FUR FACTS 



"Not by any means," I assented, 



and if you don't mind, I'd like to 



"My name is Alice Blake, 9 * die confided. 



"A veiy pretty name,** I said, earnestly, sprinkling sugar over my 



She only smiled in a kmnHHJya t and we sat for some time 



"Alice! Alice!" came faintly from the adjoining room. It was 

 her mother calling, and I saw from the expression on her face as she 

 left the table that die anticipated difficulty of some kind. 



I had finished my breakfast hurriedly and was ready to go when 

 she entered the room again, 



"You are going?" she inquired with a look of what I hoped was 

 disappointment. 



"Yes, unless I can be of some help to yon," I replied. 



"There is nothing that you could do here, mother won't see 

 anyone but me and she refuses to have a doctor." 



I had hardly expected this reply from her, but I lost no time in 

 getting on my way. I placed a dollar on the table to pay for my 

 night** lodging and *"* two TK?I*, and thanking her very kindly for 

 her hospitality, I put out for home once more. 



That day I passed through Clarkson and on to Maiden. At 

 Maiden I stopped at an inn and partook of a thirty-fire cent supper, 

 and leaving a little before sundown I followed the roadway into a 

 log t orest. Darkness came on, and with it the distant howl of the 

 wolf . I shuddered as my mind reverted to my former experience 

 with the wolves and I was on the point of turning back to the town 

 when I saw a fight burst upon my horizon- Advancing in the direc- 

 tion of the light I saw presently a saw mitt. The mill-owner, who was 

 leaving for the night, granted me permission to sleep in the mflL 

 giving me some old robes for a bed. Here I would have doubtless 

 slept comfortable had it not been for the rats, but they seemed to 

 hafl my coming as an occasion for great merry-making and all night 

 long they scampered gleefully across the bare floor, stopping now and 

 then to gnaw a hole in a board dose by. 



Unable to sleep, I contented myself by visioning the face of 

 Alice Blake and attempting to account, in some manner, for the fact 

 that she, a beautiful and, apparently, innocent girl, was the daughter 

 of a bandit and a robber. Certainly, I had never had any high 

 regard for bandits and had I felt that she was in any way involved 

 in the malicious practices of her father, I would have hanishfd her 



