University of Missouri College of Engineering - Shamrock Yearbook (Columbia, MO)

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spoken in a quiet voice, and LeWiS sat with scarcely a breath and a heart that at times had risen in his throat to choke him. In his hand Justice Given held the pages of the letter he had read. Now he went on: So I'm going to tell it all to you, Lewis-because I know that you are a man. Mary has left nothing out. She has told me of your love, and of the reward that she has promised you-if I send back the word. She says frankly that she does not love you, but that she honors you above all men-except her father and one other-and that other- that other is myself. Years ago the woman that you love-was my wife. Her name was not Givenf' he went on, and a smile fought grimly on his lips. That's one thing that I will not tell you, my name. The story itself will be enough. p Perhaps there were two other people in the world that were happier than we two. I doubt it. I I got into a deal. I made an enemy, a deadly enemy. He was a blackmailer and a thief and the head of a political ring that lived on graft. Through my efforts he Was ex- posed. And then he laid for me-and he got me. I must give him credit for doing it so cleverly. He set a trap for me and a woman helped him. The trap sprung and got me. 'Even my wife would not believe me and the papers could End no excuse for me. I have never blamed her for getting a divorce, On the day the divorce was given her, my brain went bad. The World turned red and then black and red again. I went to his oiiice. I gave him a change to confess and redeem himself. He laughed at me, exulted at my fall. And so-I g ml? A killed him. And then in his office, With his dead body at my feet, I wrote a ,note to Mary. I told her what I had done and told her again of my innocence. I wrote her some day that she might hear from me under the name that I now bear, as the law would always be Watching for me. She has kept my secret, while the law has hunted for me. And thisi- He held the letter out to Lewis. Take it-go outside and read it. I want to think, and then come back in a half hour. Back of the cabin George read the let- teri and at timeshis soul seemed as if it were being smothered and at others it seemed to quiver with 'a strange joy. For nearly seven years she had known of the innocence of her husband. The woman-the dead man's tool-con- fessed. And during that time Mary had traveled over the world seeking him- the man who bore the name-Justice Given. Each night she had prayed God that the next day she might End him, and now her prayer had been answered, she begged that she might come to him, and share with him for all time a life away from the world they knew. The woman breathed like life in the pages that he read, yet with that won- derful message to Justice Given she pil- loried herself for those red and insane hours in which she had lost faith in him. She had no excuse for herself, ex- cept her great love, she crucified her- self as she held out her arms to him across that two thousand miles of deso- lation. She had written of the great PFICC She was offering for this one Chance of life and happiness. She told him of his friend's love, and the reward she had offered him should Justice 'l tl

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so cold that he paused frequently and built small fires, over which he filled his lungs with hot air and smoke. He knew what it meant to have the lungs touched It was the morning of the sixth day when he reached the thick fringe of spruce that sheltered Given's cabin. He was half blinded. The snow-filled bliz- zards had cut his face until it was swol- len and purple. Twenty paces from the cabin he stopped, and stared, and rubbed his eyes again-as though that he were not quite sure that his eyes were not playing him a trick. A cry broke from his lips then. Over the door there was nailed auslender sap- ling, and at the end of that sapling there floated a tattered, wind-beaten rag. It was the signal. It was the one common voice to all of the wilderness-a warn- ing to man, woman and child, white or red, that came down through the cen- turies. justice Given was down with the small-pox! For a few moments the discovery stunned him. Then he was filled with a chill, creeping horror. Given was sick with the scourge. Perhaps he was dy- ing. It might be-that he was dead. In spite of the terror of the thing ahead of him, he thought of Mary. If Given was deadi! 'Above the low moaning of the Wind in the tops of the trees he cursed him- self. He had thought a crime, and he clenched his mittened hands as he stared at the one window of the cabin. His eyes shifted upward. In the air was a hlmy, floating gray. It was smoke coming from the chimney. Given was not dead. Something kept him from shouting Given's name,'that he might Twen ty-Three ' 5l Q g S' r iq 2 WEE . come to the door. He went to the win- dow and looked in. For a few moments he could see nothing. And, then, dimly, he made out the cot against the wall. On that cot sat the man that was his friend and the man that held his happi- ness in his Words. With a quick breath George turned to the door, opened it, and walked in. Justice Given staggered to his feet as the door opened. His eyes were wild and filled with fever. You-Lewis! he cried huskily. My God, didn't you see the flag? Yes George's half-frozen features were smiling, and now he was holding out a hand from which he had drawn his mit- ten. Lucky I happened along just now, old man. You've got it, eh? Q Given shrank back from the offered hand. There's time, he cried, point- ing to the door. Don't breathe this air. Get out. I'm not bad yet-but it's the small-poxf' I know it, said George, beginning to throw off hood and coat. I'm not afraid of it. I had a touch of it three years ago, so I guess that I am immune. Besides, I have come two thousand miles to see you-Justice Given-two thousand miles to see you, and bring a letter from Mary Courtleyf, For a few seconds Given stood tense and motionless. Then he swayed for- ward. A letter for me-from Mary? he gasped, and held out his hands. An hour later they sat facing each other. The beginning of the disease be- trayed itself in the red Hush of Given's face, and the fever in his eyes. But he was calm. For many minutes he had

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ity ' f ' A-:-xfwf Given find that in his heart love had died for her. Twice he read that mes- sage and he envied the man. The thirty minutes were gone when he re-entered the cabin. Given was waiting for him. Have you read it? Lewis nodded. In those moments he did not trust himself to speak. Given understood. The Hush was deeper in his face, his eyesburned brighter with the feverg but of the two he was the calmerg and his voice was steady. I haven't much time, Lewis, he said, and he smiled faintly as he folded the pages of the letter. My head is crack- ing. B,ut I have thought it all out, and you have got to go back to her-and tell her that I am dead. It's the best thing. I love her, Lewis. God knows that it's been only my dreams of her that have kept me alive all these years. She wants me to come to her, but that's impossible. I'm an outlaw. The law won't excuse me for killing that thing. We'd have to hide-hide all of our lives. And some day they might get me. There's just one thing to do and that is go back and tell her that I am deadg and try to make her happy, if you can. For the first time George forgot his lbve for the woman. And he cried out, She wants to come to you, and he leaned towards Given, white-faced and clenching his hands. She wants to comef' he repeated, and the law won't find you. It's been seven ,years-and God knows that I will never say a word. It won't find you. And if it should, you can iight it out together, you and Mary. Given held out his hands, saying huskily, Now I know that I need have no fear in sending you back. You're a T enty-Five man, and you've got to go. She can't come to me. It would'kill her this life. Think of the winter here-madness- the yapping of, the foxes-- Given swayed and crumpled up on his cot. For many days he and Given fought the red death in the little cabin. It was a iight that he could never forget. One afternoon, to strengthen himself for the terrible night that was coming, he walked several milestback into the forest on his snowshoes. It was late afternoon when he returned with a haunch of caribou meat on his shoulder. Three hundred yards from the cabin something stopped him like a shot. He listened. From, ahead of him came the whining of dogs, the crack of a whip, a shout which he could not understand. He dropped his burden and sped on. At the south edge of the level he stopped again. Straight ahead of him was the cabin. A 'hundred yards to the right of him was a dog team and a driver. Be- tween the team and the cabin a hooded and coated figure was running in the di- rection of the danger signal. With a cry of warning he darted in pursuit. He overtook the figure at the cabin door. It turned-and he stared into the white, terror-stricken face of Mary Courtley. E Good God! he cried and that was all. ' She gripped him with both hands. H?e had never heard her voice as it was now. She answered the amazement and horror in his face. I sent you a letter, she cried, pant- ingly, and it didn't overtake you. ' As soon as 'you were gone, I knew that I must come-that' I must follow you- that I must speak the words that I had