Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 28, 1911)
MEYER COUNTED THE GIRLS Anow«r to OvwtlM Typical •f Life n the Countries of the Ortont. Thr Mg yctUk Sepptd ael flagged hetwe.-® the column* a* me sat aud talked Mem Sahib. mbs yu bom fe *te amid Georgian and Or ■m* «ut dignitaries and ms bad a hap py mar w:fk Orbital prince*. took us all back by suddenly a sitting 'be good gray prince Mow many brothers be had Hi* bigtae** looked at her with ‘ a awerr little air.ita. half tolerant, half amused, and began, with great 1 •hem 1 aerie u-nems. to count them on hi* Unger*, first of the right hand, j then of the !ef;. alter going once or | to - r round, be ha! «d. started again, j then stopped at i raid: 1 ana afraid I must ask lay secre tary Trie secretary replied, with dignity: ] Your l.*g ,;ce-» had a hundred and nineteen brother*!” Mem c-hib. not whir abashed, then j asked this good Oriental nobleman tw-ffttis* his sisters. He ms..led vety charmingly, raying: *1 am afraid ! do not know; we never counted th< «!“—Charlea John sum In the Atlantic Monthly. Beware Cheap Bt'ls An ruuutnaiioa of |«prr currency by Warren H. ilfittfk of Yale show ed I an average of <t»e hundred and forty two tfc- .sand bacteria lo the bill. ; Twet > one Lula were esamsned. acd • hB* aonr were relatively clean, car rying only a trifle of lourteen thou sand living thing . other* swarmed to the hgurr ut live hundred and eighty *!« thousand And. strange to say. the bacteria did not seem to swarm to -be fl.nfio Mils In t'-efereace to the SI td*M This shew* that it I* far healthier ta carry fi.nae bills about than it ts to tote II Mila Here is a valuable financial hint. — India's Garrison. India is e*rrl»cKi«-d by 319.000 men. ■ b . .. fsii u to ;.r a territory of l.TT^AW* Mjurr mites. — Asc ents Used Uigr.tnmg Rods. A» earir as Mb B. C. the ancients bad wbaervcd that iron rods had the power to a*ert tghtaing. TV T*erer'a fi' -i. rtr.iTT. re r*r-coated. r».I toW. •• ^ r iU •*»•«—. h. liver and U. e rU. IX» not gripe. trr.gat a m - • .‘nets are receiving the bertow* at’eclio* of the government at Brazil TWnr are . n.iat <i.»u't he fooled. Am. !■« Lena' >.:sgie llaiirr cigar. Sr. ( <Vd ra-h makes an escellent hot 1 weather rnmfurt --- ’... ...'... ~.^... —. ,| ARE YOU WORRIED abwt the unhealthy condition of your stomach, liver and bowels ? if so. you only make matters worse. Just yet a bottle of Hosteller’s i Stomach Bitters today and watch results. Your stomach will be toned and strengthened, your liver become active and bowels regular. . Then good health is yours. A tnal wifl convince you. $125 net per Acre frornCucumbsrs Mr. K. D. H udson.on bts farm in Neuces County in the Gulf Coast Texa* arid Lout* ana. average* $ 125.00an acre uet pront on his cucumbers. He planted ’ :em in February and marketed them in March. Thu* of it -eaoogfe profit in two cvmtti* to ■ «e mu pay tor the land aad to months >tl ■■ which to grow two other crop* Two as . three crops a year >* aoc unusual ia the G«H Comm Country of Tesas aad I waiai tur taw have twelve omtht of growth ssstter Msaiog twain fuse there ts oat di&cait Ant ass >tk ordinary intelligence cu atahe good m the Gall C *ss Country of Teaaa aad Lnemsi Thousands of men have left Uw mam Jh e* a d factories of the north So go down (here to lead aa inde (esbat mtafdmr Me They rajoy Deia; •haw tare bta* aad psling up their own law aoooaat feet* gaol u them Better look into this lamtgur Go eowa dtere this fail or win ter her act la.* tatnesegroaer* I hen you w I! tealire the Ug.ip:.urtumiieaopentDyou T tri|> tw nt hrwro will alone be worth Hi irW cust id going hacura.ua fares yia (h- hrwca. the 1 a aad thud Tueadavs of each ra at., out* the trip inexpensive Tbr h rr:o Liar* operate ^aiendtd. electric lc ad ail Seri trains ia'iy from Chicago, st uaa Kan*** City. 11. rm n^fci-n aad Ne» Orleaas Tiles- trains carry 'hr >ugh cam -daily, aad oa esc inm days. tCr .agti ; «»riw steeper to trie Gait Coast Country 3 Splendid Books FREE « »«■ fkt Mdd-C.'.i—01 CtftMirf u! Tc«*a». <MM Otl fUMT •#*» rr find aefli «• >‘t 4l»f ll»> firaade ' * -ejf an ! *m* wo Utiti • al h—ilfmii* rJk^r4 mtuvwttsf v rafy to fKH«Mt COMM TIN*/ 4fr omte like coaoir/ aad v tr%*m m* end U> Um» of bjr mru who . wr-e tr-m > . W«ie fur »»*.*- 51M -hiOfi O* It 1 NO A * v LAND & axutmswE £&UOm$ JOSEPfl VANCE ^^ILLUSTRATIONS BY 7&yMASK^ Cos*Y/?/c#r /y/a aric!//s joss/w yahcs SYNOPSIS. •lar-e't Coast, a young man of Now York City. m« «*t» Mot?:; las Black stork, who ' it*f i irn to a car . party. He accepts, although he <: lackstnck. the rea ng that I re in love with Kath * nr.** rtuixter Coast fails to convince her tkat *?!:«< k stock is unworthy of her f^ei At the party Coast meets two nara-d Dun.las and Van Tuyl. There :* a quarrel, and Blackstock shoots Van •' •-» n l Coast struggles to wrest the weaje.n from him. thus the police dis cover !i cm. Coast Is arrested for murder. H* s c«.p, ir t.-d. hut as he begins his sen 9 ‘ i—rderer ar.d kills himself. Coast be • t » free. hut Blackstock has married Km*! t rine Thaxter and tied. Coast pur a yacht and while sailing sees a r .an thrown from a distant boat. He res _ the fellow who Is named Appleyard. ♦ v arrive at a lonely Island, known as No Man's I.and. CHAPTER VI.—(Continued.) “Cleaning my pipe. Go on and sleep; your time's not up yet." "What's o'clock?" Appleyard mumbled something in coherent as he stepped out on deck; and Coast turned over and slept again It seemed hours later when he found himself abruptly wide awake, in a ! tremor of panic anxiety bred of a j fancy that a human voice had cried ! out in mortal terror, somewhere j within his hearing He started up. in- , formed by that sixth sense we call in- ! tution that conditions abroad the 1 Echo had changed radically since the last time he had fallen asleep: and it seemed no more than a second from 'he moment his eyes opened until he found himself in the cockpit, gaz lrg dazedly into the inscrutable heart of the fog. At first, in his confusion, he could see nothing amiss. The Echo was rid ing on a quiet tide and an even keel, with scarcely any perceptible motion. The encompassing darkness was in tense. unfathomable, profound: only j the forward light showed a dim halo j of yellow opalescence near the mast head. and the faint glow from the cabin lamp quivered on slowiv swirl ing convolutions of dense white va por, like smoke. The port and star board lights had been extinguished, as they should be when a vessel comes to anchor. What, then had Interrupted hie slumbers? He turned with a question shaping I on his lips. Appleyard was nowhere visible. Coast required some minutes before he was convinced of the fact of the little man’s disappearance. But the 1 cabin proved as empty as the cock pit, and the tender was gone The cabin chronometer chimed the hour of four in the morning. As the echoes died, as though they j had evoked the genius of that place, a strange and dreadful cry rent the silence, sounding shrill across the wa ters. yet as if coming from a great distance. CHAPTER VII. Some moments elapsed. Coast's every nerve and sense upon the rack. Though he heard It no more, still that cry rang In his head, and he could but wait, smitten dumb and motionless, feeling his chilled flesh crawl, en thralled by fearsome shapes con- | jured up by an Imagination striving vainly to account for what had hap pened—wait < It seemed) intermin ably: for what he hardly knew or guessed, unless It were for a repeti tion or some explanation of tha* In explicable cry. He received neither. His straining faculties detected none but familiar noises. Insensibly he grew more calm. So silent was the world, seemingly so saturated with the spirit of brooding peace, that he was tempted to be lieve he had dreamed that first shriek, to which he had wakened, and- that the second was but an echo of it in his brain: some hideous trick of nerves, a sort of waking hallucination. ;o be explained only on psychological grounds. And yet . . . Appleyard? What of him? Was there any connection to be traced be tween his mysterious disappearance from the Echo and that weird, un earthly scream? Was there really lard near, and had the little man found It only to become the victim of some frightful, nameless peril? Could that have been hi3 voice, calling for help . . -? And in what dread ex tremity . . .? There was nothing he could do. no way to reach the man. The tender was gone, the shore invisible—an8 who should say how far distant? Oth erwise he would not have hesitated to swim for it. Presently it occurred to him to won der where the Echo lay—off what land. "Appleyard's responses to his in quiries. several hours hack, returned to memory. The name. No Man's Uad. Intrigued. Ha interrupted his vigil to Investigate such sources of Jn fortnaticn ns he had at hand. In the oftin again, with site lamp t-med high, hp dragged cut a chart— j number 132 of the admirable series j published by the Coast and Geodetic j Purvey, delineating with wonderful ! accuracy the hydrography of Buz- j v-ard's Bay and Vineyard and Nan tucket Sounds, together with the topo graphy of the littoral and islands. With pencil It was easy to trace the I Echo's course from New Bedford har- i tor through Quirk's Hole; a little to | the east of which, say of Robinson's j Hole, the fog had overtaken them. To the south and east of that point lay Martha's Vineyard, for ail the world like a trussed fowl in profile. And there—yes. due south of Gay Head— was No Man's Land, its contour much that of an infant’s shoe, the heel dig ging into the Atlantic. Comparison with the scale demonstrated it to be roughly a mile and five-eighths long by a mile wide—extreme measurements. Ctflbt stared at it with renewed In terest. for the first time convinced of the existence of a spot so oddly named. A number of black dots along its northern shore seemed to indicate buildings—but Appleyard had distinct ly said "uninhabited." ('cast turned out the lamp and went back to the deck There was nothing to be seen, noth ing ta do. . . . He fidgeted. Then out of the confusion of his temper, in which ennui stalked in sin gular companionship with perturba tion. he chanced upon an odd end of thought, one of those stray bits of in formation. mostly culled from desul tory reading, that clutter the back of every man's brain. He happened to remember hearing, some time, some where, that fog rare ly clings to the surface of moving wa ter; that, by putting one's vision upon a plane almost horizontal with the water, it is ordinarily possible to see for some distance roundabout. “There may be something in it . . . No harm to try.” Forthwith he scrambled out upon the stern, from which, after some in tricate maneuvering and by dint of considerable physical ingenuity, he managed to iuspend himself, at peril of a ducking, with his head near the water “Good God!” He Cried Aloud. “What_” He was promptly justified of his pains; the theory proved itself—in that one instance at least; between the slowly undulant floor, glassy and colorless, and the ragged fringe of the mist curtail!, he discovered a definite space. Directly astern and, roughly, some forty feet away, a shelving stretch of pebbly beach, softly lapped by low voiced ripples, shut in the view. The Echo's tender, drawn up beyond the water's edge, bisected it. “Good,” said Coast, abstracted, re covering from his constrained posi tion. Curiosity gripped him strongly, cau tion contending vainly; he knew quite well that he would never bide content until he had probed for the cause and source and solved the mystery of that wild cry In the night just gone. Moreover, he felt in a measure re sponsible for Appleyard. Surely there must be some strange reason for his protracted absence. Abandoning himself, deaf to the counsels of prudence. Coast rose and stripped off his clothing. He let himself gently into the water (fearing to dive because he did not know its depth) and found it warm— warmer than the air. He struck out cautiously, using the slow, old-fash ioned but silent breast stroke. In two minutes, however, he was wading up to the beach. There was no sign of Appleyard: only the tender. Upon that stone strewn shore the feet of the run away had left no trail. Though Coast cast about in a wide radius, be found no sign of the missing man. The peb bles scratched and bruised his un protected feet, and he began to shiver with cold. Hd gave it up, presently. returned to the tender, pushed off and sculled out to the Echo. Then, having rubbed his flesh to a blush with a coarse towel, he dressed, took the small boat back to the beach, drew it up and. now fully committed to an enterprise the folly of which he stubbornly refused to debate, set off to reconnoiter along the water's edge, feeling his way. After a time the beach grew more sandy, and emboldened by the knowl edge that he would have his foot prints to guide him back, he left the water and struck inland—but only to find his progress In that direction checked by a steep wall of earth, a cliff-like bluff of height Indetermin able. its flanks wave-eaten and deeply seamed by rain. At random, with no design, he turned again to his left and proceeded as before, but now along the foot of the bluff, trudging heavily through i damp, yielding sand. Still no sign of Applevard. He must have tramped, at a rude j guess, several hundred yards before he discovered either a break in the bluff or any change in the general j configuration of the shore. Ultimate ! ly. however, the one fell away in J land and the other widened. A moment later he came upon a small catboat careened above high : tide mark, with a gaping wound in its starboard side, forward and below the water-line. She lay stern to the water. Taking the point of her stem as his guide. Coast turned Inland again, on a iine as straight as possible considering the slanting lay of the land and the Impossibility of seeing anything be yond a radius of a few feet He had not gone far upon this j tack before he stumbled upon a path i of hardpacked earth, obviously made ■ by human feet. Then he found him- i self mounting a rather steep grade, and in another moment was face to face with a plain weather-boarded wall of a wooden building. There were no windows that he could discover on this side, and though he listened keenly he heard no sounds from within. Other buildings presented them selves successively, as like as peas to one another and to the first he had encountered: all peopled exclusively by the seven howling devils of deso lation and their attendant court of rats—or so he surmised from sundry sounds of scurryings and squeaks. He gathered that he was threading a rude sort of street, fringed on one side—to seaward—with the abandoned dwellings of what had apparently been a small fishing community. “No Man's Land indeed!" he com mented. “Certainly lives up to the name, even if it’s some place else, it begins to look as if I’d drawn a blank. . . . But Appleyard . . .?" He was moved vaguely to liken the place to the Cold Liars of tie Jungle Books. “Only infinitely sordid.” he mused, at pause: “lacking the maj esty and the horror . . . Wonder had I better go back?” As he hung in the wind, debating what to do. whether to press on or to be sensible, swayed this way and that by doubts and half formed im- j pulses, somewhere near, seemingly at his very elbow, certainly not twenty feet away, suddenly a dog howled, j Long drawn, lugubrious with a note of 1 lamentation, the sound struck discor dant upon his overtaut senses, shock- ' ing him (before he knew it) to out- ; spoken protest. “Good God!” he criad aloud. 1 "What—?" ITO BE CONTINUED.) Tragedy of a Tomato Vine _ .a* Practical Person Makes Discovery After Neighbors Had Given Voice to Their Wonderment. Now doth the amateur agriculturist Sourish and was proud at bis Luther Burbank achievements, says the Brooklyn Eagle. One such nursed a lone tomato plant from delicate and sickly infancy to robust maturity. With all a mother’s tender care be ministered to that plant He watered it. brushed the dust off It pleaded with It. encouraging It to better things. Then one day a member of the family rushed into the house with glad tid ings. There was a real tomato on the vine. What an assemblage there was about that plant! The block was de populated temporarily. Amateur ag riculturists climbed on each other's necks to view the wonder. The head of the house inspected it through a magnifying glass. His spouse clapped I her hands and exclaimed: “At last we shall have our own salad from our i own vine.” Even the watchman from a row of empty houses nearby was called to look, and he remarked sol emnly that he "never saw such a large tomato on such a small vine." Then came along one of those hor ribly practical persons, who said it couldn’t be. and had to have a closer look. He spoiled it all by his discov ery that the tomato had been tied on with a string, and if yon want to know who tied it on ask the woman who lives next door. FORMER MIDDLEWEIGHT CHAMPION RETIRES Billy Papke. Billy Papke, former middleweight champion, who recently was defeated by Bob Moha in Boston, said the oth er night he had retired from the ring. ‘ Training is hard work for me now and it Used to be play." said Pap ke. "I haven’t the ambition that I used to have, and so I'm through with the game. I am comfortably fixed and ! never will need to worry about money, ; so I'm going to forget about fighting." Left Hander is Safe. Jones—A left handed golfer has a ' big advantage. Smith—How do you figure that out? Jones—Xo one asks to borrow his j clubs. LIST OF INJURED DECREASED1 _ Nine Dead and 177 Players Hurt Is the Toil Footfall Has Collected During the 1911 Season. Nine dead and 177 Injured players is the toll football has collected from the gridirons of the country during the 1911 season. The disciples of reform in the game consider the comparatively few deaths and the large decrease in injuries from 1910 a vindication of America’s most strenuous sport. With but one exception. 1901, when seven players were killed, have there been a fewer number of fatalities in eleven years. This season’s sacrifice of life stands out in hopeful contrast to that of 1910. when twenty-two fa talities were recorded and the list of injured contained 499 names. The small number of fatalities this season may be consoidered by some yet disputed by others, as a partial tribute to the wisdom of the rulema kers who in 1909 revised the gridiron code in hopes of eliminating the chances for serious injury, so numer ous in the old style game which en couraged line plunging and close for mations. The table given below explains it self: 1911. Killed . 9 Injured .277 Fractured legs and ankles.22 Sprained ankles . 19 Kicked on head. W Fractured shoulders . 7 Major dislocations . 7 Fractured ribs . 7 Broken noses . 6 Broken hands and wrists. 6 Facial injuries and cuts on head. 6 Spinal injuries . 5 Fractured collar bones.. 4 Broken arms . 4 Broken Jaws . 3 Internal Injuries . 3 Fractured skulls . I Fractured hips . 1 Minor sprains, wrenches and muscle bruises . 63 Eleven-Year Record. Killed. Injured. 1901 . 7 74 190S .15 106 1903 ...14 63 1904 .14 376 1905 . 24 200 1906 .14 160 1907 .15 166 190S .11 304 1909 . 30 216 1910 . 22 499 1911 .9 177 Out on Three Fouls. These daffydills are from “Learn ing the Game,” the vaudeville sketch in which “Big Chief" Bender, "Jack" Coombs and "Cy” Morgan, all mem bers of the Philadelphia Athletics, are making their debut as actors at Ham merstein's. If Connie Mack had a Lapp start would he Ty Cobb? Well, Connie cannot, but he can make Innes. If Jack Coombs bought a pony, and couldn't break it, could Morgan Bender? If Eddie Collins was dry and want ed a drink would Rube Oldring? Phillies Have Many Players. Over seventy players are under con tract with the Phillies for next year, but it is reported only fifty will be taken on the spring training trip. All of the full squad of seventy-five with the exception, of the thirty-five who will be held for the season, will be disposed of before the opening game next year. New York cyclers are practicing for the Olympic games. A mighty good thing not to watch Is a three cushion billiard game. Frank Baker of the Athletics will open a sporting goods store in Phllly. HaAy Davis. Cleveland's new man ager. will soon be actively on the job. American Olympic games commit tee has appealed for funds to send a crack team to Stockholm. Two things a “kid" ought to learn early: To fence and play golf. Every thing else will come by itself. “No, footballs are not made of pig skin. The little animal from which we get our veal, the calf, is the great college benefactor. Don’t know where this ‘pig tale’ started.” WHAT MAKES A PRIZE FIGHT? Tommy Ryan Says It Is Scientific Ex hibition of Art of Attack and Self-Defense. Xo matter where glove contests are permitted in this country the question arises. “What is the difference be tween boxing and prize fighting?” Several attempts have been made to draw the line in the courts and in some instances promoters have se cured decisions in their favor. The most recent champion of sci entific boxing is Tommy Ryan of Tommy Ryan. Syracuse, who held the middle-weight title after Bob Fitzsimmons relin quished it. Ryan is a close student of fistiana and is able to give an in telligent argument in its favor. The other day he was quoted in this man ner: “The question has often been put to me. *\Vhat is a prize fight if it isn’t brutal?’ Other persons want to know why the boxers pull and haul, hit in the clinches, and so forth, or why a man will strike his opponent when the latter apparently is only half off the floor. Still others want to know why the boxers shake hands at the start and at the end of a bout and what is the sensation when a man is floored or knocked out. “First of all. I would say that there is no such a thing as a prize fight. That word is a misnomer. Thirty or forty years ago it was different, for in those days men fought with the bare knuckles, and the sport was brutal, but the name ’prize fight’ has stuck to the present day, and what some people persist in calling a ’prize fight' is nothing more or less than a scien j tific exhibition of the art of attack j and self-defense, and of the same na- j ture as any other exhibition of sport which is won by endurance and skill. The exhibitions are not brutal. "Boxers pull, haul and hit in clinches because some of them have become accustomed to what is known as ’infighting’ and they are a great deal better when boxing close to their opponents than in sparring at long range. They try to tire out their op ponents by the pulling and hauling, which is quite scientific in its way and by no means as rough as it appears. It is often the style of some boxers to win this way. Sometimes acci dents will happen in infighting, as they will in any sport.” Keene to Quit Racing. James R. Keene, vice chairman of the Jockey Club, his decided to retire from the turf—that is. so far as rac ing thoroughbreds is concerned. This announcement was made by Algernon Daingerfield in saying that eight horses which have raced in Mr. Keene's name in England this year would be sold under the hammer at Newmarket the first week in Decem ber. His horses in training in this coun try had all been disposed of previous ly. so that, except for his breeding farm in Kentucky and the one abroad, Mr. Keene will not be known to the turf. Poor health is given as tbe rea son for his retirement. Pugilist Gardner Retires. Oscar Gardner, the retired pugilist, better known as “the Omaha Kid," has left Minneapolis and will locate in Vancouver, Wash. Gardner proposes to take an active part in athletics in Vancouver, and has already been offer ed a positoin as boxing instructor at the Columbus A. C. SPRINGS NEW SCHEME President Murphy Has Plan for Training Ball Players. Cub Magnate Says Fulfillment of His Purpose Would Develop Many Un known Stars—Would Revolu tionize Present Ideas. Charles W. Murphy, president of the Chicago Cubs, today is shining in a brand new role as an inventor. The Cub chief divulged a scheme which may revolutionize spring training trips of major baseball leagues. lie has proposed the organization of a "win ter league" to train drafted and pur chased players for their debut in high er society. This league would be composed of towns in Florida where baseball can be played the year around. The cir cuit will be composed of eight towns in Florida. The following places have been proposed for the new training camps of the big league clubs: Key West, Pensacola, Tampa, Miami, Or mond, Palm Beach, St. Augustine and | Sarasota. These towns are winter resorts to which people of means flock when the snow begins to fly in the northern states. They are amply populated to give splmdid support to teams sched uled for the proposed circuit. President Murphy, in defining plans for this winter league, said he would recommend that it be composed of players who had not been members of a major league club for more than three months. All teams of the Na tional and American leagues would be eligible to send players drafted or pur chased to these towns for the "trying out" process. It would do more to ward show ing the real class of a play er, he thinks, than a training trip could possibly accomplish. Thanksgiving, Christmas and Newr Year could be reserved each season for games with major league clubs, the Cub chief thinks, and these games would prove in time the leading sport ing events of the winter calendar. Advocates of a substitute for the present methods of training the raw material for big league consumption are increasing each year. Just how many adherents of this scheme Mur phy can marshal for the movement is doubtful. “The case of Charles Moore, an in fielder, who came as a recruit from the Pacific Coast league to the Cincinnati club last spring, only illustrates the injustice of the present method,” said the Cub head. “Moore was with the Cincinnati club just two days when he was re turned to the Los Angeles club. He proved a bright star on that club from the jump. Was he given a chance to show what he had to deliver? I should say not. The Cincinnati club saw its mistake and wanted him back this season. "They were.too late. I had secured the youngster through draft. He will be with the Cubs next season. If there had been a "winter league" of purchased and drafted players in ex istence last year, do you suppose Moore would have been out on the coast in 1911. I think not. He is only one of many players of major size wuo aren't given a chance under the present crude system in vogue for 'trying out’ young material.” ST. PAUL SELLS CHAS. CHECH Former Pitcher for American Associa tion Team Is Disposed of to Los Angeles Club. Pitcher Charles Chech for several years a member of the St Paul Amer Charles Chech. ican Association Baseball club, has been sold to the Los Angeles club ot the Pacific league. Quits as Cub Scout. Charley Murphy, president of the Cubs, learned that* his old enemy, Han Johnson, had signed George Huff to scout for the American league. Huff is the most successful major league scout He has been on the Cub pay roll for several years, and helped to build up the great Cub machine. Huff is athletic director of the University of Illinois when he isn't in baseball. Huff will be assigned to a cleb that is badly in need of new material, Moakley Will Stick to Cornell. Jack Moakley, coach of- the Cornell university track and cross-country athletics, has signed a five-year con tract with Cornell University Athletic association to continue in that ca pacity. Moakley went to Ithaca. N. Y., in 1899 and signed at that time, and has had remarkable success, hav ing turned out 11 intercollegiate cross country championship teams and four track teams that have won the inter collegiate track meet since 1905.
