The Sky Line of Spruce

le winds came in troops, some from the sea, some with loads of balsam from the great forests of the Olympic Peninsula, and some, quite tired out, from the stre

to reach up and touch. Little forgotten stars that had hidden away since Heaven knows when in the deepest recesses of the skies came out to join in the celebration. Aged men, half blind, beheld so many that they thought

out as out of a dipper. It was almost at its full, large and nearly round, and it made the whole city, which is rather like other cities i

ens who had looked forward to some years yet of independent gaiety found themselves accepting. Old tom-cats went wooing; old spinsters got out old letters; old husbands thought to return and kiss

atter how faltering was his memory in other regards, the moon, at least, was an old acquaintance. He had known it in the nights when its light had probed into his barred cell; but his intimate acquaintance with it had begun long, long before that. Not even the names that t

in city slums. The love he had for it was an old love, proving to him conclusively that his past life had been intimately associated, some way, with moonlight falling in open places. Yet the mood that was wakened in him went even farther. It was as if the sight of the argent satellite stirred and moved deep-buried instincts innate in him, in no way connected with any experience of his immediate life. Rather it was as if

e street lights they walked northward along the docks, below Queen Anne Hill, passed old Rope Walk, through the suburb of Ballard, finally emerging on the Great Northern Railroad tracks head

auty. Ezra saw him straighten, his dark, vivid face rise; his quiet talk died on his lips. Evidently the peaceful scene before him went home to him ve

ilvered under the moon, were making many things plain to him which before were shadowed and vague. The steel rails gleamed like platinum, the tree tops seemed to have white, molten metal pour

sonment, but it had quite left him now. There were no cold, watchful lights,-only the moon and the stars and an occasional mellow gleam from the w

known delight stealing over him. He stole on farther, into the mystery of the night-ravished, tinglin

ched his patient, sounding him, studying his reactions and all that he had beheld had gone to strengthen hi

y smile had returned, in its full charm, to his droll face. "You'll want to know what it's all about-a

y took a seat beside him. "There are plent

n. "I don't understand it-but he says you've got a lot better chance to get your memory workin' clear again if thing

-and you used to be known as 'Wolf' Darby-for reasons that sooner or later you may know. Abner Darby was yo

k your memory, and that while it offers just the kind of 'stimuli' you're supposed to need, neither 'stimuli' nor stimulus or stimulum has got very much to do with it. I argued that po

d I don't see what difference it makes whether or not you remember who your great-aunt was, and the scrapes you got in as a kid. You can talk and walk

ad. I know you from head to heel, and I think I know what's good for you, what you can do and what you can't do and where you succeed and wh

word for that, Mr. Melvill

is Ezra Melville, and I've been known as 'Ezram' as long as I can remember,

n't got any money, and due to the poker habit I ain't got much either-in spite of the fact I've done two men's work for something over forty years. On this expedition to come we'll have to go on the cheaps. No Pullmans, no h

, rather than giving glorious alms to one to whom hope had seemed dead. Ben t

r him well enough. He was a prospector up to a place called Snowy Gulch-a town way up in the Caribou Mountains, in Canada. Some weeks ago

proposition, son," he went on in a sobered voice. "I'm mighty glad that I've got s

o let me in on anythin

e I've got my own ideas, if you must know. Didn't I hear that while you was rampin' around the underworld, you showed yourself a mighty good fighter? Well, there's likely to be some fightin' where we're goin', an

o the 'pen' to find one," Ben

even a third-to you. And I ain't such a fool as I look, neither. I know the chances of comin' out right on

etter, he rea

Gulc

ROTHER

uch more time. You know I've been hunting a claim. Well, I found it-rich a pocket as any body want, worth a

f my dust. I'm too sick to go to recorder in Bradleyburg and record claim. Get copy of this letter to carry, put this in some safe

ver past first rapids along still place to first creek you'll know it cause there's an old cabin just below and my canoe landing. Half mile up, in creek bed,

bro

MELV

ram's voice had died away. Ben'

rd-whether your brot

, and I guess he must have died soon after he wrote it. I suppose you see what

m enough, I should think, but since the claim isn't recorded, this simplifies matters for you. You'd better make a

all what I got. What I wan

give anything except my time and my work. You found me in a penitentiary, busted and all in-a thief and a gangster. Before we go an

yes glittered perceptibly. "You're in my charge,"

or my own part I'd give everything I've got and all I'd hope to ever get to go with you. It's a chance such as I never dared believe would come to me again-a ch

epay. You got me out of prison, you wakened hope and self-respect in me when I thought they were dead, and you've proved a friend when I'd given up any thought of ever knowing human friendship again. I was down and out, Ezram. Anything you want me to do I'll do to the last ditch. You know I can fight-you know how a man can

him out. "I'm gettin' as much pleasure out of it as you." His

I knew your mother, as a girl. She married a better man, but I