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Hobo" By EDWIN BALMER (Copyright.) One crime remained for No. 32- mixed freight, west bound. Short handed and overloaded (live In the crew and eighty-three cars), she had “broken” twice, stopped for hot box four times, and had been forced to double over every hill from Crews to Btockton. Therefore, nt Renton she had “laid out" No. 17, east-bound passenger; nt Jefferson she had held up No. 33, the fast freight of refrigerated perishables rushing to Chicago; at Evans she had delayed passenger No. lft for half an hour; at Brunswick she had held back passenger No. 24; and last, at Lavern she had laid out, for almost an hour, the crack Transcontinental Express No. 0, east bound. In ten minutes No. 32 would com plete the culendar by laying out No. 10 also, the twin Transcontinental rush ing up from behind. The siding at Stockton (which the freight had been allowed fifty minutes to reach from Lavern, ton miles back) was still eight miles ahead, and forty of the fifty min utes were gone. The crew, out thirty-eight hours, were exhausted, exasperated, humili ated. They had freighted too long to mind the mere thirty-eight hours’ exhaustion and exasperation, but till.* time the humiliation was overdone. Their superiors had humiliated then personally and pointedly at the large! towns and by wire at the stops between. Their equals on the other trains had humbled them ns they slunk Into the sidings; hut what was entirely Intol erable, their Inferiors und worse, the very hobos stealing rides on the train, had mocked them and rubbed it In. Thirty hobos had hoarded the train at the hill beyond Lavern, overborne the weak crew, broken into a car of foodstuffs, and, after eating whnt they wanted, had scattered the rest ulong the right of wuy till It had censed to amuse them. The crew had found It best to sulk very Hilently in the caboose nt the end of the train till the volley of stones smashing through the windows told that the tramps had departed. Then, as one man, the crew of No. 32 sprung for ward for revenge. The object was still asleep In the “empty” at the middle of the train. The crew had come upon him some hours before; but thut was before they had learned the personal advantages of enforcing the rule to eject tramps, and bofore they had laid out the lust two passenger trains und the Trans continental, and received the tele graphic comments thereon. Hurrlng kicked the object to con sciousness while Knlvert and Render, one on each side, picked him up. One of the others opened wider the big door of the box car. “One,” llurring remarked, with an- ! other kick, as Knlvert and Bender swung the holm between them. “Two,” Ilarrlng kicked again. No. 32, In a last spurt to reach the siding before No. 10 could overtake It, put on speed and Jumped ahead, but the men in the car did not heed It. "Three!" The hobo, at the touch of lfarrlng’s foot, swung free from the hands on either side and dove out through the door In n low puraholu. A howl! and for an instant a gray gap appeared In the flying hedge beside the track. “He’s hit the road," muttered Ilar rlng. “What do you want Ur hurt a man for?" He blamed It upon the others. “Why couldn't you let hlpi go Into the bush?" Knlvert spat upon the floor, but turned his face away from the lantern. “We're hitting it up," he observed carelessly. “The damned hobo.” Bender grunted gruffly. The'hobo drew himself up on his hands. He felt stunned and deudened all over, and was conscious more of n battered dullness than of pain. He had a numbed understanding that lie must have been quite senseless ufter he struck—not for very long, but for a few moments anyway. Yet as he dragged himself around and sat up, he saw that he could scarce ly have lost consciousness. They had thrown him off half-way around a curve, and the red light of the caboose was still visible at the farther horn of the crescent. He gazed nt it stupidly and rubbed his eyes with Ids swollen knuckles, but ■till the red light persisted there, and it came to him slowly that the train must have stopped; The wagon road the tramp had been thrown upon might lend to a town, but he couldn't tell how far off It might he, or In which direction. The train was there, and now that he was hurt the holm thought he might get the crew to let him ride to the next station; it not, he might hide himself somehow. He was wondering only whether he could catch them in time to usk them to let him ou ugain; nud If they wouldn't, he was planning where he might hide from f 'em. Then be saw tha* something was the matter with the train. The cars were not straight on the track, but were lying across It In every direction. The roofs had slid down und the sides bulged out. Big boards and barrels and boxes were thrown about, and as far as the tramp could see through the darkness, the wavy line of cars *lg tagged crazily over both sides of the track. Some were rolled over on thalr aides. But nowhere in tha long Una waa there u sound or sign of Ufa, although the little flaring wick in the red lamp at the rear of the train still burned. The tramp pulled the lamp from Its fastening and walked along the wreck age, until, from under a pile of boards at bis feet, he heard a groan. The hobo kicked the boards and the groan sounded again. He leaned over, and, with a queer, silly feeling at bis weakness, tugged Ineffectually at the plunking. Ills Angers kept letting go their hold and he sat buck helplessly, but lie knew the man underneath was conscious now, for the muttering** wars audible, though still incoherent. “Number ten . • . ten • • • 1 ten . . . ten . • • damn • . . ten . . . ten . . . ten —■" the man underneath was saying as .the hobo tugged over him. The tramp tore a board free and the man below shuddered and twisted his head In. the ragged hole. “Number ten, damn you,” he gasped In pain from the weight of which his lungs were relieved. "Stop ten . . . ten . . . you damned hobo," he gasped as the puln gripped him aguln, “atop ten —the ex press train behind us," he explained madly, “stop It . . . stop It . . . lantern there . . . run . . . run . . . run! —” The holm understood at last, and Ilarrlng sank back again unconscious. The tramp was running mechanical ly. automatically, at the trainman's bidding. From far away the whistle of No. 10 came to him, half startled him from Ills automatism, and he raced on more consciously. Ills legs wobbled queerly as he forced them and lie stumbled between the ties, sometimes stuggerlug two or three steps back ward to save his balance before he could lunge madly forward agnlu. The second screech from N'o. 10 echoed past him, and, as he looked fearfully ahead and did not see the engine, lie suddenly recalled that he was on the curve and spurred on more desperately, throwing himself forward now as he stumbled and pressing him self up again with hla free hand when lie fell. It was quite two hundred yards to the beginning of the straight stretch which he must reach to signal the train. Again No. 10 whistled, but now the sound. Instead of coming around the crescent ahead, seemed to the tramp to come through the woods at his side, und, as he glanced aside, it seemed to come directly through the opening where a path ran through the trees. Spontaneously facing about to the di rection of the shriek, the trump raced Into the cut-off. • The pound of the train now came to him clearly as he ran; but the sino*ith dirt of the path spread before him. Yet he lurched over It with high, strain ed strides, and. still feeling for the treacherous ties when they were no longer there to trip him, he slipped nt first. But bis stride soon adapted It self and he reeled on to beat the train. To bent the train! The exhaust of the Transcontinental's great engine al ready hissed through the trees about him. yet he had to heat the train. lie had to beat It, but he could hear It coming so fast that his little steps seemed nothing. He could feel the pain of his muscles and the heat of his feet upon the path, but compared with the tremendous rush of the train, he seemed held by a weight. In the opening ahead be saw the track where It crossed his little path, and he had to heat the train to that track! Madly, thinking only to win the race, and to lighten himself, he hurled the signal lantern from him and seemed to gain a little. The track showed plainly before him, almost ul his feet, so plainly that he knew the headlight of the engine was almost over the spot where the path crossed It. To beat the train there—tq beat the train. He didn't know where his strength came from or that It came at all till It stiffened his legs and steadied him. He was ten feet from the track, hut the train was utmost as near the crossing. To bent it now —to win at the finish! The white glare of the headlight smote Ids eyes hut he shut them and threw himself forward blindly, with his arms thrown out. It was the end of the race, and wildly, madly now, the engine—the big, pounding engine beaten by the little man —roared to try to frighten him uwny and win after all; but the little tunn wouldn't be frightened or cheated. NVlth the blind, reckless burst of his triumph, he gathered himself, hurtle*] forward—uud beat the train to the track. “The ernzy, damned hobo," the en gineer of No. 10 sputtered to the group which gathered about the pilot. “Sui cide; suicide, that's what it Is. Jumped right out of the hushes there nnd threw himself under the wheels. Heard me whistle, didn't you? But he was bound to kill himself. “Thought he might he crazy and I gave her sand nnd reversed her; hut he was under the wheels as soqn as I saw him. Suicide; suicide . . . Jove right under the wheels . . . and I'll get raked for killing him! Killing him? Lord I" A tunn Bender blood-spattered und winded, burst through the group and clung, panting, to the engineer. "Thank God y* stopped. Thirty-two's all over the track 'round the curve and . . . what stopped gat Ran over man? . . . Lord! !t*s tha crazy hobo we swung off 'bout her*. . . . Lucky fr you he got on the right o' way . . . nnd fr us, too—the poor, crazy hobo—" But the engineer of No. 10 was kneel ing and fingering gently tha rough cloth of the sleeve of the man tying under the pilot "Poor, crazy hobo,” he murmured very softly, "poor, crazy hobo.* CROWNING GLORY By MILDRED WHITE. (Copyright, IMS, Western Newspaper Union.) Constance sat before the glass, studying her own plaintive face. "Why,” she nuked herself, “had youth passed her by, leaving so few of Its pleasures. For surely this silvery shimmering crown upon her head waa proof that youth hnd gone, and she mast no longer deceive herself with Its possible coming Joys.” Thoughtfully she unloosed the heavy colls of hair, letting it fall In a wavy mass about her shoulders, almost. It seemed to hnve turned white In a night. A few silvery strnnds which appeared from time to time hod not seemed to matter, but now—Con stance’s dark eyes were brooding nnd pathos curved her red lips. Always she had been attendnnt upon a pa tient Invalid In a wheel chair. And while girl companions enjoyed them selves here or there, Constance solaced herself with the thought that faithful service wns the least she could give. In gratitude for the care her aunt had bestowed upon her own orphaned childhood. Now Annt Della waa gone, and after a long sojourn In the outer world, from witch she hnd been withheld, Constance returned agnln, with a grateful sense of home coming to the empty house on the hilt Constance hnd arisen early upon this first Sunday of her home-coming, nnd hnd gone alone to nnswer the call of the bell swaying high In the old church steeple. Very conscious wns she of the silent nudges nnd whisper ings In her direction. "Do you see Constance Gall?" she could fancy her old neighbors saying; "her hair has turned white." Resentfully she glanced at the cop»- panlons of her girlhood, with their brown or blnck locks unchanged; yes, youth hnd been unkind In leaving her so soon. Thus, as she sat before her mirror, Into the eyes that still were young, enme a sudden retrospective smile. After all. there hnd been a few hours of enchantment, of light-hearted irresponsibility, nnd though these oc casions stood out with startling dis tinctness, perhaps the one best re membered wns that of the olden-tlme party nt Stnuntons. She hnd gone dressed as a Colonial mnlden, while a friend hnd stayed with her aunt for company, and perhaps the memory of this evening wns especially pleasura ble because of the daring, mysterious cavalier who had claimed her undivid ed attention. Seated now before her mirror, the fnce of Constance flushed between Its curtain of silvery hulr; the man had kissed her good-night, and she had never forgotten the kiss. Why should she recall the episode now, awakened to the fact of a youth past and gone? With careless grace she pinned up the masses of her hair and moved toward the door. It was the twilight bell which called to wor ship. Ilatless, through the summer night, Constance followed on down the lane. Back In the old family -pew, a sensation of being steadily observed caused her to raise her eyes to the gal lery; nnd there, looking down upon her, ns though In glad recognition, was the very same daring face. ( Older, of course, was this man In the gallery, with a certain grave dis tinction, hut there could be no mis taking the fine, frank face or the deep eyes with their humorous twinkle. Hardly hnd she stepped out again Into the night, when he wns at her side. "I claim remembrance," the man said quickly, “from the long ago. You may hnve forgotten a certain hold young guest of the Stnuntons, who attended their olden-time party, but I have nev er forgotten my charming companion, whose name I hnd not even known. You must pardon me for nsslstlng your recollection; we met during the eve ning of the party upon the veranda, and In n spirit of youthful adventure, preferred to spend the evening with out learning each other’s identity. At midnight, like Cinderella of the ball, you disappeared, and—” he laughed shortly, "I saw yon no more.” Constance, gnzlng Into the man's eyes, smiled. "I remember It all,” she said; "but you are mistaken as to the last. Several times upon the street afterward I passed you without rec ognition. That wns the humiliating ending of my adventure.” "Impossible l” the man declared. "Why, I wnlked the village streets, senrchlng In vain for a golden-haired maid. From the fair texture of your skin, I fancied your hair must be gold en. The night of the dance, you may recall, It was powdered white, glorious ly white, like some olden-tlme picture. Beneath It your eyes, with ‘their dark brows and lashes, were beautiful.” The man wns walking along now* at her side, seeming almost to forget the fact of her real presence. In the de light of her past fancied one. Through the years thnt are gone,” he went on, "I hnve kept upon my dress ing table, the picture of a white-haired, red-lipped colonial maid, nnd Just be cause she reminded me of you.” Constance stood still in the center of the path. "So thnt Is why it all came back to you tonight," she said slowly, "because of mywhite lmlr.” Her voice broke tremulously. "It Is not powdered now,” she said; It Is whitened by all those years thnt aro past.” . And there In the witchery of moon light. with the fragrance of flowers all about them, the man stood looking down Into her fnce. “You nse ns I hoped one day to find you.” he said, "and your hair Is your crowning glory,” EXPLANATION DID NO GOOD If Anything Mr. Mollleor*s State ment Had a Tendency to Make tha Situation Worse. "Men are more cruel than women,” asserted Mrs. Molllcor. “Now, my dear," protested Mr. Molllcor, "you shouldn’t make such a broad statement; Yota can't Indict a whole sex. Upon whnt sporadic in stance do you base your sweep ing conclusion?” “Well, you know, I Joined the Dumb Animals' Protective associa tion. and I find that In our group there are sixty women members and only three men. Doesn’t that prove thut women are Interested In kindness and humane movements, and that men don’t care a thing about It?” “No. It’s on nccount of the name of the organization. The terrible af fliction of dumbness appeals more to feminine sympathy than to masculine That's alt” “You’re a brute.” "Then be kind to me.* (And so forth). TO THE FIRST FALLEN. They need no atone to tell their fame. Those lads who fell beneath Old Glory In that fair land acrosa the sea— A land whose tale Is one brave story. Their fame Is sure, though none may know \ Their names—those lads of valor knightly; Upon God’s flag of liberty Their stars shall shine forever brightly. Free men were they to freedom born; Life came to them In plenteous meas ure; And yet. that others might be free. They gave ell, counting death a pleas ure. Their fame within our hearts shall live* The years can nevar dim their glory; They shamed us for our coward hearty They pointed us ths way to glory. "Onward, Christian Soldiers.” viinaiwt Old Caesar thought he knew some thing about the tented field, having fol lowed his master aa body servant through the war between the states but Camp Jackson was a revelation to hint. "Ter mean, Maas' Jeems,” he cross examined his young maussn, "dat dcn« young gera’n can't drink nothin’ strong er’n spring water!” “That's alt” "And no frolllckln* wld de galsT” “None whatever." "An* no swearln' at de mules?” "Against regulations.” "Lor, Maus' Jeems, dlsher ain't nt camp. Dlsher's a camp meetln'l” Columbia State. Bacon or Beer. One of the English papers report! the case of a farmer of Essex who hat been summoned for using his barley tc feed pigs. It is not a case of dellberat< waste at all, apparently, but one rising from the farmer’s convictions on th< subject of drink. He objects to grow ing barley to moke beer, and, since bacon is a commodity always In de mand, and It not too plentiful these days, he has come to the conclusloc that his barley will be a good deal bet ter employed Id fattening his pigs that In adding to the country's beer supply. It is a logical position, and one won ders what the magistrate will make of it Keep Pictures of British Dead. The federal government of Mel bourne has decided to follow the ex ample of tbe British war Museum au thorities and obtain photographs of the men who have given their lives In the war, and of others who have won awards and decorations. In order tc avoid duplication of the effort Mr. W. E. Mate, vice president of the Amateui Photographic society of Victoria, who has undertaken on behalf of the Brit ish war museum to collect the photo graphs, will do tbe same for the Aus tralian war museum now being estab lished. Crosses on Mount of Olives. In a letter from Jerusalem, telling of a tour of Inspection of tha Red Cross units with General AUeoby'» forces, Mrs. EM Ith H. Phillips saya: "They must have made a magnificent fight all up the hillsides, especially Neb! Sumwll. There are numerous little crosses ou the mountains. Those on the Mount of Olives look sad, but wonderfully Impressive.” Nebl Sumwll has the traditional tomb of the prophet Samuel and Is Identified Tilth Mlzpah, the city of Ben jamin. His Turn. There were 12 In the party that stood at the ice cream soda water fountain. "Pve Just figured It up,” said one of them. "Figured, what?” "No man can drink more than one glass of this stuff at a time. Jim will stand treat tomorrow, so on on down the line. It will be my turn to buy for the gang a week from next Satur day. I’ll meet you nil here then." Insects Follow Balloons. Lieutenant Deprlt-Blxlo of (hi French aviation service writes that many Insects follow captive balloons in their ascent He has seen files go as high as 24170 feet, after which they file. Grasshoppers cling to the basket of the balloon until the air becomes too rarefied for them, when they let go and fall. He says the swallows have a glorious time catching these InsecUb DOWN-AND-OUTER By MILDRED WHITE. (Copyright, 1018. by Western Newspaper Union.) Nan stood at the window, and drummed, not at all disconsolately; she had often wondered how it might feel to he penniless in a strange city. Now she knew, hut the knowledge seemed irresponsibly vugue. "Here I am,” said* Nun to the ca nary, “without a cent in the world, and the fuct does not affect mo at all.” Determinedly she sut before a mir ror studying her own bright face. “Can’t you realize the seriousness of your failure?" she went on. “The musicul cureer which brought you here Is ended. Your last pupil libs gone, your board hill is paid uutll Monduy only, and then whnt will it be?” Back In the country one heart was ready to claim her, hut Nun turned Impatiently from thnt devotion. If she married It must he for love. If not, of whnt use were u!l the old golden drennis, the charm of romunce which made youth beautiful? She jumped up. “Oh, something will happen,” suld ■Nun. “In all this big world there must be a little place for me. What did Mammle Chloe use to sing, “Turn out your silver-linin', chile; show your own silver-linin’.’ ” Spreading her, wardrobe upon the bed preparatory to packing, Nan hummed the song, then rebuked her self. “Nnn Robins, you’re not acting much like a down-und-outer, nnd that’s what you are; a regular down-and outer.” Her voice trailed off musingly, fehile her head bent appraisingly over a violet silk petticoat. Silk petticoats were not much to Nan’s needs these days, when her elbows persisted in finding their way through the last of her waists. Here was one of Invender chiffon, cast away because of that same fault Nan gave a cry. "Why not combine the useless petticoat nnd the unfortunate chiffon Into a whole and presentable waist? ‘Your silver-linin’, chile,’ ’’ hummed Nan, and crossed the hall to a nelghor’s apartment “Oh, Mrs. Burns,” she sold. “I am going to ask as a favor the use of your sewing machine for the afternoon, if I might wheel It acrosa the hall, and offer you anything for exchange, my victrola, perhaps? Would you care to have it for a few days?” But Mrs. Burns was only too glad to accommodate her cheery neighbor. “At six,” Nan said, “I will wheel the machine back Into your rooms, nnd yon will not be able to appreciate how much you Khve helped me.” Before six Mrs. Burns came Into Nan's sunny room, where the canary sang In tuno to her busy sewing. "You must pardon my Invasion,” Mrs. Burns said, "and my quick acceptance yt your friendship. Ido get so lonely, iway from my own young friends, and there is something about the very way you carry yourself, Bliss Robins, which gives one courage. I suppose »elng busy and successful, as you are, gives one a sort of confidence. Oh, what a love of a waist!” “Do you think so?" asked Nan. "I have becu trying to follow out the Idea of a -high-priced waist In *The Women’s Shoppe,’ but violet and lav ender are not becoming to me.” She laughed. *Td sell the whole thing for two dollars.” Little Mrs. Burns caught up the waist and held it beneath her face. "If you really meant that you’d sell It,” she said, “I would give you five dollars In a minute.” “It does look lovely on you,” Nan slowly agreed. “I would like to give It to you.” • “My dear child!” the brido ex claimed, “do you think 1 could accept your material and work?" Nan made a hasty mental calcula tion. “Four dollars, then,” she said suddenly. Joyfully Mrs. Burns assisted in roll ing the machine back across the hall. “And you will go to the matinee with me tomorrow?” she begged. “You have not been giving lessons lately?” Mrs Burns inquired the next day. “I do not heunyour piano. Are you resting?” “No,” Nan replied, “I am not rest ing. My classes are closed. I must go. away Monday.** “My dear!” her companion com plained. "Just when I had hope*}, to know you better. Where are you going?” Nun gnzed far out over the chimney tops; her eyes were still untroubled, nnd she smiled. Suddenly Mrs. Burns arose to beck on a tall man who crossed the res tnurnnt floor. Hat In bund, he ad vanced to their table. "Why, Tom,” greeted the bride, "when did you come to town? Miss Robins allow me to introduce my brother. You will sit with us, Tom?” The tall young roan obeyed with alacrity. "I came In this morning un expectedly,” he explained. "Want to place a good pianist with our agency here. Gregor, who hns been playing the piano In our studio. Is too much of a banger. Think a woman's touch would better emphasize the tone. But my time In town is limited. Happen to have an acquaintance you could rec ommend temporarily for the position, Betty?" Mrs. Burns put out her hands to Nan. "If Bliss Itohlns would only be persuaded to consider it," she sug gested. The fnan turned to look into Nan'a ■till visionary eyes. Into his own came a quick, # eager light. "You would have to begin your du ties at once,” he told her. Nan’s smile deepened. "This afternoon," she agreed. COAL SHORTAGE ON WAY; GOVT. SAYS BUY NOW May B« Repetition of 1917-18 Conditions Next Winter Says Geological Survey. MINES IDLE WITHOUT ORDERS. Those Who Delay Ordering Longer May Not Get Their Fuel Later On. The United States Geological Burrey announces from Washington the prob ability of another general coal short age next fall and winter. The an nouncement Is based, the Survey states, upon a nation-wide study of conditions In the bituminous field. Unless steps are taken at once, the Survey says, to place the mines upon a basis of Increased production there Is every prospect of s repetition to some degree of the situation that pre vailed In the United States during the winter of 1917-18. The only way production can be stim ulated at the present time, it Is said. Is by placing orders with the mines for coal which will be needed later on. “Production during the first five months of the year,” rends the statement, "fell 57,292,000 net tons, or approximately 25% below production during the first five months of 1018. Bllnes are produc ing coal now at the rate of from 8,000,- 000 to 8,500,000 tons a week. An aver age* output of 10,700,000 tons a week must be maintained from Jane 1 to January 1 next if the country's esti mated needs-of 500,000,000 tons this year are to be met” Evil of Delayed Orders. At no time during this year has the rate of production approached the re quired tonnage. The tendency on the pnrt of buyers to hold off placing their orders Is limiting production, as the mines ennnot store coal at the point of production, and when the rush of orders for the winter's needs comes next fall there Is grave danger that the mines, with depleted labor forces and the probability of less adequats transportation, will be unable to meet the demands. The result of such a sit uation would be an insufficient supply for the requirements of domestic con sumers, public utilities and industrial users generally. “It Is believed that requirements for this year,” reada a Survey statement to Fuel Administrator Garfield, "will he about 530,000,000 tons of bituminous coal, of which approximately 80,000,000 tons have been used from stocks accu mulated last year, leaving 500,000,000 tons to be produced. Of this 500,000,- 000 tons 178,000,000 tons were produc ed during the first five months, leaving 322,000,000 tons to be produced In the remaining 30 weeks, or an average of 10,700,000 tons a week. "Thus far this year production has been at the rate of 8,200,000 tons s week. In 1918 production was at the rate of 11,300,000 tons a week. “This production will be difficult of ac complishment. The capacity of operat ing mines at the present time with labor now on the payroll is about 10% lower than It was last year. This deficiency may be made up In part or wholly If tbe mines have orders sufficient to run them five or six days a week unless the threatened exodus of foreign-born labor occurs. May Be Car Shortage. “Present wage agreements between operators and miners expire with the proclamation of peace by the Pres ident. A suspension of mining oper ations while a new wage agreement is being negotiated would, of course, seri ously Interfere with the production of coal and If It should occur during the fall would cause a panic among buyers and consumers of coal." There Is no use in gambling upon this or any other contingency, fuel ad ministration official* say. The firm or individual who wants to be sure of an adequate coal supply next winter can he certain by buying coal now. There Is no other way such assurance can he obtained. Transportation also promises to be a limiting factor If the flood tide of demand comes at a time when the country’s record crops are being carried. In some districts It would appear certain that, notwith standing the utmost endeavors of the Railroad Administration and the util ization of tts experience last fall, car shortage will be a cause limiting bitu minous con) production, and for that reason it Is problematical whether the expected production of 500,000,000 tons can he attained this year. Shortage of labor already Is s fac tor that la cutting down the output in some coal producing sections, accord ing to the Survey's report. The opera tors report that from 36,000 to 40,000 foreign-born miners expect to return to Europe as soon as they can get pass ports and that many jiave already re turned. If continued this movement will he capable of producing but one result—a reduction of the amount of coal mlued in districts where the mine labor la largely foreign-born, and there are many such districts. He who needs coal should hesitate no longer. Now Is ths tims to buy SMU.