The Ordway new era., June 18, 1920, Image 4

About The Ordway new era. (Ordway, Colo.) 1902-1927

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The Man Nobody Knew
(Ctoprrtfftit by Dodd. M«ad St Co.. Inc.)
“LET ’EM MAKE ME LOOK LIKE THAT!”
Everyone knows about the Legion Etrangere—the
famous Foreign Legion of the French army. Well, Rich
ard Morgan of Syracuse, N. Y., enlisted in the Foreign
Legion in the great war under the name of Henry Hilliard.
So you can guess that the hero was not in love with him
self or with life. The Hun sent him to the hospital with
a wounded knee and arm and a face pretty much shot
away with shrapnel. The surgeons fixed up his knee and
his arm. When they proposed to restore his features, he
lied and said he had no photograph of himself. And in his
rage against life he caught up a picture postcard bearing
the radiant face of Christ and cried:
“Let ’em make me look like thatl Or anything else,
either—l don’t give a d—n!”
The French surgeons were interested and did a good
job. And presently “The Man Nobody Knew” is back in
Syracuse, telling of the death of Dick Morgan and selling
mining stock and falling deeper in love with Carol Durant,
the “only girl” of his old life who had refused to marry
Dick Morgan, the failure.
Complications! Well, rather—especially when the
mining stock apparently turns out to be worthless and the
only man in the world who knows Hilliard’s secret dies of
apoplexy and the hero finds out that the heroine did love
Dick Morgan. And Holworthy Hall handles these compli
cations and these real, human characters and this Ameri
can community in the masterly way that makes him read
from one end of the country to the other these days.
Good reading!
CHAPTER I.
In the beginning of thlngM. he was
merely u number; but even that was
creditable, because his number wax
low enough to signify that he had re
sponded pretty promptly to the rally
ing call. After that, ami with the
cataclysmic suddenness which marked
Mil changes of military status on the
western front, he became, one frosty
spurning, a Case, ami got himself
roughly classified (and teuderly han
dled) us a Stretcher Case, a Grand
ftlesse, and, In consequence, a proper
temporary inmate of a Held hospital
on the Helglan plains.
There, he was unofficially known as
Joyeaux. or Joyous One; not because
lie displayed a very buoyant disposi
tion —far from It!—but because he be
longed to the Foreign legion; and in
the course of another day or two he
was routine-ticketed as an Evaeue,
and provided with a lukewarm hot
water bottle and a couple of evll
siiielling cigarettes to console him on
the road to the base hospital at Neu-
Hly.
At Neuiliy he became, for the first
time since his eullstment, an Individ
ual. and at the very outset he was dis
tinguished by certain qualities which
had passed unnoticed in the frying pun
and Are of the trenches. For one
thing, he was obviously Immune to
kindness; and for onothcr. lie was ap
parently Immune to hope. .He was a
man of Inveterate silence; not the
grim silence of fortitude In suffering
<which Is altogether too common a vir
tue In base hospitals to earn any es
pcdal merit), but rather the dogged
reticence of black moods and chronic
bitterness. To be sure, speech was
physically difficult lo him, hut other
men with similar misfortunes spoke
blessings with tlielr eyes, and gave
hack gratitude In voiceless murmurs.
Not so the Joyous One. From tlie day
«»f tils arrival he demanded nothing,
desired nothing, hut to hrood sullenly
aloof; and so. when he became an In
dividual, be nlso became a mystery to
(he nursing staff. It was rumored that
lie was an Implacable woman Imter,
and there seemed to be something in
It.
Regardless of the care of the Amer
ican nurses (all hoverlngly attentive
to one of their own nation who had
fought for France), his spirit remained
abysmal and clouded In gloom. Only
twice, in the Initial month of Ids cou
liiiement. did he betray the weakness
<*f an ordinary emotion; ou each occa
sion a gold-laced general had come to
salute, In the nutue of the republic, one
<»f the Individual's neighbors, and to
deliver a hit of bronze which dangled
from a ribbon striped red and green.
It was said (and doubted by those who
hadn't seen It) that at these ceremo
nies the Individual hud grown fever
ish, and let tears come to Ills eyes, but
subsequently he had relapsed into
Mllll greater depths of stoicism than
before; his own bed-jacket was Inno
cent of cross or medal, and his depres
sion was apparent, and acute. The
•itirses. arguing (bat perhaps his pride
was wounded as seriously as Ids flesh,
■offered quick condolence and got them
selves rebuffed with shrugs of the In
dividual's shoulders, and Inarticulate
sounds which had all the earmarks of
Miippressed profanity. He didn't even
Hoi'ten when IMerre Dutout, a hard-hit
territorial in the next bed, squandered
a day's supply of energy to lean across
sml whisper sympathetically to him:
‘’Old man . . . Vleux espece de choux
• route ... I know how It Is . . .
«nd I haven't got any friends either.
I want you to take my Croix de
Guerre. . . . When I go nowhere."
Kven when speech returned to the
Individual he was u man of curt re
sponses and stinging monosyllable*—
a problem to the surgeons, a problem
to the nurses and (If the expression In
his eyes meant anything), an over
whelming problem to himself. It ap
peared that, after all. It wasn't simply
women that tie hated—lt was the uni
verse.
His military book. Implied that he
had no parents, no close relations, no
friends to notify, no fixed abode. He
received no visitors, no letters, no
packages freighted with magical de
light. But to those who pitied him In
all hls loneliness he was utterly con
temptuous; he even went so fur as to
fillip sidelong to the floor a religious
post card tendered him by a devout
and sentimental passer-by, and he did
It In her presence, unashamed. Later,
when a smiling orderly picked up tlmt
post card and tucked It under his pH
low he wus no less contemptuous In
permitting It to remain. But the one
stupendous fact which, more than all
else combined, made him an object of
bewildered curiosity was this—that of
the scores and scores of men with
head-wounds who were reborn at Neu
iliy that spring and summer, he whs
the only oue who hud never asked for
a mirror.
Tills, of Itself, wouldn't have been
astonishing as long as he delayed In
the preliminary stages of recovery, for
now and then u man with head-wounds
proves to he super-sensitive; but in
the second stage It was remarkable,
and in the third stage It was unique.
The staff held It to tie extraordinary
from u social as well as from a path
ological viewpoint, that a man so ter
ribly disfigured should have no Inter
est—not even a morbid interest —In
hls own appearance. And It wasn't
that the individual was simply Indif
ferent to the mirror; on the contrary,
Ids aversion to It was active utid ener
getic; he flinched, und motioned it
frantically away ns though the mere
conception of seeing himself as others
saw him was too repeilnnt. and too
unthinkable to endure.
There came a day in April when a
photograph was requested of him.
Surely he knew where there was a
likeness of himself, didn't he? Ills
old passport photograph, which had
mysteriously disappeared, or —
The Individual glanced up from his
present task; the wound In his arm
was still annoying and he was ab
sorbed In learning to write with hls
left hand.
“What for?" he muttered.
"Why," said the nurse, cheerfully,
"for a model. To help the surgeons.
They’ll take your picture for a guide
and make you look almost exactly the
way you did before.”
The Individual from America sat up
straight, so that the nurse was startled
by hls uulmatlon, which was without
a parallel in hls local history.
"What 1" he sold.
"Certainly!" The nurse spoke In
the tone one uses to an ailing child.
"You've known that, haveu't you?"
The Individual's voice was queerly ■
unmanageable and strained. "You
mean to say they’re going to make me
look the way . . . Could they do that?
Could they? Even now?"
"Why, of course," she assured him.
"You never told me that!" he said,
passionately. "Why didn't you? Why
couldn't you have told me! And here
I've been . . ." He put hls buds to
hls bandaged face and seemed to
shrink within himself. Then all at ence
By HOLWORTHY HALL
ho burst out: "Well, there’s nothing
to prevent . . . Then they could make
me not look like It. If they wanted to!
Isn't that so?” ,
She regarded him In vast perplexity,
and thought of summoning a surgeon,
for the man had begun to quiver ns
though from shell shock —which he
hadn't undergone.
"Why, I don’t understand what you
mean," she said soothingly. “But If
you’ll Just be calm and—"
The Individual gestured with fierce
Impatience.
"If they can do what you say. and
make me look like any old thing they
choose to, then what In the devil are
they asking for a photograph for?"
"Why, to go by.” she said helplessly.
“You want to look like your old self,
don't you?"
"No. I don’t!’’
The nurse gasped. Hls tone had been
churlish, but the echo of it vaguely
suggested triumph and relief. Hls
symptoms had subsided . . . could
It be that he actually was relieved?
Dumfounded. she made another effort
to convince him.
“But you want to look Just as near
ly like—"
"Don’t you suppose I know what 1
want?” he -Interrupted rudely.
"But haven't you a photograph, any
way. that I cau —"
“No. I haven’t!" he snapped. "I
haven’t.” It was a lie; the passport
photograph was in the lining of a cer
tain wallet, and he had hid It there
for reasons of hls own. But now that
one great danger was definitely past,
and a still further bulwark of protec
tion offered. 2f the nurse spoke truth,
the Individual could nfford to come
out from ambush. "And I don't want
to look the way I did before, and
what's more I never did! But If your
doctors are half as smart as they
tldnk they are let ’em tnnke me look
like that! Or anything else either —
I don’t give a d n!”
Shocked and horrified, she was gaz
ing at a picture postcard he had
snatched from under hls pillow and
thrust upon her. It was a reproduc
tion of a religious painting by Rem
brandt. It was the radiant face of the
Christ.
CHAPTER 11.
Nine o’clock on a night In June—not
i June evenlug, heavy-starred on vel
vet, but a furious June night, with
Stygian blackness looping overhead,
and Stygian water battering and boil
ing against the hull plates. The ship
was dark as the night Itself; blind
dark, without n single ray to play the
traitor. On deek a solitary venturer
hugged the rail, and apathetically
watched the waves tear past.
Out of the warmth and eheer and
the vitiated atmosphere of the smok
ing room entne Martin Harmon, big.
florid, exuberant. A heaving lift of
the deck sent him lurching sidewise;
he suved hls balance by struggling
“Let Them Make Me Look Like That."
toward the rail, when suddeply the
slope was reversed, aud he slipped
and slid to the barrier of safety,
clutched It. and found himself at arm's
teugth from the lonely watcher, who
hadn't stirred, or even turned hls
head.
"Hello!" said Hannon, hls surprise
tinctured with easy familiarity. "Some
night!"
"Yes. It Is.” The tone of the re
sponse was curt, so curt that Harmon
lustinctively leaned forward to dis
cover what expression of countenance
went with It. The night was so black
that he might as well have tried to
penetrate a curtain of solid fabric.
"Seen any C-boats yet?" he asked
humorously.
"Not yet.” The taciturn one moved
a trifle away; a man less thin-skinned
and less dined and wined than Har
mon would probably have taken the
hint and removed himself, but Har
mon’s was an Inquisitive disposition,
and he aerer attempted to curb It—
he was the sort of traveling compan
ion who makes Christians reflect up
THE OBPWAY NEW ERA.
on the definition of Justifiable homi
cide.
“What Is your line?” he Inquired
after a pause.
The other man laughed queerly.
"The first . . . If It makes so
much difference to you."
"Beg pardon? I don’t quite get you.
You said . . ."
“I said the first line. I meant the
first-line trenches. I’ve been In It."
Harmon jerked Ills head upward in
comprehension.
"Oh. I see! You menu the war!
And you’ve been right on the spot
where the fighting Is? Pretty lively
up there. Isn't it? Something stirring
most all the time?”
"I Imagine so." The other man’s
accent was amazingly diffident, and
Harmon peered at him. Incredulous.
"Good Lord, don't you know?"
“Not a great deal. I happened to
get hit the first day I was In the
trenches."
"But you got In It again afterward.
I suppose? I'll bet you did!"
"No."
"What! You never got back at all?
Just one day. and you're through?"
"Yes. After I was discharged from
hospital I wns discharged from the
army too. Permanently unfit."
"English array?"
"No—French."
“Well, thnt's some record!” said
Harnton appreciatively. "That cer
tainly is some record! Not to suy
tough luck —the toughest kind. Going
hack home. I take It?"
“Looks that way. doesn’t It?"
Harmon ignored the sarcnsin.
"Back to work, eh? What did you
say your line Is?”
"I didn’t say. I haven’t any Just
now.”
Harmon pondered a second.
"Oh! Gentleman of leisure? Sol
dier of fortune, eh? Well, I wouldn't
worry If I were you. You're disap
pointed; that’s natural . . . but the
world hasn't come to an end yet. Of
course It Is something of a come-down
to leave the army and get Into harness
again, but after all there’s plenty of
excitement right In the United States.
Big work to be done, son! Big money
t« make. And It helps the war along,
too. I tell you there never was n big
ger opportunity to make money than
there Is right this minute. The hard
Job Isn't to find the scheme; It’s to find
the men to run It. Don’t you worry
. . . you'll land something right off
the bat!”
"Thanks for the compliment!"
“Oh. It’s no compliment! Anybody
can make money these days. It's n
plain statement of fact . . . Say.
let’s go In and have something. Come
In and be soelable. What you want’s
a drink. Am I right or am I wrong?"
"Well—"
“And that’s whnf the doctor or
dered ! Come on! It’s on me."
The other man hesitated, and nt
last succumbed, out of sheer uncon
cern. to a companionship he realized
in advance would he distasteful.
“All right," he consented briefly;
and together, arm In arm. they stmn
bled and tacked across the trenctierous
deck, and presently crossed the thresh
old Into the hazy light of the smoking
room. Hnmton. smiling broadly, wiped
the brine from hls smarting eyes.
"Now, then.” he said, "what particu
lar brand of poison do you—" And
broke off short and starefl. fascinated,
at the extraordinary young man In
front of hlut.
He was anywhere from twenty-five
to forty, this American from the dis
tant trenches, and hls age was as hard
to guess as a clever woman's; there
wus something about him peculiar to
youth, and yet when hls face was in
repose, he might easily have claimed
two score of years and gone undis
puted. It was a face which suggested
both the fire of Immaturity and the
drain of experience; there was breath
taking gravity about It. a hint of the
dignity of marble, of ageless perma
nence. It was a slightly thin face,
scarred by a heavy line or two. and
Indelibly stamped with the evidence
of Intense thought and Inward suffer
ing; but It lacked the hollows which,
at the first glance, should have sup
ported ihe evidence. It was a thin aud
oval face, with a mouth of large and
sympathetic sweetness, a forehead
white and high, a prominent, delicate
nose, and Irises of clear, luminous
gray. It wssn’t altogether au Anglo-
Saxon type of countenance, nor was
It definitely European; It seemed
rather to have taken all the better
qualities from several races. It was
a face to Inspire Immediate trust and
confidence and respect, and Harmon,
despite hls lack of practice In all three
of these reactions, waa evidently at
tracted by It.
"Vlchy-Celestlns for roe," said the
old-young man Indifferently.
"I’ll ... I guess I’ll have vlchy
too," said Harmon, relaxing. "If It
wasn’t for something I can’t Just de
scribe I'd suy . well, never
mind. Er . . . what business have
you been In, by the way?"
The younger man’s reply was tardy
and not particularly gracious.
"Why. the longest time I ever put
In at any one business waa selling In
surance. The last thing I did was to
sell bonds. Why?"
Harmou stiffened. "A talesman'
Good Ixml! That's the last ttdug In
the world I'd have . . . but. say!
You must Imve been a whirlwind!
Why. a man with a presence like yours
would hardly have to open his months
You’ve got a sort of . . . I'll be
hanged If I know what to call It . .
but a kind of feeling, if you know
what I Salesman! Why. nil
you need is an Introduction and a dot
ted line!”
The young man laughed rather for
lornly and sipped his vichy.
"Just ut present I haven't either.**
Harmon’s gaze was unfaltering, and
his Interest and admiration bounded
higher. Mechanically, In accordance
with his habits, he was striving to dis
cover how tills new acquaintance
might be put to practical use. “Was
"Meaning What?"
I right, or was I wrong? Playing In
hard luck don’t strengthen u man's
courage much, even If he tries to blufT
himself Into thluking it does. Cut out
the regret stuff; that's my advice, and
you can take It or leave It. Forget
all that tough luck you had over here,
anil get busy figuring out how you’re
going to cash In on all your experi
ence. America’s full of chances—
you’ll land something big In no time.
Can’t help It If you try. Salesman!
Son, you’re carrying your best recom
mendation right on top of your own
shoulders!”
The young man gave him back a wry
smile and finished his vichy.
“I only hope It conies true.” he said.
llurmon looked at him steadily, and
falling under the spell of those radiant
features stared and stared until he
came to himself and all at once
brought Ills fist down on the table, so
that the glasses rang again.
“Well, why shouldn’t it? As a mat
ter of fact, why shouldn't It?”
The younger man’s expression hadn't
chungcd. “Meaning what?"
"Meaning,” said Hnrmon deliberate
ly, "that the first thing I’ve got to do
when I get home is to hunt up a couple
of good salesmen myself. Are you
hunting for a good Job. or aren’t you?”
"Aren’t you a little hasty?” The
young man’s Intonation was sardoulc.
“I’ve cleaned up most of my money,"
shbl Harmon very slowly to the cell
ing. "by making quick decisions. I
make up my mind pretty fast. If you
can Interest me on short notice you
can Interest other people. Mind you,
we’re Just discussing this—sort* of
thinking out loud. No obligation on
either side. Doesn’t do any harm to
talk about It. does It?"
“Then suppose,” said the young man
placidly, “you define your idea of a
good Job. I’m rather particular.”
“But you admit you’re out of luck,
aud —’’
“But you admit I’m n whirlwind.”
The young man smiled with faint
amusement.
“I said you ought to be—with train
ing.”'
The young man’s mouth turned up
ward at the corners.
“Go ahead and describe the Job.”
"Well, my Idea of a pretty sweet Job
for a man of your age Is—to start, of
course—about twenty a week and
commissions.”
"Yes? What per cent commission?”
“Oh. eight to ten per cent.”
The young man glunced at Harmon
and laughed quietly.
“You're a broker, of course, but that
doesn’t sound much like conservative
Investment securities to me. What
is It—lndustrials?"
Hnrrnou grimaced.
"Yes. I’m a broker.” He set down
hls glass and fumbled for a card.
"There! But I was thinking more
about stocks than bonds. Some new
Montana properties—copper and xlnc.
Metals are the big noise these days.
I guess you realize that, don’t you?
Munition work.”
“I’ll show ’em whether 1 *
I can make good or not!”
(TO aa CONTINUED.)
Important to Mothers
■ mpvriani w mumvi*
Examine curefully every bottle of
CA8TORIA. that futnous old remedy
for infanta and children, and see that It
IUI 1IUBUU U1
Bears tbe
Signature of
Tn IToa n
In Use for Over 30 Tears.
Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria
Ready for Him.
nvau j iui mm.
Mrs. A—Does your husband smoke
fn the house?
Mrs. IS—Yes; and I’m glad of It. It
will be easy for me lo say where to be
gin if he ever remarks that we must
economise.—Hoston Transcript.
Shake Into Your Shoes
VflM Sprinkle in the Foot Bath
ALLEN’S FOOT-EASE Mjfo
The Antiseptic, Healing Powder
\ tor Tired, Swollen. Tender Feet. i
X Corns. Bunions, Blisters, Callouses. X4/Yl*VmXn4c
\ 11 freshens the feet and makes walk
\p,Wi Ing easy. 1,500,000 pounds of powder 1 i latwAv/
Bfc for the feet were used by our army 5,-1 A itt-W*/
and navy during the war. (T-ve-i fly
A»k for Allen's FtKil-Ka.tr.
How About Your Catarrh?
Do You Want Real Relief?
Then Throw Away Your Sprays
and Other Makeshift Treat
ment.
Why? Simply because you have
overlooked the cause of catarrh,
and all of your treatment has been
misdirected. Remove the cause of
the dogged-up accumulations that
choke up your air passages, and
they will naturally disappear for
good. But no matter how many
local applications you use to tem-
KEEP TROUBLES TO YOURSELF
The World, as a General Thing, Has
Little Use for the Man Ad
dicted to Self-Pity.
The trouble with the man in n little
trouble is tluii he Is inclined to pity
himself and imagine lliut he is the
only innn who over bad a trouble.
All he can see in the moment of bis
irritation is bis own burden. It seems
not to occur to him that at the very
moment be is wrestling with bis ditli
culty thousands of people around him
are fighting against far greater odds
and in much greater danger.
Trouble, anyhow. Is u part of the
game of life. Nobody ever went any
where or did anything worth while
wthout meeting it in one form or un
other. Let others pity you if they
will, hut don't waste any time pitying
yourself. The chances are that your
next door neighbor would lie tickled
to death if such troubles as you have
were all he had to worry about. —Ex-
change.
Hard Boiled Eggs.
J. Lester Hyman, a farmer near Lo
gan sport, says that on Easter morning
he heard one of Ids Black Laugshan
hens cackle in the hennery of hls
farm. He hurried to the place, mid
there on the floor lay a nice brown
egg. It was still warm. The man pro
ceeded to the house to fry the egg for
breakfast.
Giving it to his.wife, who was at
the stove frying other eggs, lie asked
that this fresh one he cooked for him.
On attempting to crack the egg to
place the contents In the skillet it was
found to he hard-boiled. Hyman's
hopes of having a lien that laid hard
boiled eggs were shattered when hls
wife remembered that she laid Just
placed egg shells taken from boiled
eggs in the hennery and that the lmrd
boiled egg found Imd undoubtedly been
left among them. —Indianapolis News.
That Depends.
"Don’t you believe the fruits of any
hard work compensate for its toil?"
"Not when you are banded n
lemon.”
Instant
Postum
Costs less than coffee
Far more Healthful
Ask your grocer for
Posxun instead
of coffee.
“Theresa Reason"
Made ty Postum. Cereal Cb.,Battle CreekJ“fich.
I ■
\\ IMMGCSTXMT/
RriKsJa
~ Pau.’awo
1 WDTOF
K-‘r X Sum, Balfarf
mb b ■ an a
VL iL |_ H MNa
FOR INDIGESTION
porarily clear them away, they
will promptly re-appear until their
cause is removed.
S. S. S. is an antidote to the mil
lions of tiny Catarrh germs with
which your blood is infested. A
thorough course of this remedy
will cleanse and purify your blood,
and remove the disease germs
which cause Catarrh.
For free medical advice write to
Chief Medical Adviser, 101 Swift
Laboratory, Atlanta, Ga.
Mint Coining Gold Again.
For the first time in four years the
coinage of gold was resumed during
May at the Philadelphia mint, the out
put having been 15,000 double eagles
with a value of £."00,000. Though
working on one shift of eight hours.
Instead of two. the mint also turned
out 8,800,000 pieces of minor coins of
the value of £1,427,000. This included
340.000 half-dollars. ”180,000 quarters.
4,000,000 dimes and 3,309,(100 pennies.
11l addition 11,040,00 pieces of silver
and nickel were turned out for the re*
public of Cuba.
Improved Living Conditions.
Perhups, as the luxury taxes indi
cate. not far from .<8,50,000.000 have
been spent on indulgence since the
armistice: yet there are signs that the
masses are not wasting all their In
creased income. Living conditions for
the laboring man have Improved, and
h«i will never go hack to the conditions
of the past. A Cincinnati company in
the Iron trade reports that there is a
demand today for 12 bathtubs where
there was a demand for one ten years
ago. Certainly that is an indication
of better living conditions ami a sign
of progress in the forward march of
civilization. —World’s Work.
Friend Father.
“What do you think about my en
gagement to Harold?" asked Gwendo
lyn.
"I think,” replied her father, “that
I am getting to ho the senatorial
branch of this family. My advice and
consent are considered only when it's
too late for them to make any differ
ence."
A Roland for an Oliver.
"Did you hear what the fat wom
an said to the specialist?"
"No; what was H?"
“He told her not to bant and she
told him not to banter.”
Agree with a contentious man and
keep on talking; and pretty soon you
will find he is arguing with you.
A talkative man is apt. to be as good
natured as lie is foolish.