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Show Lamp in Vallev By Arthur Stringer F " VS-aaL -2a WK,U Service THE STORY SO FAR young mining engineer. Lander, working for the TrumbuU company, which U Hghting Coburn's claim. U engaged to lTumbul daughter. Lander, Carol, and an abandoned In-dlan In-dlan baby which his dog found, spend a INSTALLMENT V Carol Coburn. Alaska-born daughter oi a "bush rat" who died with an un-ertabllshed un-ertabllshed mining claim, returns North U tench Indian school. Aboard ship, ha Is annoyed by Eric (the Red) Eric-on Eric-on and Is rescued by Sidney Laniler. night In a truck wnen snowstorm traps them. But the next day Lander Is able to get them through. Miss Teetzel. head of the school, who resents Carol's youth, is shocked, and says so. Lander merely turned his back on the poker-splned Miss Teetzel. "Are you going to stand tor stuff like this?" he demanded, towering over me with a quick flame of indignation in-dignation lighting up his eyes. Behind me I could sense the last boat of hope burning up on the coast of desperation. I knew, when I spoke, that I was issuing an ultimatum. ulti-matum. "I don't intend to," I quietly announced. an-nounced. Miss Teetzel flounced out of the room. Lander, when we were alone, stood a little closer over me. "I got you into this," he said, "and it's up to me to get you out of it." I was conscious of his bigness as I let my gaze lock with his. My laughter, I'm afraid, was a little reckless. "There's nothing to be done about it," I told him. But deep in the ashes of disaster I could feel a small glow of happiness at the thought that he was there to lean on. "Why not come back with me?" he finally inquired. "What good would that do?" I said. Lander, after looking down at me for what must have been a full half- ror, that our tree was a tower of fire. I snatched one of the blankets draping the doors and tried to smother smoth-er the flames. But it was too late. The blanket took Are. Even my Santa Claus gown started to burn, and I tore it off in the nick of time. I knew, as I did so, just what would happen to that old tinderbox of a building if it ever got going. And I remembered there were six or seven helpless children up in the infirmary. Katie must have remembered the same thing, for she shouted for me to get up to those children while she got the milling and wailing schoolroom school-room group safely out of the building. build-ing. Even In .the outer hall the smoke was thick as I raced for the infirmary. infirm-ary. There I caught up a .wailing little redskin from the first bed, calling back for the others not to move as I ran for the door and hurried hur-ried down the stairs to the west-end door, where Miss Teetzel, unexpectedly unexpect-edly active and efficient, was commanding com-manding the bigger boys to clear out the building known as the Warehouse Ware-house and spread blankets on the floor. Then I raced back for my second patient The smoke was thicker along the " And Ruddy says we've got to carry on." I felt less at sea after Doctor Ruddock Rud-dock had me write to the Territorial Commissioner (following up, I discovered, dis-covered, a secret dispatch of his own) asking for a teacher's position posi-tion in the Matanuska Valley. When I heard, by that grapevine circuit which seems to operate in all frontier countries, that John Trumbull had visited the valley and that Barbara Trumbull had flown in to Anchorage, it seemed like echoes out of another world. Even when I heard that Lander had taken over the management of the Happy Day Mine and that he and Trumbull had fought a wordy battle on the open platform of Matanuska station, I failed to be as excited as when Katie told me that the little Indian girl from Iliamna, up in our improvised pest ward, wasn't going to die, after all. I kept waiting for my Commissioner's Commis-sioner's report. That report was neither prompt nor encouraging. It acknowledged they were in need of a teacher for Matanuska but that conditions were not suitable there for a young and inexperienced outsider. I wrote back admitting my youth but pointing out it was a defect which time would undoubtedly cor- hall and stairway, and I found it harder to see. But I knew a surge of relief when Katie passed me, carrying a child in her arms, j Two minutes later I was safely down the stairs with the third helpless help-less tot in my arms. Miss Teetzel, as she took the patient from me, looked sharply into my sooty and reddened face. For the first time in my life I failed to see hate in her eyes. A village Indian who'd been wasting wast-ing water and energy as one of a bucket brigade tried to stop me as I started in through the door. He shouted that the stairs were on fire. But I pushed him to one. side and raced up through the smoke. I found what was left of the children chil-dren out of bed and huddled in one corner of the infirmary. There were four of them. They shrieked when they saw me, for Katie had given me a wet sheet with which to cover cov-er my head. That seemed to keep some of the smoke away and made it easier to breathe as I groped my way down with a little Nitchie in my arms. Again Miss Teetzel eyed me as I handed over another patient "No go back," a ragged half-breed bellowed at me as I faced the burning burn-ing building. He stood there, blocking block-ing my way, with one hand clamped to either side of the door. It was Katie's vigorous kick, coming down with a child in her arms, that sent him sprawling out on the ground and gave me gangway. I could hear the crackle of timber and see flames licking through the stair boards as I fought my way back to the infirmary. It would, I knew, be my last visit to that room. So I caught up the two remaining children, covering their heads with my wet sheet, and felt my way toward to-ward the hall. Their weight, when I was so in want ot breath, made me stagger. But they helped me, in their terror, by hanging on like leeches. I thought, tor a moment, that I was going to faint. I staggered down that runway of minute of silence, walked to the window win-dow and then returned to my side. "It wouldn't do any good," he said, with just a trace of the color ebbing from his face. "It's all happening hap-pening a little too late." "What's happening too late?" I asked him. "Our coming together," he said. "There are things," he went on, "not easily talked about," "But we can at least be honest with each other," I announced, for Instinct had already told me what he was groping toward. "Yes, we must be honest," he agreed. And the unhappiness in his eyes made my heart beat a little faster. "So it's time," I said, "that we both came down to earth." "What do you mean by that?" exacted ex-acted my grim-jawed companion. "I saw the girl back on the Seattle Se-attle wharf, the girl you said good-by good-by to. And I can understand why you must play fair with her." Lander's glance came slowly back to my face. "I've been engaged to her," he said, quite simply, "for over two years now." If I reached for a chair back, to steady myself, I at least managed to laugh a little. "That's fine," I said, with my chin Up. "Fine?" he echoed, plainly puzzled puz-zled by that lilting lightness of mine. "Of course," I maintained. "For now we can go on being good friends, without any worry or threat of of complications." "Can we?" he asked as his eyes once more rested on my face. "Good pals," I cried, "to the end of the trail. So let's shake hands on it, like two old-timers." He failed to observe, as we shook hands, that I had to swallow a lump in my throat "Would you mind telling me," I said when that was over, "just who she is?" I wrote back admitting my youth. rect. I also alluded to my physical physi-cal sturdiness and my eagerness to work in the new field, with an underlined un-derlined postscript announcing I was Alaska born. And in the meantime both the calendar and the excitement excite-ment of our little redskinned wards reminded us that Christmas was close at hand. Then came the second blow. For Katie and I, with Miss Teetzel still weak and crabby, did what we could to make the children's holiday a happy one. We sent to Anchorage for hard candy and sugar-canes and colored candles and glitter-paper and powdered mica. With my own hand I cut down a spruce tree and dragged it in over the hills. This, when duly installed in the school- licking and dancing flames, with my shoes scorching from the heat and my lungs aching for one whiff of pure air. I had. by this time, no sense of place or direction. But through the murk I could make out the pale oblong of the open door. And out through that open door I stumbled, stumbled straight into the arms of Katie O'Connell, who huskily huski-ly croaked, "Glory be to God!" as she eased me clown on the trodden dooryard snow and started flailing my burning clothes with the wet end of a blanket. Then, for a minute min-ute or two, everything went black. When I opened my eyes Katie was trying to make me swallow a cupful of brandy and water. "That's the ticket," she said. Then she busied herself rubbing olive oil on my scorched hands and cheeks. I didn't know it at the time, but my eyelashes were m.-ssing and a goodly part of my front hair had gone glimmering. "Did I get them all?" I asked. It hurt me to talk, for my throat was sore from the smoke. "You did, old-timer," affirmed Katie. Ka-tie. "But it nearly got you." And with that she picked me up in her arms and carried me to the improvised im-provised barracks that had once been our Warehouse, where a stove had been put up and floor bunks were arranged for the children. It wasn't long before Doctor Ruddock Rud-dock arrived on the scene. "Hello, stoker," he said, blinking down at me. Then he stooped for a moment to take my pulse. "You've got the stuff this country needs." "I'm all right." I told him. "You must look after the children." He nodded. "I'll fix you up later," he said as he put the blanket back over my scorched clothing. "But stay where you are. young lady, or I'll nail you down." (TO BE COSTINVED) room we draped with strung popcorn pop-corn and emblazoned with bits of ribbon and spangled with tin stars cut out of empty tomato cans, adding add-ing copious streamers of wrapping cord dyed red with beet juice and snowy handfuls of absorbent purloined pur-loined from the surgery. And over everything we sprinkled a generous glitter of powdered mica. It was all pathetically meager and make-believe. But the raptness of the children's eyes, as they stood and watched that tree, brought a lump to my throat. It paid for the long hours when Katie and I sat up wrapping oranges in red tissue paper, pa-per, one for each child, and labeling the mitts and stockings and sweaters sweat-ers out of the community gift boxes from Seattle and Juneau. But my little Injins loved it all. On Christmas morning, in fact, when I appeared in pillow-stuffed Turkey red as Santa Claus, they got so excited ex-cited we had to drape the schoolroom school-room doors with blankets, to keep the noise from Miss Teetzel's disapproving dis-approving ears. They put on paper hats and sang "Rock-a-bye, My Little Lit-tle Owlet" and "Jingle Bells" and even had a try at Handel's "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks." which Katie and I found it expedient to finish out by ourselves. Then they made the rafters ring with Al-ouette." Al-ouette." But their little Indian souls eventually eventu-ally got so drunk on music and px-citement px-citement that we had to ease 'hem down with a square dance. And the easing down would have been less dire if a little Copper River brave hadn't chased a still smaller Innuit blubber-eater from the Kuskokwim right into our twinkling and glittering glitter-ing Christmas tree. That coUision overturned one of the lighted can- f'heard a crackle of flames and 1 a dozen shrill cries from a dozen little lit-tle throats. Then I saw. tomy hor- It wasn't easy for him, of course. But he faced it with a forlorn sort of casualness. "She's Barbara Trumbull," he explained. ex-plained. "John Trumbull's daughter. daugh-ter. We practically grew up together." togeth-er." "Then you must have a great deal In common." He studied my face, as though in search of second meanings. "We had," he finally acknowledged. acknowl-edged. "But you talk of fighting her father," fa-ther," I reminded him. "And I intend to fight him," said the wide-shouldered man beside me. "But she'd feel things like that shouldn't count between us." When I spoke, after thinking this over, I was able to keep my voice steady. "How do you feel about it?' I asked. "I can't answer that," was Lander's Lan-der's slightly retarded reply. "You see, she's coming to Alaska to get things straightened out. She doesn't agree with her father that I've been disloyal to the Trumbulls." That also gave me a moment of thought. "Then she must be very fond of you," I heard myself saying. To that, however, Lander offered no answer. CHAPTER VI Toklutna didn't get rid of me so soon as it expected. Two days after my scene with the acidulous Miss Teetzel I was interrupted in my packing by Katie O'ConnelL "We're in quarantine," she announced, an-nounced, "with two cases of scarlet fever in the infirmary. And Ruddy says you can't walk out on him. "Miss Teetzel," I reminded her. "said otherwise." "But old Teetzel's out of the pic-Iture. pic-Iture. She's in bed with br. nchu.s. |