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The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, October 06, 1917, Image 5

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The Real Man
By FRANCIS LYNDE
(Copyright by Chas. Scribner's Sons)
CHAPTER XXIII
—17—
The Flesh-Pots of Egypt.
Convinced by Venin Richlander's
h i. phone inessa^- h. the construction
camp that lie stood in no immediate
danger. Smitlt spent the heel of the af
i( rnoon in the High Line offices, keep
in " il1 " iro i'*ueh witii Stillings,'whom
lie had sent on a secret mission to Red
I'.uit* . and with Williams at the dam.
1 he High Line enterprise was on the
knees of the gods. If Williams could
pull through in time, if the river-swell
ing Storms should hold off. if Stanton
should delay his final raid past the
critical hour—and there was now good
ieason to hope that all ot' these con
tingencies were probable— the victory
was practically won.
Smith closed his desk at six o'clock
and went across to the hotel to dress
for dinner. The day of suspense was
practically at an end and disaster still
held aloof; was fairly outdistanced in
the race, as it seemed. Williams' final
report had been to the effect that the
concrete-pouring was completed, and
the long strain wus off. Smith went
to his rooms, and, as once before and
for a similar reason, he laid his dress
clothes out on the bed. He made sure
ihat he would be required to dine with
\ erda Richlander, and he wus strip
ping his coat when he henrd a tap at
the door and Jibhey came in.
•'Glad rags, eh?" said the blase one.
with a glance at the array on the bed.
"I've just run up to tell you that you
needn't. Verda's dining with the
Stantons, and she wants me to keep
yon ont of sight until afterward. Ity
and by. when she's foot-loose, she
wants to see you in the mezzanine.
Isn't there some quiet little joint
where we two can go for a bite? You
know the town, and I don't."
Smith put his coat on. and together
they circled the square to Frascati's,
taking a table in the main cafe.
While they were giving their dinner
order, Starbuck came in and joined
them, and Smith was glad. For rea
sons which he could scarcely have de
fined. he was relieved not to have to
talk to Jlhbey alone, and Starbuck
played third hand admirably, taking
kindly to the sham black sheep, and
tilling him up. In quiet, straight-faced
humor, with many and most marvel
ous tales of the earlier frontier.
At the end of the meal, while .1 ih
1>ev was still content to linger. listen
ing open-monthed to Starbuck's ro
mancings, Smith excused himself and
returned to the hotel. He had scarce
ly chosen his lounging chair in a
quiet comer of the mezzanine before
Miss Richlander came to join him.
"If has been a long day, hasn't it?"
she began evenly. "You have been
busy with your dam, I suppose, but
I—1 have had nothing to do but to
think, and that is something that I
don't often allow myself to do. You
have gone far since that night last
May when you telephoned me that you
would come up to the house later—and
then broke your promise, Montague."
"In a way, I suppose I have," he
admitted.
"You have, indeed. You are a to
tally different man."
"In what way, particularly?"
"In every conceivable way. If one
could believe in transmigration, one
would say that you had changed souls
with some old, hard-hitting, rough
riding ancestor. Have your ambitions
changed, too?"
"I am not sure now that I had any
ambitions in that other life."
"Oh, yes, you had." she went on
smoothly. "In the 'other life.' as you
call it, you would have been quite
willing to marry a woman who could
assure you a firm social standing and
money enough to put you on a footing
with other men of your capabilities.
You wouldn't be willing to do that
now. would you?—leaving the senti
ment out as you used to leave it out
then?"
"No, I hardly think I should
Her laugh was musically low and
sweet, and only mildly derisive,
"You are thinking that It is change
of environment, wider horizons, and
all that, which has changed you, Mon
tague; but I know better. It is a
woman, and, as you may remember, I
have met her—twice." Then, with
a faint glow of spiteful fire in the
magnificent eyes: "How can you make
yourself believe that she is pretty?"
He shrugged one shoulder in token
of the utter uselessness of discussion
in that direction.
"Sentiment?" he queried. "I think
we needn't go into thut, nt this late
day, Verda. It Is u field that neither
<*f us entered, or cared to enter. In
the days that are gone. If I say that
Oorona Baldwin has—quite uncon
sciously on her part, I must ask you
to believe — taught me what love
means, that ought to be enough."
Again she was laughing softly.
"You seem to have broadly forgot
ten the old proverb about a woman
scorned. What have you to expect
from me after making such an adinls
*lon as that?"
•Smith pulled himself together and
■tood the argument firmly upon its
unquestionable footing.
"Let us put all these Indirections
i
:
j
|
I
!
;
1
as
to
me
I
too
of
it
for
gets
he
of
eyes.
do
self.
place
you
aside and be for the moment merely
a man and a woman, as God made us.
\ erda, he said soberly. "You know,
and I know, that there was never any
question of love involved in our rela
tions past and gone. We might have
married, but in that case neither of us
would have got or exacted any
Ibing more than the conventional de
cencies and amenities. We mustn't
try to make believe at this late day.
You had no illusions about me when I
was Watrous Dunham's hired man;
you haven't uny illusions about me
now'."
"Perhaps not." was the calm rejoin
der. "And yet today I have lied to
save you from those who are trying
to crush you."
"I told you not to do thut," he re
joined quickly.
"I know you did ; and yet, when you
went away this morning you knew
perfectly well that I was going to do
it if I should get the opportunity.
Didn't you. Montague?"
He nodded slowly ; common honesty
demanded thut much.
"Very well; you accepted the serv
ice, and I gave it freely. Mr. Kinzie
believes now thut you are another
Smith—not the one who ran away
from Lawrenceville last May. Tell
me: would the other woman have done
as much if the chance had fallen to
her?"
It was on the tip of his tongue to
say, "I hope not," but he did not say
it. Instead, he said; "Rut you don't
really care. Verda ; in the way you are
trying to make me believe you do."
"Possibly not; possibly I am wholly
selfish in the matter and am only look
ing for some loophole of escape."
"Escape? From whom?"
She looked away and shook her
i head. "From Watrous Dunham, let
: u s say. You didn't suspect that, did
j you? It is so, nevertheless. My fa
| ther desires it; and I suppose Watrous
I Dunham would like to have my money
! —you know I have something in my
own right. Perhaps this may help to
account for some other things—for
your trouble, for one. You were in
his way, you see. But never mind
that : there are other matters to be
considered now. Though Mr. Kinzie
has been put off the track. Mr. Stan
ton hasn't. I have earned Mr. Stan
ton's ill-will because I wouldn't tell
him about you. and this evening, at
table, he took it out on me."
"In what way?"
"He gave me to understand, very
plainly, that he had done something;
that there was a sensation in prospect
for all Brewster. He was so exult
antly triumphant that it fairly fright
ened me. The fact that he wasn't
afraid to show some part of his hand
to me—knowing that I would be sure
to tell you—makes me afraid that the
trap has already been set for you."
"In other words, you think he has
gone over Kinzie's head and has tele
graphed to Lawrenceville?"
"Montague, I'm almost certain of
it!"
Smith stood up and put his hands
behind him.
"Which means that I have only a few
hours, at the longest," he said quietly.
And then: "There is a good bit to
be done, turning over the business of
the office, and all that: I've been put
ting it off from day to day, saying that
there would be time enough to set my
house In order after the trap had
been sprung. Now I am like the man
who puts off the making of his will
until it is too late. Will you let me
thank you very heartily and vanish?"
"What shall you do?" she asked.
"Set my house in order, as I say—
as well as I can in the time that re
mains. There are others to be con
sidered, you know."
"Oh ; the plain-faced little ranch
girl among them, I suppose?"
"No; thank God, she is out of it
entirely—In the way you mean," he
broke out fervently.
"You mean that you haven't spoken
to her—yet?"
"Of course I haven't. Do you sup
pose I would nsk any woman to marry
me with the shadow of the peniten
tiary hanging over me?"
"But you are not really guilty."
"That doesn't make any difference:
Watrous Dunham will see to it that
I get what he has planned to give me."
She was tapping an impatient tat
too on the carpet with one shapely
foot.
Why don't you turn this new leaf
of yours back and go home and fight
it out with Watrous Dunham, once
for all?", she suggested.
I shall probably go, fast enough,
when Macauley or one of his deputies
gets here with the extradition papers,"
he returned. "But as to fighting
Dunham, without money—"
She looked up quickly, and this time
there was no mistaking the meaning
of the glow in the magnificent brown
eyes.
"Your friends have money, Monta
gue—plenty of It. All you have to
do Is to say that you will defend your
self. I
Dunham couldn't be made to take your
place in the prisoner's dock, or that
you couldn't be put in his place in the
am not sure that Watrous
beautiful
Lawrenceville Bank and Trust. You
have captured Tucker Jibhey. and that
means Tucker's father; and my fa
ther—well, when it comes to the
worst, my father always docs what 1
want him to. It's his one weakness."
For one little instant Smith felt the
solid ground slipping from beneath his
feet. Here was a way out. and his
quick mentality was showing him that
it was a perfectly feasible way. As
Verda Richlander's husband and Jo
siah Richlander's son-in-law. lie could
fight Dunham and win. And the re
ward: once more he could take his
place in the small Lawrenceville
world, and settle down to the life of
conventional good report and ease
which he had once thought the acme
of any reasonable man's aspirations.
But at the half-yielding moment a
word of Corona Baldwin's Hashed into
his brain and turned the scale: "It
did happen in your case . . . giv
ing you a chance to grow and expand,
and to break with all the old tradi
tions . . . and the break left you
free to make of yourself what yon
hould choose." It was the reincar
nated Smith who met the look in the
: and made answer.
"Xo," was the sober decision; and
then lie gave his reasons. "If 1 could I
do what you propose, I shouldn't be I
.worth the powder it would take to I
drive a bullet through me, Verda. for '
now. you see, I know what love means.
You say I have changed, and I have }
• hanged: I can imagine the past-and
gone J. Montague jumping at the
chance you are offering. But the mill
j will never grind with the water that !
j is past: I'll take what is coming to me.
j and try to take it like a man. Good
j night—and good-by." And he turned
I his back upon the temptation and
j went away.
Fifteen minutes later he was in his
office in the Kinzie building, trying in
I vain to get Colonel Baldwin on the
distance wire; trying also—and also
in vain—to forget the recent clash and
break with Verda Richlander. He
was jiggling the switch of the desk
phone for the twentieth time when a
nervous step echoed in the corridor
and the door opened to admit William
Starbuck. There was red wrath in
the mine owner's ordinarily cold eyes
when lie flung himself into a chair and
eased the nausea of his soul in an out
burst of picturesque profanity.
"The jig's up—definitely up, John,"
he was saying, when his speech be
came lucid enough to be understood.
"We know now what Stanton's 'other
!
j
j
I
I
j
I
;

to
'
iUlMl
u
limn
# i 'liiro $.i[H, il I ii. m
"Your Friends Have Money."
string' was. A half hour ago, a deputy
United States marshal, with a posse
big enough to capture a town, took
possession of the dam and stopped the
work. He says it's a court order from
Judge Lurching at Red Butte, based on
the claims of that infernal paper rail
road !"
Smith pushed the telephone aside.
"But it's too late!" he protested.
"The dam is completed; Williams
phoned me before I went to dinner.
All that remains to be done to save
the charter is to shut the spillways
and let the water back up so that it
will flow into the main ditch !"
!
;
I
j
j
Right there's where they've got
us!" wus the rasping reply. "They
won't let Williams touch the spillway
gates, and they're not going to let him
touch them until after we have lost out
on the time limit! Williams' man says
they've put the seal of the court on
the machinery and have posted armed
guards everywhere. Wouldn't that
make you run around in circles and
yelp like a scalded dog?"
CHAPTER XXIV.
A Strong Man Armed.
Smith put his elbows on the desk
and propped his head In his hands.
It was not the attitude of dejection;
it was rather a tnlncelike rigor of
concentration, with each und all of the
newly emergent powers once more
springing alive to answer the battle
call. At the desk-end Starbuck sat
with his hands locked over one knee,
too disheartened to roll a cigarette,
normal solace for all woundings less
than mortal. After a minute or two
Smith jerked himself around to face
the news-bringer.
"Does Colonel Baldwin know?'
asked.
"Sure! That's the worst of it. Didn't
I tell you? He drove out to the dam,
reaching the works just ahead of the
trouble. When M'Graw and the posse
outfit showed up, the colonel got it
into his head that the whole thing was
merely another trick of Stanton's—a
fake. Ginty, the quarry boss, brought
the news to town. He says there was
a bloody mix-up, and at the end of it
the colonel and Williams were both
under arrest for resisting the officers."
Smith nodded thoughtfully. "Of
he
er
50
a
I
I
I
'
}
!
course; that was just what was needed.
With the president and the chief of
construction locked up. ami the wheels
Mocked for the next twenty-four hours,
our charter will he gone."
"This world and another, and then
the fireworks." Starbuck threw in.
"With the property all roped up in a
law tangle, and those stock options of
yours tine to fall in. it looks as if a
lew prominent citizens of the Tiinan
yoni would have to take to the high
grass and the tail timber. It sure
does. John."
"Do you know, Billy. I have been
expecting something of tin's kind—and
expecting it to be a fake. That's why
I sent Stillings to Red Butte; to keep
uatch of Judge Lorchitig's court. Still
ings was to phone me if Lorehing is
sued an order."
"And he hasn't 'phoned you?"
"Xo; but that doesn't prove any
thing. The order may have been is
sued, and Stillings may have tried to;
let us know. There are a good many
ways in which a man's mouth may he
stopped—when there are no scruples
on the other side."
"Then you think there is no doubt
! thut the court order is straight, and!
j tlutt this man M'Graw is really a
deputy marshal and has the law for
j what he is doing?"
I "In the absence of any proof to the
I contrary, we are obliged to believe it
i—or at least to accept it. But \ve'r<
not dead yet. . . . Billy, it's run
ning in my mind that we've got to go :
out there and clean up Mr. Mdraw
and his crowd."
Starbuck threw up his hands and
made a noise like a dry wagon wheel.
"Holy smoke!— go up against the
whole United States?" he gasped.
Smith's grin showed his strong, even
teeth.
"Starbuck, you remember what 1
•old you one night?—the night I
dragged you up to my rooms in the
hotel and gave you a hint of the rea
son why 1 had no business to make
love to Corona Baldwin?"
"Yep."
"Well, the time has come when 1
may as well fill out the blanks in the
story for you." And with Billy look
dug straight into his eyes, he di
At the end Starbuck was nodiiin^. ....
berly. "You sure have been carrying
a back-load all these weeks. John,
never know ing what minute was going
he the next. Xow I know about
this Miss Rich-pastures. She knows
you and she could give you away if
she wanted to. Has she done it. John?"
"Xo; but her father lias. Stanton has
got hold of the end of the thread, and,
while I dou't know it definitely, it is
practically certain he sent a wire. If
file Brewster police are not looking for
me at this moment, they will be short
ly. That brings us back to this High
Line knockout. As the matter stands.
I'm tin- one man in our outfit who has
absolutely nothing to lose. I am an
officer of the company, and no legal
notice lias been served upon me. Can
you fill out the remainder of tin* or
der?"
so - I
j "Ne. I'll be switched if I can!"
j "Then I'll fill it for you. So far as
I know—legally, you understand—this
raid has never been authorized by the
courts ; at least, that is what I'm go
ing to assume until the proper papers
have been served on me. Therefore 1
am free to strike one final blow foi
the colonel and his friends, and I'm
-Mug to do it, if 1 can dodge the police
long enough to get action."
Starbucks tilting chair righted itself
with a crash.
"You've thought it all out?
how to go at it?"
"Every move; and everyone of then;
a straight hid for a second penitentiary
sentence."
"All right," said the mine owner
briefly. "Count me in."
"For information only," was the
brusque reply. "You have a stake in
the country and a good name to main
tain. I have nothing. But you can
tell me a few things. Are our work
men still on the ground?"
"Yes. Ginty said there were onlv a
-just
few stragglers who came to town with
l*' 111 - «lost of the two shifts are stay
1ou l " fh't their pay—or until they
,iml . out t!lar they aren't going to get
it."
"And the colonel and Williams: tht
marshal is holding them out at the
dam?"
"1 h-huh ; locked up iu the office
shack, Ginty says."
"Good. I shan't need the colonel
but I shall need Williams. Now an
other question: you know Sheriff
Harding fairly well, don't you? What
sort of a man is he?"
"Square as a die, and as nervy a>
they make 'em. When he gets a war
rant to serve, he'll bring in bis man
dead or alive."
"That's all I'll ask of him. Now ge,
and find me an auto, and then you can
fade away and get ready to prove a
good, stout alibi."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Candles Vs. Electricity.
The Society for Electrical Develop
rnent, anxious to encourage a wider
use of electricity for lighting, has pre
pared figures showing It is much cheap
er than candles or kerosene.
A recent test of six candles showed
that for 1 cent only 2.68 candle-power
hours were obtained. If electricity for
lighting costs 9 cents for a kilowatt
hour a 20-watt lamp can be lighted for
50 hours for 9 cents. The efficiency of
a 20-watt incnndescent Is a candle
power for 1.17 watts, thus a 20-watt
lamp will provide about 17 candle
power. It will burn 50 hours for 9
cents, or 850 candle-power hours will
cost 9 cents. One cent will buy 9^4
candle-power hours, or 35 time® aj
much light as can be obtained „Coin «
candle for 1 cent
WhaÆ'ViteTI Dress*
Women Will Wea!i
fl»
r r
m
5 I
WITHIN HER OWN FOUR WALLS.
Xext to the tailored suit the after
noon dress takes its place as the most
Important dement of success in the
wardrobe, to be assembled in the fall.
It has been made in such variety that
a selection merits a great deal of at
tention. it appears in satin and In
wool, with satin preponderating, and
Is more or less elaborate (if one can
call any of the season's styles elab
orate) according n> the uses it Is to
be put to.
Many of the new models are entire- !
Iy of satin, with even the lovely and !
beloved crepe georgette in sleeves and
bodice replaced by satin. But crepe I
Is not entirely banished and is not !
likely tu be. h is tmi valuable an
asset to the designers of gowns and I
too becoming to their wearers to lose!
A satin gown appears in the picture
made with a tunic partly of satin and
portly of embroidery, which lias the
appearance of beading, made by ap
plying a tiny silk cord wound with a
i
I
«>-.
\ -
SOFT VELVET HATS FOR MISSES.
* silver band in a pattern to
; of any kind. It is particularly
>n gray, taupe, black and dark
mlnut
fabric
good
blue.
A trace <>f tin* tonneau idea remains
In the skirt of this gown, which Is cut
to Hare out at the hips. The long
sleeves are of plain crepe and the
bodice and upper part of the tunic of
satin and of crepe with the new em
broidery. The lines are almost
straight, with an inconspicuous and
soft girdle of satin, playing hide and
seek with the embroidered crepe on
the bodice. Measured by present
standards, this gown may be called
elaborate. A cluster of silk and
chenille flowers on the bodice do their
part toward brightening its dignified
color, which is taupe, but might be
dark blue or gray or black with equal
ly good effect.
Even the little miss of eleven (or
more) years may be happy in the pos
session of a velvet hat this winter,
for those who make it their business
to look after her needs in headwear
have gone in for velvet. The soft
crowns and soft brims of the new
shapes make Just the kind of headwear
for little girls; Hopping brims and big
puffed crowns that belong to youth.
Velvets in black, dark brown and
other dark colors make up a large part
of winter millinery for misses. For
trimming, heavy ribbons, silk cord and
tassels, fur ornaments and bandings,
are featured with ribbon in the lead
and used in many ways.
The three hats shown in the group
i printed above are representative type#
I among velvet bats for girls. The
picturesque model at the left Is much
like the familiar old favorites, In leg
horn and other straws, with broad,
floppy brims that have always belong
ed to youth. But the crown and brim
arc both softer than those of its proto
types. It is of Mack velvet bound
with grosgrain ribbon and has a small
fur ornament at the front.
The hat at the right is merely a
large puff of velvet over a narrow
drooping brim, hound with ribbon. It
lias a collar, and long ends at the back
of grosgrain ribbon. The small
hat at the center has a collapsible
crown, mounted on a narrow, upturned
brim. The head supports the crown,
which is weighted at one side with a
silk cord and tassel. The edge of the
brim is bound with narrow grosgrain
ribbon.
These hats represent the ideas of
people who specialize in this particu
lar kind of millinery. They seem very
simple, hut the hand and eye of the
experienced designer Is evident in
all of them.
Novel Designs.
If one wishes to represent the spirit
of the day she may choose a pattern
in which the Hags of the allies appear
as spokes, and. combined, form the
"wheel of progress," the whole car
ried out In the correct colors against
a delicate background.
Regular menageries appear on some
Stuffs—one in particular shows a
leopard springing upon u defenceless
lamb. But others carry out peaceful
scenes and depict botanical garden#
and butterflies.
OÜ for Chamois Gloves.
To wash chamois gloves, put them
on your hands and scrub them clean
with a mild soap and warm water.
Take them off and rinse. Into the
last rinse water add a liberal table
spoonful of olive oil—that is, a table
spoonful to a basin of water. Dry in
the shade.
Greek Influence in Evening Gowns.
A number of evening models show
Greek Inspiration, the two sides of the
Sown made in contrasting style. In
some instances, draperies are caught
'up with embroidery.

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