Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 215, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 September 1920 — Page 2

Yellow Men Sleep

THE DESERT GUARDS.

Synopsis- — John Levlnxton. a poet, visionary end Impractical, and Karp Martin, the daughter of rich and worldly parents, hear the call of love and unite their Uvea They go to a small Michigan city, where John finds work in a stove factory and on Sundays writes verses. The Martins try in vain to get the happy wife to leave her husband. Mary begins to breathe for two. John loses his Job. He appeals In vain to the Martins. Mary goes to the hospital and never returns. Thus comes into the story ComeUus Levington. The father leaves town and the city farms out the child. After two yesrs the father returns and takes his little son with him on his worldwanderings. The father becomes the slave of a mysterious drug, koresh. with odors of wine and cinnamon, and returns with little Con to die on bis wife's grave. Con Is again farmed out, grows up in the underworld and Is saved for better things by Andrew March. So much by way of Introduction to the hero of the strange adventures of “Yellow Men Sleep." These begin when Con takes by force a small leather sack from Chee Ming, the Chinese cook of an acquaintance. This sack contains a Chinese map of the Gobi desert, which is precious beyond price to Andrew March. Eighteen years before armed men In the Gobi had taken March's wife and infant daughter from him. Now he sends Con In search of them. On' the voyage Con finds Chee Ming a fellow passenger. Chee Ming drugs Con and steals his map, but Con presses on toward Shim-sung. Con Is shot by a poisoned dart, and while he ts In the consequent stupor his map Is stolen. On the river boat to Peking he again sees Chee Ming, and realises they are seeking the same destination. Con keeps faith with Andrew March and starts on his mission westward with a caravan. After weeks of difficult travel he reaches the little settlement of Shan-sung and reads Instructions from Andrew March to the effect that Con has been made a federal agent to search out Chee Ming, who baa brought quantities of koresh, a deadly drug, to San Francisco, At Shan-sung Con Is unexpectedly Joined by March. The two Americans press forward Into the desert.

CHAPTER V—Continued. When the night was well advanced, near eleven by a white man’s reckoning, they went Into camp, and the drivers were stfll sullen. “Will they get used to It?” asked Con. March shook hls head, and at dawn, before camp was broken, roused himself from a light sleep to find the drivers In secret activity. It rather looked as if they were trying to get away with the camels. A gun cracked, and March turned sharply to see Con sitting up from his blanket, his carbine smoking. He, too, bad been watching the preparations. He had shot in the air, but both the yellow men fell face downward upon the sand. March went to them at once, paid them well in gold, gave them two big draws at the water-bags, and started them off together, eastward. Shan-sung * was within walking-distance. “I should have known better,” he ■said.... ' ' • »•, They did not see the old Chinese, who would no doubt make a wide de-

A Gun Crackled, and March Turned Sharply to See Con Sitting Up From His Blanket, His Gun Smoking.

Sour before torching the real trail. The country, although perfectly open and without tree* waa irregular. pTom the hillocks of naked earth one andd eee for leagues to the four dlreeti*'Tbey paced the camels through the lanrtjfc halted for a long noon, and SmSttMml the Jtod

rose, with its menacing rattle of sand, but It died before dark. At dawn they started again. The desert was less hilly, but great rocks emerged from the sand, and here were glittering lizards in the morning light, still asleep. The heavens were glassy. A wind held from the northwest and the nostrils of the beasts were stung to bleeding by the sand. Gcjlt had sifted Into Con’s clothing, next to his skin, and riding was a hardship. Dust grated in his teeth. That night Andrew March lit the watch-fire and It was Con’s tline for sleep. Their world was empty, soundless, Infinite, unknown. March did not call Levington at two In the mornlLc, as agreed, but permitted hls young friend to sleep until dawn. None could have known the reveries of this unusual man In the midnight hours — thoughts as remote as the stars, and ai hard to gage. He hod loved life, and the sweets of It had been taken from him long ago. It had been difficult for him to pass through Peking, city of hls birth and earliest influence. The quest that had drawn his father Stephen as a boy, across the American plains, onward across the Pacific, and yet onward to China, Peking and the dread Sha Mo was wrought Into the very texture of the mind and soul of the son. Andrew. The yearning of hls mother was woven there, also, as she had hoped, loved, prayed, resented, and finally mourned for Stephen until he returned, late by two years. This Gobi desert mastered him. The heart of China would not let him go. He coaid not live down the terrors that Peking had stamped upon him in infancy. Now he looked long at Con, sleeping beside the fire, relaxed, graceful, breathing steadily, something boyish and pure about him. Andrew March’s eyes shut against sudden tears. He arose silently and walked out, away from the camels, so far that the fire was only a red spark to him. The night spaces whispered in vague conspiracy, At daybreak the whole world was without color, only dead gray hills and gullies, rocks and shadows and vacant air. Levington wakened, glanced up at Andrew, who was making the morning tea; and it seemed as If the air were powdered with the delicate rooty aroma that Con associated with John Levington and all manner of evil fate. Then he realized that the faint spice of it was clinging about March. He said nothing but It was a black moment for him.

They studied their map, and held a field compass beside It. Their difficulty was to hold a direction, by reason of the twisted formation of desert surfaces. Each crooked line of rise or dip misled the eye, and the camels persisted In staying low, preferring to pass around a hill rather than take the safe straight line across It. March was watchful, usually silent. For their third camp they halted in a little valley wedge, out of the gale. All night the sand sifted in upon them, like gray snow, but this was preferable to facing the whip of it on the levels above. The fourth day they saw a different formation of rock. Closer, it showed to be the collapse of a city, yet one in no wise related to the villages they had left behind, for these buildings had once been of solid gray rock. Strangely, through a crack in the middle of a slab came the greenish-yellow line of a flame. It was gas from the depths of the world, and it burned slowly, waving like a transparent plume In the sheltered place. Of all that city of long ago, this eternal flame remained. The walls had been shaken down with terrible age; every block of stone was rounded smoothly by the blowing sand. The original level of the city had been much below the present. Levington shivered. He felt around him the faded life of another time, lingering human shadows tied to the stones. March moved solemnly over the tumbled pile, pausing before the languid green fire issuing from the rock. In the emptiness overhead* they saw a bird, high up and black, sailing steadily, watching these two* white intruders upon his dominion, seeming to wait with perfect patience until they should perish, and leave to him once more the crumbling, forgotten empire. Now, the black bag contained a saving grace—the razor, a holy Instrument, keen with decency. Con rubbed a bit of fat over his jaws and scraped with unction. Water was too precious to waste to lather. The oil was tolerable and cleansing. His cheeks were taut, the line of chin and jaw vividly marked. Sometimes his thoughts seemed about to surprise the ending of the story that Bill the cook had not finished that night in Elopura harbor. Sometimes he talked to March of th« mother he had never known. Yearning came to the surface, eagerness for far trails and nameless destination. Distance was to him like the thought of home to other men. The horizon, shrouded afar, drew him on. In this rhythm of desert travel, his body did not wear down any further but went into a state resembling that of the prairie wolf, who goes on and on without change. The sliverhaired friend aaraetime* « \ •

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IXP.

By JEREMY LANE

hummed to bhnself, ending with a shudder ; or stared Into the living ethers of twilight until his eyes would glow like sunset fire. “It seems to me," said - Con, “that we are always near some one, some other travel#*, not Chee Ming. I don’t know bpw to explain It. Other travelers—other kinds of travelers.” • “Where are they going?” asked March. ■ _ “Are yon laughing at me?” “Judge for yourself,” replied the elder man, and his manner conveyed no pleasantry. “Well, what do you hear, when the wind goes past?” pursued Levington. “Oh, the dust, l suppose, grating.” “Did you ever hear Me rumble of wheels?” “I’m not saying.” Their path touched another, smaller ruin, more deeply sunken. One of the great blocks of stone remained on top, unbroken. This ancient city had been builded upon a river, for the course of it was still outlined between erosions. A gray skull, retaining all its teeth, was perched upon a point of rock, and

Riders Were Down Upon Them, an Avalanche of Ferocity.

the dusty sockets stared forever eastward. Andrew March regarded it thoughtfully. “This Mongol was a good boy, but he’s a modern compared to the rest of this.” “I said we weren’t always alone.” Only a few stones were here in view, and a river-bed long dry; yet Con peered about uncertainly. Old violence lurked in the sunshine. The sand was changing in tint as they rode westward, and to the north, showing patches of rust color. Small cliffs raised above the shallows, their strata bronze and a flaky blue. Through long days they traced out the route indicated upon the map. The moon diminished and darkened again, and still they were able to-cross off the angles of the parchment only a bit at a time. On certain evenings the northern horizon seemed to shift and crawl. Far flying shapes peopled the bills on the world’s rim. Smaller presences, too, darted away from the watch-fire, like shadowy butterflies. Con never quite saw thqse things. They always moved just out of range of vision, and he could never turn sharply enough. They were like the nimble hands of old Chinese Bill. “Why are you staring at me?” he asked of March. “What do you see?” countered the other.

“Nothing.” said Con. 4 “That’s what I thought,” laughed March. But his laughter was empty, and It seemed oddly to be caught up by the breathing of the caifaeljS, and then tossed out overhead. “I suppose that rushing cloud off there is the dust,” said Levington after a while. “No doubt," replied March, “but I don’t see It” In the fifth week they found water, a little greasy marsh. Thus far there had not been one glimpse of Chee Ming, and there were no signs here. Eight more days westward, sometimes to the north, and they reached a spring of clear water. The beasts cried and sucked and trembled. Other camels had been here before them, recently; their marks were in toe mud. If the map had been gaged properly. Con perceived that they were nearing toe end. A starving wolf sidled in toward the water-hole. He had never leaned fear. He stalked the led camels and lastly found his position to leap, when they shot him. The raiuelt were to a frenzy. - ;

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Beyond, there were no to ore rains above the surface. The sky belonged to another world. These plains and ridges of red sand were the busks of the planet Levington’s eyes with the distances in the glare of day sun. TWo of the camels were killed, to provide sustenance for the others, and the two men shared with the beasts. ..Now the high, winds, came in a bruising torrent as if the elements had turned enemy, and this was their threat. The beasts gave up, and were driven into a roaring gully where the blast was broken somewhat. It whined and rushed overhead, and began to bury them with sand. In this choking confusion the capture came quickly—a brief affair in which the white men were too late with their guns. Riders were down upon them, an avalanche of ferocity. The storm had obscured their coming. On horses demoniac and primal they had sped down through the sandstorm as if it were an April rain. These were monster men with silvery eyes. Their beards were hanging mats of sand, their mouths caked with dust. Close-fitting leather helmets enlarged their heads.

Leather thongs whipped out and circled Con’s arms, and he was helpless. In a moment strong hands were undressing the white men. The frightened camels were- being driven away. The strangers worked in a nervous heat, chanting a song or prayer, their voiceS mingling with the savage wind. Everything was taken from the prisoners, and dagger points were sent ripping through their garments. March was shouting, pleading with rich offers, but he received no reply—only his ruined clothing. Then the remainder of the party leaped and spurred their hairy beasts up the slope. The showering sand hid them 'again. Levington’s face and shoulders were numb with the pelting of little stones. It was all finished in a moment. "Are you all right?” asked Marsh. “Yes. They didn’t leave anything.” With extreme difficulty the two travelers stepped into and adjusted their rags. The map was gone, along with guns, gold, camels, provisions, water, and all sense of direction. Their eyes were red with pain. The wind blustered in dry fury,.*as if the riders might materialize out of it a second time. “They must lyive had us in view all day, perhaps yesterday, or they could not have found us in this weather,” satd March, hitching the ,remains of his trousers to a bit of shirt. “Those horses weren’t real,” said Con. “And how did they get me all tied up with leather 'before I could draw?” They spoke with levity that was not felt, each hoping by his calmness to cheer the other. The actual situation was too plain. Levington added: “At least we seem to be in the right neighborhood.” “We can wait here until we get straight by the stars,” said March. “I maintain that we did fairly well, to have come this far before they found us.” “Yes.” March pretended not to notice the trembling of his voice. Both were busy with new ways of assembling tattered garments. Then Con *saw that his friend was smiling. “Boy,” said March, “we may not find much to eat or drink, but we are not quite done for.” Levington nodded without comprehending, and his companion added: “We are not altogether lost.” “How is that?” For answer, March balanced himself against Con’s shoulder, and lifted up one foot, as if to look at a bruise, and dusted It carefully. A duplicate of the map was clearly tattooed on the sole of his right foot.

The Gray Sentinel saves the lives of Con and March. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Cornish Tin Miners.

The men who work in the Cornish tin mines are a clahs by themselves, and all their differences are adjusted by the stannary courts, as they are called from the Latin word stannum. These curious courts have existed in thfcir present form since the middle of the thirteenth century, and. in a simpler form, much earlier; and the miners claim to be free from all other jurisdiction, “except in matters affecting the land, life or limb.”

A Failure In Life.

A sad story reaches us from Southwest London. It appears that a girl of twenty attempted suicide because she realized she was too old to write either a popular novel or a book of poems.—From Punch, London. T *

Redeemed Early Failure.

Thomas Chambers, the noted ml» slonary and preacher, was the despair of his school teacher. Another famous preacher. Isaac Barrow, was se slow and quarrelsome that be was counted a disgrace te the school.

At the Fashion Show

FASHION shows are abroad in the land and those in the large cities are repeated on the screen everywhere, so that she who runs —to the movies—may read the story of fall styles. By these means we have a chance to compare the efforts of American producers of women’s apparel with early imports and with photographs of French productions that have not actually peached us. If we start out by conceding the French to be masters, we must conclude that Americans are tlfe most apt and progressive of pupils. The admirable features in French gowns are present and quite as admirably managed in those of American manufacture and an independence of ideas has rejected whatever is not suited to us. It is the part of wisdom to borrow that which is beautiful and characteristic in the dress of other nations.

New Silk Gowns, Gay or Sedate

TWO afternoon frocks of widely different styles, but both employing taffeta and lace in combination, present themselves together In 'the picture above and Invite' comparison. One of them, with frivolity aforethought, is a fussy little affair of silk and cream-colored lace that has appropriated apron drapery at the front and pannier effect at the sides, elaborating both these simple , and quaint ideas, until they are hardly to be recognized. It has a plain straight underskirt which does its useful part as a foundation for eccentric drapery. The bodice is smooth fitting and extended over the waistline where ft is wrinkled in the semblance of a gir<JJe. Elbow sleeves, ending in- frothy puffs of lace and a square neck, also finished Witt a lace puff, are In keeping with the pannier silhouette which gives this gay dress its character. ’ Not a detail of the costume but •what plays Ita part to sustain the the frock. ” Such a costume rarin re-enforce the personality of lighthearted youth and make the graveat young persons look gay. Thors are

The frock shown at the left of the two pictured here have come to us by way of France but it started in Russia. An underskirt of black satin, with large overlapping rings embroidered around it> is glimpsed below an overskirt of blue serge joined to a blouse. Both the left side and reveal the satin from shoulder to hem with smaller embroidered rings as a decoration. Tassels fall along each side of the opening and there is a long narrow sash of the serge. Long waistlines and full skirts are predicted for fall and these are set forth very attractively in the dress at the right. In this frock a semi-fitted bodice is joined to a long tunic and opens over a vest of net and lace. A bordec of satin at the bottom of the tiinicns cut in points. There Is a collar of brocaded satin and cuffs of it finish the sleeves.

many colors In which this frock can be successfully developed, bfti, in any case, it is intended for a youthful wearer. * The other dress of black taffeta and black lace has a long tunic of lace banded with taffeta that hangs full and straight over the underskirt. It has a Quaker bodice with wide silk fichu and a girdle of taffeta tied In a bow at' the back. The sleeves are hardly elbow length. Perhaps ' the wearer Is one of those fortunate young women who. possess pretty elbows. This flrock Is one of the new-models for fall, youthful and demure looking, and it would be Just as alluring made in a color with lace dyed to match the silk. , f

Color for Fall Velling

Brilliant colors are struggling to oh tain a foothold la fall veiling. ■ .