Adventure, August 1917 — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Northwoman countenance of the young missionary in the lamplight. The fire was gone from his eyes, the determined lines from his face. He appeared to be utterly crushed, but only Mrs. Knox read-aright the cause of it all. She knew it was not the problem of the Indians, not his temporary defeat, but a realization of what the presence of Searles at the mission really meant. To the older woman it was unmistakable, the change that had come to Joan. Her first glance at the girl when she entered the room with the two men told the story. She knew more of Stanton than men realize that women know and she knew that he, too, had read the signs in the girl’s eyes, that he had been crushed by what he had found there, not by what might have hap- pened in the seven days of his absence. ‘““You poor boy,” said Mrs. Knox as she set a cold supper on the table. “And you got nothing from the Indians?”’ “Not a thing. I took the murderer straight to the chief’s wigwam and ex- plained the whole thing. I told them the time had come for them to do something, that this could not go on any longer. I told them I would have the police in and arrest every one of them, as much as I hated to do it, but they didn’t even answer. They sent two men after the squaw’s body and the next day they buried her. I officiated at the funeral, and everything I said was with the one point in view—a confession. “But it didn’t come despite all that I could do. I argued, I threatened, I ap- pealed to every good instinct that has been in them. I appealed to their love of my father, but nothing touched them, nothing.”’ ‘“‘And they never weakened once?” asked Mrs. Knox. “Only once. That was the night I left here. The chief and several of the older men said they would hold a conference and tell me in the morning. realized the gravity of the situation-and I believed that they would act favorably. “I was tired, after that shaking up I got on the beach, and I went to bed in the chief’s wigwam. But I couldn’t sleep. I got up and sat outside. After a while I saw a canoe come out of the darkness on the lake and stop at the beach. A man got out and walked across to where the Indians were in the council wigwam. After five minutes he came back, got into the canoe and paddled away. They said they ‘“‘When it was too late I realized what that might have meant. I ran down, tum- bled into the first canoe I found and started after him. But I couldn’t even learn which way he went. If I had only been awake, only been clever enough, I would have ended everything right there. That man brought a message, and it must have been a powerful one because it changed the atti- tude of the chief and of all the old men. I feel confident the chief was in favor of tell- ing me. But the next morning he would not even discuss the decision that they are to remain silent.”’ “But Stan, it can’t go on this way!” ex- claimed Joan. Bancroft looked at her and smiled wearily. “It is going on, Joan,” he answered. “I have done all I can to stop it. I have seen the whole tribe drop from prosperity to poverty, from self-respect to degradation, and I have been powerless to stop it. All my father’s work and devotion is being wiped out in a few short months. In a few more, every trace of it will be gone.” “But something has got to be done!”’ ‘‘What?” he asked dispiritedly. No one answered. None even looked at the young missionary as, head bowed, he sat at the table. The defeat of a strong man is never a pleasant sight, and because this man, who, they knew, was strong, ad- mitted defeat, the spectacle was all the more heart-rending to the two women who knew him best. The silence was broken by a light foot on the step and then a gentle knock. “Come,” called Mrs. Knox. The sound of moccasined feet crossing the big living-room came to them and the next instant Frank, Wallace’s guide, stood in the door. He looked quickly about the dining-room and then handed a yellow en- velope toward his employer. Wallace grasped it eagerly. ‘“You’ll pardon me,” he said excitedly as he tore open one end and took out a sheet of paper. He read it quickly, and as he read a smile lighted his face, a smile that grew as he glanced up at Joan. There was triumph in it, and, for the girl, something more than triumph. | “You at least have good news,” said Stanton with just a trace of bitterness. “Tt is welcome,”’ answered Searles quietly, CoOMmiclsoo CO S|