The Wapanucka Press (Wapanucka, Okla.), Vol. 21, No. 3, Ed. 1 Friday, July 8, 1921 Page: 3 of 8
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WAPANUCKA PRESS
The Wreckers
By FRANCIS LYNDE
Copyright by Chtrlei Scribner't Son*
"YOU'D BETTER NOTIFY THE UNOERTAKERS."
Synopsis.—Graham Norcross, railroad manager, and his secretary, Jimmy
Dodds, are marooned at Sand Creek siding with a young lady, Bheila Macrae
and her small coUBin, Malsle Ann. Unseen, they witness a peculiar train hold-
up, in which a special car Is carried oft. Norcross recognizes the car as that
of John Chadwlck, financial magnate, whom he was to meet at Portal City.
He and Dedds rescue Chadwlck. The latter offers Norcross the management
of the Pioneer Short I-Inq, which Is In the hands of eastern speculators, headed
by Breckenrldge Dunton, president of the line. Norcross, learning that Sheila
Macrae Is stopping at Portal City, accepts. Dodds overhears conversation be-
tween Kufus Hatch and Gustave Henckel, Portal City financiers, In which
they admit complicity In Chadw^ck's kidnaping, their object being to keep
Chadwlck from attending a meeting of directors to reorganize the Pioneer
Short Dine, which would Jeopardize their Interests. To curb the monopoly con-
trolled by Hatch and Henckel, the Red Tower corporation, Norcross forms the
Citizens' Storage and Warehouse company. He begins to manifest a deep
Interest In Sheila Macrae. Dodds learns that Sheila is married, but living
apart from her husband. Norcross does not know this. The Boss disappears;
report has It that he has resigned and gone east. Jimmy turns sleuth, suspects
he has been kidnaped and effects his rescue. Norcross resumes control of the
Pioneer Short IJne, refusing to give place to Dismuke, whom Dunton has sent
to take charge as general manager. Jlmmle follows an emissary of the Red
Tower people, spying on Norcross, to a coal yard, where he overhears a plot
to arrest the Boss on a murder charge. He frustrates It and thereby drives
his enemies to more desperate measures. At the home of Sheila Macrae Dodds
Is witness of strange actions of a man whom he later recognizes as Howard
Collingwood, nephew of President Dunton. A series of wrecks, Impossible to
explain, cause alarm to the Boss.
CHAPTER XI—Continued.
—9—
"Good Lord!" exclaimed the little
millionaire; "you don't liave to tell
tne that! If we can't stop 'em. Uncle
Dunton will have plenty of good rea-
sons for cleaning us all out, lock,
stock, and barrel'. I was talking with
Certer, In the claim office, this morn-
ing. Our loss and damage account
for the past month la something
frightful!"
"It Is," said the boss gravely. And
then: "Upton, we're not altogether as
bright as we might be. Has It never
occurred tc you that we are having
too much bad luck to warrant us In
charging it all up to the chapter of
accidents?"
Mr. Van Brltt blew his cheeks out
until the stubby, cropped mustache
bristled like porcupine quills.
"So you've been getting your point-
er, too, huve you?" he threw In.
Mr. Norcross didn't answer the ques-
tion directly.
"Put Tarbell on the Job, and if he
needs help, let hliu pick his own men,"
tie directed. "We want to know why
that boulder tumbled down ahead of
Number Seventeen, and I want to see
Tarbell's report on It. Keep at It
night and <lay, Upton. The Infection
is getting iuto the rank and file and
It's spreading like a sickness. If it
becomes psychological, we shall have
all the trouble we need."
"I know," nodded the superinten-
dent. "I went through a siege of that
■clnd on the Great Southwestern, one
winter. . It was horrible. Men w-lio
bud been running trains year in and
year out, and never knowing that they
bad any nerves, went to pieces if
you'd snap your fingers at thein."
"That's it," said the boss. "We
<1on't want to fall into that ditch.
Things are quite bad enough, as they
are."
This ended it for the time. The
Petrolite Canyon wreck was picked
np, the track was cleared, and once
more our trains were moving on time.
But anybody could see that the entire
Short Line had a case of "nerves."
Ktrgan. Kirgan the cold-blooded,
showed It one afternoon when I went
over to his office to return a bunch of
blue-prints sent in for the boss' ap-
proval. The big master-mechanic had
a round-house foreman "on the carpet"
and was harrying him like- the dickens
for letting an engine go out with one
of her truck safety chains banging
loose.
Ever since we had gone together on
the rescue run to Timber Mountain,
Mart and I had been sort of chummy,
and after the foreman had gone away
with his foot in his hand, I joshed
Kirgan a little about the way he had
hammered the round-house man.
"Bad medicine," I told hlin. "It's
worrying the bosses, too. What's do-
ing It, Mart?"
"Maybe you can tell," he growled.
"It's a hoodoo—that's what It Is.
Seven engines In the shops In the last
nine dnys, and three more that haven't
been*flshed out-a the ditch yet. I wish
Mr. Van Brltt'd Are the whole Jumpy
outfit!"
It didn't seem as though firing was
needed so much as n dose of nerve
toHlc of some sort. Tarbell was work-
ing hard on the problem, quietly, and
without making any talk about it, and
Kirgan was giving him all the men he
asked for from the shops; quick-witted
fellows who were up In all the me-
chanical details, and who made bet-
ter spotters than outsiders would be-
cause they knew the rolid and the
ropes. But It was no use. I saw
some of Tarbell's reports, and they
didn't show any crookedness. It
seemed to be Just bad luck—one land-
slide after another of It.
Mennwhlle, New York had waked up
again. President Dunton had been off
the Job somewhere, I guess, but now
lie was hack, and the things hs wired
to the boss were enough to make your
balr stand on end. I looked every day
to sec Mr. Norcross pitch the whole
shooting-match Into the Ore and quit,
enid.
He'd never taken anything like Mr.
Ounton's abu«e from anybody before,
mid he eon'dn't see'n to get hardened
to it. Hi t be ah< loyal to Mr. Cfkad-
wick; "f rourwe. he '-i#w that
)ir, I Mmtou's hoi wire* * # meant
to nag him into resigning. Then there
was Mrs. Sheila. I sort of suspected
she wus holding him up to the rack,
every day and every minute of the
day.
It was one evening after he had
been out to the major's for Just a
little while, and had couie back to the
office, that he sent for Mr. Van Brltt,
who was also working late. There wn
blood on the moon, and I saw It in the
way the boss' Jaw was working.
"Upton," he began, as short as pie-
crust, "have you thought of any way to
break this wreck hoodoo yet?"
Mr. Van Brltt sat down and crossed
his solid little legs.
"If I had, I shouldn't be losing sleep
at the rate of five or six hours a
night," he rasped.
"There's one thing that we haven't
tried," the boss shot back. "We've
been advertising It as bad luck, keep-
ing our own suspicions to ourselves
and letting the men believe what they
pleased. We'll change all that. I
want you to call your trainmen In as
fast as you can get at them. Tell
thein—from me, If you want to—that
there Isn't any had luck about It;
that the enemies of this management
are making an organized raid on the
| property itself for the purpose of put-
ting us out of the fight. Tell them
the whole story, if you want to: how
we're trying our best to make a spoon
out of a spoiled horn, and how there
Is an army of grafters and wreckers
In this state which Is doiQg Its worst
to knock us ont of the box.
"If you give the force something
tnnglble to lay hold of, It will work
the needed miracle. It Is only the
mysterious that terrifies. Railroad em-
ployes, as a whole, are perfectly In-
telligent human beings, open to con-
viction. The management which doesn't
profit by that fnct is lame. If you do
this and appeal to the loyalty of the
men, you will make a private detec-
tive out of every man In the train
service, and every one of them keen
to be the first to catch the wreckers.
You can add a bit of a reward for
that, if you like, and I'll pay It out
of my own bank account."
For a full minute our captive mil-
lionaire didn't say a word. Then he
grinned like s good-natured little
Chinese god.
"Who gnve you this Idea of taking
the pay-roll Into your confidence. Gra-
ham?" he asked softly.
For the first time In all the weeks
and months I'd been knowing blm. the
boss dodged; dodged Just like any of
us might.
"I've been talking to Major Ken-
drick," he said. "He Is n wise old
man, Upton, and he hears a good many
things that don't get printed In the
newspapers."
I could see that this excuse didn't
fool Mr. Van Brltt for a single In-
stant. and there wns a look In his
eye that I couldn't quite understand.
Neither could I make much out of what
he said.
"We'll go Into that a little deeper
some dny, Grnham—after this epilep- j
tic attack l:as been fought off. This j
Idea—which you confess Isn't your
own—Is a pretty shrewd one, and l
shouldn't wonder If It would work,
If we can get It In motion before the
hoodoo breaks us wide open. And, as
you sa.v • accusation Is Justifiable,
even If \ can't prove up against the
Hatch outfit. That turned-over rail In
I'etrollte Canyon, for exnn.ple, might
have been helped along by—"
It was Kelso, Mr. Van Brltt'a aten-
ographer, smashed In with the Inter-
ruption. He was In his shirt-sleeves,
as If he'd Just got up from hla type-
writer, and he rushed In with his
mouth open and his eyes like saucers.
"They—they want you In the dis-
patcher's office!" he panted. Jerking
the words out at Mr. Van Brltt. "Dur-
gin has let Number Five get by for a
head-ender with the 'Flyer,' and he's
gone crazy!"
CHAPTER XII
The Helpless Wlree
When Hobby Kelso ahot his news at
ua we all made a quick break for
tho dispatcher's office, the boss In the
lead. Durgin, the night dispatcher,
had been alone on the train desk, and
the only other operatora ou duty were
the car-record man and the young fel-
low who acted as a relief on the com-
mercial wire. When we got there,
we found that Tarbell hnd happened
to be In the office when Durgin blew
up. He was sitting In at the train
key, trying to get Crow Gttich. the
one intermediate wire station between
the two trains that had failed to get
their "meet" orders, and this was the
first I knew that he really wns the
expert telegraph operator that his
pay-roll description said he was.
Durgin looked like a tortured ghost.
He was a thin, dark man with a sort
of scattering beard and limp black
hair; one of the clearest-headed dis-
patchers in the bunch, and the very
last man, you'd sa.v, to get rattled In
a tangle-up. Yet here he was, hunched
In a chair at the car-record table In
the corner, a staring-eyed, pallid-
faced wreck, with the sweat standing
In big drops on his forehead and his
hands shaking as if he had the palsy.
Morris, the relief man, gave us the
particulars, such as they were, speak-
ing In a hushed voice as if he was
afraid of breaking in on Tarbell's
steady rattling of the key in the Crow
Gulch station call.
"Number Four"—Four was the east-
bound "Flyer"—"Is five hours off her
time," he explained. "As near as I
can get it. Durgin was going to make
her 'meet' with Number Five at the
blind siding at Sand Creek tank. She
ought to have had her orders some-
where west of Bauxite Junction, and
Five ought to have got hers at Banta.
Durgin suys he simply forgot that
the 'Flyer" was running late: that she
was still out and had a 'meet' to make
somewhere with Five."
Brief as Morris' explanation was,
It was clear enough for anybody who
knew the road and the schedules. The
regular meeting-point for the two pas-
senger trains was at a point well east
of Portal City, instead of west, and
so, of course, wonld not concern the
Desert Division crew of either train,
since all crews were changed at Portal
City. From Banta to Bauxite Junc-
tion, some thirty-odd miles, there was
only one telegraph station, namely,
that at the Crow Gulch lumber camp,
seven miles beyond the Timber Moun-
tain "Y" and the gravel pit where the
stolen 1016 had been abandoned.
Unluckily, Crow Gulch was only a
day station, the day wires being han-
dled by a young man who was half
In the pay of the railroad and half
in that of the saw-mill company. This
young man slept at the mill camp,
which was a mile back In the gulch.
There was only one chance In a thou-
sand that he would be down at the
railroad station at ten o'clock at
night, and It was on that thousandth
chance that Tarbell was rattling the
Crow Gulch call. If Five were mak-
ing her card time, she was now about
half-way between Timber Mountain
"Y" and Crow Gulch. And Four, the
"Flyer," had Just left Bauxite—with
no orders whatever. Which meant that
the two trains would come together
somewhere near Sand Creek.
Mr. Van Britt was as good a wire
man as anybody on the line, but It
was the boss who look things In hand.
"There Is a long-distance telephone
to the Crow Gulch saw-mill: have you
tried that?" he barked at Tarbell.
The big young fellow who looked
like a cow-boy—and had really been
I
"I Couldn't Get Rid of the loea That
He Was Listening."
one, they said—glanced npand nodded:
'The call's In," he responded: " 'Cen-
tral* says she can't raise anybody."
For the next three or four minutes
the tension was something fierce. The
boss and Mr. Van Brltt hung over the
train desk, and Tarbell kept up his
Insistent clatter at the key. I had an
eye on Durgin. He waa still hunched
up In the record-man's chair, and to
all appearances had gone stone-blind
crasy. Yet I couldn't get rid of the
Idea that he was listening—listening
as If all of hla sealed-up senses had
turned la to Intsualfy the one of hear-
ing-
Just about the time when the sus-
pense had grown so keen that It
seemed as If it couldn't be borne a
second longer, Morris, who was sit-
ting in at the office phone, called out
sharply: "Long-distance says she has
Crow Gulch lumber camp!"
Mr. Van Britt Jumped to take the
phone, and we got one side of the
talk—our side—in shot-like sentences:
"That you, Bertram? All right; this
Is Van Brltt. at Portal City. Take one
of the mules and ride for your life
down the gulch to the station! Get
that? Stop Number Five and make
her take, siding quick. Report over
your own wire what you do. Hurry!"
By the time Mr. Van Britt got back
to the train desk, the boss had his
pencil out and was figuring on Ber-
tram's time margin. It was now ten-
twelve, and Five's time at Crow Gulch
was ten-elghteen. The Crow Gulch
operator had Just six minutes in which
to get his mule and cover the rough
mile down the gulch.
There was nothing to do but wait,
and the waiting was savage. Tarbell
had a nerve of Iron, but I could see
his hand shake as it lay on the glass-
topped table. The boss was cool
enough outwardly, but I knew that in
his brain there was a heart-breaking
picture of those two fast passenger
trains rushing together in the night
among the hills with no hint of warn-
ing to help them save themselves. Mr.
Van Brltt couldn't keep still. He had
his hands Jammed in the side pockets
of his coat and was pacing back and
forth In the little space between the
train desk and the counter railing.
At the different tables In the rown
the sounders were clicking away as
if nothing were happening or due to
happen, and above the spattering din
and clatter you could hear the escape-
ment of the big standard-time clock
on the wall, hammering out the sec-
onds that might mean life or death
to two or three hundred Innocent peo-
ple.
In horrible suspense the six minutes
pulled themselves out to an eternity
for that little bunch of us In the dis-
patcher's office who could do nothing
but wait. On the stroke of ten-eigh-
teen, the time when Five was due at
Crow Gulch on her schedule, Tarbell
tuned his relay to catch the first faint
tappings from the distant day-station.
Another sounder was silent. There
was hope in the delay, and Morris
voiced it.
"He's there, and he's too busy to
talk to us," he suggested, In a hushed
voice; and Dlsbrow, the car-record
man. added: "That's it; it'd take a
minute or two to get them In on the
siding."
The second minute passed, and then
a third, and yet there was no word
from Bertram. "Call him." snapped
the boss to Tarbell, but before the ex-
cow-boy's hand could reach the key,
the sounder began to rattle out a
string of dots and dashes; ragged
Morse it was. but we cou J all read It
only too plainly.
"Too late—mule threw me and I
had to crawl and drag a game leg—
Five passed full speed at ten-nlne-
teen—I couldn't make It."
I saw the boss' hands shut up as
though the finger nails would cut into
the palms.
"That ends It," he said, with a sort
of swearing groan in his volte; and
then to Tarbell: "You may as well
call Kirgan and tell him to order out
the wrecking train. Then have .Per-
kins make up a relief train while
you're calling the doctors. Van Britt,
you go and notify the hospital over
your o\vn office wire. Have my
private Car put Into the relief, and
see to It that It has all the necessary
supplies. And you'd better notify the
undertakers, too."
Great Joash! but It Mas horrible—
for us to be hushing arouud and inuk-
ing arrangements for the funeral while
the people who were to be gathered
up aud buried were still swinging
along live and well, half of them iu
the crooking* among the Timber Moun-
tain foot-hills aud the other half
somewhere in the desert stretches be-
low Sand Creek!
Tarbell had sent Dlsbrow tu the
phone to call Kirgan, and Mr. Nan
Britt wa< turning auuy to go to his
own otlii e. when the chali iu the cor-
ner by the car-record table fell over
backwards with a crash and Dwgln
came staggering across the room. He
was staring straight ahead of him as
if he had gone blind, and the sweat
was running down his face to lose It-
self In the straggiing beard.
When he spoke his voice deemed
to come from away off somewhere,
and he was still staring at the blank
wall beyond the counter-railing,
"Did I—did I hear somebody say
you're sending for the undertakers?"
he choked, with a dry rattle In his
throat; and then, without waiting for
an answer: "While you're at It, you'd
better get one for ri« . . there's the
money to pay him," and he tossed a
thick roll of bank bills, wrapped around
with a rubber band, over to Tarbell
at the train desk.
Naturally, the little grand-stand play
with the bank roll made a diversion,
and that la why the muffled crash of
a pistol ahot cam* with a startling
ahock to everybody. When ws turned
to look, the mischief was done. Dur-
gin had crumpled down Into a mis-
shapen heap on the floor and the sight
we saw was enough to make your
blood run cold.
You see, he had put the muzzle of
the pistol Into his mouth, and—hut it's
no use: I can't tell about It, and the
very thought of that thing that had
Just a minute before been a man, ly-
ing there on the floor makes me see
black and want to keel over. What
he had said about sending for an extra
undertaker was right as right. With
the top of his head blown off, the
poor devil didn't need anything more
In this world except the burying.
Somebody has said, mighty truth-
fully, that even a d#.ith in the family
doesn't stop the common routine; that
the tilings that have to be done will
go grinding on, Just the same, whether
all of us live, or some of us die. Dls-
brow had Jumped from the telephone
at the crash of Durgin's shot, and for
Just a second or so we all stood around
the dead dispatcher, nobody making a
move.
Then Mr. Norcross came alive with
a Jerk, telling Dlsbrow to get back on
his job of calling out the wreck wagons
and the relief train, and directing
Bobby Kelso to go to another 'phone
and call an undertaker to come and
get Durgin's body. Tarbell turned
back to the train desk to keep things
from getting Into a worse tangle than
they already were In, and to wait for
the dreadful news, and the boss stood
by him.
This second wait promised to be the
worst of all. The collision was due
to happen miles from the nearest wire
station; the news, when we should
get It, would probably be carried back
There Was an Even Thousand Dollars.
to Bauxite Junction by the pusher en-
gine which had gone out to try to
overtake the "Flyer." But even in
that case It might be an agonizing
hour or more before we could hear
anything.
In a little whi!e Dishrow had clicked
in his call to Kirgan, and when the
undertaker's wagon came to gather up
what was left of the dead dispatcher,
the car-record man was hurriedly writ-
ing off his list of doctors, and Mr.
Van Brltt had gone down to super-
intend the making up of the relief
train. True to his theory, which,
among other things, laid down the
brond principle that the public had a
right to be given all the facts in a
railroad disaster. Mr. Norcross was
Just telling me to call up the Moun-
taineer office, when Tarbell. calmly
inking time reports upon the train
sheet, flung down his pen and snatched
at his key to "break" the chattering
sounder.
Mr. Van Brltt had come up-stairs
again, and he and the boss were both
standing over Tarbell when the "G-S"
break cleared the wire. Instantly there
came a quick call. "G-S" "G-S" fol-
lowed by the signature. "B-J" for
Bauxite Junction. Tarbell answered,
anil then we all heard what Bauxite
had to say:
"Pusher overtook Number Four three
miles west of Sand Creek and has
brought her back here. What orders
for her?"
Somebody groaned. "Oh. thank God!"
nnd Mr. Van Brltt dropped into a
chair as if he had been hit by a can-
non hall. Only the boss kept his head,
calling out sharply to Dlsbrow to break
off on the doctors' list and to hurry
and stop Kirgan front getting away
with the wrecking train.
When It was all over, and Tarbell
had been given charge of the dis-
patching while a hurry call was sent
out for the night relief man. Donoliue,
to come down and take the train desk,
there was a little committee meeting
In the general manager's office, with
the boss In the chair, and Mr. Van
Brltt sitting In for the other member.
"Of course, you've drawn your own
conclusions, Upton," the boss began,
when he tud asked me to shut the
door.
"I guess so," was the grave re-
Joinder. "I'm afrn'd It Is only too
plain that Durglr. was hired to de It.
What became of the money?"
"I have It here." said the boss, nnd
he took the blOod-money bank-roll
from his pocket and removed the rub-
ber band. "Count It, Jlmmle," he or-
dered, passing It to me.
I ran through the hunch. It was
In twenties and fifties, and there was
an even thousand dollars.
"That Is the price of a man's life,"
said ifr. Van Brltt, soberly, and then
Mr. Norcrosa said, "Who knows any-
thing about Durgin? Was he a ma
ried man?"
Mr. Van Brltt shook his head.
"He had been married, but he and
his wife didn't live together. He had
no relatives here. I knew him in the
southwest two years ago. He'd had
domestic trouble of some kind, and
didn't mix or mingle much with tha
other men.' But lie was a good dis-
patcher, and two months ago, when
we had an opening here, 1 sent for
him."
"You think there Is no doubt but
that be was bribed to put those trains
toge'ther tonight?"
"None In the least—only I wish wa
had a little better proof of it."
"Where did he live?"
"Ho boarded at Mrs. Chandler's, ont
on Cross street. Morris boards there,
too, I believe."
The boss turned to me.
"Jimmie, go and get Morris."
I carried the call and brought Mor-
ris back with me. He was a cheerful,
red-headed fellow, and everybody liked
him.
"It isn't a 'sweat-hox' session, Mor-
ris," said the boss, quietly, when \*9
came In and the relief operator sat
down, sort of half scared, on the edga
of a chair. "We want to know some-
thing more about Durgin. He rootned
at your place, didn't he?'
Morris admitted it, but sale lie'd
never been very chummy with the dis-
patcher; that Durgin wasn't churn nay
with anybody. Then the boss went
straight to the point, as he u 'tally
did.
"You were present and saw a that
happened in the otlifcr room. Cr yoa
tell us anything about that m>
pointing to the pile of bills < i my
desk.
Billy Morris wriggled hlmse ( into
a little better chair-hold. "I> ithinj
that would be worth telling, if things
hadn't turned out just as they baTe,"
he returned. "But now I guess I know.
I left Mrs. Chandler's this evening
about eleven o'clock to come on duty,
and Durgin was just ahead of me.
Some fellow—a man In a snuff-colored
overcoat and with a soft hat pulled
down so that I couldn't see his face—
stopped Durgin on the sidewalk, and
they talked together.
"I didn't hear what was said, but I saw
the overcoated man pass something to
Durgin and saw Durgin put whatever It
wns Into his pocket. Then the other
man dodged and went away, and did
it so quick that I didn't see which
way he went or what became of him.
Durgin must have run after he left
the corner, for I didn't see anything
more of him until I got to the office."
"He was there when you came in?"
It was Mr. Norcross who wanted to
know.
"Yes. He had his coat off and was
at work on the train sheet I don't
think Durgin left his chair, Or said
anything to anybody until he jumped
up and began to walk the floor, taking
on and saying that he'd put Four and
Five together on the single track."
There was silence for a little time,
and when the boss said, "Do you
think you would recognize the man
in the snuff-colored overcoat, if you
should see him again?"
"Yes, I might; if he had on tha
same coat and hat."
"That will do. then. Keep this thing
to yourself, and if tlie newspaper peo-
ple come after you. send them to Mr.
Van Britt or to me."
After Morris had gone, Mr. Van Britt
shook his head sort of savagely.
"It's h—1, Graham!" he ripped out,
bouncing to his feet and beginning to
tramp up and down the room. "To
think that these devils would take tha
chance of murdering a lot of totally
Innocent people to gain their end I
What are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know yet, Upton; but I
am going to do something. This stata
of affairs can't go on. The simplest
thing is for me to throw up the job
and let the Short Line drop back into
the old rut. I'm not sure that it
wouldn't save a good many lives in
the end if I should do It. And yet it
seems such a cowardly thiug to do—
to resign under fire."
Mr. Van Britt had his hand on tha
door-knob, aud what lie said made
me warm to my tinger-tips.
"We're all standing by you, Gra-
ham; all, you understand—to the last
man and the last ditch. And you'rt
not going to pitch It up; you're go
Ing to stay until you have thrown tha
harpoon Into these high-binders, cleat
up to the hltchings. That's my pro
phecy. The trouble's over for tonight,
and you'd better go up to the hotel
and turn In. There Is another day
coming, or if there isn't. It won't maka
any difference to any of us. Good-
night."
"Mrs. McCrae isn't a widow
all."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Had About Given Up Hope.
A certain Dormont mother had oe.
casion to scold her five-year-old son,
the tad taking the call-down very much
to heart. After the operation waa
completed, son disappeared. His fail-
ure to reappear caused the mother to
worry and she began looking about
to locate the culprit. In the bathroora
she found him. There he was, with
the door closed, talking to himself.
"Johnny," the mother heard him
say, "you are a bad boy. You are a
very, very bad boy. You aie too bad
for this family and ought to be taken
away. You are a disgrace; you are a
son of-a-gun."
That was enough for the mother.
Soon there was a hugging match, and
sonnle was assured that he was noon
of the things he had been calling hlnw
self. Still, It took some time to con-
fines him.—Pittsburgh Dispatch,
- ■
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Grant, W. S. The Wapanucka Press (Wapanucka, Okla.), Vol. 21, No. 3, Ed. 1 Friday, July 8, 1921, newspaper, July 8, 1921; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc136672/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.