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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 06, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 19',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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had been accustomed to going home
There came up, however, trouble
among the sluice workers. It arose'
over the refusal of Dunbar to pay
them a certain rebate agreed on.
They refused to work. He claimed
that they had violated their contract
and were not entitled to the money.
These men claimed they were" being
robbed and quit the job, but hung
around making some ugly threats.
On this 'account Bert arid Mark
consented to remain nights near the
plant, and quite comfortably estab
lished themselves in a little building
that had been used to store dyna
mite in the early stages of the con
struction work. They would go to
town alternate evenings and did their
One afternoon Bert was returning
from- the village when he heard a
yell for help. He was amazed to trace
it to the side of the rough road, ap
parently beneath its surface. Final
ly he discovered an old man who had
fallen into an unused pit. He helped
him out, scared and bruised.
"Where's the. eggs!" gasped the
rescued one, looking wildly about.
"The eggs?" repeated Bert vaguely.
"Yes. I was carrying a basket with
forty dozen of them in it. Automo
bile came along. Stepped aside to
get out of the way of it and fell into
that hole. As I did so the basket
swung clear of my hand. I'm a poul
try farmer down the road. Suppose
all that hen fruit just smashed to
Bert made a search. It was a queer
thing, but he discovered the basket
safely nestled in among a lot of hazel
brush and not an egg cracked or
The old farmer was delighted. He
found out who Bert was.
"Say," he observed, "I'll send you
down a basket of the nicest, freshest
eggs you ever saw tomorrow."
The man kept his promise and
there was a rare, breakfast feast. Bert
and Mark had ggs boiled, fried and
poached. Bert was the cook that
morning, and after the meal set the
basket containing an egg supply for
a week ahead on a sheltered shelf on
the shaded end of the house outside.
It was about two hours later that
Bert and Mark, superintending some
work at the dam, were startled by
the sound of a violent commotion.
They noticed a little way up the road
an automobile containing half a
dozen young ladies. It was one that
Dunbar frequently hired from a local
garage. Then at a distance they
noted Dunbar himself.
He had evidently driven up to the
plant, had gone into the office and
coming out had been confronted by
a party of the dissatisfied workmen.
About a-dozen of these were chasing
"Lynch him!" . ;-
"Where's"' the money 'you stole
from us?" . f
,?String him up!" '
These and other vicious and
furious shouts followed-the fugitive.
He ran for his life, his face ashen
pale and terrified. He dodged behind
the little cabin where Bert and Mark
slept nights. As he came -into "view
again an amazing spectacle was re
vealed. Swat! through the air sped a
white oval missile. It struck the
glossy silk hat of the runtter and car
ried it into a mud puddle. Swat!
two more of the missiles landed on
his back, giving out a slimy ooze of
white and yellow. Then a perfect
fusilade, and as Dunbar turned to dis
cern the distance of his foes two more
projectiles landed on his face.
With a shriek of fear the fugitive
made for the near woods. He had to
pass the waiting automobile. He was
a bedraggled, forlorn specimen, a tar
get for the basket of eggs his pur
suers had discovered given "to Bert
by the farmer.
The rioters halted near the ma
chine as their prey escaped them, and
then the fair admirers of Tracy Dun
bar knew what kind of a man he was.