T5he mojsr HOUSE
NOVELIZED BY
EDWIN C. HILL
FROM WILLIAM FOX’S GREAT PICTURE ROMANCE
OF THE EAST AND THE WEST
BY CHARLES KENYON AND JOHN RUSSELL
It was a full minute before
Brandon spoke. He stood gazing
off into space, that glow in liis
eye which provoked so many
persons to call him ‘ ‘ Crazy Bran,
don,” “the Crank,” “Dreaming’
Dave.” A smile played over his
face. Marsh stared at him. This
penniless engineer was often too
Bauch for him, like some one from
another world, speaking another
language, net the world Tom
Marsh knew—not his language.
“Tom,” said Brandon, finally,
“you have tried to make me see
yuiir point of view. You have as
good as told me a dozen times
that 1 was headed down a road
which led to the poorhouse or
the asylum. I have tried two
dozen times to make you see my
point of view—that I may go to
the poorhouse (it won’t be the
#the, Tom), but before I go you
ind others will admit that I was
right. Why in God’s name men
like you, well-read, educated,
Ban’t see that this Pacific Rail
road is sure as death and taxes,
imazes me. • It makes me kind of
jesperate, Tom. Here s destiny
trying to shake hands with you,
just pleading to make you rich,
the thing which will make the
old United States a real nation,
Tom, and jot one of you can
gee it! Are you blind and deaf,
you business men and politicans?
“I know what you're think
ing,” Brandon went on, his voice
rising, dark eyes flashing, big
fists cutting the air with power
ful gestures. “You’re thinking
what a fool idea it is that a
railroad can be laid down over
2,000 miles of desert and wilder
ness, crawling with hostile In
dians and with no white popula
tion, no settlements, no farms, no
hope of business, all the the way
from the Missouri River to the
Pacific Ocean. That’s in your
head. I know it! But you’re
wrong! Can’t you see that Amer
ica will have to find homes for
a hundred million people, maybe
two hundred million, ebofre an
other century pascs, and that
land must be found for them?
Can’t you see that it’s always
been westward, IIo! for the white
man since the earliest days? It’s
the Iren Horse he’s ridin’ now,
and the Indians will be power
less to stop it. Nature, herself,
•an’t halt the American spirit!
“I tell you, Marsh, the Pacific
Railroad is corning. We’ll see it
in ten years. Let people laugh ,
and call me a crazy fool and
dreamer 1 know, Marsh, I know!
I feel it.”
“Brandon,” said Marsh, and
his words fell like stones, 'you
talk like a Fourth of July spell
binder. Dream away your own
life, if you will. It’s yours. But
you owe something better to that
boy. Give him a chance. You say
you ‘know,’ you ‘feel.’ What do
you visionaries know about the
practical side of such a scheme?
Have any of you ever figured
what it would cost to build a
railroad from ' the Missouri to
California? Do you gentlemen
who live up in the clouds ever
allow your seleves to consider
such material matters as hard
cash, or where the money is go
ing to come from? Well, I’ll tell
you. It would cost at least $100
000 a mile—probably more than
$200,000,000 in all—if it could
be done, which it couldn’t ! What
you knoAv’ iudeed!”
“I suppose there’s no use say
ing anything more,” Brandon
replied, slowly. “Still, I don’t
mind telling you that if surveys
along the old Indian and Over
land Trails to Oregon and Cali
fornia could sIioav easy passes
through the mountains, Avhy
there are men standing ready in
the East to pusch the road
through Congress. Big men,
Tom. Millionaires. Smart as you
are!’’
CHAPTER II
DAVY AND MIRIAM
"While Thomas Marsh was
laboring at the hopeless task of
converting Ilig Dave Brandon to
the ways of the practical and
steady-going, their children, the
one link of sympathy and under
standing between these opposite
souls, weTe “laying out the rail
road to California.”
Over the mow-covered meadow
leading to Berry’s Pond (a won
derful place for bull-heads in the
spring), Davy and Miriam were
plotting the road of dreams,
playing the game with the so
lemnity of all small people who
make toys of grown-up ideas.
Passionately devoted to his
father, almost his father’s only
sympathetic listener in all
Springfield, Davy had glanced a
remarkably clear understanding
of the great project that domi
nated Brandon’s thoughts. Boy
like, with a strong inclination in
to the mimicry of play the visions
and prophecies which his father
poured into his ears.
“Playing railroad” was the
most absorbing game that Davy
Brandon knew. Into the game he
put not only his father’s ideas,
but those romantic and idealistic
impressions which a boy of ten
gathers from mixed reading.
Davy’a railroad building with
Miriam had touches of the Old
Testament and the army of
Moses toiling towards the Prom
ised Land of Richard, Lion
Heart and the Crusades, and of
Daniel Boone blazing his way
through the forests and over
mountains of young Americ^.
Naturally, Davy saw the hero
of these epic achievements, with
Miriam playing an enthusiastic
but secondary role. Feminism
and the invasion of the gentler
sex into the sports and workaday
activities of little men and big
had felt no urge and made no
progress. In the Illinois of the
fifties, “woman’s place was still
in the home,” and they were con
tent to follow a step or two be
hind their lords, the masters of
creation.
Davy had made a rude imita
tion of his father’s battered theo
dolite and t.ripod, and with Miri
am to carry line and drive stakes,
he put the Pacific Railroad
through all barriers of man and
nature to its glorious end in the
land of sunshine and gold.
Miriam, gifted associate in this
mighty engineering achievement
which never got beyond Berry’s
Pond, played a willing enough
part because she would have en
tered into any game that Davy
fancied. Her little legs plodded
back and forth in wake of the
great engineer, as she obeyed his
stern commands. If the garni?
pleased Davy, it. was fun enough
for her, although she could never
take it quite so seriously. Vari
ous remarks made by her fathei'
on the general subject of “Bran
don and his crazy notions” ling
ered in her mind.
“We’re surveyin’ through
Nebrasky Territory, now, Miri
am;” said Davy, his eyes shining
with something of the strange
glow which burned in the eyes of
his father.
“Dad says it’s got to go that
way, Miriam, and Dad knows all
about it. He’s the smartest man
in Springfield, my Dad is.”
“ ’Non where do wwe take the
road?” asked Miriam, reason
ably.
Davy paused, brow knitted.
This was a puzzler. Was it Wyo
ming that l.is father had said?
“We’ll survey her through the
Indian country,” said Chief En
gineer Brandon, of the Great
Pacific Railroad.
Watch out now, wlulc I run
the line. Won’t do to make any
mistakes.'Affects the figgers.”
The pathfinders, altogether
absorbed in play, were quite
unaware of the quiet amusement
they were furnishing to a citizen
of Springfield who had ridden
his horse into town along the
Macon County Road, and had
observed the children as they
stood in earnest conference.
This man descended from his
tall and rather bony nag. hitch
ed it to a sapling and slowly ap
proaehed over the snow toward
the bondary line of “Nebrasky.”
Coming to a rail fence which
zigzagged its irregular course a
few rods from the children, he
leaned over it and watched them
for a while, silently, fun gleam
ing in his laiye eyes, and pluck
ing at the corners of his wide
mouth.
Tn all Springfield there was
•no one who filled the eye. He
1 was very tall, to begin with, this
man, a shade more than tlx feet
and three inches; but his spare
ness of build and length of arm
and leg suggested even greater
height. He was in the middle
years, forty-ofur actually, yet
seemed older bpcause of a kind
of melancholy which clung about
him. His face, long and surmount,
ed with a splendid high, broad
forehead, easily discernible under
the round fur cap he was wear
ing, was the face of a mau whom
faith and a high heart brought
through deep trouble. Hardship,
a life of toil, the habit of thought,
had graven their lines upon it—a
sad face, gentle as a mother’s in
spite of it ruggednes; with heavy
brows over dark, curiously deep
set eyes; a large, generous nose;
a wide mouth which remained
presistently humorous, and clean
cut jaws culminating in the chin
of a man of action.
Over his big, slightly stooping
shoulders, now slouched upon the
top rail, was draped a woolen
shawl of red and brown “checks’
which had given him comfort
on his long cold ride from
court in the adjoining county.
Underneath the shawl was vis
ible a coat of dark blue, with
brass buttons, such an upper gar
ment as the country lawyers of
that day were fond of wearing,
the uniform of their trade. Long
coat-tails flapped almost to the
tops of leather boots which had
seen many months of service. The
great brown hands were encased
in heavy mittens of wool, clumsy,
but warm and serviceable.
It was Assistant Surveyor
Marsh, whose bright eyes saw
him first. This pleasing discovery
not only suspended the progres.4
of the great railroad for that
day, but brought sudden dis
aster to Chief Surveyor Bran
don’s invaluable aide. In de
lighted recognition of the tall
man, Miriam sprang backward
with a cry of welcome, attempt
ed a curtsey, lost her balance
and went tubmling into & snow
drift which betrayed her into
the chilly water of the pond’s
edge. Her gasp of fright
brought to the rescue of beahty
in distress, not only Davy, but
the silent onlooker. He came
forward with long strides, great
arms swinging, just as Davy
fished a bedraggled Mariam,
from the water. Complete was
the wrreck of Miss Marsh’s cos
tume. Wide hat, gingham dress
(so beautifully starched and
prim only a little while ago),
pantalettes with lace edges, all
dripped mournfully.
As Miriam wiped away the
tears which streaked the charm
ing face, as pink as a peony, the
tall man all sympathy and gent
leness, gathered her to him with
a comforting arm, and applied 1
vast, red bandanna handkerchief
to the watery ruin.
“Now, "ow, you mustn’t cry,
Miriam,” he said in hisslow,
deep voice. “Everything’s all
right. You surveyors must expect
to meet with little accidents now
and then. I’ll tell Daddy it was
my fault.”
“I wasn t s-s-scared!” sobbed
Miriam. “It just made rne mad,
Mr. Lincoln, to be so awkward.
What will you and Davy think
of me for being so awfully awk
ward ? A boy wouldn’t have tum
bled down like a rag doll!”
“I’ve seen many a boy take
tumbles,” said the tall man,
“That’s nothing to w-orry about.
Howdy, Davy. How’s the great
railroad coming along?”
“Fine, Mr. Lincoln.” Davy’s
enthusiasm exploded. “I got it
all figured out, clear to the
Rocky Mountains.”
“Well, that’s more than a lot
of other folks have got figured
out,” smiled the gentle giant.
“But we must be getting this
young lady home in two shake
of a lamb’s tail. Wet clothes and
a January afternoon aren’t a
good combination for young la
dies who are trying to grow up,
arc they, Davy?”
He hoisted Miriam to his great
shoulders, carried her to where
his horse was tied, set her down
a moment until he climbed into
the saddle, than lifted her from
the ground, placing her in front
of him. With his right arm he
swung Davy up to a seat behind
the saddle. He clutche" to old
Caesar, patient and understand
ing companion of many a lonely
ride on court circuit, persuading
that amiable steed into an ac
celeration of movement which
friends of Abraham Lincoln and
the horse weere wont to describe
as a Jog trot. They had only a
little way to go, less than half a
mile, which was as well, for Miri
am was rjpidly growing chilled.
As they tnrned the corner of the
street by the old elm. Marsh and
Big Dave, now at the and of a
futile argument, caught eight of
them. Marsh clutched Brandon*4
arm.
There’s something wrong,
Dave. Miriam’s bundled up in a
shawl. Abe Lincoln’■ carrying
her.”
Brandon smiled reassuringly.
“I don’t know Just what’s
happened to our Miriam, Tom,”
he said calmly, “but I do know
Abe Lincoln. If anything serious
had occurred, you’d see those
long legs of Abe’s reaching out
toward us in six-foot hops. lie
wouldn’t wait fbr old Caesar.
Looks to me if she had tumbled
into the water somewhere. Be
sides, there’s Davy laughing at
one of Abe’s yarns.”
From old Caesar’s quarter
deck, Mr. Lincoln lifted a quiet
ing hand.
“Nothing to bother about,
boys. Our young lady forgot all
about Berry’s Pond being right
behind her when she tried to
make a special curtsey in my
honor. ’ ’
He gently lowered Miriam into
her fathr’s arms.
“Into the house with ou, Mias
for warm clothes and a hot
drink, ’ ’ he said with mock stern
ness. “Then I may tell you the
rest of th© story about the little
red squirrel.”
Miriam scudded across the
lawn and into her own home,
while Davy, at a nod fr6m his
father, and a pat on the shoulder
from Lincoln’s big hand, ran in
to Brandon cabin to build up
the fire for supper. The three men
were silent for a few moments,
Abraham Lincoln sensing that
some dispute had arisen be
tween his two friends. With the
patience and sure tact that mark
ed him to the end of his days, he
waited for one of them to speak.
It was Marsh w o broke the
silence.
“Abe,” he said, “I wish to
Heaven you could say something
to Dave that would serve to
sweep the cobwebs out of his
brain. Here’s a good man wasting
his life over a wild dream. A
railroad, clear across the country I
He’s losing his common sense.
“Dave and I came out to this
country together, as you know.
We started even. I’ve made
money. I’ll make more. I stick to
something. I don’t go frettering
away time and energy chasing
will-0’-the-wisps. Look at Dave!
He can’t stick to anything! All
he can talk about is railroad 1
Railroad! Railroad! I’m sick of
the world!”
(TO BEJ CONTINUED)
FORT M’HENRY
BECOMES PARK
Its Valiant Stand Against
British Inspired Key to Write
“Star Spangled Banner."
Baltimore.-—-The decision of Con
gress to "pension” old Fort McHenry
by converting It Into a national park
recalls the history of that famous
redoubt, whose vallaat stand against
the attacking British vessels In the
war of 181. Inspired Francis Scott
Key to write "The Star Spangled
Banner.”
During its more than a century of
service for Uncle Sam it has played
Its part In four ware—once as a stal
wart defender of the nation’s shores!
again as a prison for recalcitrant
citizens; later as a garrison, and
finally as a hospital for sick and
wounded soldiers.
The site on which the fort stands
was first fortified about the time of
the revolution and named Star Fort.
Following the war the task of con
verting It Into a real means of de
fense was undertaken, and 820.000
was raised for that purpose. When
completed It was named after Dr.
John. McHenry, Washington’s min
ister of war.
Defeats British
Less than a quarter of a century
later “Old Mo" proved the money well
spent when It withstood the sharp
attack of the British during the battle
of North Point, a battle considered
by many one of the decisive engage
ments of the war of 1812.
It was during this attack that
Key was moved to write his famous
song, when he looked from the deck
of a British vessel, t« which he had
gone to arrange an cachange of pri
soners, and beheld Old Glory still
fluttering in the breeze, after a Might
of heavy bombardment.
No unusual incidents marked tho
life of the fort from that time on
until the Civil war burst forth
spreading bitterness and hate be
tween neighbors and sometimes be
tween members of the same family.
Baltimore, situated as It was near
the borderline of north and south,
suffered keenly from this wartime
spirit of ramor and suspicion
Imprisoned There
The result was that several of Jts
most prominent citizens were arrest
ed, under suspicion of being in sym
pathy with the Confederacy, and
thrown Into Port McHenry for safe
keeping The prisoners Included a
couple of sta»« represenlntives and
the mayor of Baltimore.
Diana Comes Down to Earth
-zszm 1
~~ Ji
The lowering of Salnt-Gaudens' famous statue of Diana, that ha* for ,
10 years stood atop the tower of Stanford White's architectural gem.
Madison Square Garden, famous for boxing bout*, conventions and circuses,
brought wistful memories to the eyes of a crowd of old-timers who watched
the proceedings reverently from Madison Square. Diana will not he lost,
however, as New York University will re-erect the famous tower with the
statue above It on the campus. Photo shows the statue as It started Its
descent, with New York’s skyline In the background.
Attorney General's Job To Enforce
Laws, Not To Rule On Their Merits
Charles P. Stewart’s Washington NEA Service
Do tneir laws over-regulate me
American people?
"That's not for me to say," re
plied United States Attorney Gen
eral John G. Sargent. "My business,
as attorney general. Is to enforce
the law. Making laws Is a legisla
tive function. I'm a strong believer
in each man sticking to his own job.
"If 1 were a legislator. I'd have
something to say about law-making.
In the department of justice my
duty Is to administer the laws as I
find them. If I think a change
should be made, I may recommend
It. I've no right or desire to crit
icize otherwise.
"Most of our troubles seem to
me due to intolerance—a failure to
understand our neighbors. In this
country our laws change pretty fast,
too. Accustomed to the old estab
lished laws, We violate the new ones
unreflectingly. I believe that’s how
most of our new regulations are
broken—thoughtlessly.
“Generally, I think the American
people mean to obey our laws."
> • •
"Doesn’t our multiplicity of regu
lations," I asked, “hamper law en
forcement. Doesn’t It make for a
general disrespect of law? Anyway,
there are more arrests Just now
than ever. Prison populations are
increasing."
"Our laws,” said the attorney
general, "in the very nature of
things, must naturally expand in
proportion to our growth, nationally
and internationally, for we live in
a period of constant progress, social
and industrial.
“You emphasize that there are
more arrests for infractions of the
law than ever before. To me that
suggests better law enforcement,
not laxity."
* * *
"As to prohibition?’’ I queried.
"Absence of saloons, less drunk
enness, a better moral atmosphere
everywhere, are evidences that pro
hibition has wrought great good."
"But secret drinking?”
"I’m not aware of much.”
A sudden suspicion! The scientist
"Still, don’t large numbers of
those who class as pretty good cit
izens habitually disregard many of
today’s laws regulative of personal
conduct?”
“When a man deliberately and
continually breaks the law,” said
Attorney General Sargent, “I can’t
class him as a good citizen.”
* m m
A tarpaulin-covered truck broke
down, Just across the District of
Columbia line, in Maryland, opposite
the home of a distinguished scient
ist attached to the bureau of stand
ards. Ringing the scientist’s bell,
“Can I use your garage while I get
help?" asked the driver. “Sure.”
The truck, housed with some diffl
culty, the driver left,
• * •
lifted the tarpaulin. Booz«4 Tha
angry scientist, a dry, telephoned
authorities in Washington. A mo-'
torload of agente arrived—Investi
gated. Then, "I’d like to borrow*
your phone,” quoth the leader. A'
cryptic conversation ensued. "Now,"
said the leader, “we’ll hide In these
bushes till the guy comes back.” {
• • •
The scientist watched from hia
porch. Another truck appeared.
The original driver and a helper
hooked a chain onto the cripple.
“Now,” thought the scientist, "for
the arrest!" Instead, the truck dl*
appeared in a cloud of dust. “Out
side our Jurisdiction," explained the
dry leader, omerging from the
bushes. “We couldn't do nothin'.
I'm afraid he got clean away."
• * *
“Too much red tape!" complained
the artless scientist, telling me the
story later. “That’s why prohib!-[
tion can’t be enforced.”
GERMAN CAPITAL !S
BEING INVESTED IN
TURKISH INDUSTRY1
Washington.—A large volume of
German capital Is being invested In
Turkish development enterprises, ac
cording to consular advices to the
department of commerce.
The Deutsche bank has become in
terested in exploitation of the Arg
hnna copper mines. Philip Holzmao,
of Frankford, has started a railway!
from Arghana to Ardassa on thei
Bagdad railway, a distance of 130'
miles. Bavarian capitalists have ob-!
talned a forest concession near De-'
cos, on the European side of the
Black Sea, and are preparing t6
make railroad ties in competition1
with Rumania.
“A more ambitious German pro-'
Ject, which appears to command'
strong support In Angora, covers th®;
reconditioning of certain Turkish!
vessels of war, while the Junkerj
Aeroplane company is said to have
come to terms with the government
on the question of an airway con
cession between Constantinople and
Angora and the construction of an!
aircraft factory near the capital,",
the department announced.
Defeat wn Deserved.
From the Oklahoma City Dally Ok-I
lahoman.
A 10-year agitation to adopt a
new state seal for Nebraska resulted
recently In a legislative defeat. It
seems that some Nebraskans are dis
satisfied with the seal of state which
shows an aproned man hammering
away at an anvil and representing
“equality before the law." Such a
representation Is denounced as “low
brow stuff” by the agitators. Pre-:
sumably they would be better pleased
with a sg«l dedicated to some modern
manifestation of Jazz.
It Is well enough that the Nebraska
Innovators have met with a tempor
ary defeat. In spite of the prevalence
of ultra-modern Ideas that frown on,
all things provincial and old-fash
ioned. there Is still need in this re
public for the recognition of honest
labor and democratic equality. There1
may be those out In the Platte
country whose souls shrink from any
thought of toll and pioneer crudeness,
but they are not the Ifrind that mad*
Nebraska.
On the Surface.
From Epworth Herald.
Jones—I hear your wife had an ac
cident with the car.
Smith—Oh, it was not sertous.
Jones—Anything damaged?
Smith—Oh. no; just a little paint
scratched off both.