The St. Charles herald. [volume], July 07, 1917, Image 4

About The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993

Image provided by: Louisiana State University; Baton Rouge, LA

                
The î\ 6 sl
Man
FRANCIS LYNDE
[ Mmtratiso» by IRWIN
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Copyright by Chad. Scribner's Sons
CHAPTER V—Continued.
Smith heard him through, nodding
tmdcrstandingly when the tale was
told.
"It's the old story of the big fish
swallowing the little one; so old that
there is no longer any saving touch of
novelty in it," lie commented. "I've
been wondering if there wasn't some
thing of that kind in your background.
And you say you haven't any Belmonts
or Morgans or Rockefellers in your
company?"
"We have a bunch of rather badly
scared-up ranch owners and local
people, with Colonel Baldwin in com
mand, and that's all. The colonel is
a fighting man, a!! right, and he can
shoot as straight as anybody, when
you have shown him what to shoot at.
But he is outclassed, like all the rest
■>f us, when it comes to a game of finan
cial freeze-out. And that is what we
are-up against, Fm afraid."
"There isn't the slightest doubt In
the world about that." said the one
who had been called in as an expert.
"W hat I can't understand is why some
of you didn't size the situation up
long ago—before it got into its pres
ent desperate shape. You are at the
beginning of the end now. They've
caught you with an empty treasury,
and these stock sales you speak of
prove that they have already begun
to swallow you by iitlles. Timanyoni
common—I suppose you haven't any
preferred—at thirty-nine is an excel
lent gamble for any group of men who
can see their way clear to buying the
control. With an eager market for the
water—and they can sell the water to
you people, even if they don't put
their own Escalante project through—
I he stock can be pushed to par and
beyond, as it will be after you folks
are all safely frozen out. More than
that, they can charge you enough, for
the water you've got to have, to finance
the Escalante scheme and pay all the
bills; and their investment, at the
Present market, will be only thirtv
* »'ne cents in the dollar. It's a neat
little play."
I
j
I
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in
a
To
his
Williams was by this time far past
remembering that his adviser was a
man with a possible alias aud presum
ably a fugitive from justice.
"Can't something be done, Smith?
You've had experience in these things;
your tnik shows it Have we got to
stand still and be shot to pieces?"
"The necessity remains to be dem
onstrated. But you will be shot to
pieces, to a dead moral certainty, if
you don't pnt somebody on deck with
the necessary brains, and do it quick
ly, said Smith with frank bluntness.
"Hold on," protested the engineer.
"Every man to his trade. When I said
that we had nobody but the neighbors
and our friends in the company, I
didn't mean to give the impression
that they were either dolts or chuckle
heads. As a matter of fact, we have
a pretty level-headed bunch of men in
Timanyoni Ditch—though I'll admit
that some of them are nervous enough,
just now, to want to gi t out on almost
any terms. What I meant to say was
that they don't happen to be up in all
the Crooks and turnings of the high- ]
finance buccaneers."
"I didn't mean to reflect upon
Colonel Baldwin and his friends," re
joined the ex-cashier good-naturedly.
It is nothing especially discrediting
to them that they are not up in all the
.A.-
'
J
V
y
ft.
#4
"Can't Something De Done, Smith?"
tricks of a trade which is not theirs.
The financing of a scheme like this has
come to be a business by itself, Mr.
Williams, and it is hardly to be ex
pected that a group of inexperienced
men could do it successfully."
The construction chief turned ab
ruptly upon his cost-cutter.
"Keeping in mind what you said a
few minutes ago about 'back numbers,'
•would it be climbing over the fence too
far for me to ask' if your experience
lias been such as woultl warrant you
in tackling a job of this kind?"
"That is a fair question, and I can
AQswer It straight," said the man un
JOHN SMITH HAS THE GOOD FORTUNE TO PLAY HERO TO
\ VERY PRETTY YOUNG LADY—HE IS OFFERED THE
JOB OF FIGHTING ENEMIES OF COL BLADWIN
Synopsis.—T. Montagu«
arii! Trust company, bach«-;
R; 'dander, heiress, is wr«>
Dunham, bis employe
accuser. Smith strik
state. Ho tui": up a
struct ion cam]) in the
job. lie S' on attracts
his air of high c
Smith,
ill! v
■r of the I,aver
■ lcr envase.] t,
■d of dishoi.es:
ne
r. am
1 11 rue
d to
he a
eapeg, ia t
es Di
i::ham,
, bun
es bin
l for (ie
train]
s<
- ti:m
* later
at an in
Rocky
■ moun
tains
and li
; John S:
» attc:
til ion i
beonu
se of i
:iis seen
The
dam
<'omp
any b,
in tiuai
lit, te
Ils Sn;
;ith h
is trou
tiles.
ville Bank
tarry Venia
by Wat rous
the crm ;
life
id at
nitration dam con
dtli y. ts a rough
ive manner and
ia! straits, and
der fire. "I've laid the experience."
"I thought so. If tlie colonel should
ask you ti>, would you consider as a
possibility the taking of the doctor's
job on this sick project of ours?"
"No," was the brief rejoinder.
"Why not?"
Smith looked away out of the one
square window in the shack at the
busy scene on the dam stagings.
"Because I'm not exactly a born sim
pleton. Mr. Williams. There are a
I number of reasons which are purely
j personal to me, and at least one which
I cuts ice on your side of the pond. Your
! financial 'doctor,' as you call him.
would have to bo trusted absolutely in j
the handling of the company's money i
and its negotiable securities. You
could, and should, put him under a
fairly heavy bond. I'll not go into it
any deeper than to say that I can't
give a bond. ' j
Williams took his defeat, if it could j
be called a defeat, without further j
protest. j
"I thought it might not be amiss to i
talk it over with you," he said. "You
say :t is impossible, and perhaps it is.
;
But it won't do any harm fur you to
think it over, and if I were you, I
shouldn't burn all the bridges behind
me."
Smith went back to his work in the
quarry with a troubled mind. The
little heart-to-lioart talk with Williams
had been sharply depressive. It had
shown him, as nothing else could, how !
limited for all the remainder of iiis life !
his chances must be. That he would j
be pursued, that descriptions and pho-j
tographs of the ex-cashier of the Law- j
renceville Bank and Trust company j
were already circulating from hand to
hand among the paid man-catchers, he ,
did not doubt for a moment. While* he j
could remain as a workman unit in an j
isolated construction camp, there was j
some little hope that he might be over
looked. But to become the public char
ncter of Williams' suggestion in a
peopled city was to run to meet his
fnte* #ie
t!
It Is said that the flow of a mighty
river may owe its most radical change
in direction to the chance thrusting of 1
a twig into the current'at some critical
instant in the rise or full of the flood.
To the reincarnated Smith, charting
his course upon the conviction that his
best chance of immunity lay in isola
tion and a careful avoidance of the
peopled towns, came the diverting twig
iu this wise.
On the second morning following the
unotilcinl talk with Bartley Williams
in the iron-sheeted headquarters office
at the dam, a delayed consignment of
cement, steel and commissary supplies
was due at the sidetrack a mile below
the camp. Perkins, the timekeeper,
called Smith from the quarry and gave
him the Invoices covering the ship
ment.
"I guess you'd better go down to
the siding and check this stuff in, so
that we'll know what we're getting,"
was his suggestion to the general util
ity man.
When the erookings of the tote-road
let Smith get his first sight of the side
track, he saw that the train was al
ready in. A few minutes sufficed for
the checking. lie sent the unloading
gang back to camp with the teams, j
meaning to walk back himself after he
should have seen the car of steel and |
two cars of cement kicked in at j
the upper end of the sidetrack. j
While ho was waiting for the train |
to pull up anil make tlie shift, he was
commenting idly upon the clumsy lay
out of the temporary unloading yard,
and wondering if Williams were re
sponsible for it. The siding was on
tlie outside of a curve and within a j
hundred yards of the ri\er bank, j
There was scanty space for the unload
ing of material, and a good bit of what
there was was taken up by the curv
ing spur which led off from the siding
to cross the river on a trestle, and by
ihe wagon road itself, which came
down a long hill on the south side of
the railroad and made an abrupt turn
to cross the main track ami the siding
it;
in
of
fairly in the midst of things.
As the long train pulled up to clear
the road crossing. Smith stepped back
and stood between the two tracks. A
moment later the cut was made, and
the forward section of the train went
on to set the three loaded cars out at
the upper switch, leaving the rear half
standing on the main line.
One of the men of the unloading
gang, a leather-faced grade shoveler
who had helped to build the Nevada
Shore Line, had lagged behind the de
parting wagons to fill and light his
pipe.
"Wouldn't that jar you up right good
and hard f'r a way to run a railroad."
he said to Smith, indicating the wholly
deserted standing section of tlie freight
with the burnt match-end. "Them fel
lies 've all gone off up ahead, a-leaviu'
this yore hind end without a sign of
a man 'r a flag to take keer of it."
Smith was listening only with the
outward ear to what the pipe-lighter
was saying. Somewhere in the west
ward distances a thunderous murmur
was droning upon the windless air of
the June morning. A big gray auto
a
one
the
a
mobile, with the cut-out open, was top
ping the sale-hill grade, and Smith roc
ognized it at once. It was Colonel Dex
ter Baldwin's roadster, and it held a
young
single occupant—namely, the
woman who was driving it.
Turning to look up the track, he saw
that the three loaded cars had been
set out, and the forward section of the
train was now backing to make the
coupling with the standing half. He
hoped that the trainmen had seen the
automobile, and that they would not
attempt to make the coupling until
alter the gray car hail cr >sscd behind
the caboose. But in the same breath
in j he guessed, and guessed rightly, that'
i they were too far around the curve to j
be able to see the wagon-road ap
a proacli.
it Smith saw the young woman check
the speed for the abrupt turn at the
j bottom of the hill, saw the car take the
j turn in a skidding slide, heard the ro
j newed roar of the motor as the throttle
j was opened for a run at the embank
to i ment grade. Then the unexpected
dropped its bomb. There was a jail
filing clash and the cars on the main
track were set in motion. The train
men had tailed to make their coupling,
and the rear half of the train was surg
ing down upon the crossing.
Smith's shout, or the sight of the on
ooming train, one of the two, or both,
; ut the finishing touch < n the young
woman's nerve. There was still time
re train, but at the
young woman
er mind and triei
to
I
! in which to clear ;
! critical instant th<
j parently changed :
to stop the big car short of tin
j mg. The effort was unsuccessful,
j When the stop was made, the front
wheels of the roadster were precisely
, in the middle of the main track, and
j the motor was killed,
j By this time Smith had thrown his
j coat away and was racing the backing
train, with the ex-grade-laborer a poor
second a dozen yards to the rear. Hav
ing ridden in the roadster, Smith knew
(hat it had no self-starter, "Jump!"
#ie yelled. "Oct out of the car!" and
j then his heart came into his mouth
I when he saw that she was struggling
1 to free herself and couldn't; that she
was entangled in some way behind the
low-hung tiller wheel.
Smith was running fairly abreast of
the caboose when he made this discov
ery, and tlie hundred feet of clearance
had shrunk to fifty. In imagination
he could already see the gray car over
turned and crushed under the wheels
of tlie train. In a flying spurt he
gained a few yards on the advancing
menace and hurled himself against
the front of the stopped roadster. He
did not attempt to crank the motor.
There was time only for a mighty
heave and shove to send (he car back
ing down the slope of the crossing
approach ; for this and for the quick
spring aside to save himself; and the
thing was done.
to
of
he
the
j
CHAPTER VI.
A Notice to Quit.
Once started and given its push, the
gray roadster drifted backward from
the railroad crossing and kept on until
it came to rest in the sag at the turn
in the road. Itunning to overtake it.
Smith found that the young woman
was still trying ineffectually to free
| herself. In releasing the clutch her
j dress had been caught, and Smith was
j glad enough to let tlie extricating of
| the caught skirt and the cranking of
the engine serve for a breath-catching
recovery.
When he stepped back to "tune" the
spark the young woman had subsided
into the mechanician's scat and was
j retying her veil with fingers that were
j not any too steady. She was small
but well-knit; her hair was a golden
brown and there was a good deal of
it; her eyes were set well apart, and
in the bright morning sunlight they
were a slaty gray--of the exact shade
of the motor veil she was rearranging.
Smith had a sudden conviction that he
had seen the wide-set eyes before; also
the straight little nose and the half
boyish mouth and chin, though where
lie had seen them the conviction could
give no present hint.
"I sup-pup-suppose I ought to say
something appropriate," she was be
ginning, half breathlessly, while Smith
stood at the fender and grinned.
"You don't have to say anything. It's
been a long time since I've had a
chance to make such a bully grand
stand play as this." And then : j
"You're Colonel Baldwin's daughter, ;
aren't you?"
She nodded, saying:
"IIow did you know?"
"I know the car. And you have your j
father's eyes."
She did not seem to take it amiss !
that he was making her eyes a basis I
I
j
er comparisons. She was her father's
only son. as well as his only daughter,
nnd she dlvided her tirae Pretty evenly
of
„ , . . . ,
lou have introduced me; wo-won't by
you introduce yourself?" she said, j ej«
when a second crash of the shifting
STÄ" T
in trying to live up to both sets of re
quirements.
"I'':: not
the nav
j bas g
while
ranch
that there
"I'm Smith." he told her; addir
'It's my real name."
Her laugh was an ic>-'a
if tensions.
"oh, yes; you're Mr. Wif
'1st ant. I've heard colon
nth -r, speak of you."
I uied in blunt
iams' assistant
oesn't say so.
II me ';i:e Ho!
woman had ;
'■gained whatever small f r
eli'-posse-csion »lie narrow e
hockt
"Are they never going t
liserablc train out of the
xelaimed. "I've got to s<
and there isn't a
Colonel-.; a —I mean my father,
tie up to Red Butte, and a little I
igo they telephoned over to the I
I trouble at the dam."
"You won't find Williams
earup. He started out
at the
arly this morn- j
ing beyond Little creek, and said he i
wouldii t be back until some time to- I
morrow. V» ill you tell me what you're '
needing?"
"Oil.'" she exclaimed, with a little
gasp of disappointment, "I've simply
M illiams—or some
any
"Then I'll tell you what Mr. Martin
telephoned. lie said that three men
wi-re going to pretend to re!
j body! Do you happen to
tiling about the lawsuit troubi.-
"I know ail about them- Wilhams
j has told me."
in
t'l.-tr
Mi
W:
; ; -r olhce to
to be some :
wa
TO
find
the
ro
-<■
4*
n
?»
A
-Jr»
Os
*
Time Only for a Mighty Heave.
mining claim in the hills back of the
dam, somewhere near the upper end
of the reservoir lake-that-is-to-be.
They're doing it so that they can get
out an injunction, or whatever you
'•all it. and then we'll have to buy them j
off. as the others have been bought 1
off."
Smith was by this time entirely fa
miliar with the maps and profiles and
other records of the ditch company's
lands and holdings.
j
"All tin» land within the limits of the i
flood level has been bought and paid !
for—some of it more than once, hasn't !
it?" he asked. j
"Oh, yes; hut that doesn't make any !
difference. These men will claim that !
their location was made long ago, and j
that they are just now getting ready j
to work it. It's often done in the case j
of mining claims."
"When is all this going to happen?" j
he inquired.
"It is already happening," she broke j
out impatiently. "Mr. Martin said \
the three men left town a little after
daybreak and crossed on the Brewster j
bridge to go up on the other side of i
tlie Timanyoni."
The young woman hail taken her
place again behind the big tiller wheel
I and Smith calmly motion--d her out
of it. I
"Take the other seat and lot mo get
in hero." he said; an^ when she had
changed over, he swung in behind the
wheel and put a foot on the clutch
pedal.
j
;
j
!
I
"What are you going to do?" she
asked. j
"I'm going to take you on up to the j
camp, and then, if you'll lend me this :
car. I'll go and do what you hoped to j
persuade Williams r>> do—run those
mining-claim jokers into the tall tim
ber."
"But you can't!"she protested; "you !
cant do it alone! And, besides, they 1
arc on the other side of the river, and |
you can't get anywhere with the car. !
^ ou'll have to go all the way back to j
Brewster to get across the river!" I
It was just here that he stole an- j
"ther glance at the very-much-alive |
little face behind the. motor veil; at
the linn, round chin and the resolute
slaty-gray eyes.
"I suppose I ought to take you to
the camp," he said. "But you may go
along with me, if you want to— au<l
are not afraid."
Fhe laughed in his fivce.
Smith shews his real character
to Colonei Baldwin's daughter_
something of the fierce brute na
ture that is alive in him. There's
a real fight described in the next
instailment.
(.TO Bl-t CONTi.Vi'Kl).
Interna! Heat of Planets.
The late Professor Lowell's discov
cry that Saturn does not rotate as one
piece, but has "coniocai lave-s rotat«
ing faster within." suggests that some
of the other large planets may have
the Same structure. As pointed out
by Professor Verv, the friction of lay
ej« s 0 f different velocities would gen»
L-rate heat, anil thus retard the cool
lïSeS 01 "* *""*-* d '««*
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Iky in
if
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m
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mm.
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Sweaters and Sweater-Coats
j
1
1 be sweater coat has become an in
stitution as permanently placed iu the
wardrobe of the modern woman as the
shirtwaist and the blouse are. It
started its eareer as a matter-of-fact
garment devoted to comfort alone, bat
lias become as much diversified as
blouses are, and style is an important
element that enters into its make-up
every season. It continues to flourish
on the strength of being both comfort
able and smart.
Sweaters this season, shown in silk
and iu wool, also in fiber silks in groat
variety, are made mostly in two-color
combinations. Many of them arc knit
ted to conform to the figure rather
5nu «*. v ! 't the waistline, and equally as
many depend upon a sash or belt, like ;
«"'eater, to give them a little deli
nition of the waist. Nearly all of them
rather ample collars and many—
aInon S them some of the finest mod
els — are furnished with pockets,
The slip-on sweater is one of the
sweater successes of this particular
season. Its name signifies that it has
no front opening, but slips on over the
head, and it is made with and without
a sash and pockets; the silk models
being usually provided with these ex
U™ furnishings. The coat sweater is j
shown in the picture with collar and
cuffs in a color oAtrasting with the
body of the garnen* It is of silk knit
ted with a heavy thread.
In colors there is a wide and beau
H
.....
nah
—
Pick-Up Work for Summer Days
The good old summer time brings
nothing more delightful or worth while-j
; than the neighborly gatherings of worn- !
! en on sheltered porches and in shaded
j corners of the garden, to work and vis
I it. It is not fashionable to be idle and, !
j even if it were, the good sense of the!
majority of American women would :
make them go on their industrious way
rejoicing—much hapi«ier than their
less independent sisters.
.Just now everyone- can visit with a
clear conscience if work for the sol- ;
«liers and sailors goes on at the same !
time. This is one kind of "pick-up" j
work that the times make most popu
lar. Then there are gifts for gradu
ates and brines who are entitled to j
their usual consideration. So those !
who can knit may go armed with knit- j
ting needles and yarn and spend the !
time making mufflers or socks for tin*
army and navy, and those who can't
will be indulged in the privilege of
making jp.fu for friends. It is nut o,y
tiful range to choose from, combine«!
with white, with either the color or
white dominant, according to the taste
of the wearer. She may choose among
turquoise, peach, nile g#een, rose, tan,
royal blue, orange, water blue, violet
and yellow—all have their devotees.
Dur Food Supply and Our Allies
Every one of us must share, whether
we will or not, in the burden of the
cost of the war. The common-sense
thing to do is to determine now liow
we can help lighten this burden for
ourselves and for others who are al
ready carrying about as much as they
can bear. There are many well-to-do
fllIin ,
f "" ,l,eS ewr> Wmnun,t >' w,m i,r '
enough
not inconvenienced by the increased
prices of foodstuffs, but this burden
bears heavily on their poorer neigh
bors. Therefore It is the duty of the
well-to-do to economize in food and to
forbid all waste of it in their house
holds, in order to make it more plenti
ful for others.
This year America mu.% feed itseir
and share its food with all its allies,
and tlie chances are that prices will
soar again. There may not be just
to go all round, and some
people will then go hungry. It is un
patriotic and unchristian to waste fo.st
now, and ««very housewife cun host
show her patriotism by conserving it
in every way known to her.
!
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^»n to begin getidng ready for Christ,
mas time.
By way of suggestion, two pr. tty nc
cessor.es of dress made of ribbon are
pictured here. One of them Isa br..,k
tust cap of white satin ribbon and
bite crochet lace that will rejoice the
art of ..ay hn.k-to-be, when ad*««!
° h< : rf> ;' SUr "S of her hope Clot. It
K Pushed With a full rosette
p ow satin ribbon, % „d it is v ,
and effi^etive in all white.
The corset cover is
"rod ribbon with
I'a Jground. vaguç roses in light coral
The o \ , r m ' s in il soft ' »«lit sreen.
Humidor straps are of narrow sat
n ribbon m the same lovely yt .„ow
orse L covers of ribbon or silk wer
ue\er quite so acceptable as gifts a s
(hey are now that blouses are mor.
uU of sheerest fabrics, for them
ot nar
ry rich
made of tlc.iv
Pale corn-colored