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QISMBBBBaBRn y y 1. MB TTÜT* r "* < TT' M W W I I — ... ........ ^ irar.jv*. •»- ' an a a—m oHaaK ••»»»*- KKuctik-a. »K.sujiai.aj: æsssacs «Oi ç S bÿrtïB L'f V KrB % 1 *\ I} ■vn \l H Fl (Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons) CHAPTER XIV— Continued. —11— Stanton wits still wrestling with liis problem when the "handsome couple" returned from tie* play. The trust field captain saw them as they crossed I he lobby to the elevator and again marked the little evidences of familiar ity. "That settles it," he mused, with an ontthrust of the pugnacious jaw. "She knows more about Smith than anybody else in this neck of woods— »nd she's got it to tell !" Stanton began his inquisition for bet ter information the following day, with the bejewelled lady for his ally. Miss Hichlander was alone and unfriended In the hotel—and also a little bored. Hence she was easy of approach; so easy that by luncheon time the sham promoter's wife was able to introduce her husband. Stanton lost no moment Investigative. For the inquiring pur pose, Smith was made to figure as a business acquaintance, and Stanton was generous in his praises of the young man's astounding financial abil Ity. "He's simply a wonder. Miss Rich lander !" he confided over the luncheon table. "Coming here a few weeks ago, absolutely unknown, he has already be come a prominent man of afTair.s in Brewster. And so discreetly reticent! To this good «lay nobody knows where be comes from, or anything about him." "No?" said Miss Verda. "How sin gular!" Rut she did uot volunteer to supply any of the missing biographical facts. , "Absolutely nothing," Stanton went on smoothly. "And, of course, his si lence about himself has been grossly misinterpreted. I have even heard it said that he is an escaped convict." "How perfectly absurd !" was the smiling comment. "Isn't it? But you know how people will talk. They are saying now that his name isn't Smith; that he has merely taken the commonest name in tlie category as an alias." "I can contradict that, anyway," Miss Richlundcr offered. "His name is really arid truly John Smith." "You have known him a long time, liaven't you?" inquired the lady with •tie headlight diamonds. "Oli, yes; for quite a long time, in deed." "That was back in New York state?" deed." "That was back in New York state?" Stanton slipped in. "In the East, yes. He comes of an exeel lent family. His father's people a were well-to-do farmers, and one of his t .great-uncles on his mother's side was on the supreme bench in our state; he f was chief justice during the later years fa of his life." j "What state did you say?" queried j Stanton craftily. But Miss Verda was Jar too wide-awake to let him surprise her. "Our home state, of course. I don't j ]j hflieve any member of Mr. Smith's •immediate family on either side has ever moved out of it." Stanton gave it up for the time be ing, and was convinced upon two points. Smith might have business reasons for eecrecy—he might have backers who wished to remain completely unknown In their fight against the big land trust ; but if he had no backers the « ii m Ï "—he Is an Escaped Convict." other hypothesis clinched itself instant ly—he was in hiding; he had done something from which he had run away. It was not until after office hours that Stanton was able to reduce his equation to its simplest terms, and it was Shaw, dropping in to make his re port after his first day's work as clerk and stenographer in the High Line headquarters, who cleared the air of at least oue fog bank of doubts. "I've been through the records and the stock-books," said the spy, when. In obedience to orders, he had locked the office door. "Smith is playing a lone hand. He flimflnmmed Kinzie for his first chunk of money, and after that it was easy. Every dollar invested in High Line has been dug up right here in the Tlmanyoni. Here's the list of stockholders." Stauton ran his eye down the string what to do with him." it!" he rasped; "and lie's Fuirbairn's | own son-in-law !" "So is Starbuck, for that matter; j and lie's in for twenty thousand," said j Shaw. "And. by the way, Hill is a man who will hear watching. Ile s hand-in-glove with Smith, and lie's onto all of our little crooks and turns. 1 heard him telling Smith today that he owed it to tiie company to carry a gun." Stanton's smile showed his teeth. "I wisli he would; carry one and kill somebody with it. Then we'd know a The spy was rolling a cigurette and his half-closed eyes had a murderous glint in them. | "Me, for instance?" he inquired cyn ically. "Anybody," said Stanton absently. He was going over the list of stock holders again and hud scarcely heard what Shaw had said. "That brings us down to business, Mr. Stanton," said the ex-railroad clerk slowly. "I'm not getting money enough out of this to cover the risk—my risk." The man at the desk looked up quickly. "What's that you say? By heavens, Shaw, I've spoken once, and I'll do It just this one time more: you sing small if you want to keep out of jail !" Shaw had lighted his cigarette and was edging toward the door. "Not this trip. Mr. Stanton," he said coolly. "If you've got me. I've got you. I can find two men who will go into court and swear that you paid I'et«* Simms money to have Smith sand bagged. that day out at Simms' place at the dam! I may have to go to jail, as you say; but I'll bet you five to one that you'll beat me to it!" And with j that he snapped the catch on the locked door and went away. Some three hours after this rather Some three hours after this rather hostile dash with the least trustwor thy but by far the most able of his henchmen, Crawford Stanton left his wife chatting comfortably with Miss Richlan«l(*r in the hotel parlors and went reluctantly to keep an appoint ment which he had been dreading ever it day: no why since tIn* earlv afternoon hour when a wire had come from Copah directing him to meet the "Nevada Flyer upon its arrival at Brewster. The public knew the name signed to the telegram as that of a millionaire statesman ; but Stanton knew it best as the name of a hard and not overscrupulous master. The train was whistling for the sta t j on w hen Stanton descended from his ca j) an( j hurried down the long plat f ürtn . \ white-jacketed porter was fa ulting to admit him to the presence j when the train came to a stand; and as j ie into the vestibule of the luxurious private car. Stanton got what comfort he could out of the thought that the interview would necessarily be j ]j m ited by the ten minutes' engine changing stop of the fast train, Stanton, ten mindtes later, made a rlid 1 took tnr« ! tild She the flying leap from the moving train. At the cab rank he found the motor cab which he hud hired for the drive down from the hotel. Climbing in. he gave a brittle order to the chauffeur. Simul taneously a man wearing the softest of hats lounged away from his post of observation under a nearby electric pole and ran across the railroad plaza to unhitch and mount a wiry little cow pony. Once in the saddle, however, the mount«*d man did not hurry his horse. Having overheard Stanton's order giving, there was no need to keep the motor cab in sight as It sputtered through the streets and out upon the backgrounding mesa, its ill-smelling course ending at a lonely roadhouse in the mesa hills on the Topaz trail. When the hired vehicle came to a stand in front of the lighted barroom of the roadhouse, Stanton gave a wait ing order to the driver and went in. Of the dog-faced barkeeper he asked an abrupt question, and at the man's | jerk*'of a thumb toward the rear, the promoter passed on and entered the private room at the back. The private room had but one occu pant—the man Lanterby, who was sit ting behind a round card table and In up let A me vou the of vainly endeavoring to make one of the pair of empty whisky ; lasses spin in a complete circuit about a black botth* standing on the table. Thp h[red car was st m waiting when stanton W ent out through the barroom ^ gaye the driver hi s return orders. And, because the night was dark, nei Qf tfae two at the car saw the man ^ goft faat stra i g hten himself up it hig crouc hing place under the a in of backroom window and vanish silently in the gloom. CHAPTER XV. A Night of Fiascos. Smith had seen nothing of Miss Richlander during the day, partly be cause there was a forenoon meeting of j the High Line stockholders called for j the purpose of electing him secretary and treasurer in fact of the company. | and partly because the major portion of the afternoon was spent in confer ence with Williams at the dam. Returning from the dam site quite late in the evening. Smith spent a hard | j j working hour or more at his desk in iln* Ktnzie building offices ; and il was here that Starbuck found him. "What?" said Hie new secretary, looking up from his work when Star buck's wiry figure loomed in the door way, "1 thought you wen* once more a family man, and had cut out the night prowling." Starbuck jackknifed himself com fortably in a chair. j j of Rut the little girl's run ! "I was. away again; gone with her sister Maxwell's wife, you know—to Denver to get lier teeth fixed; and I'm foot loose. Been hutting in a little on your game, this evening, just to he doing. How's tricks with you, now?" "We're strictly in the fight," de lared Smith enthusiastically. "We losed the deal today for the last half mile of the main ditch right of way, which puts us up on the mesa slope above the Escalante grant. If they knock us our now, they'll have to do it with dynamite." "Yes." said the ex-cowman, thought fully; "with dynamite." Then: "How is Williams getting along?" "Fine! The water Is crawling up on him a little every night, but with no accidents, he'll lie able to hold the flood rise when it comes. The only thing that worries me now is the time limit." "The time limit?" echoed Starbuck. "What's that?" "It's the handicap we inherit from the original company. Certain state rights to the water were conveyed in the old charter, on condition that the project should be completed, or at least be far enough along to turn water into tin* ditches, by a given date. This time limit, which carries over from Timan | j yoni Ditch to Timanvoni High Line, [expires next week. We're petitioning for an extension, but if we don't get th. it we shall still be able to bad water up s.» that it will flow int< ImviT level of ditches by next T day: that is, barring accidents." "Yes; with no accidents." mused Starbuck. "Can't get shut of the 'if.' no way nor shape, can we? So that's why the Stanton people have been so wolttslily for delay, is it ; uirs fightin John, this is a wicked, wicked world. switched abruptly. Then tit* switched abruptly. "Where rlid you corral all those good looks you 1 took to the opera house last night. John?" Smith's laugh was strictly perfunc tnr« Miss Vera Richlander. an ! "That was Miss Vera Richlander. an tild friend of mine from back home. , j ! She is out here with her father, and ; the father has gone up into the Topaz l country to buy him a gold brick." j p , "Not in the Topaz, Starbuck struck , loyally. "We don't make the bricks | In up there—not the phony kind. But let that go and tell me something cist*. A while back, when you were giving me a little song and dance about the colonel's daughter, you mentioned an other woman—though not by name, if vou happen to recollect. I was just wondering if this Miss Rich-people, nr whatever her name is, might be the other one." Again the new secretary laughed— this time without embarrassm«*nt. "You've cail(*d the turn, Billy. She is the other one." "H'm; chasing you up?" "Oh, no; it was just one of the near-miracles. She «lidn't know I was here, and I had no hint that she was coming." "All right ; it's your roast ; not mine. But I'm going to pull one chestnut out of the fire for you, even if I do get my fingers burned. This Miss Rich folks has had only one day here in Brewster, but she's used it in getting mighty chummy with the Stantons. Does that figure as news to you?" "It does," said Smith simply: and he added: "I don't understand it." "Funny," remarked the ex-cowman. "It didn't hall me up for more than a minute or two. Stanton fixed it some way—because he needed to. Tell me something, John; could this Miss Rich- ! it. it. a ! , . - » • garden help Stanton out in any of bis ,*1.1 . _____ « notion? ' little schemes, if she took a notion? Smith turned away and stared at the blackened square a of outer darkness lying beyond the office window. ' "She could, Billy—but she won't," he answered. "You can dig up your last dollar and bet on that, can you?" "Yes, I think I can." "H'm; that's just what I was most afraid of." "Don't be an ass, Billy." "I'm trying mighty hard not to be. of j you !' " j Smith's grin was half antagonistic, "You are an ass. Billy," he asserted, | **i never was in love with Verda Rich lander, nor she with me." John, but sometimes the ears will grow i on the best of us—in spite of the devil. What I mean is this: I saw you two when you came out of the Hophra ilining room together last night, and I saw the look in that girl's eyes. Do you know what I said to myself right then, John? I said: 'Oh, y«>u little giil out at the Hillcrest ranch— good-by, Speak for yourself and let it hang there, John. You can't speak for the woman—no man ever can. W hat I m honing now is that she doesn't know 1! anything about you that Stanton could make use of." Again the High Line's new secretary turned to stare at the black back grounded window. j "You mean that she might hear of— j of Miss Corolla?" lie suggested. "You've roped it down, at least," said the friendly enemy. "Stanton'll tell her—he'll t«'ll her anything and every thing that might make her turn loose ! any little bit of information she mii v have about you. As I said a minut ago, I'm hoping she hasn't got anything on you, John." Smith was still facing th** window when he repli«*«!. "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. Starbuck. What j Miss Richlander could do to me, if she | chooses, would be good and plenty." j The ex-cowboy mine owner drew a j long breath and felt for his tobacco j sack and rice paper. "All of which opens up more talk j trails," he said thoughtfully. "Since j you wouldn't try to take care of your- j self, and since your neck happens to j be the most valuable asset Timanyon* ; •Stanton Fixed It Some Way." ! j : ! ! High I.in«* has. just at present. I'vm been hutting in. as T tnld you. Listen to my tale of woe. if you haven't any- j tiling better to do. Besides the Miss ; Ricli-ranches episode there art* a couple of others. Want to hear about 'em?" Smith nodded. "All right. A little while past din nor this evening. Stanton had a hurry call to meet the 'Nevada Flyer.' Tailed ! dll IU Hirt I I m oQto the train there was a private lux ufy Cftr an( , |n the priV att' car sat a j p ,, nt j eni ' an whose face you've seen ar Jet'll l 111 till « n"* 1 ' * ** v ^ *' , . nty of times in t he political c 1(Mms ' usual]v w ith cuss-words un ! under it. He is one of Stanton's bosses; anti Stanton was in for a wigging—and got it. I couldn't hear, hut I could se«*— through the car window. He had Stan ton standing on one foot before the train pulled out and let Crawford make his get-away. You guess, and I'll guess, and we'll both say it was about this Escalante snap which is aiming to be known as the Escalante fizzle. Ain't it the truth?" Again Smith nodded, and said, "Go on." j "After number five hail gone Stanton broke for his autocab, looking like he could bite a nail in two. I happened to hear the order he gave the shover. | ami I had my cayuse hitched over at Bob Sharkey's joint. Naturally, I a milled along after Crawford, and while I didn't heat him to it. I got i there soon enough. It was out at Jeff Barton's roadhouse on the Topaz trail. : •md Stanton was shut up in the buck ! room with a sort of tin-horn 'bad man' | named Lanterby." ! "You listened?" said Smith still without eagerness. "Right you are. And they fooled me. Two schemes were on tap: tine point ing at Williams anti tin* (lain, and the other at you. These were both last resorts;' Stanton said ht* had ont* mort string to pull first. If that broke— SI riliu II» I Ml » I H» •* ..... lt | ia if „ dozen times ' * * ...... , already, John : you'll either have to hire a bodyguard «>r go heeled. I'm tolling you right here and now, that hunch is going to got you, even if it costs money !" "You say Stanton said he had one mort* string to pull : he «litln t give it a name, did lie?" "No, but I've got a notion of my own," was the ready answer. "He's trying to get next to you through th«* women, with tilt* Miss Rich-pasture for his can opener But when everything i e j ge f ai ] s he {s t(1 son d a password to Lanterby, one of two passwords. 'Williams' means dynamite and the dam; 'Jake' means the removal from the map of a fellow named Smith. Nice prospect, isn't it?" (TO BE CONTINUED.) I Sad News. "The expectant heir to his uncle 3 millions, anxiously asked the doctor when liis uncle was taken ill, if there was no hope." "What did the doctor say?" "He told him there was no hope whatever. The chances were nis uncle would get well enough to mart,« his housekeeper. p i m m Vi mm yil & MARY GRAMM KMfk BRAVE MOCKING BIRD. 1! v 'I have a ■ning. children.' '«•king bird. •Mr. Mitchell M im* and he was : of children. Th is add speak n Mi :> tell you this said 1 »tidily, "ot a eking Bird was liis pet in u large fnm y all loved him and good many words, • so many fact Mitchell was very accom ■d und he knew a great many fine j | j j j j j j j and he could sing lik. birds. "In plisin tricks. "Whenever the children wanted to give a circus. Mi'ohdl was their best performer and he was very proud of standing on a little platform and mak ing a bow and then doing his different trieks. "He shrieked with delight when the children clapped him and he was al ways extremely happy on circus day! "lie had never been to a real circus, of course, but he loved the home circus days and lie used to like to watch the children act too. "lie would put his head from one side to the other, as much as to say, 'That is a very nice trick.' And when It was all over he would «'ill! shrilly and say.'Hoodie ! Goodie" "Mitchell was allowed n great deal of freedom. He had been hurt when he was very small and the children had nursed him hack to strength and health, and he had never left them. One of his wings had never grown quite well and Iip couldn't fly a great deal, hut he wandered about ns he th , wanted to. "Tie had a nice, rnmfortnble cage In j the «lining room and he always slept j there at night. "He never made any noise In the morning until the family got up. He kept absolutely quite until then. And yet. after the family were up. he made a great deal of noise for he felt just like It In the mornings. "One night, though, Mitchell began to scream. How he did yell ! Pierc ing yells went all through the house! ! And he hurried from one bedroom to j another. He awoke the mother and daddy of the children first and then he woke up th«* children. "'Com«*!' he called. Tt was a word h«* could say. and In* kept repeating it over and over again. "'Point*! Pom«*! Porn«*!' And they all hurried, one after the other, ami : followed the mocking bird downstair*. ! "What should they see but a tiny blaze, which every few minutes s ■tuned to grow and splutter and hurst ! into a bigger flame. j '"Water! Everyone get water!' : ; (shouted the children's daddy, and the j mocking bird kept calling: " 'Come !' "They were all thoroughly fright ened but they kept their wits about ! I ! ; ; i ; ! j ; I [ i i : j i ; j •What a Brave Bird You Are! them and kept filling buckets and Jugs of water which they poured over the flame. "After a little while It was out. But the whole of the couch In the dining room had been spoiled both by flames and water. i "'Oh, If that had spread,' shivered the children's mother. 'All around are : things which would have caught afire, And I was sleeping so soundly.' | '"We were sleeping soundly, too,' ! s" 1 ' 1 ,h<> chiklron ' j ; the - ' in I ; fin ■ j ! the the a a ful j j | i ! i 1 I a : j j j 1 I .. "Who can tell ' " T never even smelt smoke,' said their daddy. "The mocking bird looked all tired out. His eves blinked ns If he could hardly keep awake, ami it was just then that everyone of them noticed him. " 'Mitchell, you have saved the house nnd our lives. That fire would hnve spread and goodness only knows what would have happened.' said their daddv. 'What a fine, brave bird you àre.' "And the children stroked Mitchell ; and said : " 'Fine, brave bird. Daddy says so, ton! Our lovely Mitchell Mocking Bird.' "Mitchell was almost asleep. The fin* was out. Tie had finished his work. [ lb* was ready tn rest now. He didn't ( care about praise. But in* was happy ; that they all lov«*d him so. And how he cared for them. IT«* had saved them | and they knew it. He was very happy, j And in his own bird way he had ; thought all this out. "But to the great surprise of them nil, Mitchell said a word they had never known he could say. but it was Just tin* right one, 'Safe, all safe,' said Mitchell, as he went to sleep." Faith in Safety Pins. "There Is hut one thing in this world that we can put our faith and reliance in with confidence, children," snld th<* j Sunday school teacher, what it is?" "Safety pins," promptly answered a little girl. /~ c DIXIE Author of FAKTcW 5TPEAH GAT 1Eri5HM ?r live bait— the minnow. Mv dear Buck: For an all round live bait that has e reputation of bringing home the most any time during the open the minnow family, is a large tribe. th bacon. season, give us which, by the way. Some fishermen call any small fish a minnow, which is wrong, us the minnow family is u distinct line made up of over one hundred different species and and lakes have most small streams thirty species in their \va 1 the minnow in all d shiner from ten t. tors. You will fine sorts of places, the spot-tail«*«: mainly In the lakes, fullflsh m the large streams and chub in the smaller streams. The minnows taken from the rapid flowing waters and riffles make th.* sturdiest >*it and at the same time the liveliest as their constant fight with the swift current g.vos them , 1U)re "pep" than the minnow from the gravel-bars or the deeper, quieter j () j s j Try Out Different Minnows. : j ! in most all fishing waters some par I ticuiar minnow has the reputation «> ! being the one best bet and It is well ; to follow the dope of the local tisher ; men or guides, at the same time the i trying out of another specie may mean ; better fishing all the way around. For muskellunge, pike or pickerel ! the larger sized minnows, say about j eight to ten inches, are the best bait ; and it's a toss-up between the fall I fish creek or river chub, silver shiner. [ or black sucker. All of these baits are i fine lures for casting or trolling. For black bass the silver shiner or dace seems to be the minnow that i tickles his fancy and its silvery sides : make a great shining in dation under water. It is a good bait lor any time or condition of water ami is particu larly fine on dark and cloudy days or are mouth in rough water. River or creek chubs hardy minnows with a tough that holds well on the hook and tin* fact Unit they are more lively j than tlie sliiuer, makes them attrac i tive liait to m«*st fishermen. On bright ; days with clear and still water tlie j chub is second to none as a fish getter. Catfish and Perch as Bait, j Tin* small catfish called by some, ; the stonecat, mad-torn, bullhead or pout is a bait that will surprise the bass fisherman who has never used it. - Early and late in the season, young ' yellow perch can he used to advantage in lake fishing, however, to get the liest I results from the perch bait, the dorsal ; fin should be clipped off. This opera ■ tion does not Impair the vitality of the j yovng perch, if done quickly with a ! Bcissors, or a sharp knife. For bass or wall-eyed pike a min now four to five inches long Is about the right size. This sized minnow is livelier nnd will last much longer on the hook than the smaller ones. Even a small bass, a half pounder, will make a drive for this sized liait, while it is sure the happy medium for the old granddaddy who has a man's sized feed bag to fill. As a general thing the lnrge sizt'd bass like a good mouth ful and there is not much chance of using a minnow they cannot handle. How to Hook the Minnow. In baiting the hook with the min now, pass the hook through the lower lip and out the nostril or If the min now is of a large size, run the hook through bc.th lips. For still fishing where the water is quiet hook the minnow, if small, through the back, above the backbone and just behind the dorsal fin. Chubs and suckers can be hooked through both lips which are very strong on these species, With the proper care minnows can be kept in good shape for an indefinite period. In camp a permanent min now box should be sunk in the water along the shore of the stream or lake, nnd the bottom of the box filled with gravel nnd stones. Wire screen over both ends gives a steady r' mge of water. Always dip the mi ,ws into i the minnow bucket with a .mail dip net and don't handle them. Leave 1 that until you place them on the hook. It !s best to use a large sized minnow I bucket and if there is to hi* much of a carry, put a bunch of water weeds : in the pail, this saves them from in j Jury caused by rough tnnM. In cur rying minnows any distance don't crowd 'em, fifty to a five-gallon pail is plenty. A pinch of salt added to j the water once or twice during 'he j days fishing gives 'em life. <": nia* the water often, don't wait until tie* 1 minnows come to the top. 1 hat's ni. " it I the time they art* rendj to turn I * .!y up* A mighty good plan is t > * to along n small bicycle pump an i a t.* tlie wnter every now ami t! n by pumping air down into it. A goo*! plan t«» follow in changing tin* water in ,.........from ' Ü * lc, k'bt of say two or three feet, that carries air Into the water nnd >h** minnow sure needs air as well as u human being. DIXIE. [ ( ; | j ; ( .. ---- j ; -n-nnow pnil is to pour it