The Place Beyond the Winds

et her house in order and prepared for a new career. The bar, cleansed and altered, became her private apartment. With the cou

drinking there's no crime in serving my kind. Come summer I'll open my doors to tourists and keep the kind of house a woman-and a God-bepraised widow

d woman you ar

back of the pasture lot I seem to know that I must do the work of

Adam." The manners of her t

t, Mary, if the heart o

own that year, and Anton Farwell breathed easier and s

nce was, Ledyard had all but slai

he was grateful for semi-invalidism. Previous to Ledyard's recognition of him he had sunk to a monotonous indifference, waiting, he realized now, for the time when he might safely shake off his disguise and slip away to what was once his own. Now, with his exit from Kenmore barred, he found that he no longer could r

drawn at night, he drew, with pencil and paper, plans of escape. He must choose a calm spell after a storm; he would take his launch, with a rowboat behind, to the Fox Portage. He'd set his launch free

s, toss them on the coals, and laugh bitterly

have to buy clothes and provisions for the winter-he always made a pilgrimage about this time. There would be a letter from Boswell, too. There always was one in September

at, which happened just then to be tied

rs. McAdam from her doorway. "God keep you, Mr

Farwel

wish to hurry back, and a brace of dogs, keen on sce

and if their staying behind brings you quicker home

me down to the boat and

thought of anything happening to you grieves the heart of me. In all Kenmore there's no one as I lean on like you. There be nights when I look ou

to laugh, to scoff, would have driven him to supernatural

dam. Thank you. I'll take your wor

all day, had played like a boy, often retracing his steps, carefully using the same footprints, and laug

empted a snatch of rollicking song, then, rolling hims

ising himself on his elbow, looked keenly about. The appearance of the fire puzzled him. It looked as if fresh wood had bee

and for her, with her sudden-born determination to rise above the squalor of her early youth, it would be a serious problem. Boswell told him so little. He could count on his fingers the few sharp facts his friend had given him with the promise that if conditions changed he should know, but i

accepting less and less because she was winning her way to independence in an honourable line. S

sed these facts for comfort's sake. Suppose he made an escap

he squares of metal it shone like an angel's. Fair, pitiful, wonder-filled eyes, and quivering mouth. All day the picture haunted him and seemed to draw h

checked by iron bars would not fade, and in the red glow of the flames it began to l

managed to create, returned to him. He

pair had been his comrades and bedfellows, but he rarely indulged in calm consideration. Smoking his pipe, stret

ws they have it all in their power once the key is turned on us. I deserved all th

little common sense; then the fling in the open with every emotion and desire uncurbed. Well, he had to learn his lesson and God knew he had; but why, i

and Farwell shook the ashes from

e else on earth. That was what his past had done for him. The truth of this sank into the lonely man's soul with sickening finality. And as he realized it, and compared it with the fact of his youth, he groaned. What an infernal fool he had been! What fools all such fellows wer

ney, so he made the fire safe, lay down beside it, and s

es that he took by surprise a man crouching by the fire as if stealing a bit of wa

ered, grinned sheepishly; he was loathing him

ire? me hel

ht and courage gone from his face. It was the ol

g?" he asked, thoug

Pine go! Pine-good f

ter, long waiting him, read all the papers he could lay hands on, and then set his face toward Kenmore. And th

He fiddled for her and fed the flame of her imagination. She was the sunniest creature he had ever known; the bleak life of Lonely Farm had spurred her to greater lengths of self-defence; nothing could daunt her. She had an absorbing curiosity about lif

most trying circumstances. Farwell told her of plays, operas, and, over his deal table, they chatted in brilliant restaurants. They walked gay streets and stood bewildered before fla

proudly thoug

a litany, while life became more and more vital and th

day suit on week days, thus proclaiming his aspiratio

d, on a certain afternoon in midwinter, when she, Long Jean, and Mary McAdam sat

poor these da

over her cup

was, eh? What you make of it, Jea

Adam br

e was when the young 'uns happened; they're thought more on, these days. Women should have

replied merely by two audible gulps of tea,

u be an ornament to your sex, but only such women as you can

s me, be?" Long Jean mutter

ctfully turned

Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" she asked wit

welcome," Mrs. McAdam retorted. "Hav

u might just as well take water. When I'm on duty I keep a pot on t

to the outstretched cup and p

nd find himself instead of worrying old J

t the lad's deep and far seeing like his Injun mother-b

our face, Mrs.

sent, but the explan

stir the dregs a mite, Mrs. McAdam; it's pl

n, monotonously stirring the cold liquid in he

dients were prepa

y-Jo McAlpin?" Mrs. McAdam asked sharply, f

dled again an

r. He's a handsome lad and will get a footing some day. Glenn's girl ain't none too good for him; he'd bring her to her senses. All that dancing and fiddle-scraping at Master Farwell's is not to my liking. Th

ty taking in her ways. I wish her no ill, and I hate to think of Jerry-Jo shadowing her life till she forgets to dance and sin

ly. "Another cup of the tea, Mary Terhune, and make

could not settle to any task or give heed to any temptation from the States until he had made Priscilla secure. The girl's age in no wise daunted McAlpin. His eighteen years were all that wer

was his friend and had taught him all he knew, but Farwell's age did not in the least blind Jerry-Jo to the fact that he was a man,

does it for me. The master's just training her away from me and putting notions in her head. I'll take her to the S

eck and compelled him to adopt more modern tactics. He stole, when he couldn't beg, from his poor father all the money Jerry wrenched from an occasional day's work. With this he bought books for Priscilla, vaguely realizing that these would most interest her, but his selection often made her laugh. Piqued by her indifference, Jerry-Jo plotted a thing that led, later,

at random, but with economy, books from the well-filled shelves. These gifts presently found their way to Priscilla, cunningl

me this?" she asked Jerry-Jo, wh

s, I suppose, and wants you to have it. He said it was more yo

d into Jerry-Jo's distorted imagination a concrete and lasting jealousy of poor Dick Travers, who was innocent of any actual memory of Pris

had to keep them secret owing to her father's sentiment, and, for some reason, she did not confide in Farwell. This new and unex

o him. Do you think you could find out for me where he is? That he should e

rm from Kenmore as she spoke, and suddenly something t

ing up in the woods that day he

avers as an old tribeman might have used torture, to test his own bravery and endurance,

e-woods?"

e your father d

la stared helplessly, the

that he who made me dance-wa

not know it!" J

ugly past all belief, while he who played and laughed that day

dark face was not p

ight?" he muttered; "can't a devil

gs I had always thought and dreamed about-an ideal was what he called it! And to think I never knew! And he remembered and wanted to be kind! I shall worship him now while I liv

the most tormenting in Jerry-Jo's. They were both at ages when such an oc

many summers, and only once during the following

's been reduced to his level. There are not girls enough to go around up there, I fancy. That little thing, though, was too spiritual to be crushed and remodelled. As she danced that day, her scarlet cape flying out in the breeze, she looked like a living flame darting up f

he reality of Priscilla leaving the In-Place, and in time even the memory of h

time upon the middle name) hung out his modest sign-it looked brazenly glaring to him-under that of Thomas R. Ledyard, and nervously awaited the first call upon him. He was twenty-five when he started life, and Priscilla Glenn, back in forgotten Kenmore, was

k of his eyes, too, has the queer flash of them as sees forward as well as back. Do you mind, Mrs. McAdam, how 't

e same," nodde

rt, as men go. He's kept the children out of trouble far more than one could expect, and he's been a merci

med to end t

s of tourist. Mary was a born proprietress, and, while she extracted the last penny due her, always gave full value in return. She and Mary Terhune did the cooking; a bevy of clean, y

-going people, the laughter and merriment appealed strongly to her, and again did

his warning, and Theodora re