| LAKEVIEW HOTEL

C. G. SINGER, Manager

HEADQUARTERS FOR TOURISTS, TRAVELLERS
AND SPORTSMEN

“THE HOUSE OF COMFORT”
Fully Modern - European Plan

FAMOUS COFFEE SHOP

Edith Jackson, Proprietress

The Most Modern and Up-to-date Restaurant in the Cariboo

FULL COURSE MEALS AND LIGHT LUNCHES
WE SPECIALIZE IN GRILLED STEAKS

“We Serve Only the Best”

Ice Cream and Fountain Service, Cigars, Cigarettes and Tobaccos
Everything in Baking. Quality and Service. Our Baking is Under
the Most Sanitary Conditions With the Very Best Materials.

“The Only Way to Win the Day Is to Keep Smiling”
E PHONE 38, WILLIAMS LAKE, B.C.

URE LAUNDRIES

LAUNDRY — MENDING

Out of Town Orders Given Prompt
Attention

WILLIAMS LAKE B.C.

WITH COMPLIMENTS

C. H. DODWELL & CO.

(R. Beauchamp)
NOTARY PUBLIC
INSURANCE REAL ESTATE

WILLIAMS LAKE, B. C.

Advertise in the Official Magazine

of the Provincial Police

HODGSON BROS.

CHILCOTIN
MAIL - FREIGHT - PASSENGER
LINE
*

WILLIAMS LAKE, B.C.

DRY GOODS and
READY-TO-WEAR

Miss A. R. Burley

WILLIAMS LAKE, B.C.

A. L. STUART
GENERAL FREIGHT

Williams Lake and Redstone, B.C.

Page One Hundred and Fifty-two

and stumbled at times in the deep drifts.
With a thousand long, exploring fingers,
a fresh wind crept down from the Arctic,
lifting the dry snow in little powdery
whirlings, weaving new patterns on its
rippled surface. A pale sun crept behind
a blanket of leaden clouds and the wind
whistled with a dry, dreary hissing, suck-
ing eternally at my little store of warmth.

The sourness of second-hand air, stag-
nant, overheated, was welcome when I
entered the Melinchuk cabin. Whilst I
blinked frost from eyelashes, and fumbled
ice from eyebrows, thin, stunted Pete and
his cadaverous woman stared in supicious
uncertainty, and three fat little Melin-
chuks peered from behind a hanging
blanket which curtained off an end of the
long room.

“Cold.” Mrs. Pete said, finally, and
ladled cabbage soup into a tin plate.

“Cold.” Pete echoed, taking his cue
from the woman, and pulling a stool up
to the table for me.

Whilst the soup trickled down warmly
they all. watched silently. From behind
the hanging blanket came sounds of
laboured breathing.

“Somebody sick?” I asked.

“Sure. Bad sick.” Pete said, with vig-
orous noddings.

He walked over and pulled the blanket
aside. On the lumpy mattress of a crude
bed, a little white calf was lying, covered
by a thick feather quilt. His eyes were
wide and his tongue lolled.

“First one.” Pete said proudly. “Five
weeks old. His mama dies and now he
gets sick. Joe says keep him warm else
he die, too.”

“Who's Joe?”

“Horse doctor. Neighbour.’’ Pete said,
with more noddings.

I shook my head.

“Too hot for calf.” I told Pete. “You
keep him in that bed and he die for sure.”

Pete shrugged and looked at his wife
who turned away growling something in
her own language. I knew she was tell-
ing Pete it was none of my business, and
not to believe me.

Long questioning about that latest
rumour over the killing of Mike Snoski
ended in the usual blind alley, and I left,
refusing an invitation to stay overnight.

Steam Heated Throughout
Dining Room and Coffee Shop in Connection

WILLIAMS LAKE

I had-only been back in my detachmey
office for a day and a half when J yx
summoned urgently back to the foreign
settlement. This time everybody had ney,
for me. However irresolute Rabchak my
have been in his attitude towards life
there was no hesitation about his manne
of leaving it. When he tied one end of;
rope to a low rafter in his gimerack bam,
and knotted the other end around his nec,
there was insufficient drop to leave hin
swinging, when he jumped off the edg
of the manger. Rabchak remedied this hy
drawing up his legs after he jumped, ani
deliberately refusing to let them tou
the ground. That he did not die quickly
was evidenced by the splinters, driver
deep under his finger nails, when le
clawed the rough side of the stall in his
choking agony. His will to die over-rote
that urge for living which we know tole
one of man’s strongest instincts. Mike
Rabchak, grubby, confused little immt |
grant, was able to deny himself th
straightening of his legs which would hae
saved his life.

The rest of the story was told by Simoi
Petta, a bearded old man who spoke
understandable English, and who looke!
upon life from patient brown eyes st
deep in a wrinkled face.

“Rabchak, he left a girl in the old land.
Petta said, over black coffee and sot
cream biscuits, after the burying.

“After he had saved enough money!
this rich new land, he would send for tit
girl. But things always went badly i
him. He could never get ahead. The yea’
are long and the seas are wide, whet!
woman is waiting. And it is hard to tah
from the heart and to explain things
when one cannot read or write. $0, #
last, the girl took a husband over in the
old land. It was Mike Snoski she mattie!
His brothers farm the half section m&
to the schoolhouse where they have tlt
dances. Six months she was married, tit!
she sickened and died. The brothers st!
money to Mike, so that he could come att
here and forget. But Rabchak, he
never forget.”

“So it was Rabchak who did the kl’
ing?” I asked.

The old man shrugged.

THE SHOULDER SIM