The Topeka state journal. [volume], May 31, 1913, LAST EDITION, Page 15, Image 15

About The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980

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THE TOp-siKA. DAILY STATE JOTJRNAIi SATURDAY EVENING. MAY 31,1913-
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LOCAL NEWS EVENTS OF THE FAST WEEK AS DEPICTED BY PARSONS
VEDNESDAT
THURSDAY
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Printers hold memorial services for Governor Hodges and good road High school seniors celebate class Prominent grain growers call on the Another heat record blew up with a Topeka pays its annual tribute to Topperwein, fancy rifle shot, give
departed brothers. boosters make flying trip. day. public utilities commission. loud report. Civil war heroes. an exhibition.
THE JINKS THAT FOLLOWED
THE SUNRISE-SUNSET PRESS GAR
Never again for one reporter who
covered the sunrise-sunset automobile
run over the Xew Santa Fe trail. There
are too many thrills and missing heart
throbs on such a trip for a news writer
who was reared in the country and
whose early training convinced him
that a trip to the county seat In a
lumber wagon or hay rack was just
about the proper rate of speed.
After arriving in Kansas City, Gov
ernor Hodges said he enjoyed the trip.
The reporter slipped up the street and
hunted a refreshment booth, where he
tried to forget his day's experiences.
That is probably Just an ordinary dif
ference in temperaments. Yet, if you
never made one of those flying speed
scoots in a motor car behind a driver
whose lone ambition is to make a
record and have the consequences en
graved on his headstone, then you are
not a competent juror and could not
qualify as an expert witness in
case on trial.
Lunging straight ahead toward the
rising sun, the press car on the Xew
Santa Fe trail run left Hutchinson at
sunrise. Harry Taylor, one of the best
drivers in the state, was at the wheel
for the newspaper men who went
along to chronicle the day's casualties
and mishaps. Pete Newton, an Em
poria "daredevil, drove the official car
and was entrusted with the life of
Governor Hodges and some other im
portant citizens. Both men took good
care of their wards on that jump to
Emporia in the morning and the pass
ing thrills which the passengers ex
perienced should not be charged
against the records of the drivers.
Taylor "Was Insulted.
Yet, right on the start, Taylor was
Insulted and didn't hesitate to admit
it. Tearing along the sandy Reno
county road at a 40-mile clip, Taylor
began to warm up his car. Just as the
driver was beginning to feel care free
and to warm up to his passengers, he
was insulted. The Insult was that one
of those Irresponsible motorcycle
Mikes shot by Taylor's car with a Nell
Brinkley image hanging to the oil tank
like mistletoe to a tree. Taylor didn't
appreciate such conduct and he began
to speed up a bit. For ten miles the
speed indicator hung languidly over
the 50 mark. At the Harvey county
road, Taylor was signalled to give the
lead to the official car. But Taylor
hung just back of the cloud of dust
from the big Buick machine.
The reporters were Just settling back
in their seats in anticipation of an en
joyable day, when the official car
waved a danger signal. Taylor was
just preparing to jump his big Chal
mers entirely over a cross roads. He
had time to look up and see a run
away team lunging straight across the
path in front of him. There isn't
much time to outline a tour when you
see a runaway team 50 feet ahead of
you. But Taylor never lessened his
speed. His car leaped across the road
inches in front of the runaways, miss
ed a tall hedge fence by less than
three feet and before the gasping re
porters had time to put words on their
lips, Taylor was preparing for a swing
around a sharpe curve two miles fur
ther east.
From Halstead to Newton, the roads
were wet from the rains of the pre
vious night. Taylor's car skidded and
skated from one side of the road to
the other, but the Hutchinson driver
neither stopped for mud chains nor
slackened speed. Fifteen minutes later
he stopped his car on Newton's main
street 5 8 minutes ahead of schedule.
Ate Breakfast on Hun.
Five minutes later the cars were
spinning down the road toward Pea
body. Kight minutes were clipped off
the Newton-Peabody jump. Mit Wil
hite stopped the cars in front of a
hotel. A man distributed sandwiches
to the tourists while Governor Hodges
sain a lew nice words about good
roaas. as soon as each man and Mrs.
Kelley the only woman on the trip
had grabbed a sandwich, the cars were
going again and the party was eating
breakfast while the drivers were ruin
ing express time for the climb over the
Osage county hills.
Drivers of those cars probably never
learned that there was a low gear on
meir macnmes. At least they never
used it. Straight into Florence the
cars flew. The engines never stonped
purring as Governor Hodges, Mit Wil
hite and Ralph Faxon talked. Then
there was a leaping sensation as the
cars tore off down the road and left
the few hundred gaping citizens won
dering as to what had happened.
L"p hill, down hill, over shaky
bridges and dangerous looking cul
verts, through green valleys and wood
lands, those speed maniacs drove the
machines In their race to Cottonwood
Falls. If Paul Revere had carried his
message last Monday, he would have
been spoken of in the same breath with
Pete Newton and Harry Tavlor. The
Flint hill loomed straight ahead, but
the cars never slowed up one bit. They
swung around a sharp curve at the
base of the rough, rugged hill in a
manner that made the passengers diz
zy. At the roadside stood a half doz
en wondering children and a stupefied
father and mother. Taylor's car hit
that curve at awful speed. Just as it
righted itself, the riders saw less than
three feet from the roadside, a little
babe standing in a clump of weeds.
That child's parents will never know
by the number of inches their babe
missed a trip to Eternity that bright
sunny morning. On up the hillside
those purring engines Jerked the cars.
A waiting delegation of motorists start
ed to follow, but the speech making and
celebration in Cottonwood Falls was
ended and the visitors gone when those
"home pride" cars arrived.
Trouble Starts at Emporia.
Intj Lyon county the cars plunged
in the effort to reduce the running
time to Emporia. Taylor was just
showing the Emporia speed boys a fine
burst of speed when a connecting rod
broke. The driver bdought his ma
chine to a dead stop. Emporia motor
ists some of them sped by. The
Kelley car from Hutchinson stopped
to lend aid. It was necessary to tow
the press car into town. Just as the
Kelley car backed up to pick up the
cripple, a big Mitchell six jumped out
of a cloud of dust straight toward the
Hutchinson machine. Had the Mitch
ell driver seen the obstruction a second
the I later, there would have been a casualty
list irom jumporia. 'ine .Mitchell man
swung to the side of the road, ripped
the fender of the Kelley car and right
ed itself after missing a telephone pole
by less than a foot. Yet It all hap
pened so suddenly that the Mitchell
machine was up 'own before anyone
realized that a half dozen innocent
people had missed a peep Into the
mysterious future by the barest pos
sible margin.
Arnold Some Speed Bus.
It was after leaving Emporia,
though, that the newspaper boys en
countered things. Frank Arnold was
assigned to drive the reporters to Kan
sas City. Arnold is gray. Well might
he be. Well might Arnold's bony
hand that waved greetings to farmers
that day be the graven image of death.
Arnold left Emporia with a verbal de
termination to show the reporters the
ride of their lives and he did It,
every word of it. Up grade to Lebo,
22 miles, Arnold drove in 30 minutes,
fiat.
Down grade for five miles out of
town, Arnold did even better. The man
who held the lever on Scotty's Death
Valley special never drew a deeper
breath of satisfaction than did Arnold
at the wheel as he saw the speed dial
turn up and up and up. Five miles be
yond Lebo there Is a sharp right angle
curve, just beyond which is a narrow
concrete culvert. After it was all over
the reporters testified one to another
that Arnold hit that curve nothing short
of 35 miles an hour. Yet all they re
call is seeing that curve and culvert
ahead, hearing an awful roar and
climbing out of the bottom of the bat
tered car. Arnold had hit the concrete
banister of the bridge and jumped his
car Into a sign post, against a tree and
nosed the engine into a cornfield.
That Trip to Ottawa.
One of those "first aid to the injured"
buzz wagons that always follows a
speed party for a few miles, arrived a
few minutes later. It carried the re
porters and their baggage to Olivet.
There a banker with a noisy little car
offered aid and his driver took the party
a few miles until the machine stopped
puffing and gasping for breath. An
other car took the correspondents on
to Melvern and there that car laid
out for repairs. Car No. 5 volunteered
to carry the hapless scribes to Ottawa.
But at Quenemo, it staggered under a
cheerful shade tree and begged to be
allowed to rest. The pace was too fast.
Then car No. 6 came to rescue. It
wheezed and coughed and sputtered un
der the strain but the red haired, hat
less driver coaxed and petted and plead
ed with the machine for the remainder
of the run to Ottawa 18 miles distant.
At Ottawa the celebration was over.
The band was playing its final tune on
a street corner arid the crowd was pre
iparing to go- home when the weary and
dusty victims of the trail "cutoff" hoo
doo came down the Main street five
minutes after the official car had left.
It looked like a trip the rest of the
way on the soft cushions of a railway
coach. There was no aid in sight, the
red haired pilgrim with the Quenemo
car declared, his machine couldn't stand
the remaining 71 miles of the trip anu
the reporters knew that he spoke the
truth.
One Charitable Banker.
Then Frank Miller, an Ottawa bank
er, came to rescue. His driver opened
the doors of the Miller machine and the
news chasers were on the final lap. At
Wellsville, the Kelley car was havins
trouble. But by this time the reporters
were cold blooded and heartless. They
left the stranded Kelley car standing
by the side of the road, wished the oc
cupants good fortune and whispered to
Miller's driver to "open her up" and
race for Kansas City. And the driver
did. He sent his machine through
Franklin county at a 35 mile clip, pick
ed up seven or eight miles of speed on
a better road in Johnson county and
ruined all the speed ordinances ever
written as he felt the firm macadam
road of Wyandotte county under the
wheels of his car.
While the reporters were offering
thanksgiving that they were at least
second in the race, the Kelley car slip
ped up from behind and flew past the
Ottawa machine at a clip of more than
50 miles an hour. They were never
caught until the cars checked In on
Grand avenue a half hour later.
Couldn't Dodge Thin Iuek.
Then, just to be sure that the sign
of ill fortune was still handing over
their heads, the car in which the re
porters were riding crashed into the
Kelley car at the checking station. It
merely demolished a few searchlights,
battered a fender and knocked some of
the blue-black paint off the press car.
But the run was over. The news
writers called the roll. They were all
present. In that day's run, nine ma
chines had carried the newspaper
bunch. Fred Davis, who drove the
Kelley mathine, and Pete Newton, tri
charge of the official car, had made the
trip without a change. Surely, the
press car of a speed run is an ill fated,
predestined to encounter trouble. A
likeable little chap from one of the
Emporia papers, made the Emporia
Ottawa run. He was sure he was the
Jinks. Several times he offered to cry
or to get out and walk. But the crowd!
stayed together and compiled a card
index system of thrills and experiences
that will be referred to in later years
when some .of these same news hunters
are assigned to an endurance run.
CHAMPION SPELLER.
Boy Successful In Spelling 8,409
Words.
Kimball. May 31. The Caldwell,
Kan., high school has a champion
speller in John Winfield Fisk, oldest
son of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Fisk and
oldest grandson of Mr. and Mrs. Win
field S. Marks of Kimball. In a con
test recently held in Caldwell he
spelled 3,400 words, the 3,000 being
taken from the state textbook and
400 additional words. He received a
gold medal. He Is 14 years old.
The
ag
Irrestible Alike to the "Fresh"
the Vagrant the Blase Fancy!
BY NELL BRINKLEY
Copyright, 1913, International News Association.
' -
Nell-
Just a bit of a failing it is our most beloved weakness to
stop and smile at a baby's face. Crabbed, life-worn old man
his shuffling feet waver and halt and a smile crinkles his win-cer-face.
Heavy, shiny old lady, her mind lost these many
years in dulled things of memory and the aches of present
"rheumatics" she glows down upon the bit of pink life with
a ghost of her old girlish beauty on her broad face.
The handsome wretch of a young chap with nothing on his
mind but a smart, soft hat and the fact that it is good to live
Brinkley-
in the Spring-time he slows his lively feet long enough to
flash down an admiring grin, mutter "Keen little beggar," and
go off with an odd stirring in his mind of a latent dream.
The chic little peach of a girl with a dream of a chapeau
atop her curls, a hint of rouge on her cheekbones, taking her
abbreviated little steps in tight swathed silk, stops dead, digs
her smooth white fists in her hips and stays a very long time
her mouth curved in sudden sweetness a brooding under
standing in her eyes, lost in what is probably her first uncon
scious pose that day.
A slim aristocrat, airing her toy-dog, lingers with pretty
SayS-
dragging feet, her face a mixture of half-delight, half-envy
' and all sadness. I imagined I caught the glimmer of tears in
her fine eyes but then I have a lively imagination maybe it
was the sun or I WANTED to see them there. And up at. the
top of the curving park walk the big blue "cop" beams down
at the little mother and the slow-moving white baby carriage.
He cannot see that far what's in it, but he knows it's the
keenest thing ever and his heart pulls that way all by itself!
Just a beloved weakness of ours to show our naked souls in
our eyes to slow our busy feet to smile when we see
baby's face.
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