The Syracuse and Lake Wawasee Journal, Volume 14, Number 40, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 2 February 1922 — Page 2

THE GIRL, A HORSE AND A DOG By FRANCIS LYNDE -

“IT’S A HOLDUP!" Synopsis. — Under his grandfather's will, Stanford Broughton, society idler, finds his share of the estate, valued at something like lies in a "safe repository"," latitude and longtitpde described, anfl that is all. It may be identified 'by the presence nearby of a brcjwn-haired, blue-eyed girl, a piebat* horse, and a dog with a split fao«, half black and half white. Stanaford at first regards the bequest as a joke, but after consideration sets out to find his legacy. O» his way to Denver Stanford host's from a fellow traveler, Charles Bullerton, a mining engineer, a story having to do with a fiupded mine.. He has a "hunch” this mine 'is the “safe repository” at the will. Bullerton refuses him information. On the station platform at Atropia, just as the train pulls out, Stanford sees what appear to be the Identical horse and dug described in his grandfather's w«ll. Impressed, he leaves the train at the npxt stop, Angels. Unable to secure a conveyance, Broughton seizes a track-inspection car and -escapes, leaving the impression on the town marshal, Beasley, that he is demented. Pursued, he abanthe'- car, which is wrecked, and I escapes on foot. In the darkness he is overtaken by the girl, the jhorse and the dog. After he explains his presence, she invites him.to her home, at the Old Cinnabar mine. Broughton’s hosts are lliraim Twombly, caretaker of the mine, and his daughter Jeanie. Stanford does not reveal his identity. Ilirajm and Stanford go puttering about the mine. .Stanford gets I interested in the work and falls in love with Jeanie, who saves his life. Bullerton shows up at the mine.

CHAPTER Vlll.—Continued. “You’re not the only/ pebble on the beach, Builerton," I said, looking him squarely in the eye. “What you can do with this mine, another mining engineer can do quite as well; and the other man will probably be willing to do It without asking the fenced-in earth for his reward.” “Humph I” he grunted; “so that’s your play. Is It?” Then, after a scowd!ng pause: “You’re licked before you begin. You’re fighting without ammuWMMI 'll Ji w “If You Want to Go to Law—Sail In.” nition, Broughton. You haven’t any mfiney/and you’ll look a long time before you’ll find an engineer able to finance his own experiment on your frowned proposition.” “That may be,” I retorted. “But if |-ou told me the story straight that fight in the Pullman, you can't turn a- wheel until I tell you to go ahead. So your contract, if you’ve got one, doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” “That point may make a nice little question for the courts to decide,” he snapped. “But I don’t want to go to law about this thing, and neither do you. As a matter of fact, you haven’t any money to throw away in a legal scrap. You make me a deed to fiftyone per cent of the Cinnabar property, just as it stands, and then you may go back East and enjoy yourself playing marbles, or pitch and toss, or red dog •—whatever your pet diversion may happen to be. Fifty-one per cent and you give hie a clear field —not stick around, I ineanl That £oes as it lies.” “Huh!” I scoffed. “A while back you were talking about pulling the law on me. You can’t make anything like that stand in thft courus and you know it mighty well.”\. j “Maybe not; buCS-enn make it stand with you—which is much more to the purpose. You said a minute ago-that I couldn’t turn a wheel without your consent. You can’t turn a wheel at nil —without money.” His rubbing the poverty gibe into ipe made me madder than ever and I thought it was about time to tell him where he got off. “Then, by Jove, the wheels needn’t turn!” I countered. “And that lets you out. If you want to go to law about that contract —sail in. That’s all I’ve got to say.” “Oh, hold on!” he protested, with mock concern. Then he showed me plainly what ’he’d been doing in the Interval between his first and this second appearance in the Bed Desert region. “I’ve had time to look you up, you know. You’re engaged to a girl back East and you can’t marry her because you haven’t money enough. Half a loaf is better than no bread; and I’m offering you very nearly the half loaf. Take a day or so to think it over. I’m in no hurry.” And with

that he went back to the cabin across the dump and left me warming the anvM. I guess it will say itself that the next few days stacked up about as wretched an interval as I had ever been called upon to put over. Bullerton had a masterful sort of grip that seemed to give him a stran-gle-hold upon everything he tackled. At table and in the evenings before the fire he monopolized the talk and of. us sat around like stough-ton-bottles and let him do it. It didn’t help matters out much when Daddy Hiram, chasing me up on one of the days when I was dodging Bullerton, gave me the sealed envelope which my grandfather had left with him. As will be remembered, It was on the night of Bullerton’s arrival at the Cinnabar that I had told Daddy and his daughter who I was, and the subject hadn’t been again referred to by any of us. But now Daddy, having overtaken me on one of the trails above the mine, sat beside me on a flat rock and we had it out together. “You knew who I was from the first, Daddy?” I asked. “Not right plumb at first, no,” he qualified. “You see, I didn’t know who I was looking for. Always reckoned somebody’d be along, ’f course, but I hadn’t had any idea who ’r when.” “I’m afraid I’ve been a pretty sorry disappointment to you,” I muttered. “I have no money and I don’t know enough to be any good at the mining game. And that reminds me: my grandfather paid you a regular salary for the caretaking, didn’t he?” “Uh-huh.” “That has been discontinued since his death?” “I reckon so.” “I have a little Income of my own; not much, but enough for the way we're Living here. It must be understood that I share it with you and Jeanie, so long as I stay with you.” “Ain’t no need o’ your doin’ that, Stannle. I got a little stake hid out for a pinch.” In all this, you will notice, there was no word said about Bullerton. We sat in silence for a while, Daddy chewing a spear of grass. After a tirpe he called attention to the envelope which I still held unopened in my hands. “Don’t ’ye want to know what your gran’paw says?” he asked mildly. At this I slit the end of the envelope. Its contents were a deed in fee simple to the' Cinnabar and a note to me, written in Grandfather Jasper’s cramped, old-fashioned handwriting. In the note he merely said that he was leaving me a property which had cost him pretty well up to half a million and that he hoped I’d brace up and go to work and make something out of it, adding that if I hadn’t been such a hopeless idler all my life he might have considered the propriety of adding an experimental fund to tlfte gift. As it was, I must work out my own salvation—-if I were anxious to possess any of that commodity. I think it was on the fourth day after his arrival that Bullerton cornered me again and again It was in the deserted blacksmith shop. “Well. Broughton.” he began abruptly, seating himself once more upon the empty dynamite box, “I’ve "given you plenty of time to think it over. Where do you stand now?” “Right exactly where I did In the beginning,” I snapped. “I don’t want any forty-nine-fifty-one per cent partnership with you; neither that nor any other kind.” “All right,” he rejoined, brusquely; “we’ll call that phase of it a back number and go on to something else. I’ll buy your mine, just as it stands, water and all —and that’s what nobody else would do, .you’d better believe.” “For how much ?” “For fifty thousand dollars—cash.” “No,” I grated. “I don’t need a little money that badly.” “Fifty thousand isn’t a little; at a good, safe, investment Interest it will give you an Income of three thousand a year. And that’s more than you’re getting now out of what your father left you.” “You seem to know a good bit about my private affairs,” I growled. “You said a mouthful, then. I’ve made it my business to find out about them. There’s nothing much to you, Broughton, when you come right down to brass tacks. Y’ou had a good education, but you haven’t had get-up-and-get enough in you to make any use of it.” “The less you dig in my private garden patch, the better we shall get along,” I told him. He was silent for a moment. He had picked up a bit of iron rod and was tracing hieroglyphic figures with it in the dust of the shop floor. Presently he looked up with a sort of mocking leer. “Been trying to carry sentimental water on both shoulders, haven’t you? I’m telling you right now, Broughton, it's no use. I filed on the little Blueeyes claim over yonder in Twombly's cabin a long, long time before you ever saw or heard of it.” That remark of his carried things over the edge for me. “See here, Bullerton,” I said, and I suppose I stuck out my jaw at him as people say I do when I’m beginning to feel ugly, “there are limits, and I’ll pay you the compliment of assuming that you are not quite a born fool. We are going to leave Miss Twombly out of it; completely and absolutely out of it.” “You may; but I shan’t,” he grinned back at me. “In point of fact, my dear fellow, now that I come to think of it, you’ll have to leave her out.” “Not for anything you may say or do, or leave unsaid or undone.” “Yes, you will; and for something that I may say. And I guess this is as good a time as any to mention it,

Have you forgotten that you have advertised yourself in this out-of-the-way corner of the world rather successfully as one of two things: a pretty dangerous sort of lunatic, or—a criminal ? As a matter of fact, the railroad detectives have been looking high, low and level for you ever since you stole that inspection motor at the Angels platform end got it smashed.” “Twombly knows about that; and so does Miss Twombly,” I cut in. “They wouldn’t give you away, of course; In a certain sense you are Twombly’s guest, and in another you’re his employer. But you’ll notice that neither of these restrictions apply to me. Now, perhaps, you can understand just why you are obliged, in ordinary prudence, to leave the girl out of it — and why I am not so obliged.” “Miss Twombly, herself, has the casting vote on that,” is what I flung at him. “She has already voted,’ he said > coolly.- Then: “You’re not in the game, Broughton; you don’t hold anything higher than a seven-spot, and you are bucking a straight flush. Do you take fifty thousand and vanish? That is the one live question of the moment.” “No.” “Very well; I’ll give you another day to think it over; but I’m warning you here and now that the price will shrink. It is fifty thousand today, say up to sunset: tomorrow it jwill be forty* thousand.” I slid from the anvil and half unconsciously picked up blacksmith’s hand-hammer. “Y’ou go straight to h—l,” I said; and at that he left me. I sat down to try once more to think things out to some sort of an action focus. Should I take Bullerton’s fifty thousand and quit? Common sense said Yes, spelling it with a capital and underscoring pit for emphasis. AVhat was the use in hanging on ? Hadn’t we proved that the mine was undf?ainable, save, perhaps, at the enormous cost of driving an underrunning tunniel from a lower slope of the mountaim? Then there was Jeanie. Then, again, there was Lisette. Fifty thousand dollars at six. per cent would buy sAer hats —but it wouldn’t buy much dfelse. I could picture the calm and cdrfected way in which she would “Yes, Stannle; you’ve succeeded freely in financing the hats. But yam know as well as I do that we covffim’t buy hats and keep a car on tIJHe thousand a year.” I had just to this bottom round of the of dejection when I heard a bit and looked up to see a small, tri™ figure darkening the engine-rooin tßoor. Then a voice that I would have necognized in a thousand voices all speakfing at once, said: N “Mr. Broughton—Stannle, aVe you here?” *, CHAPTER IX. ) To Fish or Cut Bait. / It is nothing short of wonderful Wow the sourest grouch can sometimejf be banished by a single word. That /word “Stannie,” you know; she had Jnever called me that before; though her father had been using the familiar handle, western-wise, right along/ almost from the day I landed on the/?innabar reservation. j “Yes,” I said, and jum/ed up and went to her. f a “Did you ever hear of feuch a thing as a bear with a sore' head?” she asked, in the tone of a/ schoolma’am asking the dull boy if hfe’d ever heard of the letter “A.” “Often,” I admitted./ “Well, isn’t that the way you’ve been acting?” “Haven’t I some little cause?” “Maybe, of course, I’m willing to make some allowances. It does seem ■MI lpj “Mr. Broughton—Stannle, Are You Here?” provoking that your grandfather should have left things In such a dreadful muddle.” “How much do you know about the muddle?” I asked. “I know that old Mr. Dudley let, or partly let, a contract for the draining of the mine, to a man who was almost a total stranger to him.” I saw how it was. Bullerton, always readier to talk than a stuck pig Is to bleed, had been giving her his own version of things. But I let that part of it go. “Grandfather Jasper was laboring

SYRACUSE AND LAKE WAWASEE JOURNAL

for the good of my soul. He knew his ‘medium,’ as the artists say. He wanted to make me work— something that nobody else has ever been able to do.” “Don’t you like to work?” “Why-e-e, I guess I’m like other folk in that respect. I don’t mind working if I can pick my job—and my company. I’ve been having a bully good time hammering around tills old bunch of junk with your father. Or I was having one until Satan came also.” “Meaning Mr. Bullerton?’’ “Quite so; meaning Mr. Bullerton, christened ‘Charles.’ ” “Ought I to stay here and listen if you’re going to say things about him?” “Not if you are going to marry him, you shouldn’t.” “Well, why shouldn’t I marry him if I want to? Hasn’t he plenty of money? And haven’t I told you that I’d marry for money?” “Humph!” said 1; •‘•when you talk that way you are saying out loud just what Lisette says to herself —only you don’t mean it and she does. But tell me how did you get permission to come over here and talk with me?” “Whose permission—Daddy’s?” “No; Bullerton’s, of course.” “I don’t have to ask it —yet.” “Not yet, but soon,” I grinned. “All things come to him —or her —who waits. Just the same, you shouldn’t have come. It’s cruelty to animals. After a man has traveled thousands of miles to sit at the feet of the one girl in the universe, only to find himself elbowed by a brown-whiskered jeet—” “Hush!” she chided. “Can't you ever be serious? You are not sitting at anybody’s feet. What are you going to do about the mine?” “Bullerton offered to unwater the Cinnabar if I’d deed him a bit more than a half interest —and possibly he’d still be willing to do that, which would mean that he'd form a stock company and freeze me out completely when he got good and ready.” “And what is the other way?” “He offers to buy the mine outright, just as it stands, for fifty thousand dollars.” “But your grandfather paid nearly half a million for it, didn’t he?” “Even so. But, you see, in the present scrap I'm the under dog. The man |ou are going to marry has none of the nice little scruples in a business transaction —if you’ll permit me to go that far. He even threatens to turn me over to the authorities for stealing that Inspection car and getting it smashed.” , f , “Oh, I don’t believe he’d do that!” she deprecated. “It is perfectly right and proper that you shouldn't think so—in the circumstances. Just the same, you’ll pardon me if I say that I’m swearing continuously and prayerfully at the circumstances.” “You don’t want me tci marry money and have good clothes anid all the other nice things, and travel and see the world, and all that?” “No, by Jove! I want you to marry me.” Her laugh was just a funny little gurgle. • “Bluebeard!” she said, just like that. “And you havenjt even killed Miss Randle yet! Thanh you, ever so much; but I don’t want to be one of several. Besides, you haven’t any money.” Talk of Impasses and impossible situations! What could 4 man say, or hope to say, to such a jprl as that! “Did you come overs here just to torment me?” I rasped. 1 “Woof!” she shivered, “here comes the bear again!” and thep, right smash out of a dear sky: “Kiss me—just once, Stannie-bear,” > Did I ? She was gasping a bit when she got up rather unsteadily to go back to the cabin across the dump head and wouldn't stay another minute, though I begged and pleaded with her. “No, Indeed, Bluebeard man,” she said with that queer little gurgle of a laugh. “I—l think I have found out what I wanted to. Goodby.” And then, after I thought site was clean gone, she turned back to say, airily : “Oh, yes; I had almost forgotten what I came over here to tell you. You mustn’t sell the Cinnabar. Stannie; not for any price that anybody might offer you. Goodby, again.” Can you beat it? When the good Lord made women He doubtless had many patterns; but I do believe the mold was broken and thrown away after this Jeanie girl had been fashioned. For a solid hour or more I sat on that slab bench at the shafthouse door in a sort of bewildered daze, wondering if I had been asleep and dreaming, or if the bedazzling thing had really happened. At breakfast the next morning everything passed off as usual and *or anything that Jeanie said or looked there needn’t have been any bench beside the shafthouse door and the dream theory I had been playing with might have been the sober fact An hour later, after I had gone across to the mine, Bullerton came over to dig me out, as before. “Forty thousand this morning,” he announced as chipper as an English sparrow over an unexpected heap of street sweepings. “Say, Broughton, can you afford to let your capital shrink at the rate of ten thousand dollars a day? If you should ask me, I should say not.” “You never miss what you haven’t had,” I shot back. “There are no takers on the floor this morning.” “Rlght-o; It’ll be thirty thousand tomorrow, you must remember. At that rate you’ll be owing ipe quite a chunk of money by this ylme next week. That’s about all I have to say—excepting one more little thing: No more chinny little tete-a-tetes in the star-

light, old man, or I shall be obliged to put the gad to you; the railroad gad, you know.” It made me so boiling hot to have him admit, thus baldly, that he had been spying upon Jeanie and me the previous evening that I could scarcely see straight. “That will be about enough!” I barked. “I told you the other day that there were limits, and you’ve walked up and looked over the edge two or three times. You may think you have as many lives as a cat, but I doubt it !” He laughed and threw back the lapel of his coat to show me a regulation six-gun slung by a shoulder strap under his left arm. “You pulled a hammer on me yesterday,” he said, letting the laugh lapse into a grin that showed his fine mouthful of teeth, “and you probably didn’t know that you would have been a dead man before you could swing it. Oh, yes; I could do it, and any coroner’s jury in the Red desert would acquit me; dangerous lunatic—self-defense, you know. That's a word to the wise, and it ought to be sufficient. But I have a better life-insurance policy than any that the six-gun could write me: you’re in love with Jeanie Twombly—in spite of that girl back East; and because you are, you are not going to make her a widow before the fact. You’re not selling your mine for forty thousand —cold cash —this morning?” “Not ‘ this morning or any other morning.” “Good. I can afford to stick around here a few days longer, I guess—at the rate of ten thousand dollars a day. So long.” And he picked his way out of the clutter of the shop and went across to the cabin—and Jeanie. Later, along in this same day, while I was standing at the shaft mouth and staring down at the water that was keeping me out of my heritage. Daddy Hiram came up. “Still a-puzzlin’ over it, Stannle?” he asked, in the sympathetic tone that he always used when he spoke of the Great Disappointment “There’s nothing to it, Daddy,” I gloomed. “Bullerton has me by the neck, and he knows it.” He tiptoed to the door and peeped out. “You’ve heard ’em say ’at curiosity killed a cat,” he said, out of the corner of his mouth; “well, the cat’s acomin’. Skip out o’ that other door, Stannie, and hit for the timber. I’ll ketch up with you in a little spell.” I didn’t know exactly what he was driving at until after I got clear of the mine buildings and was climbing the slope of the mountain above. Then I looked back and saw Bullerton sauntering across the dump head. He was evidently bent on another little job of spying; either that, or else he didn’t want Daddy and me to get together by ourselves. Under .cover of the forest I sat down and waited; and in a short time Daddy joined me, making an excuse for the dodge-away that didn’t mean anything at all. “I got a claim over yonder in the right-hand gulch—the one ’at I was workin’ when your gran’paw came, along,” he said. “Thought maybe you'd like to mog over with me and take a look at her.” Os course, I said I’d be delighted; so we made a detour around the Cinnabar, keeping out of sight from the cabin and shaft-house, and pushing on around the western slope for maybe half a mile until we came to the gulch in which the abandoned claim lay. Working entirely alone, Daddy had driven a tunnel possibly a hundred feet deep straight into the solid rock of the mountain side, following the thin vein and hoping that it would widen into a “pay-streak.” After he had led me a few yards into the tunnel, he waved me to a seat on a pile of broken rock, and took one himself with his back against the opposite wall. “I’m gettin’ just naturally so I Rate a gosh-dummed crowd,” he remarked, switching suddenly from his talk o* the abandoned claim. “Feel sometimes as

-i- g B @3: 1 ; CHARACTER IS NOT EASILY READ

Ideas to the Contrary, Long weld. Have Been Disapproved by Painstaking Studies. Even one of the most plausible statements, namely, that a high forehead is a sign of intelligence, has been definit'y v-.sapproved by the painstaking studies of Karl Pearson. He demonstrated experimentally that the color of the hair, or its straightness or curliness, shows one’s intelligence better than does a high forehead, although these are not offered either as good indices. In other words, there has been found no definite relationship between any single peculiarity of the shape of the head and any trait of character, Henry Foster Adams writes in Scribner’s. t , . , For many years an Italian criminologist, Lombroso, made a study of criminal structural peculiarities and their relationship to crime. He found wellmarked tendencies for criminals to possess certain stigmata or signs, but unfortunately the signs of the criminal w«re found to be widely prevalent among those whose names had never been upon police blotters. It was his pet scheme to have all individuals who were marked by a peculiar sign watched by his detectives, thus preventing crime Instead of merely punishing it after it had been committed. It was entirely impracticable, for the characteristic sign of a murderer was found in altogether too many tenderhearted individuals to make the scheme at all feasible, _

if I’d like to swap skins with a condummed gopher, and duck plumb into a hole.” “Well," said I, grinning at him. “you’ve ducked, for once in away, and so have I. What about it?” “Charley Bullerton,” he spat out, without further preface. “That slicktongued word artist sure does get onto my nerves. What-all's he tryin’ to do to you, anyway, Stannie?” I didn't see any reason why he shouldn’t know, so I told him all of it, from start to finish, offers, bullyings, and threats, but, of. course, nothing about the Jeanie factor. “Great Moses!” he ejaculated, at the end of the sorry tale. “Why,| gosh-to-Methusaleh!—it’s a hold-up! Do you reckon he kin unwater the Cinnabar?" “Surest thing in the woHd. S« blk fin I- JO" M vW/ / 1 I'M Klin He Waved Me to a Seat, on a Pile of Broken Rock. could you or I, if we had the money to drive a long drainage tunnel from the lower slope.” The old man smoked along in thoughtful silence for a few minutes. Then he said: “’Bout that there tunnel job; somethin’i like two hundred thousand, we fiugerd that’d cost, with no bad luck, didn’t we, Stannie?” “That was the figure.” “And, 1 -first off, Charley Bullerton was willin’ to give you fifty thousand for your rights—though now you say he’s shaved it down to forty. That’d mean an investment of at least twe hundred and fifty thousand; all a-goin' out and nothin’ a-comin’ in. Let’s see where that’s fetchin’ us to. I don’t know what your gran’paw paid for the mine, but it was less’n half a million, and I reckon lie paid ever’ dollar it was worth, don’t you?” “Doubtless he did,” I admitted. “So there’s where we land,” he went on speculatively. "Two hundred anc fifty thousand tacked onto half a million gives her a capital of three-quar-ters of a million sunk in her, first and last. Question is: Is she worth it?” I was beginning to get his idea at last. He was wondering if a mint that had once sold at a top-notch, price of half a million could stand the investment of a quarter of a million additional and still hope to be a paying proposition. “You mean that Bullerton is figuring upon spending a quarter of a million more on it?” I queried. “Nope; I reckon I can’t. There's tot nigger in the woodpile, soffiewheres, Stannie, as sure ’s you’re born.”

“Bullerton has stolen my deed to the Cinnabar!” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

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