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Show UMBER FROZEN STARS ; CHAPTER I "Smoke, old chum, there's something some-thing adrift out there lo the south." Kur.s pricked, the massive black and-while and-while husky raised Hlant eyes to the poakor. Jim Stuart watched a distant object, which regularly disappeared, to lift again on the white crest of the running run-ning nous. "Acts like n filled canoe. Smoke. I'm going to get the gi asses. Crossing the clearing, where the grasH grew thickly among the stumps, to the group of whlte-wushed log buildings of the little fur post, he entered en-tered the tradehouse. "Looks like a capsized canoe out there, Omar," Stuart said to the broad-Jiaeked broad-Jiaeked figure sealed cross-legged on the floor, shaping with a drawknlfe a slab of birch Into a paddle. The half breed lifted a swart, square face, seamed with lines, his mouth widening to a grin, as he said: "Wal, w'ot you do? Dig enno' come from lS'or'-Wo.s' companee; eet ees good t'lng, ehV" "You're too bitter, Omar," said the factor of Sunset House. "We can't let men drown before our eyes even If they are from I, eWorld's." St mi rt took his service binoculars from the case and Joined the dog who waited for him at the door. Crossing the clearing to the shore, he focused the glasses on the wind-harried lake. As ho found the drifting object he nought, his lips moved In a muttered: ".Man hanging to that boat! How long can he last?" .Tim started on a run for the trade-house. trade-house. "(,'ome on, Omar! There's Borne one with that filled canoe. Come on I We'll take the peterboro I" The lined face of the half-breed HlulTened In a black frown. "We fill, too, out (lore! Tough Job put de enno' Into dat wind !" Stuart laughed as he started for the shore, followed reluctantly by his man. "What! The best canoeman I ever saw afraid of that water?" he taunted. "You sure hate that' Le-Jilond Le-Jilond outfit! P.ut we'll show this fellow fel-low some paddling!" Out Into the weller of wind-driven Boas went the plunging canoe. For a mile, the dogged "churn-swish, churn-swish" churn-swish" of maple blades fought the fury of the southwester. On they went for a space, then swung toward the submerged boat. The canoes were within short rifle shot of each other when .Tim saw the dark head beside the submerged craft move as If to signal sig-nal the approaching boat. "He's all right !" panted Stuart. "ne'U hnng on I A boy I" Ralls awash, the filled canoe bore down on the laboring peterboro. As the rescuing boat worked closer a huge comber mounded over the wallowing craft burying the dark head beside it. Jim dug desperately with his paddle, pad-dle, fearful of what the- lifting boat would reveal. Hut as the canoe rose lie saw the head still there, with the arms circling a thwart. "Good boy 1" muttered the bowman. Closer crept the peterboro. Again the boat was drowned In a ridge of black water, topped with foam. Then, as the dark head appeared, the eyes of the toiling bowman widened In amazement. "A girll" Ills paddle tore at the water. Over his shoulder he shouted : "It's a girl !" It was dangerous work edging the peterboro alongside a filled boat yawing yaw-ing In that sea. But Omar Bolsvert was a magician with a paddle, and did not hesitate. As they reached the canoe the half-drowned girl turned a face gray from exhaustion and the drenching of the seas, and her blue lips moved. While Omar fought to hold his bow Into the wind against the drag of the yawing canoe, Stuart worked desperately desper-ately to get the limp body of the girl into the boat without rolling them under un-der a lifting sea. At last, she was In the peterboro, and, as a ridge of water broke at the bow, they cleared the boat and headed for Sunset House. "A white girl from I.eElond's! Short hair, whipcord knickers who can she be?" wondered Jim as his stiff arms drove his paddle. He glanced over his shoulder at the huddled figure of his drenched passenger covered by his coat. "Cold?" he shouted to the 6hlverlng girl. "Get down, out of the wind !" She nodded, with a gallant attempt Rt a smile, as he encouraged : "Only a few minutes now !" But two miles of runulng "white horses" separated the canoe, yawing In the following sea, from the post, and the kneeling paddler had his work cut out. At length, leaping Into the shoal water, Stuart eased the boat in to the beach at the post ; then lifted the girl, blue with cold, from the boat "Can you walk?" he asked, conscious of the thickness of her drenched, crow-black crow-black hair. "Take my arm." The girl's stiff legs, numb from exposure ex-posure to water and wind, moved uncertainly. un-certainly. With a shrug she raised black eyes to the man who supported her, wondering If he dared pick her up and run to the warm kitchen of Omars cabin. "I make you much trouble," she replied through chattering chatter-ing teeth. "You take me out of that wet lake. Now you must dry me." At the door of her cabin the amazed Marthe, wife of Omar, met them with wide and disapproving eyes. Jim Stuart with a short-hairefr girl wear-lug wear-lug a man's coal, a man's irousers, a by GEORGE MARSH Copyright by Penn Pub. Co. (WNU Sorvlce) man's high laced boots! A costume for women unknown In KIwedin. "Wat w'ut you do, Meester Jeem?" she feebly gasped, overwhelmed with embarrassment. "She's been in the lake, Marthe," explained ex-plained Stuart. "She upset and drifted drift-ed across from I.el'.lond's. Needs hot soup and a fire quick! I'll rustle dry clothes for you, Miss Miss " With a flash of white teeth the girl laughed: "Oh, didn't you guess? I'm Aurore LeBlond !" Jim Stuart was startled. The blood showed in his tanned cheeks as he replied: re-plied: "No, I didn't know." Then he said: "Marthe will take care of you, Miss LeBlond. Get those wet clothes olT and dry out. My cook will have some supper for you shortly." I.eWond's daughter, at Sunset House I Impossible to get her back across that lake until the wind died! What a situation! What would Le-Wond, Le-Wond, his rival and enemy, do? He'd paved the life of LeBIond's girl. It wus a huge Joke on the free-trader. Now what would he do? As the girl followed the Ojibwa woman Into the log house, she turned In the doorway and called to Stuart: "Merci, monsieur, oh very many thanks for saving me from a watery grave !" With a laugh she disappeared. "Well, Omar, she's surely a cool one! Half frozen In those clammy clothes, she stops to make fun of our breaking His Paddle Tore at the Water. Over His Shoulder He Shouted: "It's a Girll" our backs to reach her before she let go that canoe. Gratitude, eh and nerve?" "Ah-hah !" grunted the half-breed, "Louis LeBlon', he ees lak dat. He don' care for nobodee. How you get her home?" "Get her back against this wind? She'll have to stay till It drops." With a grunt Omar stopped in his tracks, his face black with disapproval. disap-proval. "You know w'at dat mean?" "I know. He'll make a fuss, no doubt, but there's no help for It'. She can sleep In my quarters with old Sarah. I'll stay with you." "We breeng her back to LeBlon' een de morn' an' we have troubl'. You don' know dat feller." "No, I don't suppose I do, Omar. But I know that he's putting us out of business, and that will mean all our work here Is lost. No, I don't know LeBlond, but he'll know me before be-fore I quit." The squat Sarah, the Scotch-OJibwa who presided over Jim Stuart's kitchen, kitch-en, was in a ferment of irritation-, as she bustled about her stove. She had seen the canoe land and watched Stuart, followed by Omar, lead what she Imagined a half-drowned boy to the cabin. Then, to her astonishment and wrath, Stuart had appeared to announce an-nounce that this girl In men's clothes this shameless daughter of his rival across the lake, was to be fed. With her fire well started and the kettles on, the outraged Sarah had lost no time In shuffling over to the rear entrance of Omar's cabin for a whispered council of war with the equally Indignant Marthe. Yes, it was true what Sarah had seen. Short hair and men's breeches! No Ojibwa woman wom-an would bring shame to her sex by shearing her hair, and as for the "gibodiegwason" the breeches? Mar-the's Mar-the's rolling eyes and hunched shoulders shoul-ders eloquently portrayed her thoughts. But then, some white women are mad! With much wagging of dark, braided braid-ed heads tile women parted. Jim Stuart's knock at the door of Omar's cabin brought the reply: "Coming '." Shortly the door opened and tt l daughter of the man who was rapidly driving him out of the fur trade at Mitawangagama Ojibwa for the Lake of the Sand Beaches stood In dry woolen blouse caught at the neck by a scarf of crimson silk, and whipcords; whip-cords; on her stockinged feet a pair of the begrudging Marthe's beaded moccasins. moc-casins. "You're warm again no chill?" he asked, poignantly aware of the picture she made In the frame of the door. "Yes, my heroic rescuer," she began archly, "and now Monsieur Sourface, that I'm warm and dry again and look less like a drowned fish, do you not like me better?" The fluttering of her black hair Ir the wind ; the allure of her thlck-lashed thlck-lashed eyes; the clean lines of her build held the appraising sweep of Stuart's gaze, as she posed, hands on hips, free of all self-consciousness, watching him In frank amusement. "No, Miss LeBlond," he replied In mock gravity, "I think I prefer you as a 'drowned fish.' You were then more respectful to your 'heroic rescuer.' res-cuer.' " "But my hair was plastered with water and my eyes red !" she objected, vehemently. "See It now how If waves when It's dry I" "Yes, It's very nice !" he replied, aghast at her amazing candor, as he walked beside her toward his quarters. quar-ters. So this was the new girl, the younger generation! He had not been "outside," down to the railroad and civilization, since his discharge from the army on his return from France. But In the stray papers and magazines which had reached him In the hinterlands hinter-lands of Kiwedin, he had read of the manners and dress of the younger generation. The frankness of this "specimen," however, was startling. He said. "Now, you haven't told me how you happened to paddle that canoe out from your shore past the lee of the Islands. You see what a risk you took?" "Oh, I was tired of listening to that fool, Taul Paradls," she explained, "and it wasn't rough Inside the Islands. But, outside, before I knew It, the wind caught me and I couldn't turn back. You know the rest." "You had a close shave, Miss LeBlond," Le-Blond," he said quietly, wondering at her seeming lack of gratitude for the battle two men had made with wind and sea for her life. She turned impulsively, placing a hand on his arm, as her face sobered. "You don't have to tell me that," she said, and the raillery left her brilliant bril-liant eyes. "I died out there, today. I knew I couldn't last hang on, much longer. . . . Then I saw you coming!" He looked suspiciously at her dark face. Was she acting? But the straight gaze which met' his betokened sincerity. sin-cerity. "I thought you didn't know," he said, lamely. "Didn't know?" she cried, almost al-most savagely. "You think me a fool?" Then, swiftly, her mood changed. "Ah, I will now make amends to my heroic deliverer from the raging waters wa-ters of Mita Mitawangagama Is that right? The Lake of the Sand Beaches !" she laughed. "Sir. you have rescued a water-logged maid from the fishes ! She will never forget your bravery or your surprise at her whipcords whip-cords ! She thanks you with all the heart she has left !" Aurore LeBlond bowed grotesquely, until her hair touched the long grass of the clearing. He watched her in silence, with a quizzical smile, puzzled, wondering, half-charmed, partly repelled. "Let's I see what Sarah has got for us," he sug- gested. "I'm hungry, aren't you?" . : "Starved ! She won't poison me, will she? Marine's eyes snapped fire when she saw me In these." The girl lifted a shapely leg and curled her I toes In the smoke-tanned moccasin, far too generous In size for her foot. j "You did startle them In those," ha laughed. "You rather startled me; I I haven't been In Winnipeg since the war." ! "You poor man !" i "No, I've lived In Winnipeg and ' prefer this. Hello. Smoke!" Bursting from the spruce at the edge of the ; clearing where he had been hunting rabbits, Smoke loped up to the man and girl. "What a handsome dog!" she cried. "Why, he's much larger than any of father's! fa-ther's! Where did you get him?" "He's a Hudson's Straits Cngava," said Jim, proudly. "He's a raving beauty. The darling! dar-ling! will he let me touch him? Most of father's wou't." "Smoke, this Is a friend of mine," said Jim. "Shake hands with her!" With a red grin which bared his formidable tusks, the Ungava raised a hairy paw, which the girl took. j "Smoke," she said, with a laugh, as the dog's slant eyes watched his mas- ter's face, "You're not polite; you don't look at the lady when you shake ! hands." "Like his master, he's embarrassed by beautiful ladies," said Jim, as they left the dog and entered the house. "Is that why you prefer this life to Winnipeg because of your shyness of the ladies? But you'll be lonely when this beautiful lady goes," she challenged. chal-lenged. Here Indeed was no false" modesty. "What makes you think so?" he teased. "Oh, every one Is. But you're hardly hard-ly polite. How nice and comfortable you are here !" she went on, her eyes moving from the chairs built of spruce and birch in the round, the caribou and bear-skin rugs, to walls bare except ex-cept for moose-horn gun-rack and two shelves of books. He reddened under his tan. "You're laughing at my humble quarters. They're not much like your father's place, are they?" Ignoring his remark, she faced him with : "Why do you men hate each other? Can't you trade with the Indians In-dians without fighting?" Stuart laughed at her frankness. "We haven't exactly got to fighting yet; but I admit he's making It pretty rough for me." They sat down at the table and the square-built Sarah appeared, her copper cop-per skin red from cooking, a large pink bow bobbing bravely from her dusky braids. With a withering look at Jim's guest from her small eyes, she deposited a dish of steaming caribou cari-bou stew, to be followed by broiled whitefish, hot biscuit, tea and wild strawberries. "Dear me, but I'm hungry !' exclaimed ex-claimed the girl, as the outraged and Inquisitive Ojibwa woman, hands on hips, boldly scrutinized her from bobbed hair to whipcord knickers to gain a better view of which the cook coolly stepped back and circled her chair. Then, aware of the exhaustive Inspection In-spection from the rear by the fascinated fascin-ated and shocked Sarah, the girl rose and turned to the gasping cook: "Would you like to see my knickers?" she asked, wheeling on her toes. "You don't wear them, do you? You'd find them very comfortable." Choking with confusion, the overwhelmed over-whelmed Sarah fled to the kitchen, while Stuart shook with laughter. "You're too much for Sarah. . She was certainly hypnotized by your gibodlegwason." "My what?" "Your gibodlegwason your pan whipcords !" "Mon Dieu ! Are they as awful as that?" she cried, overcome by the Ojibwa equivalent. "What did you call them? Gibo-di-what? No wonder Marthe and Sarah are shocked! Think of a woman wearing anything with such a name! Gibo-dl " and she broke into shouts of laughter. "Gibodiegwason," he repeated. "Glbo-di-eg-wason !" she faltered, breathlessly, "gibos, for short! Wait till they hear that in Winnipeg! They'll never wear 'em again I" Stuart regarded his guest with unconcealed un-concealed curiosity. Buried In the hinterlands hin-terlands since the war, he had had no contact with the new girl. But now, it appeared, he was being offered a rare opportunity for the study of the species. "There won't be much left of me when Sarah and Marthe get their heads together, but you're not really shocked, Monsieur Stuart. With us, all women wear them for sport." "No, indeed. I'm not shocked," he laughed, hl3 eye3 shifting from her dusky head to the well-shaped hand busy with her fork. "We saw lots of them in France. But I'm wondering wonder-ing just how your being here will strike your father. It's going to blow all night, Miss LeBlond, and I don't see how we can get you home." "So you're worried over what Marthe and Sarah will think If you can't rid yourself of your guest, Mr. Stuart?" she suggested with a curl of a full red lip. "I'm wondering how your father will take it How will he like it when he learns that you've been here?" She shrugged. "My father adores his unworthy daughter. He will love you for what you did this afternoon. The poor man must think I'm in the lake, now. He'll be insane wlti worry 1 roor dad !" (TO BE CONTrNUED.1 |