n
*
'XZk'QU
Harold Titus
w.m.u
^ a v i ci.
THE STORY
Ben Elliott — from "Yonder” —
makes his entry Into the lumbering
town of Tlncup, -bringing an old
man, Don Stuart, who had been
eager to reach Tlncup. Nicholas
Brandon, the town's leading citizen,
resents Stuart’s presence, trying to
force him to leave town and Elliott,
resenting the act, knocks him down.
Judge Able Armitage hires Ben to
run the one lumber camp, the Hoot
Owl, that Brandon has not been able
to grab. This belongs to Dawn Mc
Manus, daughter of Brandon’s old
partner, who has disappeared with
• murder charge hanging over his
head. Brandon sends his bully, Du
val, to beat up Ben, and Ben throws
him out of camp. Old Don Stuart
dies, leaving a letter for Elliott,
"to be used when the going becomes
too tough.” Ben refuses to read it at
this time, believing he can win the
fight by his own efforts. Eire, sub-*
dued, is found to have been started
with gasoline. The Hoot Owl gets
an offer of spot cash for timber,
that will provide money to tide it
over. But there Is a definite time
limit on the offer. Ben discovers
Dawn McManus is not a child, as he
had supposed, but a beautiful young
woman. The railroad bridge over
which the Hoot Owl lumber must
pass, is blown up.
CHAPTER VII—Continued
—10—
Beu threw more coal into the Are
box, looked at his water gauge,
choved the reverse lever down into
the corner and opened the throttle.
The little old locomotive gave a
sharp, an almost startled, bark as
valves released their power, send
ing from Its stack a great puff of
cumulous vapor into the still morn
ing air. The drivers spun and she
let go a rapid series of exhaust
coughs. He shut off; opened again,
and this time the tires found pur
chase. The slack came out, the
cars moved and, Journals squealing,
belching and stuttering, they broke
over to the down grade.
Elliott had her wide open, now,
and the loads, on that grade, ran
easily despite the binding cold In
their journals. The rock and pitch
of the engine were beyond belief.
It seemed as though its weight must
carry the light steel from its spikes
as the careening ‘threw tons of
strain first one way and then the
other.
The curve at the trestle’s ap
proach rushed up the valley toward
him and through Elliott’s mind
awam all manner of misgivings. It
aeemed at the moment that If by
any freak chance the wheels should
stay on the rails, then those rails
must surely give before the strain
that the train’s fiight would exert
as it took that curve. He threw one
quick glance backward to see Tim
Jeffers crouched on his high perch
as a circus rider might stand on
his boldly galloping steed. The old
man chewed briskly and, ns he
caught a fiash of Ben’s face, spat
and made one impressive gesture
with a mittened hnnd, bidding the
younger man get outside.
Ben had done all that he could do
In the cab. Nothing within his
power would be of avail If they
left the track nnd. Inside, he would
have no chance at all should the
wild run come to its end in the
smoking waters of the river.
And so he backed into the gang
way between tank and engine and
slid down to the step, clinging to
the hand rails, staring ahead, ready
to let go if the worst, and the high
ly probable, happened.
The curve was there, the length
of their locomotive ahead. . . . The
trucks took it with a screech and
a bounce and a grind. She turned
sharply and Ren thought he felt her
tipping, tilting, the step beneath
his feet rising as the force that
6trove them off at a tangent as
serted Itself. ... He swung far
out, to give tier that much more bal
ance, and they were straightening
out with the loads thundering and
clanking and leaping behind and he
breathed deeply, realizing that for
the Interval his lungs had not func
tioned.
And now they charged at the
bridge, at that rough, new crossing
of Hoot Owl. The engine bounced
and quivered and seemed to stumble
as she took the newly laid track.
Rut she slammed back to balance
and her tires chewed the frost, and
they were over and charging the
rise beyond!
Ren clambered back into the cab
and tugged at the throttle, cursing
because it would not open wider.
He strained as though by his very
posture to help the machinery meet
that demand upon It. Nobly, the
little locomotive breasted the rise;
bravely she lunged Into that hill
with the exhaust roaring fit to beat
the rusted, burned stack from her.
She spat cinders and smoke high
Into the nlr and the steam clouds
from the leaking gaskets enveloped
Elliott, curling about him, shutting
off his view. They were slowing,
now. The roaring drum of the ex
haust had dropped now to a sharp
panting.
They were half-way up before he
touched the reserve lever. He let
it down slowly, a notch at a time,
using every last Inch of the momen
tum he had gained. Up, now, three
quarters of the way. Hen could
see the rails on the hit of level
going at the top. Up another train's
length, slowing with each foot
gained. Afar off, across the snow
blanketed country, a plume of white
vapor trailed a break In the forests.
That was the local, crossing the rlv
er. swinging In toward his siding
“Go it. girl! Go it, girl!” he
yelled at the engine, swinging one
fist.
She shoved her nose over the
crest, seeming to weave it from side
as In distress. Her drivers slipped
and spun a half turn; caught on
sand, held. She began a stutter
ing. dying puff. The sound wav
ered, She seemed to stop. . . .
and cleared her cylinders with a
short belch. . . .
She was on top. Her last breath
had turned the trick.
“Hold to It, old timer! Hold to
It 1" Ben croaked.
The first car gained the crest.
The locomotive was on the down
grnde. now; the second car coming
across the peak. The third car
rumbled over the top and Tim .Tef
Half a Mile Down the Track the
Local Pulled in Toward Him.
fers, dropping his peavey, wormed
along the logs and flopped down to
the brake wheel as Ben shut her
off, set the brakes and with a boy
ish swing of one arm yanked on the
whistle cord to set her voice scream
ing.
Back on the last car Tim clubbed
brake wheels. Out on the first, Ben
Elliott drove the shoe home. The
ancient locomotive dug her heels
In and settled back. Down and
down they went on the frost slick
steel, gathering speed that was as
alarming as the slowing of their
pace had been a moment before.
But with every train length trav
eled Tim Jeffers was setting more
brakes against the humming wheels.
She slid, she slipped, she squealed
and complained and clattered her
way down that final mile. They
had her under control at last and
slowly they edged around the curve
at the millpond, out onto the siding
and to a full stop.
Ben, dropping down, ran across
to the main line and held up his
hand. Half a mile down the track
the local puffed in toward him. The
whistle sent up Its cloud of steam
at his signal, he heard the engineer
shutting off and in minutes the
train slid In, brakes grinding.
“That stuff go?" the conductor
called, swinging down from the way
car.
“That stuff goes!" Ben said al
most reverently and turned to face
Tim who was filling his pipe with
unsteady hands.
It was a moment for the right word.
But Tim Jeffers was not a man
of words; not of many words.
“Well, you done it,” he said slm
ply.
“Yeah. With your help.”
“Still needin’ a camp boss?”
“Badly!"
“S'pose I’d do?”
“Do! Ix>rd, Tim, If—”
“All right. I’m hired to get out
logs again. Guess I’ll Idt .Mr, Bul
ler for a cuppa carfee. I’ve rode
trains now ’nd again, Ben, but of
all the rides I've ever took that
was what you might call th’ dang
dest!”
In a Minnesota lumber town a
bearded man sat near the stove In
a small hotel and heard the story
of what was happening in distant
Tlncup.
“Know him?” another listener
asked the narrator.
“Not the kid. I know Brandon,
’nd I know Tim Jeffers. Top load
ed for him three winters. If Tim’s
back there’s a hot scrap on and
. . . gosh! but I like scraps." '
“Mean you’re pulling for Tin
cup?”
“I’ll say I am!”
The bearded man cleared his
throat.
“You think, then, that the lad's
got a chance of making It against
Brandon?” he asked.
"It sure looks as If he had a
chance. With old Tlncup shanty
boys hitting back for their stamp
ing grounds his chances are getting
better. Ever been In Tlncup, Mar
tin?"
The other closed the blade of his
pocket knife and pulled at the lobe
of his left ear with his hand.
“I’ve heard of the place," lie said
quietly.
“Better hoist your turkey and
come along with me. Likely be
could find a place for a good book
keeper."
Martin smiled oddly but made no
other response
In far Hung camps and mill towns
the story was being repeated. Just
such men were leaving jobs and
turning their faces toward Tlncup,
known through the Lake states for
the tyranny that Nicholas Brandon
hud exercised there so many years.
Ben, sitting with his feet on
Abie’s desk in the justice's oflice,
grinned broadly ns he told of the
latest developments on the Job.
"Sixty-four men In camp this
morning,” he said. "Over thirty of
’em new and the best looking bunch
of loggers I’ve seen since I wus a
kid."
Aide glanced at a letter he had
been holding.
"And with the Milwaukee people
standing ready to finance us it
looks as If you might, maybe, per
haps be getting ready to find It all
down hill and shady, Ben. I think
that interesting this particular
bank is the best piece of wTork
you’ve done yet.”
"Nothing, Able. All I hnd to
show was what we were doing.
They can’t lose with the lumber
behind their notes.”
"Unless Brandon finds a way.
"You’ve got to watch every loop
hole, Benny. And you’ve got too
much for one man to do."
“Oh, It’s not thnt bnd. Things
are straightening out. Tim’s a
wonder; Buller isn’t missing a bet.
We ought to keep right on step
ping.”
Ben rose to go and, as he did so,
the door opened and Dawn Mc
Manus stepped in out of the lightly
falling snow.
"Oh!” she cried In surprise. It
was the first time she had seen Ben
since that morning a month ago
when he took the veneer logs on
their mad ride to save the Iloot
Owl operation from Immediate in
solvency. "Am I interrupting?”
“Come In, Dawn,” said Able, ris
ing.
And Elliott said: “If you are, It’s
nice to be Interrupted.”
She looked at him and, at first,
her eyes held that coolness which
was almost hostility but this melt
ed and she smiled.
“You say nice things, Ben El
liott !”
"How can anyone help saying
nice things to nice people?"
She made a playful mouth at
him and Ben watching her ns she
ndvanced to Abie's desk, thought
again that he never had supposed
women grew to such loveliness.
Her errand with the old justice
was brief. She and Ben went out
together, Dawn on her way home,
Ben to finish his errands in town.
At the corner where their ways
parted they stopped and Dawn
hesitated in what she had been say
ing. Then, looking into his face,
she asked:
"Does Mr. Ben Elliott ever take
tea with a young woman? You
know, I am beginning to think that
I like to talk to you 1"
"Then the risk of having It re
ported that I’m a lounge lizard Is
as nothing.”
The house where Dawh lived was
the house in which she had been
born, a sprawling white frame
structure beneath whispering hem
locks.
The fine odor of baking bread
permeated the place and as they
entered Dawn lifted her voice In a
light hail:
“Oh-ho, Aunt Em!”
Sounds came from the rear; a
door opened and closed, and then
another door opened which gave
into the room where they stood,
and an ample woman In a checked
apron, her face flushed us by stove
heat, entered hastily.
“Yes, dearie— Well I’’—stopping
in surprise.
“Aunt Em, this Is Mr. Elliott.
"How d'y do!" Her voice was
full and deep, like a man’s. “I’ve
seen you, young man, and if I was
a hand to say what most folks say
I’d tell you that I feel like we're
old friends.” She shook hands vig
ously. “You’re a big young feller,
Ben Elliott!”—eyeing him up and
down.
Dawn laughed again ns she drew
off her coat.
"Don’t you tell a soul, Aunt Em,
but we are going to have tea! If
his shanty boys ever heard about
if they might think lie was too much
civilized for them.”
“Pshaw1 As If what other folks
think counts!" She looked narrowly
at Dawn and Ben saw the girl’s
face change. “It’s what I’ve told
Dawn ever since she was little, Ben.
that It’s what you think about your
own self that matters; not what
anybody else thinks. Well! You
two set and I’ll get ten."
She hurried out and Ben drew
up a comfortable chair before the
fire.
In the half hour that elapsed be
fore the older woman returned Ben
learned much about Dawn McManus.
This was her house, her home. Aunt
Em, then a young woman, had been
housekeeper, there after Dawn’s
mother died. She had stayed on,
keeping the place up through the
years that Dawn was away at
school, making a living for herself
by baking, and now that Dawn was
home again she was the girl’s
closest friend and only confidant.
"There are so many people here
now who are not . . . No, I’ll
put It the other way: I’m not con
genial company for many people
in this country. It isn’t their fault.
It’s wholly mine. People have a
right to their opinions, of course.
Evidence was strong against my fa
ther. But he was no killer. He
never harmed anyone. I’m sure of
that. When people think of him
ns alive and a fugitive or dead
and disgraced it stirs my temper 1
You’ve heard about m.v fnther."
“Of course.
“Naturally, you would.”
They talked, after that, of per
sonal tastes, of the glories of big
country, of the limited recrentlons
offered by little towns.
“Just the movies! Now nnd then
there's a dance," the girl said, “but
none of the boys seem to wnnt to
take me. . . It Is my fault, like
ly." She was staring moodily Into
the Are. "I frighten them away. Mr.
Brandon asks me to go to the
movies now and then, but ... I
don’t know . . ."
"So Brandon wants to amuse you.
does he?"
"Yes. He’s been awfully kind to
me, always. Of course, I know that
Able nnd a lot of people think he’s
after the Hoot Owl nnd Is quite
ruthless about It, but they can prove
nothing. He was so good to me
when I was little nnd talks so rea
sonably to me now that I can't
believe their suspicions are well
founded. Still . . . Things do
seem to hnppen at Hoot Owl. Mr.
Brandon’s explanation of the Are
and dynamiting is that you made
an enemy of Bull Duval and his
friends, and that they are striking
back for spite. That sounds rea
sonable, doesn’t It?”
“Yes," said Ben, unwilling to ar
gue any such point with her.
At this Juncture Aunt Em came
In with food that was surpassingly
flne and for an hour they sat and
talked while darkness fell.
Ben was rising to go when the
doorbell rang. Aunt Em went to
answer the summons, nnd as a
man’s voice sounded In the hallway
Dawn broke short what she had
started to say. A moment later
Nicholas Brandon entered the room.
The man’s face, as he crossed the
threshold nnd saw Ben, was <a
study. Lights flickered In his bJack
eyes, a faint flush whipped up over
his dead white cheeks and he
opened his lips as In a gusp of sur
prise or else preparatory to sharp
speech.
But he gathered himself on the
Instant, moved directly to Dawn
and with an even, kindly tone
greeted her.
The girl turned as Brandon still
held her hand and Ben thought she
was moving it gently for release.
“Mr. Elliott, I think you must
know Mr. Brandon.” Ben bowed, a
bit stiffly.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes. I met him
once."
Then Nicholas Brandon did an
amazing thing, which went far In
explaining Dawn’s skepticism of
the town’s attitude toward him fo
Elliott. lie laughed. He laughed
easily, naturally, and In the laugh
ter was an admission of embarrass
ment which rang true.
•Indeed we have! Under different
circumstances! How are you to
day, Elliott?" He advanced and ex
tended his hand, still smiling, and
Ben was so amazed that mechan
ically he accepted It. "Yes, we'vfc
met before,’’—turning to Dawn aud
Aunt Em—“under quite distressing
circumstances, We met on un
friendly ground, and both lost our
heads a littl*. I hope Mr. Eliott
doesn’t harbor any resentment As
far as I’m concerned. I’ve only re
gret for the affair!”
lie smiled at Dawn and then at
Ben, and for the t>fe of him Elliott
could think of nothing adequate to
say for an instant. When he did
speak, he said levelly:
“In a lady’s house the only thing
to do is to reply In kind. Isn’t that
true?’
The other bowed slightly, but ill*
eyes did not meet Elliott’s.’
"I'm glad you are so generous,”
he said, and probably only Ben
caught I he mockery in the tone.
“Am I too Inte for tea, Dawn?"
Aunt Em. standing In the door
way, watched this with grimly set
lips. Dawn replied that Brandon
was only just In time and Ben,
picking up his cap and coat, pre
pared to go.
"You were talking of dances,” he
said to Dawn. ‘‘There’s one on the
cards for Saturday night. I’m told.
Would you mind going wdth a mere
employee?"
(TO OU CONTINUED.)
Hard and Soft Wood*
Some hardwoods are softer tliaa
some so-called softwoods.
Simple Motif in
Bedspread Design
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Some need lew orkers hesitate when
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This model Is worked In cream, rose
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and then figure how ninny squares It
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squares, and the little material re
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squares may he set together point to
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Tills Is one of the thirty motifs
shown In book No. 27. all Illustrated
with Instructions, and will he sent to
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The use of these motifs Is not lim
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iiselu) nrticles can he crooheted.
Address — HOME CHAFT CO.—
DEPT. It—Nineteenth and St. Louis
Ave.—St. Louis, Mo.
Inclose a stamped addressed en
velope for reply when writing for
any Information.
Chemists Seek Means of
Slowing Down Oxidation
Oxygen, which gives us life, Is
nlso man's grentest Industrial ene
my, notes a writer In the Montreal
Herald. The air we breathe con
tains one-fifth oxygen, and this gas
Is a highly corrosive substance.
When a house burns down It Is
simply combining with the oxygen
In the air. When sonp turns hrown
on a chemist’s shelf It Is merely an
other instance of the corrosive qual
ity of oxygen. But it Is the motor
Industry thnt suffers most from the
ravages of oxidation. Its two chief
organic essentials, rubber and pet
rol, are especially susceptible. Thou
sands of pounds worth of these ma
terials have been utterly wasted
owing to the action of air—ant
now the scientists have struck back.
They have been experimenting with
the development of substances
known as anti oxidants These com
pounds when mixed with any prod
uct, slow down oxidation to such an
extent that Its usefulness and life
are Increased tenfold.
Scientific Oddities
Itecemly two very important
scientific discoveries have been made.
One is that under the state of Mon
tana ties a vast glacier composed
of various gases, which have formed
a natural refrigerating agent and
frozen an underground lake. Tin*
other is that, suspended sixty miles
above the North polar regions, Is a
canopy of ice particles. French
physicists who visited Greenland
say that It is the cause of many vio
lent thunderstorms. In contrast to
these is the huge subterranean fire
which rages beneath a mountain In
the stale of Colorado. It started In
a coal hod years ago, and |>erlodi
cally, as the mountain Is eaten
away, It slips down till now it Is
100 feet lower than It was ten
years ago.—London Tlt-IMts.
BEAUTY REGIME
MUST BE RIGID
TO GET RESULTS
Failure to practice them regular
ly is one of the reasons, a good many
women seem never to get the most
good out of their beauty routines.
If you do your exercises once a week
instead of every day you can’t ex
pect to see a rapid Improvement in
your figure.
Drinking eight glasses of water
only one day out of the month isn’t
going to keep your complexion clenr
and smooth, and dieting three days
a week and then stuffing yourself
with sweets and starches the other
four won’t make you lose weight.
If you renlly are serious about keep
ing 'your skin, hair and figure lovely
through the years you simply must
stick by whatever rules you have
made.
The same general idea applies to
use of cosmetic preparations, too.
One innsk won’t clenr up a muddy
complexion, but If you use n mask
on a certain day each week for six
months you will see an improve
ment.
If you are trying to get rid of fine
lines around your eyes apply eye
cream, muscle oil, tissue builder or
whatever, each nnd every night be
fore you go to bed. One applica
tion of anything Just won’t correct
defects that have accumulated over
a period of years.
You have to lenrn to pick the
right nids, use them properly and,
above all, consistently.
You should allow at least fifteen
minutes each morning for applica
tion of make-up; about hnlf an hour
nt night before you go to bed for
brushing, cleansing and creaming;
two hours one day a week for a visit
to a beauty shop or for thorough
skin nnd hair reconditioning treat
ments at home. The total is only
seven nnd one-quarter hours per
week—certainly not too much time
to devote to your personal nppear
nnce.—Alicia Mart, In the New York
World-Telegram.
* 31
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