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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 8, 1928)
Jumping Meridians By LINTON WELLS and NELS LEROY JORGENSEN ^ 6 Rogers smiled faintly. “Of course I do! The little key was money. I think you’ve got a great idea, Brandon,’’ he went on. “How much do you care to stake that you can beat me?” “B eat you?” repeated Frances. “Austin, are ; ou go ing to do it?” Rogers shrugged. “If it would please you, of course-” he drawled. “Why not? And why not make the race interest ing, Frances, and promise the winner a greater reward than his fame?” The girl flushed. .Timmy waited, and inside him some thing was crying out in pro test. Her hand—to the win ner? The very thought was revolting, yet it was patently what Rogers suggested. It was sacrilege to make love the stake of this mad gamble. Let *be- he thought—let the race /go on; let him prove himself adventurer superb or gambler unworthy. But not love—like a red, open heart thrown be fore a croupier on the green baize! But Frances possessed more fact. “I don’t see,” she faltered at last, “how I could fail to care a lot for the man who would break every record for me. It would be a—a proof of devo tion too great to deny.” Rogers smiled with cool un •derstandiog. He turned hack ’to liis rival. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “Today is Monday. We'll start from our club* Brandon, right around the corner here uii Fifth avenue, on whatever day you say.” “Wednesday suits me. At what hour?” “Twelve noon, exactly. "We Iravel by whatever route we choose, of course, complete ly independent of each other. And now,’’ Rogers added smoothly, “the side bet, for the sake of interest?” Jimmy hesitated, reflecting on his thinning hank account, lie had been contemplating ac cepting a job as foreign cor respondent only the day be fore. Of course, a rich aunt was expected to die within a few years, but that was a possi bility which Jimmy rever con sidered. He had never consid ered money, for that matter, -except when lie was without it. At those times, more fre quent than it was pleasant to remember often, he had discov ered, however, that he could •earn a great deal- in any num ber of ways. But in making it. he had learned to spend it, too, which was chiefly the rea aon why a legend of his having made a strike had become cir culated on his return to New York. At the moment, however, he did not relish the wager with Rogers. How much did he dare to stake? he wondered. At last. “How about $15, 0(H)?” he ventured. It was half of what he owned in the world, and the remain der would ho barely sufficient for the coining venture, he rea- ■ son •'1. Rigors smiled. “Haven’t you more faith in yourself than that?” he asked languid ly. Jimmy flushed. “Double it then!” he exclaimed. “Is that better?” Boyers bowed briefly. '“Done!” he cried. “Noon Wednesday. Till that moment, Bran longood luck!” Jimmy found himself out side the Lassiter house a few minutes later. Billy Crane had taken himself off with the last of the tea guests a tew l moments before he had emerged from the den, else he w<n:' 1 have boon with him. ■' ""'s broke! Rogers’ taunt had drawn from him almost the last penny he owned in the world. Two or three thousand would remain in the bank after he had posted the certified check as his share of the wager at the Hudson club the follow ing morning. In the meantime, where to get money to take him around the world in record time— money enough, added to his knowledge of the globe, to beat Austin Rogers’ careless mil lions T CHAPTER III. Jimmy Brandon spent most of the night that followed sit ting on the edge of the bed in his rooms at the Hudson club, telephoning and wiring every where, but chiefly to Washing ton. By midnight’ he had ev ery passport visa promised to him; by 9 o’clock of the fol lowing day, lie was in the cap ital, rushing from one embassy to another. Rogers, he discov ered, was up to the same task —he had arrived the night be fore. , That afternoon he was on his way back to New York, ready for the journey, so far as cus toms and passport were con cerned. A wide acquaintance in diplomatic circles and a cer tain familiarity with the coun tries for which he was bound had aided him. But he needed greatly the time he had gained on Rogers. After the latter was ready for the trip he had no more to wor ry about. But Jimmy had the most important feature still staring him in the face. With his steamship reservations out of Seattle purchased and re served, his airplane accommo dations eared for, and his plans made as far west as Yokohama, he still had to obtain the money wherewith to make the long and hazardous journey. 1 hero was only one place ; he had known from the begin ning. lie had but oue friend in New York on whom he could rely. Even him he had neg lected ; but Billy Crane never changed. Years before, when the United States entered the World war, Billy Crane had left a prosperous brokerage business in New York to join the air service, and at Kelly Field he and Jimmy Brandon had met as pupil and instruc tor, respectively. Later they had been together over the lines in France; and a friend ship had begun that had never faltered. It was seldom that the wan dering correspondent and erst while soldier of fortune got to New York, and when lie did, his visits were short. Sometimes lie failed even to see his friend; but theirs was an understand ing that needed no explana tion. Billy, with the armistice, had returned to his settled life and position; the war to him had been the great adventure of life. To his friend, it had been but an interlude—one campaign, slightly more serious Man the rest, a part of an ar duous and campaigning life. Jimmy was a part of the col orful world. From his Wall Street, office, Billy Crane fol lowed his adventurings, smil ing generally—but sometimes the smile was a trifle wistful. For Crane, Jimmy Brandon was living the life that life had not given him to lead. It was early in the evening when Jimmy reached his friend’s home, a dignified, nar row building of brownstone, with brass fittings adorning the doors shining from a daily polishing covering many years. He was admitted, and a ser vant took his hat and stick but informed him that the nrfister of the house was not at home. “You expect him. I sup pose,” Jimmy frowned, recall ing all that he had before him that evening. “How soon?” “Almost any time, sir. Miss Natalie is here—” He broke off, as one of the high doors opening off the wide hallway was flung open, and framed there, behind her the dull bronze glow of library lights* stood a girl. “Natalie!” Jimmy flushed. He had never met Billy’s sister, but he had heard her spoken of so often that the fact was al most forgotten. So this was she. Preoccupied though he was, and disinterested in the sight or conversation of any woman at the moment, Jimmy found himself stariag. Natalie was everything that in his mind he had catalogued her as not be ing. Billy’s sister, who had returned only a few days be fore from Europe, to care for her brother at his home, he had expected to find a capable, motherly sort, possibly a bit pedantic after a longe period of schools and travels—at least, not a woman in the sense that women are beautiful creatures. “Yes—Natalie. Good of you to recognize me, Mr. Bran don.” She came forward with a slow smile for his discomfiture. He noticed in a flash the white of her even teeth, her very red, young lips—her cool, slightly amused eyes-—strangely under standing and calm browrn eyes for one so young, he thought. “I—J didn’t recognize you, I don’t think,” he confessed. “It was just a slip. Billy’s spoken of you so often. I hope you’ll forgive me.” “I was rather flattered*” she replied. “Won’t you come in and wait for my brother? He’s inevitably late, but I expect him at any minute.” “You’re sure—sure he’ll be in soon? You see, I’m—” “And now I’m not a bit flat tered!” she laughed, and the laugh deepened with his dis comfiture. “However, he will be in almost any time.” “I’m sorry!” Jimmy ex claimed. There was something of a ready camaraderie about this girl that he found discon certing at the same time that it was oddly pleasant. Other wo men he had known had such different attitudes; men were to them enemies, lie had sensed, to be held off—charmed—de nied. “Horribly sorry,” he added, turning over Ids gloves to the waiting servant, who made elf with them down the hall, a:d following the girl into the big, high-ceilinged room. Across from the door, before a cold fireplace, a huge divan was drawn up. She had been read ing. Into a corner of it she drew herself. “The fact is,” Jimmy ex plained as he dropped info a chair near her, “I’m in rather bad shape. You’ll have to for give me if I go off on tangents. I’m starting tomorrow on a race around the world.” “A race around the world!” she exclaimed delightedlv. “But—why?” lies miled ruefully. “I’m not certain why, come to think of it, except that is seems my par ticular forte to do something like it.” “That’s enough.” she said quickly, seriously. “It’s the sort of thing one comes to ex pect of you, I find. Tell me about it.” In the next moment, Jimmy found himself leaning forward and explaining with a certain amount of eagerneas the whole affair, avoiding, for some rea son. mention of its inception. Tt was pleasant, he realized in a vague way, to sit and talk to Natalie like this. He hadn’t thought it possible to talk at such length about himself or his plans. “And you made the bet only yesterday?” she exclaimed. “At the club, I suppose?” lie hesitated. “No—o,” he admitted. “At Miss Lassiter’s home. We were there for tea. you know—I met Billy there.” “Oh yes.” Her voice was noncommittal. “Billy told me I didn’t go. I haven’t yet met Miss Lassiter. You see, I’d been a schoolgirl and away, up till the time 1 went abroad.” She stood up as the outer door dosed heavily axd a voice was heard in the ball. “Bill’s home,” she announced. Crane’s face, when he flung open the doors and entered the room, was tired and slightly strained. lie was growing old er, Jimmy thought- and was vaguely glad that lie had never gone into business. But his smile was as cheery and shrewd as usual when he glanced from his sister to his friend. “So you’ve met—at last,” h* said. “I warned you, you’d be disappointed, Nat. As a ladies’ man, Jimmy's flat.” He turned abruptly to the other and his features sobered. “Did you come to give us the pleas ure of your company at tea, or is there something on your mind?” “The last,” grunted Jimmy. “I’ve got to see you at once, old man. There’s a lot up, ana I need some help.” Crane nodded, smiled wryly at his sister, and then turned away, opening the door into his study beyond. Jimmy, with a brief bow to the girl, preceded him inside. When the door was closed, Crane chuckled. “You’ve got yourself in wrong with Nat, old son-” he said. “Do you realize that she’s been waiting to lay eyes on the gallant Jimmy Brandon for the last five or six years? Gallant —ye gods! And here, ou first sight, you walk off and leave her flat.” “I can’t imagine,” Jimmy returned wonderingly, “why she should want to set eyes on im. I had enough time, though, to discover that your sister was wonderfully charming. What dees she do?” “Chiefly,” Crane smiled, “she emulates a certain hero whom she took to her heart back in the war days, when you were teaching me how to fly down in San Antone and she was at boarding school in Bos ton. I took her up in a plane three times after she came out of school—I’ve taken a reserve commission, you know, so I still rate a ship occasionally—and then she wanted to become an aviatrix. I wouldn’t teach her. So what do you suppose she did?” Jimmy sook his head. “Went to France and took lessons. She came back here two days ago with a pilot's li cense from the International Federation!” Jimmy laughed. “I’ve missed something. I wish I'd known when I was talking to her.” “She’d never tell you,” murmured Crane hastily. “But enough of this.” His features took on a serious look. “What’s up? What can I do?” Jimmy hesitated. “It was that business yesterday. After I left you, I undertook to break the record for getting around the world. I start tomorrow.” “Great! You’re the man who can do it. There’ve been too many talking about it and mapping it out on paper. Is that all?” “1 hat s only the beginning. It's to be a race—not only against time—but against Aus tin Rogers!” “Rogers!” Billy Crane sat back and whistled, and his eyes narrowed. “Rogers, eh? I begin to understand. Might label it ‘For Fame and Love’ or something like that. Go on.” “And Rogers trapped me into a bet—$.‘10,000. It’s all the money I own, Billy, and I posted the check this morning. Now do you see what I need? I start tomorrow—and I’m broke!” Crane whistled. “Thirty thousand! You’ve got to win, Jim—you’ll be rich!” “I shall win.” “How much do you need, then?” briefly. “Twenty thousand, to make the trip.” “No more?” (TO BE CONTINUED) BABE RUTH’S BATTING At one time Babe Ruth submitted to tects to determine quickness of ' his responses to impulses from the brain to the hand and was found to be perceptibly quicker than any body else tested. A tall from the pitcher can come tut feet nearer to Ruth before he has to decide what to do than any other player. The moment he de cides his bat is already almost to the ball. The almost instantaneous re sponse of his hands makes him so outstanding that there is nobody like hin;. The very quality that gives this immediate response also works lor accuracy. Most people have at rnc time or another submitted to t? ‘s to learn how quickly they can set after an impulse goes from the l ain Witn untrained people the esponse is very slow, and with n t people it is riot quick. And yet he quickness with which we can a t after we decide what to do is ' merally the measure of efficiency. Of course there is « old fable about the tortoise v-t all that comes to is that the hare being quick of response frequently gets | too confident and goes to sleep on the job. The point with Babe Ruth is that having the advantage of quickness he trains himself to use it. That has made him the greatest hitter in the whole history of baseball. -»■» —- — Q. How many shots are used in 12, 16, and 20 gauge shells? M. R. H. A. There are two kinds of shots used in shells, the chilled and the drop. The number of shots used depends upon the weight of the shots. In a 12 gauge gun from 223 to 279 chilleo shots are used, the weight of chilled shots varying from 1 to 1',* ounces. There are from 218 to 268 drop shots used. The weight of drop shots for this shell varying from 1 to lVi ounces. In the 1G gauge gun. IDG to 223 chilled shots are used, the weight of such shots varying from T» to 1 ounce. There are 192.218 drop shots used, the weight of drop shots being 7» to 1 ounce. In the 20 gauge gun 167 to 195 chilled shots are used, the weight of such shots varying from to % ounce There aie 163 to 190 drop shots used, the weight of such shots varying from ** to % ounce. —— -• %-— Fur farming is now on“ of the most important industries of Can ada. • SPOTTING A GOOD IDEA From the Rochester Times-Union. Can you spot a good idea when you see one? A biographer of Her.ry Ford writes of him: “His business judgment is uneiring. With him a sensible idea needs neither eluci dation nor argument.” The phrase is neatly turned and the characterisation is complete. The man is portrayed not as a great thinker or a deep thinker, but as a sound thinker. Such are they who require neither explan ation nor bully-ragging when an idea is sensible on its face. Compare with this type of mind the loose-leaf mind, the waste basket-bureau-drawer mind in which ideas are simply lost in the confusion. Such minds are power less to invoke and use the mental law of association. And what use is a good idea if you do not per ceive where it fits in? Like the un skilled worker in the great indus trial plant, the idea goes to the bot tom of the payroll, producing little and earning less. As we look over the day’s record of the methods by which people are fooled, we judge a large portion of the public feeds on elucidation and argument, but cannot distinguish between a sound idea and a fake. Here, then, is a standard where by one may test his own intelli gence: Is it your experience that the several brilliant ideas which come to you have been tried and discarded by hundreds of others be fore your time? If so, you would do well not to trust your mental machine too far afield. You will be the victim of your own muddy thinking. You will be fleeced and fooled by sharpers against whom there is no law save the law of straight thinking. --... The Ways of Spanish Trains J. n. Trend, in “Spain from the South.” I was standing in the queue, studying the railwavs act and vari ous orders upon the walls, when a disturbance behind me made me turn round. A market woman, with a bundle of rugs and a stone water jar, had taken her place in front of a man who had been waiting thera for some considerable time. He had called one of the C.vP guard, and they were now endeavoring to ex plain to her the mechanism of a queue. When she had been removed, protesting, to th eend of the tall, the man asked a a inspector when the train started. “The 6:30? “Yes.” "Today it will start at 8:30.” I turned round with an exclama tion. Such an early start, and all to no purpose! “They are always like that on this line,” the man said to me. “The time-table doesn’t give the hour at which the trains leave, but the fTme before which they will not start. “But is there always so much dif ference between them?” “Prom three-quarters of an hour to two hours and a half, generally.” “Then,” I said, “why don't people come here three-quarters ot an hour late?” “They w'ould not be able to take tickets. You can board the train afterwards even afte. it has started but the fare costs you more. The other day the train had gone more than kilometer down the line when I got to the station: but the station master whistled and stopped it, and I ran down the line with my bag, Phew! t “They have their advantages, after all, these lines,” he continued. When the train r ernes to a grad ient, it stops, and you can get out and stretch your legs. Sometimes the train sticks half-wa “And what hapoens then?” I was becomir^; interested in the pro cedure. “What generally; happens Is that they uncouple one or two trucks or carriages at the end of the train, and let them run down to the last station. The rest of the train goe3 on.” I laughed: it was a very Andaluz story. The man smiled faintly . . . Then he began again “The queerest thing that ever haooened to me on this line was the other day, at the junction. The train came in, and I was just getting into it when an inspector asked for my ticket. ‘This isn’t your train.’ he said. ‘Not my train?’ I asked. ‘Why haven’t I been waiting here since last pight for it? “‘Look at the date of your ticket,* he insisted. ‘This isn't yesterday'3 train. It is the one of the day before yesterday which was delayed in the mountains. Your train won’t be here till tomorrow morning.’ ‘But surely,’ I said to him, ‘I can go by this one?’ ‘No’, he replied, it is impossible, I’m afraid. It is laid down in the regulations that passen gers must travel by the train which corresponds with their ticket, and yours isn’t due now till tomorrow morning.’ ” -- A newly elected sheriff in one of the border counties of Texas re cently adverstised thus: “While I am not a believer in the prohibitory law the fact re mains it is a law and it is my duty to enforce it. I will pay $25 reward for infomation leading to the whereabouts of any bootlegger in this county.” Early the next day the sheriff re ceived a telephone message from a citizen. “Is it a fact you will give $25 re ward for the location of a bootleg ger?” was asked. “That is a fact," replied the sher iff. “Well I just called to say I will double the reward,” suggested the dry. citizen. “I am clsar out and would like to find one.”—Dallas Times. That Comes Later. Prom Life. Mrs. Jonas. Do your daughters live at home? Mrs. Smith: Oh, no! They aren’t married yet. Q What is meant by restricted Indians? S. A W. A. When Indians were allotted lauds, they had trust or restricted patents given them, saying that they could not alienate for a period of 25 years This is called the re stricted period—hence, the term re stricted Indians. Some of these trust periods have not expired. When your Children Ciy for It Baby has little upsets at times. All your care cannot prevent them. But you can be prepared. Then you can do what any experienced nurse would do—what most physicians would tell you to do— give a few drops of plain Castoria. No sooner done than Baby is soothed; re lief is just a matter of moments. Yet you have eased your child without use of a single doubtful drug; Castoria is vegetable. So it's safe to use as often as an Infant has any little pain you cannot pat away. . And It’s always ready for the crueler pangs of colic, or constipation or diarrhea; effective, too, for older children. Tivcnty.five million bottles were bought last year. MEDITERRANEAN £™‘“ •a “Transylvania'1 sailing Jan. 30 Clark's 25th cruise. 66 days, including Madeira, Canary Islands. Casablanca. Rabat. Capital of Morocco. Spain. Algiers. Malta, Athens. Con atantinople, 15 day* Palestine and Egypt. Italy. Kiviera. Cherbourg, (Faria). Includes boteta, guides, motor*, etc. Nww^r-MwNtMranem, JwuM, 1 *2S| MOO. FRANK C. CLARK, Times B14g., N.T. 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