinda show you the stuff that I remember as a kid. And definitely this outdoor seating area is definitely one of the most significant. They have a little area in there. It's not that big. Okay, now we're going to the other side. This was like, if you're looking at Main Street, we were coming down the right side. We're gonna now go down the left side. This is the side that the bakery was on. I don't know why we like cross the street. But we're going to, this restaurant called Di Antonio. Okay, so this is the restaurant Di Antonio Cafe and it's Italian. They just have like a lot of pastas and stuff. It's like an old fashion type of restaurant. It's very fancy, not very fancy, but like it's one of the nicer restaurants. So, oh it's still like the specials. Yeah. It looks like the specials. Our operation. See they have like a dinner menu. It's like two-sided. This is doing a really bad job of capturing the items. I'm sorry. And then here's the lunch menu. There's two like lunch menus that they have here. This was like not covered. This is all like new and built. It used to be like an outdoor seating. Kind of like the Asian restaurant. We were here on vacation from Ohio and my dentist said, oh, have you ever been over to celebration? And we said, no. And he said, oh, they have a great Italian restaurant over there. It's a Disney developed community. You guys should go over and check it out. You're such Disney nuts. So we were here, we happened to have a car because it was right after 9-11 and we decided to drive down instead of fly. So we came down, we looked around, went through some model homes and see what it was like here. And we came to D'Antonio's to have lunch and we sat at this very end table down here. She said that this is probably this table here. We sat at that table and we looked out at this beautiful lake and the beautiful hotel, the walkway downtown area and said, why do we live in Ohio? So we started looking around and we went to more model homes trying to figure out how we could move here and we bought a house while we were here. We picked out a house and a lot. We ended up getting a different house and a lot later on but that was in December and by the next July, we were in celebration. And that's a story of how we decided to move here. It is, it all has to do with D'Antonio and my dentist. Okay, so this is the next restaurant we're coming up to. This has gone through so many names. It's Japanese cuisine. This is the menu for the Japanese plays. Sorry, I kind of went fast but you can kind of see they have many options. These are always really good. The bento boxes, salad and California roll and rice you could get chicken, salmon steak, whatever you wanted with it, it was really good. So I guess it's called Ari now. So this is the restaurant. I, okay, a funny story. This is like a funny story time about this restaurant, Sherry. I was here with one of my friends and my parents. All of us went out to eat and I tried to swallow a whole ice cube and I almost choked. Is that a funny story? Okay, well anyway, I think it's funny because like that's like my biggest memory of this restaurant is like choking on an ice cube when I was young. It's gone through so much management changes that it's just been, it has a totally new name. I have no idea what it is, but if you like Japanese food, you could head over there. This, my friends, is a macaroon store. It's called Le Macaroon. And this used to be a Hello Kitty store. Ooh, this is aesthetic. I really like this place. Hi. But yeah, this is like a really cool area. I don't really know much about it. That used to be a Hello Kitty store. This is a Wolfgang Bakery. Show the little sign here. This is a Wolfgang Bakery. It's really popular for people and their dogs to come. And that's actually been here for a while. Wolfgang has been here for a while. And now we're coming up to Killins. Here's Killins. And this is an ice cream shop. It used to be something else, right? Yeah, it did. What was it called? I don't remember. For those Killins, I don't really know what it used to be, but yeah, it was a lot bigger. And it also served lunch. See, like back there, it used to be seating area for when after people got their ice cream. So it's taking a sit there and order lunch, too. Yup, but now it's all different. The outdoor seating area has not changed one bit. It still looks the same, actually. And we're coming up on the movie theater. That's not a movie theater anymore. I might make a video about this, but there's not much to say about it. This used to be an AMC, and then I guess people stopped going to the movies. I think I've seen a few movies here. We have. We used to see movies here all the time. Yeah. But it's very small. There's only two theaters. Yup. And AMC still owns the building. Yup. Or leases it, whatever. And it was probably a competition for Disney Springs AMC. So they closed it. Yup. We're coming up on a restaurant here, which I am not too familiar with. Are you? Well, it's the Columbia restaurant. It's the Columbia. The main Columbia restaurant is in Irving City, Limer City, something by Tampa, the original one. This is another one. This is a Cuban restaurant. And didn't Feller get like food poisoning or something from here? No, this is just where we were when she started getting sick after our Disney. Everybody got sick at Thanksgiving. Right. I remember that, because we had dinner here with some other people, once with some friends. We had the best white sangria here. White sangria. White sangria. They have a 1905 salad. That's really good. 1905 salad. Cool. So it is a really good restaurant. Again, I'm not going to go in because it's kind of like a sit down. And I don't even know if they're open yet. But this is their outdoor seating. It's pretty well known in celebration. This is pretty much what it looks like. It has some nice hedges. Looks like this. You can kind of see inside. Again, it's kind of like the Italian restaurant where there's, you know, it's kind of fancy with the white tablecloths and stuff. So we decided to come to Market Street Cafe for, well, Market Street, what do they call this diner? But we still call it Market Street Cafe because that's what it used to be known as. This is where the lady yelled at me for filming. But we decided to come here for lunch. It's always super good. This used to be like where plaques were. And they just have made it like really more modern. All right, Sherry? All right, so Sherry over here got an omelet. I got a side of fries. Their fries are some of the best fries ever here. And I got a Caesar salad with shrimp. I forgot to ask with no Parmesan, so that's on me. I used to get a hot dog here, but I upgraded. Oh, Sherry.  Okay, guys, so that is going to be it for this video I covered. I believe everything dealing with food in celebration Florida. If you have any other questions or want more details, leave it in the comments down below. Give this video a thumbs up for more celebration videos. Don't forget to subscribe and I'll see you guys in my next video. Bye. I'll get seven. There it is. You want to say bye? Bye.