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HEART

OF THE

NORTH

WILLIAM
BYRON
. MOWERY

(WNU Service)
Copyright by William Byron Mewery

_ CHAPTER VI.—Continued.

“To buy it? You making a trip?
~Go ahead, take it and use it, Alan.”

“But I’m not bringing it back. I’m
leaving this country in it. How
mouch?"

Drummond was all tangled in
Alan's swift words. “That canoe isn’t
worth a lot... . . You're leaving
this country. . . . . The motor cost
me a hundred but it's three years old.
~ - . . You're not bringing it back?
» . . . I guess fifty dollars, Alan.
But what in the name of sin—?”

Alan gave him the fifty and strode
out the door,

Down the terrace at the steamer
fending, Joyce was waiting for him,
@s he had asked her. Laying his pack
fm Drummond's canoe and untying
the painter, Alan stood holding it, hat

in hand, for a few last words with
Joyce.

He said slowly, lengthening these
last moments with her: “Joyce, I'm
going away. I'm going after those six
men. Bill will tell you something
about it. I arranged with him to vis-
it you whenever he can, and old Dad
Pence is going back to the Alooska
to be company for you.”

Though she asked no questions
abut his trip, her dark eyes were big
with wonder. Alan was tempted to
tell her all. He could depend on her
not to breathe one word of it. A
score of times he had confided police
secrets to her and she had given him
Invaluable information gleaned from

- Indians and breeds,

But his plan was a desperate gam- |

ble, and Joyce would surely recognize
ft as such, She might lose faith in

[rn be entirely out of the country,
out of it for weeks and weeks. She
mustn't know that; she'd feel too ter-
| ribly alone; she might even come to
| believe I’ve deserted her, as I did last
|winter. But if she thinks I'm still
‘here on the Waterways, perhaps
porns) secretly, it'll help her keep
up hope.”

“Joyce,’ he instructed her, “I’d like
for you, there at the trading post, to
| question these Indians and metis when
| they bring in poultry. You might pick
|up pone information about those six
| men.’
be “I'll do it, Alan, And if there's
| anything else, to help you—’
| “There isn't except to keep your
| courage up and be careful of yourself.
Joyce, if you'll promise to take care
of yourself there on the Alooska, I'll
go away feeling a mighty lot hap-
pier. I'll be worrying about you.”

“Tl get along, Alan,’ she said sim-
ply.

As she gave him her hand, wishing

him good fortune on his venture, Alan
had a vision of the lonely, fear-torn
weeks ahead of Joyce. He was all
Sympathy and tenderness for her—so
brave a girl, so loyal to her dad, so
spirited and pretty.
_ He was shaken with the temptation
to tell Joyce of the secret and pow-
erful circumstances which had torn
him away from her and made inevit-
able his engagement to Elizabeth. He
had done Joyce a wrong; he owed her
a confession and an explanation of
his motive. But there were reasons
that kept him silent. He had fought
that fight in his own conscience; he
had acted deliberately, To tell Joyce
of it now would avail nothing. He felt
that Joyce, however much she had
loved him once, had gone back to a
casual friendship with him now, and
a resurrection of their intimacy
would be painful to them both.

With a handelasp, a final word of
cheer about her father, he stepped
into the motor canoe, started the en-
gine, headed the boat out from the
shore, Looking back, he watched
Joyce's slender figure grown more and
more wraith-like in the mist until his
eyes no longer could see her.

Over at the MacMillan trading post
Joyce was awaiting a visit from Bill
Hardsock. A young Loucheux, John
Tabanask, had brought a note from
Bill, saying he would be along some
time late this evening.

so dubious a venture. And he thought:

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This last week had been a feverish-
ly busy one for her, With no hesita-
tion she was sacrificing the entire
trading stock. Word of her good bar-
gains had gone out by moccasin tele-
graph, and the peltry was rolling in
beyond all her expectations. Her days
were from twenty to twenty-four
hours long. Hasty meals for herself
and old’Dad Pence. Sleep in broken
bits when she could snatch an hour
or so. Sorting and grading furs as
expertly as any man. It was work for
any two men, and she was doing it
Jone-handed, earning the fur-dollars to
fight her dad's battle.

Faithfully carrying out Alan's in-
structions, she had done a bit of de-
tective work on her own account. But

she failed to gleam the slightest hint |

of information.

‘The mystery of the bandits’ sudden
appearance engrossed her, as it had}
Alan; and w:th good-reason it made
her keenly uneasy. Those men were
hiding in the Thal-Azzah, not many
hours distant. Knowing in her heart
that her father was innocent, she be-
lieved that they had put that fateful
pack of furs in the shed because of
some animus against him. Their hos-
tility might extend to her, his daugh-
ter; and they might make some at-
tempt against her. There were times,
When she thought of those vicious
brutal criminals so near her, that she
wanted to flee back to the safety of
the post and the mothering of Mrs.
Drummond.

r
It Was Work for Any Two Men and
She Was Doing It.

Before she left Endurance, Bill had |

told her that Alan had bought out
and had severed relations with the
Force for good and all. That was the
news which Joyce had been brooding
about. Elizabeth had wanted him to
get out of service. He was out now.
Elizabeth had wanted him to take
that Victoria job. He probably would
take it now. Elizabeth had had her
way with him. The thing which had
held her and Alan apart no longer
existed,

For more than a year Joyce had
seen Alan Baker slipping away from
her, little by little. She had fought
for her secret hopes as one will fight
in the face of death. She wanted
Alan! her days were like a passion-
ate cry for him. He was the meaning
and purpose of life to her, and she
could no longer bear up under her
racking doubt. She, too, had come to
the parting of the ways, and must
take some irrevocable step.

In the twilight she heard the drone
of Bill's motor canoe down the Aloos-
ka. When the craft swung around a
bend, she stood up and waved, Catch-
ing sight of her on the jutting rock, |
Bill glided in alongside.

He held a warm place in her heart.
He had a man’s stubborn will power,
he was honest and open as daylight,
he was loyal clean through. Joyce
knew that Bill loved her, in a dogged
hopeless way, asking nothing more
than to do favors for her and be al-
ways dependable when she needed
some one. She was sorry for him,
terribly sorry he loved her. For his
sake she had several times rebuffed
him; but it hurt Bill so visibly that
she had stopped.

She invited him: “Bill, let's go up|”

to the post. You're tired. And I'll get
you a bite to eat.”

“I can't Joyce,” he reluctantly re-
fused, “I've got to light out for En-
durance. I just wanted to drop past
and see that everything is all right

with you. Hbw’ve you been making
out?"
“Better than I even expected. I've
taken in an awful lot of furs.”
“That's good. But I mean, any

trouble with these 'breeds or Smok-
fes?” He spoke rather belligerently
toward a hypothetical enemy of hers.

“Not the slightest bit,” Joyce as-
sured him. That was not exact
true; a couple of incidents of the last
week had been a little ugly. But she
felt she could guard herself against
those cowardly men.

She asked rather hesitantly, “Has

anything happened at Fort Endur-

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ance, Bill?” She was thinking of
Elizabeth waiting there, and that
beating question crowded out even
|her father's trouble. It took an ef-
| fort to speak of it. Bill knew more of
Alan's plans than she did. He might
know the answer to that question.

He said: “No, nothing much has
happened. I moved up to Alan's cabin
Haskell has made Whipple a corporal
Imagine that! The new doctor for
Hershel! Island came past on his way
down north, and looked at Larry. He
couldn't do any more than Father
Claverly has done. Larry’s getting
some strength back, and that chest
wound is past the danger point; but
his leg is all busted. The doctor said
Larry ‘ud be permanently crippled.
No hope of anything better.”

“Have they sent — Is Dad still
there?”

“Yes, We can't spare a man to
take him out. He'll be there a week
or ten days yet.”

“You'll tell him about my good luck
here, Bill? And tell him I'll be with
him as soon as I close out this post?”

Bill nodded. Personally he hoped
that this news might lift Daye Mac-
Millan out of his despondency. Dave's

iety. Resenting any kindness, he had
sunk into sullen mood, uncaring,
hopeless—a man brooding self-de-
struction.

Joyce forced herself to ask, ‘Have
you heard anything at all of Alan,
Bill?”

“No, not a word. I don't expect to
for some time.”

“You must know where he {is and
what he’s doing... . .”

Bill realized she was asking him to
tell her of Alan's venture. He wanted
to tell her; and he knew he could
trust her, but Alan had asked him not
to let her know where he'd gone, and
| Alan might have personal reasons for
it.

He lied: “No, I don’t know.
just be guessing.”

“But he’s coming back, sometime,
to Endurance?” Joyce persisted.

“He may come back and may not.
But not to stay. He's out of service,
broke away complete. He turned his
cabin and things over to me. He isn’t
intending to come back. I know
definite. He’s going to take that job
in Victoria. Told me. One of the last
things he said.”

‘There was a moment's silence. Bill
looked at Joyce curiously. She was
staring down at the rock, plucking
with trembling fingers at the wolf-
foot moss, she was pale. “Did Alan
say—" the words came slowly, like
reluctant footsteps—"say anything
about when he'll get married?”

“He didn't exactly say when, but
it'll be as soon as he’s carried through
this scheme of his.”

(To Be Continued).

Id

Australia Bans Flying
Over Dangerous Areas

Defence Ministry Objects To Expense
Of Rescue Expedtions

Indiscriminate flying over danger-
ous areas, particularly the desert re-
gions of Australia, has been prohibited
by the defence ministry. The defence
department has been put to heavy
expense and military aviators have
risked their lives in rescues in the
wilderness.

In the future airmen and their pas-
gengers must guarantee the cost of
ny rescue expeditigns necessary and
their ‘plane must be certified as suit-

able.

Probably Means Opposite
But Policy Of US, Paper Hardly
Seems Consistent
Contributors to Mr, Hearst's morn-
ing paper opposite editorial page,
which editorlal page sizzles almost
daily with a “Buy American” editor-
fal, are G. K. Chesterton, London;
Rebecca West, London; Aldous Hux-

| ley, London}; Bruno Lessing, St.
| Cloud; Havelock Ellis, London; Gug-
|lelmo Ferrero, Geneva; V. Sackville-

West, London; B. V, Lucas, London,
and Bertrand Russell, London, Still,
maybe opposite editorial page means
opposite editorlal—New York Herald
Tribune,

Revonah

All Class “BY” Fairs Abolished In

Western Canada

All ‘
ished in western Canada and, in their
stead, regional fairs are to be held
this year. This information was
obtained from the Department of
Agriculture.

There is more in the announcement
than a mere change of name. The
department intends to convert the old
“B" class fairs into more of

class fairs have been abo

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ity contests, with all sections of the
country surrounding the locale of
such fairs competing for the prizes.

The new regional fairs will receive
a federal grant of $1,500 each, which
is the same as last year’s grants to
“B” class fairs, with an opportunity
of earning an additional $500 if cer-
tain condition are fulfilled. These con-
ditions haye to do with the setting up
of show classes with the control of

agements of all the fairs are fully
apprised of the conditions, having re-|
ceived letters from Ottawa dealing |
with them at length.

There are three fairs in Manitoba |
which will now be classed as region-
al, Dauphin, Carman and Portage la
Prairie. In Saskatchewan there are
seven, Estevan, Weyburn, Yorkton,
Melfort, Prince Albert, North Battle- |
ford and Lloydminster.

REQUEST

‘There {s one gift which I would eyer

re.
Shall crumble slowly in the last Yong

| of

leep.
rene lie, forgetting all of joy,
str
It is tien priceless dower on me con-

That makes me sometimes tremulous
with bliss.

The soul that finds the song in every
word,

The hidden mood in every light wind’s
kiss.

It clears the sight which, piercing

through dim ways,
Sees sudden beauty in the slanting

rain

Or on the wings of some bright bird
that strays

From shores exotic, and comes not

again.

This is the gift I ask, this golden
lower

Of sensing secret charm in every
hour,

The Land Of the Heather
“I'm tired of hearing about Scotch

South Africa than Scotland ever}
dreamed about. They have at least
300 varieties." This was one of the
aside comments on South African
vegetation made by Prof, F. B. Loyd,
McGill University botanist, who de-’
livered the Royal Canadian Institute
lecture in Convocation Hall in Tor-|
onto.

If going hatless doesn’t affect the
mind, as experts say, it just calls
attention to it,

entries and similar matters. The man-'

| Until this clay, now so replete with
state of mind was causing Bill anx-|

heather. There is more heather in

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Little Helps For This Week

“My times are in Thy hand.” —
Psalm 31.15.

“Every purpose of the Lord shall be
performed.”—Jeremiah 51:29.

I am so glad; It is such rest to know

es ul "yet order and appoint my
For throug so much I cannot under-

si
And would not choose, has been, and
yet may be,

Thou choosest, Thou
Thou, my Lord,
This is enough for me.

—Frances R. Havergal.
We must not be in a hurry to fix
and choose our own lot; we must
wait to be guided. We are led on like
| little children by a way that we know
| not. It is a vain thought to flee from
| the work that God appoints us, for
jthe sake of finding a greater bless-
ling for our souls; as if we could
choose for ourselves where we shall
jfind the fulness of the Divine Pres-
ence, instead of seeking it where
alone it is to be found, in loving
obedience.—George Eliot.

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