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BiH

--<{ To CARIBOO AND BACK }--

tered in the Park and there was more noise
and rejoicing than even a Queen’s Birthday
could call forth. Bands and banners and booths,
as always, but more of them. Speeches without
end.

In the afternoon Betty Wilfer and her
father emerged from the front door of their
newly possessed home and walked down the
gravelled path now tidily weeded, between the
lawns and terraces, green, smoothly cropped,
with never a dandelion in sight, and passed out
of the gate now spick and span.in fresh paint.
They were on their way to see the sights. ,

Betty’s curls had grown and were as golden
as ever, clustering round her neck under the
broad Leghorn that looked a good:deal like
the one she had worn eleven years before when
she went out holding tight Jim’s hand. The
ruffled pink organdy that billowed over her
starched petticoats made her look like a new
kind of rose with petals turned down instead
of up, a very pretty kind of rose.

They had only gone a few yards when they
saw a tall young man coming towards them.
Betty took just one look before she gave a
scream.

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