Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume], February 04, 1909, Image 2

About Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Iowa

                
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THE BLACK BAG
By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE.
Copyright—By Bobbs, Merrill Co.
(CHAPTER X—Continued.)
Fascinated, he fixed his gaze upon
the reeling brigantine, and for a spane
It was as if by longing he had project
ed his spirit to her slanting deck, and
were there, pleading his case with the
mistress of his heart.
Voices approaching brought him
back to shore. He turned, resuming
his jnask of sanity, the better to con
fer with the owner of the cottage and
boats—a heavy, keen-eyed fellow, un
gracious and truculent o£ habit, and
chary of his words as he promptly
demonstrated.
"I'll hire your boat," Kirkwood told
him, "to put me aboard that brigantine,
off. to leeward. We ought to start at
once."
The fisherman shifted his quid of to
bacco from cheek to cheek, grunted in
articulately, and swung deliberately on
his heel, displaying a bull neck above
a pair of heavy shoulders.
"Dirty weather," he croaked, facing
back from his survey of the eastern
skies before the American found out
whether or not he should resent his
insolence.
"How. much?" Kirkwood demanded
ourtly, annoyed.
The man hesitated, scowling blackly
at the heeling vessel, momentarily in
creasing her distance from shore. Then
with a crafty smile, "Two pound," he
declared.
The American nodded. "Very well,"
he agreed simply. "Get out your
boat."
The fisherman turned away to sham
ble noisily over the shingle, huge boot
ed heels crunching, toward one of the
dories. To this he set his shoulde-,
shoving it steadily down the beach
until only the stern was dry.
Kirkwood looked back, for the last
time, up the road to Sheerness. Noth
ing moved upon it. He was rid of
Mrs. Hallam, if face to face with a
sterner problem. He had a few pence
over ten shillings in his pocket, and
had promised to pay the man four
times as much. He would have agreed
to ten times the sum demanded for
the boat he must and vjould have. But
he had neglected to conclude his bar
gain, to come to an understanding as
to the method of payment and he felt
more than a little dubious as to the
reception the fisherman would give his
proposition, sound as he, Kirkwood,
knew it to be.
.In the background the cabby loiter
ed. gnawed by insatiable curiosity.
The fisherman turned, calling over
his shoulder: "If ye'd catch yon ves
sel, come!"
With one final, twinge of doubt—the
task of placating this surly dog was
anything but inviting—the. American
Strode to the boat and climbed in, tak
itfg the stern seat. The fisherman shov
ed off,, wading out thigh-deep in the
spiteful waves, then threw himself in
over the gunwales and shipped the
oars. Bows swinging offshore, rock
ing and dancing", the dory began to
forge slowly toward the anchored
boat. In their faces the wind beat
gustily, and small, slapping waves,
freaking against the sides, showered
it in a
In time the dory lay alongside the
cat-boat, the fisherman with a gnarled
hand grasping the latter's gunwale tc
hold, the two together. With some dif
ficulty Kirkwood transhipped himself,
landing asprawl in the cockpit, amid a
tangle of cordage slippery with scales.
The skipper followed, with clumsy ex
pertness bringing the dory's painter
with him and hitching it to a ring-bolt
abaft the rudder-head. Then, pausing
an instant to stare into the east with
somber eyes, he shipped the tiller and
bent to the halyards. As the sail rat
tled-up, flapping wildly, Kirkwood
marked with relief—for it meant so
much time saved—that it was already
doge reefed.
But ^hen at least the boom was
thrashing overhead and the halyarls
had been made fast to their cleats, the
fisherman again stood erect, peering
distrustfully at the distant wall of
clond.
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Then in two breaths: "Can't do it,"
he decided "not at the price."
»"Why?" Kirkwood stared despair
ingly after the brigantine, that was al
ready drawn far ahead.
"Danger," growled the fellow,
wind."
At a loss completely, Kirkwood
found no words. He dropped his head,
considering.
"Not at the price," the sullen voice
iterated and he looked up to find the
cunning gaze upon him.
"How much then?"
"Five poun' I'll have—no less, for
riskin' my life this day."
"Impossible. I haven't got it."
In silence the man unshipped the
tiller and moved toward the cleats.
"Hold on a minute."
Kirkwood unbuttoned his coat, and,
freeing the chain from his waistcoat
buttonholes, removed his watch.
As well abandon them altogether he
had designed to leave them as security
for the two pounds, and had delayed
stating the terms only for fear lest
they be refused. Now, too late as
ever, he recognised his error. But
surely, he thought, it should be appar
ent even to that low intelligence that
the timepicce alone was worth more
than the boat itself.
"Will you take these?" he offered.
"Take and keep them—only set me
aboard that ship!"
Deliberately the fisherman weighed
the watch and chain in his broad, hard
palm, eyes narrowing to mere slits in
his bronzed mask.
"How much?" he asked slowly.
"Eighty pounds, together the chain
alone cost me twenty."
The shifty, covetous eyes ranged
from the trtasure in his hand to the
threatening east. A puff of wind
caught the sail and sent the boom
athwartships, like a mighty flail. Both
men ducked instinctively, to escape a
braining.
"How do I know?" objected the skip
per.
"I'm telling you. If you've got eyes
you can see," retorted Kirkwood sav
agely, seeing that he had erred in tell
ing the truth the amount he had
named was too great to be grasped at
once' by this crude, cupidous brain.
"How do I know?" the man repeat
ed. Nevertheless he dropped watch
and chain into his pocket, then with a
meaning grimace extended his horny,
greedy palm.
"What
"Hand over th' two pound' and we'll
go."
"I'll see you damned first!"
A flush of rase blinded the young
man. The knowledge that the Alethea
was minute by minute slipping beyond
his reach seemed to madden him.
White-lipped and ominously quiet he
rose from his seat on the comlping, as,
without answer, the fisherman, crawl
ing out on the overhand, began to haul
in the dory.
"Ashore ye go," he pronounced his
ultimatum, motioning Kirkwood to
enter the boat.
The American turned, looking for the
Alethea, or for the vessel that he be
lieved bore her name. She was near
ing the light-ship when he found her,
and as he looked a squall blurred tha
air between them, blotting the brig
antine out with a smudge of rain. The
effect was as if she had vanished, as
if she were forever snatched from his
grasp and with Dorothy aboard her
—Heaven alone knew in what need of
him!
Mute and blind with despair and
wrath, he turned upon the man and
caught him by the collar, forcing him
out over the lip of the overhang. They
were unevenly matched, Kirkwood
far the slighter, but strength came to
him in the crisis, physical strength
and address such as he had not dreamed
was at his command. And the sur
prise of his onslaught proved an ally
of unguessed potency. Before be him
self knew it he was standing on the
overhang and had shifted his hold to
seize the fellow about the waist then,
lifting him clear of the deck, and aid­
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I
ed by a lurch of the cat-boat, he cast
him bodily into the dory. The man,
falling, struck his head against one of
the thwarts, a glancing blow that
stunned him temporarily. Kirkwood
himself dropped as if shot, a trailing
reef-point slapp-ing his cheek until it
stung as the boom thrashed overhead.
It was as close a call as he had known,
the knowledge sickened him a little.
Without rising he worked the paint
er loose and cast the dory adrift then
crawled back into the cockpit. No
pang of compassion disturbed him as
he abandoned the fisherman to the
mercy of the sea though the fellow
lay still, uncouthly distorted, in the
bottom of the dory, he was in no dan
ger: the wind and wavjs together
would carry the boat ashore.
For 'that matter, the man was even
then recovering, struggling to sit up.
Crouching to avoid the boom, Kirk
wood went forward to the bows, and,
grasping the mooring cable, drew it in,
slipping back into the cockpit to get
a stronger purchase with his feet. It
was a struggle the boat pulled slug
gishly against the wind, the cable inch
ing in jealously. And behind him he
could hear a voice bellowing inarticu
late menaces, and knew that in an
other moment the fisherman would be
at his oars.
Frantically he tugged and tore at the
slimy rope, hauling with a will and a
prayer. It gave, more readily, towards
the end, but he seemed to have fought
with it for ages when at last the
anchor tripped and he got it in.
Immediately he leaped back to the
stern, fitted in the tiller, and, seizing
the mainsheet, drew the boom in till
the wind should catch in the canvas.
In the dory the skipper, bending at his
oars, was not two yards astern.
He was hard aboard when, the sail
filling with a bang, Kirkwood pulled
the tiller up and the cat-boat slid
away., a dozen feet separating them in
a breath.
A yell of rage boomed down the
wind, but he paid no heed. Careless
alike of the dangers he had passed
and those that yawned before him,
he trimmed the sheet and stood away
on the port tack, heading directly for
the Nore Lightship.
CHAPTER XI.
Kirkwood's anger cooled apace at
worst it had been a flare of passion—
incandescent. It was seldom more.
His brain clearing, the temperature or"
his judgment quickly regained its
mean, and he saw his chances without
distortion, weighed them without ex
aggeration.
Leaning against the combing, feet
braced upon the slippery and treach
erous deck, he clung to tiller and
mainsheet and peered ahead with
anxious eyes, a pucker of daring
graven deep between his brows.
A mile to westward, three or more
ahead, he could see the brigantine
standing close in under the Essex
shore! At times she was invisible
again he could catch merely the glint
of her canvas, white against the dark
loom of the littoral, toned by a mist of
flying spindrift. He strained his.eyes,
watching for the chance which would
take place in the rake of her masts
and sails, when she should come
about.
For the longer that manoeuver was
deferred, the better was his chance of
attaining his object. It was a forlorn
hope. But in time the brigantine, *o
escape Maplin Sands, would be forced
to tack and stand out past the ligni
ship, the wind off her port bows. Then
their courses would intersect. It re
mained to be demonstrated whether
the cat-boat was speedy enough to ar
rive at this point of contact in ad
vance of, or simultaneously with, the
larger vessel. Every minute that the
putative Alethea put off coming about
brought the cat-boat that goal, but
Kirkwood could do no more than hope
and try to trust in the fisherman's im
plied admission that it could be done.
It was all in the boat and the way, she
handled.
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He watched her anxiously, quick to
approve her merits as she displayed
them. He had sailed small craft be
fore—frail center-ooard cat-boats,
handy and swift, built to serve in sum
mer winds and protected dwatersj nev
er such an one as this. Yet he liked
her.
Deep bocomed she was, with no cen
ter-board, dependent on her draught
and heavy keel to hold her on the
wind stanch and seaworthy, sheathed
with stout plank and ribbed with sea
soned timber, designed to keep afloat
in the wickedest weather brewed by
the foul-tempered German ocean.
Withal her lines were fine and clean
for all her beam she was calculated tD
nose narrowly into the wind and
rake a pretty pace as well. A good
boat he had the grace to give the
credit to his luck.
Her disposition was more fully dis
closed as they drew away from the
beach. Inshore with shoaling water,
the waves had been choppy and spite
ful but lacking force of weight. Far
ther out, as the bottom fell away, the
rollers became more uniform and pow
erful heavy sweeping seas met the
cat-boat, from their hollows looming
mountainous to the man in the tiny
cockpit who was nevertheless aware
that to a steamer they would be neglig
ible.
»His boat breasted them gallantly,
toiling sturdily up the steep acclivities,
poising breathlessly on foam-crestod
summits {or dizzy instants, then
plunging headlong down the deep
green swales and left a boiling wake
behind her—urging ever onward, hug
ging the wind in her wisp of blood-red
sail, and boring into it, pulling at the
tiller with the mettle of a race-horse
slugging at the bit
Offshore, too, the wind stormed with
added strength^ or, possibly, had fresh
ened. For minutes on end the leeward
gunwales would run green, and now
and again the screaming pelting
squalls that scoured the estuary would
heel her over until the water cascaded
in over the lee combing, and the rud
der, lifted clear, would hang idle until,
smitten by some racing billow, the til
ler -would" be all but torn from Kirk
wood's hands. Again and again this
happened and those were times of
trembling. But always the cat-boat
righted, shaking the clinging waters
from her and swinging her stem into
the wind again and there would fol
low an abbreviated breathing spell,
during which Kirkwood was at liberty
to dash the salt spray from his eyes
and search the wlndharried waste for
the brigantine. Sometimes he found
her, sometimes not.
Long after, he had expected her to,
she' went about and they began to
close in upon each other. He could see
that even with shortened canvas she
was staggering drunkenly under the
fierce impacts of the wind. For him
self, it was nip-and-tuck, now, and no
man in his normal sense would have
risked a sixpence on the boat's chance
to live until she crossed the brigan
tine's bows.
Time out of reckoning he was forced
to kneel in the swimming cockpit,
steering with one hand, using the bail
ing-dish with the other, and keeping
his eyes religiously turned to the
bellying patch of sail. It was heart
breaking toil he began reluctantly to
concede that it could not last much
longer. And if he missed the brigan
tine he would be lost mortal strength
was not enough to stand the unend
ing strain upon every bone, muscle
and sinew, required to keep the boat
upon her course though for a lime it
might cope with and solve the prob
lems presented by each new, malig
nant billow and each furious, howling
squall the end inevitably must be
failure. To struggle on would be but
to postpone the certain end save
and expect the possibility of his gain
ing the brigantine within the period of
time strictly and briefly limited by
his powers of endurance.
Long since he had become numb
with cold from the incessant drench
ings of icy. spray, that piled in over the
windward counter, keeping the bottom
anlde-deep regardless of his laborious
but intermittent efforts with the bail
ing-dish. And the two, brigantine and
cockle-shell, were drawing together
with appalling deliberation.
A dozen times he was on the point
of surrender, as often plucked up
hope as the minutes wore on and he
kept above water, he began to believe
that If he could stick it out his judg
ment and seamanship would be justi
fied though human ingenuity
backed by generosity could by no
means contrive adequate excuse for
his foolhardiness.
But that was aside, something ir
reparable. Wan and grim, he fought
it out.
But that his voice stuck in his
parched throat, he could have shouted
in his elation, when eventually he
gained the point of intersection an
eighth of a mile ahead of the brig
antine and got sight of her windward
freeboard as, most slowly, the cat
boat forged across her course.
For all that, the moment of his
actual triumph was riot yet he had
still to carry off successfully a scheme
that for sheer audacity of conception
and contempt for danger, transcended
all thajt had gone before.
Holding the cat-boat on for a time,
he brought her about handsomely a
little way beyond the brigantine's
course, and hung in the eye of the
wind, the leach flapping and tighten
ing with reports like rifle-shots, and
the water sloshing about her calves—
bailing dish now altogether out of
mind while he watched the oncoming
vessel, his eyes glistening with anti
cipation.
She was footing it smartly, the brig
antine—lying down to it and snoring
into the wind. Beneath her stem
waves broke in snow-white showers,
whiter than the canvas of her bulging
jib—broke and, gnashing their teeth
in impotent fury, swirled and eddied
down her sleek dark flanks. Bobbing,
courtesying, she plunged onward,
shortening the interval with mighty,
leaping bounds. On her bows, with
each instant, the golden letters of her
name grew larger and more legible un
til—Alethea!—he could read it plain
beyond dispute.
Joy welled in his heart. He forgot
all that he had undergone in the pros
pect of what he proposed still to do
Luffing, he edged nearer, handling
his craft as though intending to ram
the larger vessel, foot by foot short
ening the little interval. When it was
four feet, he would risk the jump he
crawled out on the overhang, crouch
ing on his toes, one hand light upon
the tiller, the other touching the deck,
ready ready
Abruptly the Alethea shut off the
wind the sail flatened and the cat
dropped back. In a second the distance
had doubled. In anguish Kirkwood ut
tered an exceeding bitter cry. Al
ready he was falling far off her coun
ter
A shout reached him. He was
dimly conscious of a dark object hurt
ling through the air Into the cock
pit, splashing, something dropped—a
coil of rope. He fell forward upon it,
into water eighteen inches deep and
for the first time realized that, but for
that line, he had gone to his drown
ing in another minute. The cat was
sinking.
As he scrambled to his feet, clutch
ing the lifeline, a heavy wave washed
over the water-logged craft and left it
all but submerged and a smart tug on
the rope added point to the advice
which, reaching his ears in a bellow
like a bull's, penetrated the panic of
his wits.
"Jump? Jump, you fool!"
In an instant of coherence he saw
that the brigantine was luffing none
the less much of the line had already
been paid out, and there was no reck
oning when the end would be reached.
.Without time to make it fast, he hitch
ed it twice round his waist and chest,
once round an arm, and, grasping it
above his head to ease its constriction
when the tug should come, leaped on
the combing and overboard. A green
roaring avalanche swept down upon
him and the luckless cat-boat, over
whelming both simultaneously.
The agony that was his- during the
next few minutes can by 110 .0
exaggerated. With such crises the hu
man mind is not fitted adequately to
cope it retains no record of the su
preme moment beyond a vague and in
coherent impression of poignant, soul
racking .suffering. Kirkwood under
went a prolonged Interval of seml
sentience, his mind dominated and op
pressed by a deathly fear of drowning
and a deadening sense of suffocation,
with attendant tortures as of being
broken on the wheel—limb rending
from limb of compression of his ribs
that threatened momentarily to crush
in his chest of a world a-welter with
dim swirling green half lights alter
nating with flashes of blinding green
.half-lights alternating with flashes ot
blinding white of thunderings in his
ears like salvoes from a thousand can
non
And his senses were blotted out in
blackness.
Then he was breathing once more,
the keen clean air Btabbing his lungs,
the while he swam unsupported in an
ethereal void of brilliance. His mouth
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I
Copyright 1903 by Hart Schaffner & Marx
in the name of the only woman the
world held for him Unquestioning,
by her side, he was prepared to go
still farther, though all humanity
should single her out with accusing
fingers.
They were watching him, aboard
the brigantine he could see a line of
heads above her windward rail. Per
haps she was of their number. He
waved an audacious hand. Some one
replied, a great shout shattering itself
unintelligibly against the gale. He
neither understood not attempted to
reply his every faculty was concen
trated on the supreme moment now
at hand.
Calculating the instant to a nicety,
he paid off the sheet and pulled up the
tiller. The cat-boat pivoted on her
heel with the untempered might of
the wind behind her, she shot like
an arrow under the brigantine's bows,
so close that the bowsprit of the latter
first threatened to impale the sail,
next, the bows plunging, crashed
down a bare two feet behind tjje cat
boat's stern.
Working in a frenzy of haste, Kirk
wood jammed the tiller hard alee,
bringing the cat about, and, trimming
the mainsheet as best he might, found
himself racing under the brigantine's
leeward quarter,—water pouring in
generously over the cat's.
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was full of something that burned, a
liquid hot, acrid, and stinging. He
gulped, swallowed, slobbered, choked,
coughed, attempted to sit up, was
aware that he was the focal center of
a ring of glaring, burning eyes, like
eyes of ravening beasts and fainted.
His next cousious impression was of
standing up, supported by friendly
arms on either side, while somebody
asking him if he could walk a step or
two.
He lifted his head and let it fall in
token of assent, mumbling a yes and
looked round him with eyes wherein
the light of intelligence burned more
clear with every second. By degrees
he catalogued and comprehended his
weirdly altered circumstances and
surroundings.
He was partly seated, partly held
up, on the edge of the cabin sky-light,
an object of interest to some half*
dozen men, seafaring fellows all, by
their habit, clustered round between
him and the windward rail. Of their
number one stood directly before him,
dwarfing his companions as much by
his air of command as by his uncom
mon height: tall, thin-faced and sallow
with hollow weather-worn cheeks, a
mouth like a crooked gash from ear
to ear, and eyes like dying coals, with
which ho looked the rescued up and
down in one grim, semi-humorous,
semi-speculative glance. In hands both
huge and red he fondled tenderly a
squat brandy flask whose contents had
apparently been employed as a first
aid to the drowning.
As Kirkwood's gaze encountered his,
the man smiled sourly, jerking his
head to one side with a singularly,
derisive air.
"Hi, matey!" he blustered. '"Ow
goes it now? Feelin' 'appier, eigh?"
"Some, thank yoi^ more like a
drowned rat." Kirkwood eyed him
sheepishly. "I suppose you're the man
who threw me that line? I'll have to
wait till my head clears up before I
can thank you properly."
"Don't mention it." He of the lan
tern jaws stowed the bottle away with
jealous care In one of his immense
coat pockets, and seized Kirkwood's
hand in a grasp that made the young
man wince. "You're syfe enough now.
My name's Stryker, Capt'n Wilyum
Stryker Wot's the row? Lookin'
for a friend?" he demanded suddenly,
as Kirkwood's attention wandered.
For the memory of the errand that
had brought him into the hands of
Captain William Stryker had come to
the young man very suddenly and his
eager eyes were swiftly roving not
alone the decks but the wide world
besides, for sight or sign of his heart's
desire.
(To be Continued).
AVERY.
Avery—Mrs. W. S. Appleman will
entertain the Ladies' Aid at her home
Thursday afternoon. A 10c. lunch
wil be served.
Mrs. Faye Warr was an Albia visitor
Monday.
The Citizens' meeting held at the
Bridges' hall last Monday evening was
well 'attended and the following offi
cers were elected to ascertain means
and ways of putting crossings
and sidewalks for the town:
Andrew Anderson, A. C. Bridges,
Frank West, A. J. Warr and Axel Pet
erson. It is hoped that they will be
successful in getting permanent walks
for the town.
Mrs. J. W. Ritcher entertained the
Ladies' Birthday club at her home
last Thursday. Although it was a rainy
and disagreeable day, nearly all the
members were present. Refreshments
were served and all spent a pleas
ant afternoon.
Mrs. Libby Montgomery will enter
tain the Ladies' Birthday club at her
home Wednesday afternoon and two
new members will be taken in, Mrs
Ogle and Mrs. Andrew Anderson.
W. S. Appleman was hurt by a fall
of slate in the mines one day last
week, injuring one shoulder, but he is
able to be about.
Rev. Cox of Buxton, filled his ap
pointment here Saturday evening and
Sunday morning and preached a pow
erful sermon. After his sermon Sun
day morning. he made arrangements
to re-organize the Epworth League,
The following officers were elected:
President—Andrew Anderson 1st Vice
President—Gertie Roberts 2nd Vice
President—Mae Walker 3nd Vice
President—Gay Pearson 4th Vice
President—Ada Moyle Secretary—H.
1 E. Bennett Treasurer—Mrs. Rush
$18.75
$15.00
$12.50
N. W. C0WLES
JEWELER
Needles Organist—Ada Moyle. A bus
iness meeting was arranged for Wed
nesday evening, at which the Lcagua,
will be properly organized and mem
bers enrolled and a program prepared
for next Sunday evening.
The Avery Sunday school has
added class No. 7 which is a young
men class and will be taught by H.
E. Ogle. This class is in addition to
the Bible class now taught by J. H.
Miller.
WALKED MILE BAREFOOTED.
Woman Near Montrose Compelled to
Go Far in the Blizzard
For Help.
Montrose, Feb. 1.—One of the odd
incidents of the blizzard was the acci
dent that happened to Mr. and Mrs.
Hanks, a strange couple who hava
bees living in a tent on the hillside at
Bluff Park just below here. The couple
put up their tent last summer and have
since been living in it. Friday the
blizzard blew the tent down. Hanks
was ill in a bunk and could not help
himself. Mrs. Hanks, without shoes
and with only a shawl thrown over her
head started to Montrose, a mile away,
to get help. She walked the entire
distance in the snow and bitter cold in
her bare feet. When she arrived in
this city she accosted several men,
who were not inclined to go with her
on account of the reputation which her
husband had for shooting at strangers.
She finally, however, secured "help and
the tent was once more put in shap»
KEOSAUQUA.
Keosauqua—Mrs. Mary Langrford oi
Wycondah, Me., is in Keosauqua vis
iting her mother Mrs. Eliza Frail.
Leo Beggs has sold his interest in
the Schrecklngast restaurant to Mr.
Funk of Pittsburg.
Mrs. F. F. Bateman of Keokuk is a
guest of her daughter Mrs. J. A. Brown,
and family.
The Ladies' Guild of the Congrega
tional church met at the home of Mrs.
C. I. Manning Wednesday afternoon.
There was a good attendance and
much interest was manifested.
"The Old New Hampshire Home'*
was given at the opera house Thurs
day evening by home talent for th«
benefit of the Ladies' Degree of Hon
or. Every seat in the house, was
taken and the play was rendered in
such a mann-7 the audience greatly
enloyed it.
Mrs. Lizzie Allen left today for Dgn
ver, Colo., where she will remain fot
some time.
Mr. and Mrs. Frank Schrechegast of
Freeport, 111., are in Keosauqua, thei!
old home, visiting relatives.
The infant child of Mr. and Mi'-.
Craig Sherod died last Monday evening
and was buried Tuesday.
A. A. McCoy wife and little son of
Albia, visited in town Recently i$th
the former's father, John McCoy.
Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Rhinabarger
have returned to their home in Grin
nell, Iowa, after a four weeks' visit
with relatives in Bonaparte and Keo
sauqua.
F. G. Deihl of Selma is the new en-''
gineer of the power house." He will
move his family here this week and
will occupy. Mrs. Geo. Moore's reel-'
dence on Main street.