15he
ragged Edge
by
Harold MacGrath
There was no way over thia
puzle, nor under it, nor around
It t that men should drink, know
ing the inevitable payment. Thia
young man did not drink be
cause he sought the false happi
ness that lured men to th§ bottle.
o?o her mind, recalling the pic
l:re of blra i^e night before,
liqre had been something tragic
» the grim silent manner of his
ippling. Peg after peg had
/one down his blistered throat*
but never had a smile touched
bis lips, never had his gaze roved
inquisitively- Apparently he had
Projected beyond his table some
hypnotic thought, for it had
held him all through the dining
hour.
Evidently he wag gazing at
the dull red roofs of the city:
but was he registering what he
haw! Never glance sideways at
man, the old Kanaka woman had
roan, the old Kanaka woman had
•aid. Yes, yes j that was all very
well in ordinary cases; but yon
der was a soul in travail, if ever
•he had seen one. Here was not
■the individual against whom she
had been warned. He had not
addressed to her even the most
•ordinary courtesy of fellow
travellers; she doubted that ho
was even aware of her existence.
Bhe went further: she doubted
that he was fully conscious of
where he was.
Suddenly she became aware
of the fact that he had brought
too lunch. A little kindness
would not bring the world tumb
ling about her ears. So she ap
pipached him with sandwiches.
“You forgot your lunch,” she
■aid. “Won’t you take these!’’
For a space ho merely stared
•t her, perhaps wondering if Bhe
were real. Then a bit of colour
flowed into his sunken white
cheeks.
“Thank you; but I’ve a pocket
full of water-chestnuts. I’m not
hungry.”
“Better eat these, even if you
don’t want them,” she urged.
41 My name is Ruth Enschede.”
“Mine is Howard Spurlock.”
Immediately he stepped back.
Instinctively ghe imitated this
ttetion, chilled and a little fright
ened at the expression of terror
that confronted her. Why should
he stare at her in this fashion!—
for all the world as if she had
pointed a pistol at his head!
CHAPTER III
He had said it, spoken it like
that . . . his own name! After
•11 these weeks of trying to ob
literate even the memory of it!
. . . to have given it to this
girl without her asking!
The thought of peril cleared
• space in the alcoholic fog. He
•aw the expression on the girl’s
face and understood what it sig
nified, that it was the reflected
pattern of his owu. He shut his
•yes and groped for the wall to
•teady himself, wondering if this
bit of mummery would get over.
“1 beg your pardon! . . .
A bit rocky this morning . . .
That window there .... I
Cloud back of your hatl” He
opened his eyes again.
* “I understand,” she said. The
poor boy, imagining things!
That’s want of substantial
food. Better take these sand
wiches.”
^ i All right; and thank you.
Ill eat them when we start. Just
noVtne water-chestnuts . . ."
She smiled, and returned to
the spinstera.
Spurlock began to munch his
water-chestnuts. What he need
ed was not a food but a flavour;
and tho cocoanut taste of tho
chestnuts sppthed his burning
tongue and throat. He had let
«n»ia name so easily as that}
hat was the name she had
given t Ruth something; he could
not remember. What a frighten
ed fool he wasl If he could not
remember her name, it was
equally possible that already she
had forgotten his. Conscience
was always digging sudden pits
for his feet and common sense
ridiculing his fears. Mirages,
over which he was constantly
throwing bridges which were
wasted efforts, since invariably
they spanned solid ground. _
But he would make it a point
not to speak again to the girl. If
he adhered to this policy—to
keep away from her inconspicu
ously—she would forget the
name by night, and to-morrow
even thg bearer of it would sink
below the level of recollection.
That was life. They were only
passers-by.
Drink for him had a queer
phase. It did not cheer or fortify
him with false courage and reck
lessness ; it simply enveloped him
in a mist of unreality. A shud
der rippled across his shoulders.
He hated the taste of it. The
first peg was torture. But for
all that, It offered relief 5 his
brain, stupefied by the fumes,
grew dull, and conscience lost
its edtre to bite.
He wiped the sweat from his
chin and forehead. His hand
shook so violently that he drop
ped the handkerchief; and he
let it lie on the floor because he
dared not stoop.
Ah Cum, sensing the difficul
ty, approached, recovered the
damp handkerchief and returned
it.
“Thanks.”
“Very interesting,” said the
Chinaman, with a wave of his
tapering hand toward the roofs.
“It reminds you of a red sea
suddenly petrified.”
“Or the flat stones in the
meadows, teeming with life
underneath. Ants.”
“You are from Americat”
“Yes.” But Spurlock put up
his guard.
“I am a Yalo man,” said Ah
Cum.
“YaloT Why, so am I.” There
was no danger in admitting this
fact. Spurlock offered his hand,
which Ah Cum accepted gravely.
A broken laugh followed the ac
tion. “Yale!” Spurlock’s gaze
shifted to the dead hills beyond
the window; when it returned to
the Chinaman there was aston
ishment instead of interest: as if
Ah Cum had been a phantom a
moment since and was now
actually a human being. 1‘Yalef”
A Chinaman who had gone to
Yale!
“Yes. Civil engineering. Men
tally but not physically compe
tent. Had to give up the work
and take to this. I’m not noble;
so my honourable ancestors will
not turn over in their graves.”
“Graves.” Spurlock pointed
in the sloping fields outside the
walls. “I’ve counted ten coffins
so far.”
“Ah, yes. The land about
these walls is a common grave
yard. Every day in the year
you will witness Bueh scenes.
There are no funerals among the
poor, only burials. And many of
these deaths could be avoided
if it were not for superstition.
Superstition is the Chinese Reap
er. Rituals instead of medicines.
Sometimes I try to talk. I might
as well try to build a ladder to
heaven. We must take the chil
dren—of any race—if we would
teach knowledge. Ago is set, im
pervious to innovations.”
The Chinaman paused. He
saw that his words were falling
upon dull ears. He turned to
observe what this object was
that had so unexpectedly divert
ed the young man's attention. It
was the girl. She was standing
before a window, against the
background of the rain-burdened
April sky. There was enough
contra-light to render her ethe
real.
Spurlock was basically a poet,
, quick to recognize beauty, ani
mate or inanimate, and to trans
cribe it in unuttered words. He
was always word-building, a
metaphorist, lavish with singing
adjectives; but often he built in
confusion because it was diffi
cult to describe something beau
tiful in a new yet simple way.
He had. not noticed the girl
particularly when sho offered
the sandwiches; but in this
moment he found her beautiful.
Her face reminded him of a deli
cate unglazed porcelain cup,
filled with blond wine. But
there was something else; and in
his befogged mental state the
comparison eluded him.
Ruth broke (he exquisite pose
by summoning Ah Cum, who was
lured into a lecture upon the
water-oiock. This left Spurlock
alone.
lie began munching his water
chestnuts—a small brown radish
shaped vegetable, with the fla
vour of cocoanut—that grow
along the river brims. Below
the window saw two coolies
carrying a coffin, which present
ly they callously dumped into a
yawning pit. This made the
eleventh. There were no mourn
ers. But what did the occupant
of the box caret The laugh was
always with the dead: they were
out of the muddle.
rrom tne unlovely hillside his
glance strayed to the several
five-story towers of the pawn
shops. Celestial Uncles! Spur
lock chuckled, and a bit of chest
nut, going down the wrong way,
set him to coughing violently.
When the paroxysm passed, he
was forced to lean against the
window-jamb for support.
“That young man had better
watch his cough,” said Spinster
Prudence. “He acts queerly,
too.”
“They always act like that
after drink,’’ said Ruth, casually.
She intercepted the glance the
spinsters exchanged, and im
mediately sensed that she had
said too much. There was no
way of recalling the words; so
she waited.
“Miss Enschede—such an odd
name!—are you French!”
“Oh, no. Pennsylvania Dutch.
But I have never seen America.
I was born on an island in the
South Seas. I am on my way
to an aunt who lives in Hartford,
Connecticut.”
The spinsters nodded approv
ingly. Hartford had a very re
spectable sound.
Ruth did not consider it neces
sary, however, to add that she
had not notified this aunt of her
coming, that she did not know
whether the aunt still resided in
Hartford or was underground.
These two elderly ladies would
call her stark mad. Perhaps she
was.
“And you have seen . . .
drunken men!” Prudence’s
tones were full of suppressed
horror.
“Often. A very small settle
ment, mostly natives. There was
a trader—a man who bought
copra and pearls. Not a bad man
as men go, but he would sell
whisky and gin. Over here men
drink because they are lonely;
and when they drink too hard
and too long, they wind up oh
the beach.”
The spinsters stared at her
blankly.
Ruth went on to explain.
“When a man reaches the lowest
scale through drink, we call him
a beach-comber. I suppose the
phrase—the {word—originally
meant a man who searched for
food on the beach. The poor
things! Oh, it was quite dread
ful. It is queer, but men of edu
cation and good birth fall swift
est and lowest.”
She sent a covert glance
toward the young man. She
alone of them all knew that he
was on the first leg of the terri
ble journey to the beach. Some
body ought to talk to him, warn
him. He was all alone, like her
self.
‘Wliat are those odd-looking
things on the roofs 1” she asked
of Ah Cum.
“Pig and fish, to fend off the
visitations of the devil.” Ah
Cum smiled. “After all, I be
lieve we Chinese have the right
idea. The devil is on top, not
below. We aren’t between him
and heaven; he is between us
and heaven.”
The spinsters had no counter
philosophy to offer; so they
turned to Ruth, who had singu
larly and unconsciously invested
herself with glamour, the glam
our of adventure, which the old
maids did not recognize as such
because they were only tourists.
This child at once alarmed and
thrilled them. She had come
across the wicked South Seas
which were still infested with
cannibals; she had seen drunk
enness and called men beach
combers; who was this moment
as innocent as a babe, and in
the next uttered some bitter wis
dom it had taken a thousand
years of philosophy to evolve.
And there was that dress of hers!
She must be warned that she
had been imposed upon.
“You’ll pardon an old woman,
Miss Enschede,” said Sister Pru
dence; “but where in this world
did you get that dress T”
Ruth picked up both sides of
the skirt and spread it, looking
down “ Is there anything wrong
with it!”
“Wrong! Why, you have been
imposed upon somewhere. That
dress is thirty years old, if a
day.”
“Oh!” Ruth laughed softly.
“That Is easily explained. I
haven’t much money; I don’t
know how much it is going to
cost me to reach Hartford; so 1
fixed over a couple of my
mother ’s dresses. It doesn’t look
bad, does itf”
“Mercy, nol That wasn’t the
thought. It was that somebody
had cheated you.”
The spinster did not ask if the
mother lived; the question was
inconsequent. No mother would
have sent her daughter into the
world with such a wardrobe.
Straitened circumstances would
not have mattered; a mother
would have managed somehow.
In the ’80s such a dress would
have indicated considerable fi
nancial means; under the sun
helmet it was an anachronism;
and yet it served only to add a
quainter charm to the girl’s
beauty.
“Do you know what yoi
make me think of?’’
“What?’’
“As if you had stepped out of
some old family album.”
The feminine vanities in Ruth
were quiescent; nothing had
ever occurred in her life to
tingle them into action. She was
dressed as a white woman should
be; and that for the present sat
isfied her instincts. But she
threw a verbal bombshell into
the spinsters’ camp.
“What is a family album?”
“You poor child, do you mean
to tell me you’ve never seen a
family album? Why, it’s a book
filled with the photographs of
your grandmothers and grand
fathers, your aunts and uncles
and cousins, your mother and
father when they were little.’’
Ruth stood with drawn brows;
she was trying to recall. “No;
we never had one; at least, I
never saw it.”
The lack of a family album
for some reason put a little ache
in her heart. Grandmothers and
grandfathers and grandfathers
and uncles and aunts ... to
love and to coddle lonely little
girls.
“You poor child 1” said Pru
dence.
“Then I am old-fashioned. Is
that it? I thought this very
pretty.”
“So it is, child. But one
changes the style of one’s clothes
yearly. Of course, this does not
apply to uninteresting old
maids,” Prudence modified with
a dry little smile.
“But this is good enough to
travel in, isn’t it?”
“To be sure it is. When you
reach San Francisco, you Van
buy something more appropri
ate.” It occurred to the spinster
to ask: ‘ ‘ Have you ever seen a
fashion magazine?”
(TO-BE CONTINUED)
Spring Morning.
But Magio Doesn t Work.
From the Kansas City Star.
Wo always are looking for short
cuts to desirable ends. If a man la
In bad shape physically from over
eating, lack of exercise and failure
to take care of himself, he hates to
he told he must mend his ways and
live a more wholesome life. He
wants to take a pill and be cured.
The quack who advertises that he
has a magic machine for discovering
wha* is the matter with you, ana
anotner magic machine for curing
you, gets plenty of customers.
Bo in the world of industry. We
see people in poverty. Our sym
pathies are aroused. We want to
enact a law that will help them out.
The chances are that about the only
way to help people Is to ses to it
that as children they get a good edu
cation, that they have as good
health as modern sanitation and pre
ventive medicine make possible, and
that the burden of government Is
not distributed in such a way as to
weigh too heavily upon them. But
such a program seems tame and un
attractive. We want to make a
magic to do what we have In mind.
In the natural and Idealistic reac
tion against war we are busy trying
to find a short cut to peace. We
think we ought to be able to pre
vent nations fighting by getting
them into an organization whose
members all agree to be good, and
to punish any nation that dares to
be had. It sounds simple and easy.
But experience ought to make us
reflect that nations have shown no
such capacity to work togsther, no
such desire to abide by agreements
that may run counter to the na
tional Interest, as this plan Implies.
The last war began with the viola
tion of treaties.
This does not mean that a nation
like the United States can have no
J wholesome and restraining influ
ence in the world. If it maintains a
sufficient degree of prepared neus to
defend Itself and make Its views
respected, occasions will arise when
It can be of great service, as it has
been with the Dawes commission.
Such a foreign policy, however,
seems to many persons so humdrum,
so lacking in the spectacular, that it
does not interest them. They want
to make a magic to prevent war.
The great trouble Is that magic
of all sorts has petered out slnoe
the Middle Ages. Magic doesn’t
work. But we love to think It does,
and we can't give it up!
Study Climatology
From the Scientific American
Clark university now offers a course
In home study of "Climatology and
the Climates of the Wgll" as a com
panion to «ihat on 'Thu Passing
Weathtyu"
FAMILY OF EIGHT
WIPED OUT WHEN
HOUSE IS RAZED
Scores Injured By Flying
Debris—Many Buildings
Are Destroyed
Mitchell, S. D., .Tune 15.—(Special)
Ten people are reported killed and
more than a score injured Saturday
in the most severe wind storm that
has struck this section of South
Dakota In a quarter of a century.
Eight persons, all of a family, are
reportey killed near Bijou Hills,
caught in the collapse of their farm
home. Two others are reported kill
ed just outside of White Lake. Scores
were injured by flying debris and
falling glass.
In Mitchell Tom Griffith sustained
a fractured skull and a broken collar
bone when a popcorn wagon blew
over on him. George Rozum was cut
about the face by flying glass. Elvin
Larimer, 10 years old, Letcher, S. It.,
sustained a broken arm and his scalp
was nearly torn from his head when
the barn In which he had taken ref
uge collapsed.
Hundreds of farm buildings
through this section were blown
down. Live stock suffered severely.
Crops were not high enough to bo
damaged much.
In Mitchell hundreds of trees were
uprooted or broken off. More than
a third of the plate glass windows
In the business section were broken.
Parks were practically demolished
and many roofs were blown off.
Shops Destroyed.
At the South Dakota state high
way supply depot here the shops and
two warehouses were partially de
molished. Property loss a't the
depot will total In the neighborhood
of $10,000.
The storm covered all the terri
tory between Wolsey and Alexan
drla and Sale mand Kadoka. West
of the river It was accompanied *y
a torrential downpour, two Inches of
rain falling In 10 minutes In the
territory between Chamberlain and
Murdo.
Telegraphic communication to the
west of Mitchell Is wrecked and
lommunlcatlon Is Impossible.
—-*•—
ONE MAN KILLED
Pierre. S. D., June 15.— (Special)
*-At least one man was killed and
many Injured as the resalt of the
worst wind storm that has ever
| struck this section of the state, Sat
urday evening shortly before 6
okrlock.
Paul Nelson, 24 years old, son of
0. M. Nelson of Pierre, was killed
on the Nelson ranch about 22 miles
north, when a bahn wa^ blown down.
His body was found between the barn
4nd house by neighbors. Death was
otie to the man having been struck
)y flying timbers.
In the city the wind reached a
velocity of 82 miles an hour, accord
ing to the weather bureau, the
strongest gale on record. Property
damage in town and county will
reach hundreds of thousands of dol
lars. In Pierre alone, dozens of
small buildings, barns and small
residence® were wrecked; the roof
of the Lockie hotel was torn off and
at the Indian school, the barn was
blo'wn down and practically every
Irving Fisher’s
Weekly Index
New Haven, Conn., June 15.—Last
week's wholesale prices of 200 rep
resentative commodities averaged
143.4 per cent, of the prewar level,
according to Prof. Irving Fisher's
weekly index number. The purchas
ing price of the dollar is 69.8 pre
war cents, this week’s Index number
shows.
Both the commodity prices and the
purchasing power of the dollar are
relative to the prewar period of
1913. Thus the "low” prices In Jan
uary, 1922, for Instance, exceeded
prewar prices on the average by 38
per cent., that Is the dollar was
worth 72.5 prewar cents.
A summary of conditions follows:
Index Purchasing
Number. Power
1913 (Prewar) .100 109.00
1920 (Peak) .247. 40.5
1922 (Low) .138. 72.5
1923 average .157.7 68.4
March average .148.7 67.2
Last week .143.3 6J.8
First quarter, 1924.... 150.5 68.2
(Mr. Fisher is a noted professor at
Yale university. His weekly index
la appearing exclusively in Sioux
City in The Tribune every Monday.
It Is the only weekly index of gen
eral prices in the world.—(Editor'#
Note.)
building unroofed.
At the Indian school alone, the
damage is estimated at $25,000. The
■torm came from the northwest and
for nearly an hour, the wind blew
from 70 to 82 miles an hour. Large
trees were uprooted and broken and
the entire city has been isolated and
in darkness, the electric plant be
ing shut down entirely and it will be
days before the current will be
turned on again.
All telegraph and telephone wives
went down east of Pierre. The blow
extended as far east as Huron.
Attempts were _ made Saturday
night by press representatives to get
wires working out of Blunt, 30 miles
east, but the damage there was even
greater, for the size of town, than
in Pierre. At this place a grain
elevator was blown down and all
wires were out and many buildings
unroofed.
At this time, it cannot be learned
what the damage was north of here,
the roads being too heavy to reach
these localities. At Canning, several
Injured but no deaths, as far as can
be learned. Ranch and farm houses
and other buildings were blown down
or moved on their foundations
throughout the entire section and
reports from west of the Missouri
are that many ranch buildings were
razed. In the Degray section,
southeast, along the river, the storm
took the nature of a tornado with a
twisting wind that did great damage.
The wind at Pierre was a straight
blow. In Pierre are few buildings
that have not been damaged In
some manner; windows blown in, or
shingles blown off.
Practically every sign board In
town Is down and the debrlis from
these and buildings and felled trees,
made traffic even In the business
section of town, difficult until Sun
day morning,
Travelers on the northwestern from
the east that arrived here late
Sunday morning, report that from
Huron here, the trip was through a
country laid waste with wreckage
strewn aJi along the way.
Blunt is reported badly wrecked
and few buildings are left standing
in Canning.
Here’s “Patches,” Girl Friend of Richard Loeb
J
Please meet "Patches,* otherwise Germaine Kathryn Rein hard,
friend of Richard Loeb, one of the confessed kidnapers and slayers of
little Robert Franks She told police that she did not know bow the
Initials "Q.K.R.” appeared under the typewritten signature of "George
Johnson” on the ransom letter which Jack Franks, Chicago millionaire^
received.
DENY I8HII REPORT
"Toklo, June 14. (A. P.)—It Is of
ficially denied that Viscount Ki
juhiro Ishii has been selected to be
come Japan’s new ambassador at
Washington, though it Is stated au
thoritatively that he is the most
likely candidate for the post.
MAJOR GILBRETH DIES
Mount Claire, N. J., June 14 —
Major Frank Gilbreth, engineer, died
of a heart attack in a booth at the
Lackawanna Railroad station today
while telephoning his wife.
DANCING CHURCH BROKE
New York, June 14.—The dance
services at the church of St. Marks
In the Bouwerle, which caused
Bishop Manning to cut off the church
from Episcopal ministrations, will be
discontinued because of lack of fin
ancial support, it was announced.
* CHICAGO 3HIVERS.
Chicago. June 13.—Cold weather
for the sason caused discomfort In
Chicago Friday night. The temper
ature dropped to 50 degrees. Tem
perature for the last 14 hours was
8 degrees below normal,