Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 147, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 June 1919 — Something of a Cold Snap [ARTICLE]

Something of a Cold Snap

By GEORGE L. SURREY

(Oop/n«M) The construction of the new coldstorage room at the Washington-hotel was nearing completion, ami Jacob Hickman, the proprietor of that palattal summer hostelry so writ known to Galveston residents, was paying bis twentieth daily visit to the scene of operations, “Satisfied, Mr, Hickman, , eh ?” — Mr, Smart, the clever; engineer, who had been sent down to superintend matters by the big eastern firm which had the contract in hand, came and stood at the hotel proprietor's elbow. “Looks all right. I guess.” . “All rlghtl Why, sir, that safe’s a stroke of genius, though I say it. It’s a revelation. I’ll guarantee there’s nothing like it in all the states —nothing to hold a tallow dip to it.” Mr. Smart's professional pride appeared hurt at his clienfs very inadequate commendation? “Say. 1 didn’F mean anything,” Mr. Hickman hastened to .explain. “I ’have no doubt it’s a fine safe. Come an’ have a drink." At the bar Mr. Smart went through the complete Inventory of the peculiar beauties and distinctive merits of the cold room. v -. - onthusia.s.Uo. ally. “Biggest thing of its kind I've ever struck. Thirteen-inch walls, solid concrete; patent flooring, damp-proof, rot-defying, finest arrangement of cooling pipes ever laid —and then, the door.” “Ah, it’s a good door!" the owner assented. “So good that no one'll ever have another like it you bet. Firm couldn’t do another at the price. “To tell you the truth, sir, we’re doing this as an advertisement. See? Ah, you were lucky to get our firm to handle this job, I can tell you. Why, there’s six inches solid Oregon. pine In that door, and the backing and facing’s the best one-an’-three-quarter-inch chilled steel plate. “We brought that door over in one piece. Takes four men to lift it, yet it swings on its hinges as easy as a Clock pendulum. Seen the lock?” “No. Anything special?” “I should say it is. That lock's my own invention, and I’ll bet there's no man in creation can pick it, if he works all night. "Nothing short of dynamite can 'hurt it Automatic, self-fastening, no trouble to turn, an’ strong as a nigger’s love for watermelon, kThat lock’s a daisy, she is.” Mr. Smart turned east with a fourfigured check in his pocket, and Jacob Hickman started in to enjoy his new possession and the envy of .all other hotel keepers in the neighborhood. He came to love that safe —it was the pride and joy of his life. Also, it became the dearest aversion of his 1 friends and acquaintances, and of everyone who came within earshot of him. No matter where he might be or what the subject of conversation, he inevitably managed to steer it around to the safe. - Once when he had talked his companions almost to the verge of insanity, .old Jeremiah MacLaren openly Informed him that, in his opinion, the safe was a snare of the devil; fha t Mr. Hickman's pride in it was nothing less than sinful, and that sooner or later he'd be visited by some terrible judgment in consequence. But Jerry MacLaren was a Scot, and a rival hotelkeeper to boot : so it may have.been jealousy, and not mere piety, which instigated his remarks. One day when Jacob Hickman went downstairs to pay one of his numerous daily visits to the safe, something happened. - .He unfastened the door, stepped inside, and feeling a slight drag on the loose alpaca jacket he was wearing, gave a sharp jerk. The action. if unthinking, was a perfectly natural one." Three seconds later there was a smart “click.” " Swinging around Jacob Hickman faced the safe door. It had closed be-, hind him. The door opened outwards. That slight jerk which had released his jacket—caught, probably, in the door knob—had set the heavy door in motion upon its well-oiled and nicely adjusted hinges—and the patent automatic lock had done the rest. Hickman was a stout man; it was a very hot day; add his forehead was covered with drops of perspiration when he entered the safe. ‘ , His paralyzed brain suddenly awoke and asserted itself, and he started to yell like a drunken Indian. t , Unthinking, he yellpdahd hafiimered at the door with his bare fists until he was exhausted and his knuckles were bruised and bleeding. By and by his breath came back, and he began to think with some measure of coherence and to realize the horror of his position. Here he was a prisoner without means of escape or hope of release’. True, the key of the door was In his pocket—he had taken it from the lock when he opened the safe. But that didn’t help him any. There was a duplicate key, but that was In a secret drawer of his bureau, and therefore useless. Indeed, if Hickman’s presence in the safe became known, no one could find it —even his

wife did not know whore It was hidden. / • Again, the .pipes filled with liquid ammonia kept the temperature of the safe down to spinething like five degrees .below zero: so that, even if he were located, and a dynamite .charge used to 'brthtk down the door, it was long odds that by the time 1 “he was taken out he would be frozen stiff as an iceberg. He screamed and yelled; he kicked and he hammered at the door; he dashed himself bodily against It; he wept, prayed and cursed, alternately and then altogether. Finally he lay' on the floor still, utterly wora^btvTrntr" moaning like a dog caught’Jn a trap. —His oye« gazed ' wirhmir.“sense of~ sight at the joints of meat hanging from the racks fixed below the celling. Something suddenly jolted his brain. A joint of venison at which he had been vaguely staring awakened hls mind to feeble activity. Back to his memory came the recollebtion that he had purchased that joint to be cooked in celebration of the birthday of-bis daughter. His daughter—little ten-year-old Marjory! I Why. he would never see her again 1 Escape was impossible; he was ns sure of death as if he were sitting in the electric chair. Jie was actually dying hy Inches. The tearsfwelled up In his eyes and trickled down his frozen cheeks. No, by heaven, be \yould not die! or, if he must, he would die fighting. Fiercely he fought against the lethargy and numbness that was enveloping him. With an effort he sat up and climbed stiffly to his feet. He caught sight of a number of stout_ -oaken billets he had brought down the previous day, intending to fix up supports for another shelf. He recollected bringing a hammer, too. Yes. there it lay In the corner. Sefeing the tool, he once more beat on the door. Perhaps someone would come down to the safe and hear the sound of his hammering. It was a poor chance, but he wouldn’t miss it; anyway, he would die fighting death. His vigorous efforts restored life to his body. His blows became more violent and presently the hammer handle snapped short at the head. Then a furious anger seized him. He called down curses on the clever engineer -who had constructed the door and invented the patent lock, on himself, and on all creation. Seizing one of the oak billets, he heat at the door as if it were Mr. Smart's ingenious head he was hammering. His arms ached horribly, but still he continued. Presently his frenzy-filled eyes seemed to see a faint crack in the solid metal in front of him. The length of timber splintered and broke in his hands, but snatching another piece he continued his furious onslaught. His straining eyes saw the solid metal slab bulging outwards. God in heaven! It was true, then! The steel had split, the crack was becojnlng wider before his eyes, a streak of white«showed between the dark, ragged edges. —-- No thought of the smart eastern engineering firm came into Jacob Hickman’s mind as he pushed his finger Into the gap and plucked forth soft shavings, cotton waste and refuse Wool until his finger nails scratched on the outside steel covering of the door. Inserting one end of his piece of oak into the crack—alas for the duplicity of mankind, the iron was no thicker than that <Sf a cooking-pan —Hickman shoved inward and used it as a lever, tugging and straining until the sheet-of metal ripped away like a strip of brown paper. Then using his weapon as a rammer he stabbed at the outside steel. - —— The sound of a human voice-caught his ears. “What de hell's de matter?” it said. Some one strolling into the basement had heard the infernal row.and come to investigate. He screamed hoarse direction, and in a few minutes the sharp teeth of a center bit was cutting -into the

iron. A small hole was soon made: Hickman passed the key through it to his deliverer, and then promptly fainted. There were wet bandages around Hickman's head when he came round. A dull ringing filled his ears; hishands were^nvelbpedTiTwrappings; he was in bed; and his whole body was so stiff and sore that when he moved he groaned with pain. To judge by the sensations in his feet he had no toes at all; but the 1 stumps burned and throbbed horribly. The doctor’s bearded face was bending over him when he opened his eyes, and his little daughter Marjory stood by the bedside holding his head. ‘"Touch and go.” said the doctor cheerfully. “I thought you were never coming to. Looked like a case for the coroner. Here, take a drop of this.” “Where am I?” whispered Hickman when he had swallowed the brandy. “At home. You’ve been lying here like this for three days. Thought it was all up. Don’t you remember? “They found you in your ice safe, almost "dead. Rather think one of your toes is gone for good; otherwise, you're all right" Jacob Hickman did not go under. The first thing he did was to bring suit against the eastern engineering firm who had built his ice safe, for misrepresentation and failure to adhere to contract specifications. The shock of his terrible imprisonment in the cold room had turned hts hail 1 quite white, but it left his brain in first-lass working order. He won his suit and got the damages be clalnlted. .•