pWEB OF STEEL Ey CYRUU^D BRADY ]
Here Is a Powerful Story of Failure and Sacrifice and Love and Courage and Success
Copyright by Fleming H. Revell Co.
CHAPTER XVI —Continued.
—10—
Colonel Illlngv.ortli had dismissed
kleade from his mind luitnisc lie haled
him. Helen Illingworth refrained
from talking a!*<mt him to her fattier
because stir Ions I him. So they were
never m each other's presence without
thinking of the man. This was a
source of great irritation to the father.
On occasion he almost found himself
at the |««nt of shouting at his daugh
ter to talk nlsHl! him. And that she so
carefully avoided ihe subject and as
the avoidance was so obviously in ac
cordance with his own wish, the re
straint irritated him the more. The
fact that they Isith sought so mrefully
to maintain the old relationship made
it more im|>oasihle. Kor relationships
which are primarily founded on love
cannot be maintained by constraint
without the wi-akening of the great
force uj«-n which their tenure had pre
viously drficnded. There is nothing
like o«o<-calment to impair and weak
en a tie unless it lie a ban 1 i'rohilii
tionx rarely prohibit.
Still there remained a deep :tn<l abid
ing affection between father and
daughter and they managed somehow
to ge- along outwardly much as l>efore.
Indeed ('«!<<ttei lllmgwortli was more
kind and considerate limit ever to his
daughter and she repaid him with
more than usual care ami devotion.
The very fact that she seemed to have
accepted the situation and obeyed the
law be had laid down gave him some
compunctious of conscience. On that
account, perhaps, lie had been the more
willing to accede to her request to take
Shurtliff into his employ, in no way
was Shurtliff responsible for the fail
ure of the bridge or for any mistake
In the calculations of the M. ados, and
Shurtliff was an invaluable man, not
only for an engineer but for the presi
dent of the Martlet liridge company.
He was familiar with the subjects
that Col'-uri Illingworth discussed anil
wrote about. He was intelligent and
reliable to the last degree, his reputa
tion for steadiness and discretion un
questioned. and he was marvelously ef
ficient in hi' sutw.rdinate i-osition. The
colonel having first tried him out. had
advanced him rapidly after learning
hi* worth. He was now his private
secretary. Shurtliff Ixdng an old bach
elor without kith or kin. and not orig
inally f* >nd of women, found himself
suddenly in touch with one of the
awee'est and kindest, as well as the
youngest and most beautiful of a sex
about which he knew nothing.
His new position naturally brought
him into rloae touch with the colonel.
The old man transacted a good deal
of his tuistne** in his own house.
Shurtliff w-as frequently there. Under
other circumstance* H-len Illingworth
would have treated him with that fine
and gracious < ■ tirtesy whi h she ex
tended to everyone with whom she
came in contact, but she would not
have especially Interested herself in
him. She would not have made him
the object of the delicate attention and
given him the careful consideration
wrhlch would have completely turned
the h*-ad of a younger and more sus
ceptible man.
There had been a prejudice in Shurt
tl^» mind arainst women in general,
and Helen Illingworth In particular.
He bad quickly realized that she above
all person* had the greatest interest
la disproving Meade's statement and
hi* own and la laying the blame for
the failure of the bridge where if be
longed. on the shoulder* of the patron
to love whom bad t»*en the habit of his
Ufe. Therefore the old secretary was
constantly on his guard lest he be
tr»p|e-d Into admissions or actions
which ought he used to discredit the
older Meade and convict the two con
•pirator*.
But Helen Illingworth was far too
clover to allow any inkling of such u
design to :i|>j<ear. Not the remotest
hint *>f such a |'Un*>s-- did slie betray.
She deliberately set about to win the
old man s r< gard ami re*pe.-t and i»-r
liaje. eventually hi* affection. She had
the i.r J -r : g of her father's household,
of «-i That was a matter in which
the cneerned himself not at
all ag as things went smoothly,
a* i •> always <tid. He was a little
a«’e; w-d nt her treatment of Shurt
llff. but the <.hl secretary was at heart
a genti' i.i. a and there was no reason
why. if Helen rfcosr to inelude him
umong h.-r friends and invite him to
dinner and otherwise make him wel
con.- in u. house, she should not do
s» And in . dry. precise way Shtirt
Ilff wai» fulle r likable. He was touched
and iiatt."*-d by her kiudiK-ss. anil in
spite of his suspicions, which gradu
ally grew *es«, by the way. lie exerted
hitnaeif to show las appreciation and
to bear himself seemingly In his new
Ufe.
Colonel Illingworth had no suspi
cions whatsoever that there hud been
any conspiracy to suppress the truth
and shift the blame. True. Ins daugh
ter had prwlewted on ihai fatal day
that she did not lieliev.- Meade and
hhurtllff. but that was in tbe excite
ment of she monieut and understand
able In view of her plighted troth.
Helen had never discussed that with
lata; even the very name of the engt
peer being banned she was -dent. She
to wise enougli not to try to worry
or bother her father with arguments
on that point, to which, of course, he
Would not have listened in any event.
Accordingly the conferences with
fUidney had never been brought to hi.
notice. There was no use stirring up
trouble and strife. There was no ueces
ait) even to diem** it with her futhei
an!ii she had found more proof. Si
hr at hast had no suspicious as to hei
tg.wtm.-nt of Shurtllff. He ow'd "o'
>r.. ujty ,-ud to be gained and therefor*
*e Jaa-is.l to the conclusion that then
lu course of time, as Miss Illing
worth never referred to Meade in the
secretary's presence, all his mistrust
disappeared. Finally he even brought
up the subject of Meade's whereabouts
of his own motion. Although the girl
was fairly wild to talk and ask ques
tions she hud wit and resolution
enough to change the subject when it
hud been first broached and for many
times thereafter.
Helen Illingworth was fighting for
! the reputation of the man she loved
i and for her own happiness, and she
' was resolved to neglect no point in the
game. She partook in a large measure
I of her father’s capacity, but she add
ed to bis somewhat blunt and mili
tary way of doing things the infinite
tact of woman, stimulated by a grow
! ing. overwhelming devotion to her ab
sent lover. She cherished that feeling
for him in any event and would have
done so but the whole situation was so
[ charged with mystery and surcharged
| with romance that it made the most
| iwwerful and stimulating appeal to
j her.
She lived to vindicate Blende and
'he bent every effort toward that end.
She did not overdo it, either. Final
ly. as he himself continued to press
The Old Man Got to Thinking of Her
as a Daughter.
! the* subject upon her. she made no sc
i eret to ShurtlifT of her devotion to the
younger Meade, her sorrow that he had
made such a declaration, and her de
i termination to wait for him. She was ;
always careful to end every conversa
tion by saying that she knew her out
i look was perfectly hopeless and that
coniil expect nothing except sor
; row until the younger Meade was re
i nahllltated. She so contrived matters,
while constantly affirming her feeling
I for Meade, as to let ShurtlifT infer
that she was convinced that he had
been telling the truth in what he had
: said.
After a time she deftly appealed to
him to know if he could not help tier
j discover the truth she tactfully main
tained even in face of the evidence that
ShurtlifT had given. And she did this
in such an adroit way that ShurtlilT
became convinced that she did not con
nect him with any willful deception,
and that she believed that he was de
luded himself anil occupied the posi
tion of an innocent abettor. And Shurt
j lifT. in his strange, old. self-contained
way. finally grew to like Helen Illing
worth exceedingly. Indeed he started
in his work with natural antagonism
to Colonel Illingworth, and when he
sensed, as he very soon did. the dif
ference that had arisen between father
and daughter, lie espoused the cause of
‘ the latter. He was the kind of a man
who had to devote himself to some
body. He began to wonder if there
was any way to secure the girl’s hap
piness without betraying the elder
Meade.
She compassed the secretary, who
was, of course, old enough to be her
father, with sweet observances and he
found it increasingly hard to keep true
io his falsehood. Now she was cap
able of fascinating bigger personalities
than ShurtlifT, although she cared lit
tle for that power and rarely exercised
it. The old man actually got to think
ing of her as a daughter. Sometimes
when they had an hour together he
found himself seconding her arguments
for the iiujoeence of the younger
Meade, for she had progressed that far
by now. with little details which his
knowledge and experience of the two
men could supply. Trifling in them
selves as were these contributions, as
Itodney pointed out when siie repeated
them to him. they nevertheless added
something to tile cumulative force of
| the argument so laboriously built up
by the friend and woman. And they
were decidedly indicative of a growing
; mental condition on the part of Shurt
! lift' from which much might he honed
' and expected.
But Shurtliff could act bring him
, -self to come out boldly and coulees,
j and his failure to do that made him
more and more miserable. At lirst his
eoiiscieuce hud been entirely clear. He
had viewed his conduct in the light of
a noble sacrifice for the great man.
Now he began to question: Was it
right to blast the future of the living
for the sake of the fame of the dead?
Probably he would have questioned
that eventually without regard to
Helen Illingworth, but when he began
j to grow fond of the woman and when
he realized, as she unmistakably dis
closed it to him, that her own happi
ness was engaged and that he was not
only ruining the career of a man but
wrecking the life and crushing the
heart of an entirely innocent woman,
I ho ho H o /utnetnnt hnttla rntrol u-Uh
_ Oprmany.
himself to pursue his course anil to
keep silent.
Yet such is the character of a tem
perament like that of Shurtliff, nar
rowed and contracted by a single pas
sion of life and lacking the breadth
which comes from intercourse with
men and women, that his compunctions
of conscience only made him the more
resolved. The lonely, heart-broken old
man swore that he would never tell.
Tlie young man could go his own gait
and work out his own salvation, or be
damned, if lie must. The woman's
heart might break, pitiful as that
would lie. but he would never tell. He
was as unhappy in that determination
as any other man lighting against his
conscience must inevitably be.
Sometimes looking at the misery in
the old man’s face (for on his counte
nance his heart wrote his secret),
Helen Illingworth experienced com
punctions of conscience of her own,
which she told to Rodney in default
of other confessor. That fine young
man appreciated fully the woman’s
feelings and understood her keen sen
sibilities. and his comprehension was a
great coinfort to her. He encouraged
her to persevere. Since it was only
through Shurtliff that the truth could
he established, she must not falter
nor reject any fair and reasonable
means to gain his whole confidence
and make him speak. It was, after
all, simply a question of whether the
game was worth the candle. How best
could they expose or tight si deceit?
And that the deception was for a noble
purpose and to serve a laudable end in
tlie minds of the deceivers did not
alter that fact.
"You arc doing nothing in the least
degree dishonorable. Miss Illingworth,”
said Rodney, reassuringly. “Woman’s
wiles have been her weapons since
tlie Stone Age."
“But I do feel compunctions of con
science occasionally.”
"Personally I think you are abunt
antly justified,” urged Rodney.
“Yes, to establish the truth, to give
tlie man I love his good name would
justify more than this.” she replied,
“and yet”—she smiled faintly—“my
conscience does hurt me a little. The
old man is beginning to love me.”
“That's the reason it hurts you,” said
Rodney. “When he loves you enough
he will do anything you want, as I
would—”
The young man stopped, looked long
at her. and then turned away with a lit
tle gesture of—was it appeal or re
nunciation? He was too loyal to his
friend to speak, hut he could not con
trol everything. The tone of his voice,
the look in his eyes, his quick avoid
ance of her. told the woman a little
story. They had been very closely as
sociated, these two. Rodney also had
not had much advantage of woman’s
society, certainly not of a woman like
Helen Illingworth. She had given him
her full confidence in the Intimacy.
He was a man. He loved like others.
She was too fond of him. too great,
too true a woman to pretend.
“Mr. Rodney,” said the girl, laying
her hand on his arm as though to re
strain him. "that way madness lies.”
“Miss Illingworth,” said Rodney,
turning and facing her. his lips firm
ly compressed, his eyes shining. “I'm
devoted to Bert Meade and to you”—
he lifted her hnml from his arm and
kissed it—“and I'm going to do every
thing for your happiness.”
Brave words and he said them more
bravely.
“I understand.” said the woman,
“and I honor you for your loyalty to
your friend and your devotion to me.
I.oyalty is not always the easiest
thing on earth. I know.”
“You make it easy for me because
you understand.”
So the fall and winter were filled
with interest to Helen Illingworth and
there was in her days no lack of hope.
Every Saturday the flowers that Meade
had arranged for spoke words of love
to her and bade her not forget, al
though that was admonition she did
not need.
That was the only message that she
received from her lover. He had
dropped out of sight completely. They
caused search to be made for him.
sought tidings of him in every possible
way. but in vain. Her heart almost
broke sometimes at the separation. Site
had confidence enough in her power
over him. and in her woman's wit, to
feel that if she had only another op
portunity she might learn the truth,
force it from him. constrain him co teli
it, because she loved him!
CHAPTER XVII.
Once More Unto the Work.
The Martlet Bridge company had
finally Weathered the storm, although
it was, of course, not intrusted with
the new International bridge which was
about to be commenced. When Ber
tram Meade read of the new undertak
ing, it cut him to the heart. This
time there would be no mistake. In
the necessity of recouping Its fortunes,
i the Martlet Bridge company entered
upon an even wider career. The direc
tors took contracts which they had
hitherto disdained because they were
comparatively unimportant, and they
hid on operations which they had
hitherto left to competitors. They were
building the great steel viaduct by the
town of Coronado below the dam, and
they had already built the splendid
steel arch that spanned the ravine,
here almost a gorge, in the valley of
the Kicking Horse to the eastward of
the big mesa.
After Christmas, Colonel Illingworth
decided to make another of his tours of
inspection, and as Helen was not look
ing particularly well from the strain
under which she was laboring, he of
fered to take her with him, especially
as he was going to the far Southwest,
where the weather would be mild and
pleasant, to inspect the crowincr via
duct and the completed arch. She
gladly availed herself of the permis
sion. There was always a possibility,
albeit a most remote one, that she
might hear of Meade. That it might he
well to invite a representative of The
Engineering News, to wit, Rodney, to
accompany them, so that the really
splendid work the Martlet company
was doing might be made widely
known. The party consisted of the
father and daughter. Curtiss, the chief
engineer. Doctor Severence, the vice
president and financial man, and Rod
uey.
Now Helen Illingworth had not the
least reason in the world to suspect
that Bertram Meade was in any way
connected with this engineering proj
ect, hut Rodney had pointed out and
had imbued her with his own belief
that sooner or biter, when Meade was
found, he would be found engaged in
engineering in some capacity.
“It’s in his blood." said Rodney. “He
can no more keep away from It than
he can stop breathing. He can’t do
anything else. Somewhere lie's at the
old job. It might be in America, and
it might be out there at Coronado, or
it might be in South America, Europe,
Asia, or—’’
“I wonder if we can’t find out all the
engineering work that is being done in
the world and send representatives to
seek him,” said Helen Illingworth.
Rodney laughed.
“To hunt that way would be like
hunting a needle in a haystack. I can
not bid you hope that he is there; in
fact, I think it is most unlikely that
he would be any place near where the
Martlet people are operating, but
there’s a chance, even if only the faint
est one.”
Well, women's hearts can build a
great deal on a faint ehnnce. They are
calculated for the forlorn hope. And
so Helen Illingworth stood on the steps
of the private car as it rolled across
the mile-long temporary bridge at Coro
nado, nnd scanned the workmen
grouped on one side of the track, their
work suspended for n moment that the
train might pass on the wooden tres
tling. in hope that she could see in
one of them the man she loved and
sought. And Rodney stood by her side,
equally interested, searching the crowd
with his glance, also.
There was nothing in the town to at
tract Helen out of the car. She had
visited West and Southwest many
times. Colonel Illingworth, with Rod
ney and Severance, there left the train.
Miss Illingworth decided to go into the
hills and get away from the arid and
heated plains. A siding had been built
near the steel arch under the slope of
the hill from which the huge mesa
arose, within two miles of the dam,
and the car was to be placed there.
The men left behind would use the pri
vate car of the division superintendent
of the railroad when they had ended
their several tasks.
It had been raining dismally during
the afternoon, and when the car was
detached and switched to the siding
and left up in the hills some twenty
miles from the town, it was too wet
and uncomfortable to leave it. Dis
regarding the downpour, however, Cur
tiss, who had come up with it, made
a very careful investigation of the
completed bridge, which more than
surpassed his expectations in its ap
pearance of sturdy grace, as well as
In the evidences of careful workman
ship in its erection.
That evening the special engine
pushed the other private car up from
the valley, bringing the people who
had inspected the bridge. A few more
weeks would complete the great via
duct. Everything was proceeding in
the most satisfactory way and Colonel
Illingworth was very much elated over
the situation.
“Who would have thought,” he said
as they sal down to dinner in the
brightly lighted observation room,
“that it would rain in this country at
this season of the year?"
“It will probably be over by tomor
row morning,” observed Rodney.
“If it continued long enough and
rained hard enough, that dam would
1 Helen Illingworth Stood on the Steps
of the Private Car.
have to be looked after. We'll go ove
and see it tomorrow,” said the colonel
cheerfully.
“What would happen if it gave
way?” asked liis daughter.
”It would Hood the valley, sweep
away the town, and—” he paused.
“Well, father?"
“lluin the bridge.”
“We can’t afford to have another
failure after the International,” said
Severence.
! table, a big rancher named Winters
whom Rodney had met in the towr
and had introduced to Colonel Illing
worth: The latter had Invited him tc
dinner and to stay the night in tin
extra sleeper, and Winters, who had
particular reasons for wanting to talk
with Rodney and to meet Miss Illing
worth. had accepted.
“You can count on its stopping.” ht
said at last. “My ranch is a hundred
miles to the north of here. I heard
Rodney was with your party, and as
he was an old classmate of mine—in
fact, my best friend at Harvard along
with Bert Meade"—and the mention of
the forbidden name caused quick
glances to be passed around the table,
but raised no comment—“the chance of
seeing him brought me down here. 1
know the weather along this whole
section of the country; it’s the dryest
place on earth, and 1 would almost of
fer to swallow all the rain that will
fall after this storm spends itself.”
“Well, that's good," said Curtiss, “be
cause I’ve heard that the dam lacks
very little of completion, but that the
spillway has been delayed.”
“You’ll find that the storm has bro
ken in the morning,” said Winters con
fidently.
After dinner Colonel Illingworth, de
sirous of talking business, called the
men of the party, except Rodney and
Winters, back into the observation
room of the other car, leaving the two
men with Helen.
“Mr. ShurtlifT," said Helen, as the
men stepped out on the platform, the
secretary following, since his employer
had intimated his services might be
needed, “if you can, I wish you would
cotne back here as soon as possible.”
“Certainly, Miss Illingworth,” said
the secretary, “immediately, if your
father finds that he does not need me.”
“Rod,” said Winters when they were
alone, “I'd go a long way to see you,
but I might as well be frank. I did
not come down these hundred miles,
leaving my ranch in the dead of winter
with all its possibilities of mishap to
the cattle, simply to see you, or even
Miss Illingworth here, although she is
worth it,” he went on with the frank
bluntness of a western man.
“Of course you didn't," said Rodney,
smiling. “I know I'm not a sufficient
attraction.”
“I came to talk about Meade.”
“Mr. Winters,” said Helen, clasping
her hands over her knees and lean
ing forward, “‘if you know anything
about him, where he is, what he is
doing, how he fares, is he well, does
he think of—I beg you to tell me.”
“Miss Illingworth, there is nothing
I would refuse to tell you if it rested
with me.”
“I don't mind confessing to you, you
are such old friends, you and Mr. Rod
ney, and so devoted to Bert, that I am
worrying—"
“You need say nothing more. Miss
Illingworth. I know all about the situ
ation. Rodney wrote me and—”
“Well, then, you understand my anx
iety, my reason for asking?”
“I do.”
“And you will tell us?”
“I wish to heaven I could.”
“Can’t you tell us anything?”
“Well, yes, I can.”
“What?”
“It may be a breach of confidence.”
“I'd take the risk,” said the girl, her
bosom heaving. Was she at last about
to hear from her lover?
“Know where he is, old man?” asked
Rodney.
“I think so—not sure, but—”
“Where?”—from the woman, breath
lessly.
“I didn't agree to tell you thav.'
“What then?”
“All I can say is that after the death
of his father he turned up at my ranch
one day some five months ago and told
me his story.”
“What!” exclaimed Rodney. “Did
he tell you he was innocent?”
“Not at first. He told me he was
guilty.”
“But you didn t believe nun. urn
you?” asked the woman impulsively.
"I certainly did not.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I don’t know why. I just
didn't, that’s all. I know Meade. I
know him well. I know his make-up.
We get accustomed to sizing up a
man’s actions out West here, and it
didn't take me longer than it took
him to tell the story to know that it
wasn't true.”
“Oh. thank you for that,” said the
woman.
“But our beliefs are not evidence.
Hick.” interposed Rodney.
“We can't prove it and that's the
point. I told him,” continued Winters,
"that it was a da—darned lie—I heg
your pardon. Miss Illingworth. I mean
I told him that it was not true and that
he was a fool for sticking to it, and—
or- -he—admitted- -I—er.” floundered
Winters, suddenly realizing that he
was on the eve of a breach of confi
dence and checking himself just in
time. “In fact, the subject was painful
to him, and I let him alone, which is
what we generally do to a man who
doesn't want his affairs inquired into
too closely," Winters ended lamely,
realizing how near he had come to
betraying his friend’s confidence and
telling of Meade’s own admission that
lie had said what lie had to save the
fame and honor of the father.
“Well, what nest?” asked Rodney,
understanding &3 did Helen Illing
worth herself the ranchman’s hesita
tion. and respecting it. although the
unavoidable inference gave her great
joy.
“He hung around the ranch for a
month or sis weeks to get his balance.
He was pretty badly broken up. I’m
., bachelor myself and don't know
much about those things, hut I can
Slly that he loved you, Miss Illingworth,
Minrt) limit lift* ItStdL" _
“But not more than the reputation o*
his father,” she said with a little tinge
of bitterness.
“Well, I take it he looked at that a*
a matter of honor. You know a mun’a
got to keep his ideals of honor.”
“Even at the expense of a woman'll
heart?” said the girl.
“It sounds hard, but I guess we’ve
got to admit that. But that’s neither
here nor there,” he continued, gliding
over the subject, “the point is I found
j that he hud to fight it out himself, and
i I mainly let him alone. I gave him a
! horse and gun and turned him loose in
the wilds. Best place on earth for a
| man in his condition. Miss Illingworth.
I You can go out into the wilderness and
| get nearer to God there than any
! place I know of. He came back finally,
: turned in his gun, borrowed the horse,
bade me good-by, and said he was go
ing out to make a new start.”
| “Where did he go? Which way?”
I “ne was headed south when I saw
him last, and all this lay in his way."
“You mean—?” cried the woman.
“He may be here?” said Rodney.
Winters nodded.
“I have thought so. It’s only a
| guess, of course, and probably a poor
I one. But when I read in the papers
j that Colonel Illingworth was coming
I here, and that you were along, and
Miss Illingworth, I thought I’d just
take a run down here and see what
could be done.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you have come.”
“He’s not working 6u the bridge,”
said Rodney.
“How do you know. Rod?”
“I examined all the pay rolls, and
none of them bears his name.”
“He wouldn't work under his own
name in the Martlet Bridge company,”
said the woman.
“Certainly not. That was only my
first step. I went around among the
workmen, too, aud I got a look at every
one of them. I’m sure lie's not there.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
KNOWN TO ALL THE WORLD
—
Port of Elsinore, in Denmark, Made '
Famous Through the Genius of
Immortal English Poet.
Elsinore Is a little port city of Den
mark. on an island which juts north
ward to reach within three miles of
the coast of Sweden. Elsinore Is the
home of busy shipyards, of a thriving
summer colony; it has been immor
talized in the songs of Kipling as a
port hospitable to the errant sailor;
finally and especially it is the scene
where Shakespeare laid the tragedy
of “Hamlet.”
The overthoughtful and melancholy
figure of Hamlet rather overshadows
the rest of Elsinore, to the casual vis
itor at least. The summer colony
seems to succeed in forgetting his
! pessimistic point of view, but the
tourist is led to the grave of Hamlet,
he Is shown the brook where Ophelia
flung herself to drown her sorrow, and
bidden to contemplate the platform
where the ghost of the murdered king
took its after-dinner promenade.
Needless to soy, all such associa
| tions are pure fakes. They seem to
■ arise wherever some great human
j drama, real or fictitious, has been en
| acted, responding to a need of hurnan
i ity for some concrete object to serve
as a center for its sentiments. The
grave of Hamlet has long been an as
j set to Elsinore, but if rumor can be
' credited it has not always occupied
the same site. According to this tale
the original “grave” was inconvenient
| ly locuted for displny purposes, so the
I people of Elsinore finally raised the
I money to erect a fitting monument to
| Shakespeare's prince in a more acces
sible place. As for the ghost’s plat
form, the castle of which It forms a
part was not built until long after the
time when the tragedy was supposed
| to have been enacted.
Addition to Navy's Strength.
Several advantageous features have
been incorporated in a new kite balloon
lately constructed for use at the navy
; aeronautical station at Pensacola, Fla.
i The balloon is described, with illustra
tions, in the Popular Mechanics Maga
zine. One of the noticeable differences
i in its design from observation craft
I of the sort employed in European
! countries is the total absence of the
sausagelike rubber bag at the posterior
end. An additional feature which is
somewhat distinctive is the provision
of an air flap or pocket on the under
side, near the middle. This is held open
by guy lines extended from the free j
edge to the observer's basket swung j
far below and is understood to give
the device, with the help of the tail I
cups, considerable stability. To facili- j
tate the handling of the balloon a reel
accommodating 2,000 feet of cable and
operated by power transmitted through
a flexible shaft from the rear wheel of
a motorcar, is employed. The envelope
is SI feet in length and has a maxi
mum diameter of 22 feet.
, Making Homes.
In family life, in the real home, the
! highest qualities of character may be
developed. There is a force in family
affection that makes and keeps the
heart tender to all. It banishes selfish
ness, jealousy and malice. In happy
home life cruelty finds no place. Even
animals feel the benefit of the tender
heart. We need, and need greatly,
more good will to all with whe in we
have to do. We need to know how to
make allowances for failures in others,
to make concessions to the wishes and
conveniences of others. The friendly
give and take of family life tends to
make one more fitted for living In the
community.—Milwaukee Journal.
Clock Struck One.
Horrid Bore—“I rise by an alarm
clock.” Pretty Girl—“I retire by one.
a'i— u ---
OLD BIT OF LAND!
Summits of Siskiyou Mountains I
Above Water Ages Ago.
Border Guardians Between Cd .1
and Oregon Were Grow.ng ForeJ:
When Most of Europe
Was Sea.
— IB
According to sr»->•••ii,,. sutnii,
of flic Siskiyou mourn the .r«i
guardians between »'.
gon. constitute one of tin- .• i„t, .,t H
land in the world. Tie . r:
the scientists, growing a n
the greater part of Eur**!
beneath the water. Thej jfet
hillocks of a low flat island vf1
miles in length when th“ l'a> n
reached eastward to the Koek;.
tains. Gigantic saurians basked
shade of the Island's trees
leviathan of the Scriptures swum !
its shores. Finally the I'm itic -
emerged from the ocean and Tie ismicl
became the backbone of a umuniam
range. Siskiyou tunnel, ar ■ !<-.
tion of 4.000 feet, extends tlr : _-h
solid bank of ocean shells, and : r ;'s
length of 3,100 feet follows T
line of the ancient island, as
by the sandstone which on*
its beach.
Iwo miles east of Siskiyou "
says a writer in “Tin* Sacred Su s
of the Siskiyou," “Pilot r
from the very vertebrae of tie r
to lift its sheer walls duo fe»-r *
air. Pilot rock is a cliimn
iiurned out in a hotter lire tl
ever known by man. It was on. ft
iiues through which the molten i
spouted to form the range. s<> •
was the outburst that it I. >
strange, fantastically simp- ! ‘
standing there against the >k>. I
to come into use, in the due pr.s e- .
of events, as one or the great - -
towers of the western wilderi -
ward which, on a hazel.— day. c - |
hunters and warriors f..r a In 1
miles around would turn a \
eye. Besides tlie rock was til
ing place of chiefs. They called
ki-you. meaning the council -•
The result of their deliberate : - ' >
made known from this chimney t- :
“Tlie Indians used a finger ■ f h - s
smoke by day and a tongue <>f red
flame by night. When the chi.-f of
the Shastas di.-d, the word was il -i
from the mountain that l.- r- 11,• ■ •
name, was repeated from Pilot r
and presently the Indians of -1 !
Loughlin peak region, far to th
were making mourning signs.
“When gold was discovered a:
Yreka. in northern California, th
tiers of the Maznmas country in Or
gan wished to join the rush, but kn- ■
no southward trail. It was then tli
chieftain, whose daugliter had
brought hack to health, led his whit,
benefactors to a peak and point
across 80 miles of shimmering va
and hill to Pilot rock. ‘By tin* rig
side lends an easy trail." the write ■
leader said. His friends were in
ly on their way and they had picked
fortunes at Yreka before thei: n.
hors of tlie Mazamae could break tie
way through a tangled waste in wh
they could find no single sign >
road.
“In the days of warfare with
native tribes the whites came to
and dread the almost incredible p
of Pilot rock. As often as a pin. ■
expedition approached the barrier
range, the whites were spied by sh: rp
eyes, the warning was kindled upon
the rock, and the faithful sentries had
vanished before the enraged soldi - ry
could struggle up to the red tower and
quench the signal flames. Throughout
the Modoc wars runners brought fre
quent word to the renegade Captain
Jack from this clearing house of th.
aews. No wonder the Indians lighted
all the peaks around with altar fir. s
and called them by a name which
meant the Sacred Summits of the s; •
kiyous!
“Gallant General Canby knew and
hated Pilot rock. General Fremont is
said to have Included It lu his explora
tions and in his plans. Often J.coiuin
Miller sought the place for inspiration
and lingered until there burst fr..ru
his lips some new song of the twin em
pires that unrolled below his eyes. A
host of pilgrims of the adventure trail
have halted there to rest, and to avail
themselves of the far-reaching out
look from this vantage point.”
Animals in Fire.
Most animals are afraid of fire, and
•vill fly from it in terror. To others
here is a fascination about u flame,
mil they will walk into it, even though
ortured by the heat.
A horse in a burning stable goes
nad with fear, hut a dog is as cool in a
ire as at any time, lie keeps his nose
town to the floor, where the air is pur
est, and sets himself calmly to timlii g
Us way out. Cats in fire cry piteou- ■
1’hey hide their faces from the 1 -
ind crouch in corners. When then
•escuer lifts them they are us a rule
quite docile and subdued, never I' mg
>r scratching.
Birds seem to be hypnotized by fire,
ind keep perfectly still; even the lo
quacious parrot In a fire has nothing
to say. Cows, like dogs, do not show
ilarm. They are easy to lead forth,
ind often Hud their way out them
selves.
Demanding Proof.
“I see by youi hand that you are go
ing to be rich some day,” said the
palmist.
"Uinph I" replied the skeptical elii nr.
‘If you can show me a $10 hill in m
land I’ll believe you.”
Interesting Occupation.
“Do you like your new motor car’"
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Chuggins Mv
lusband isn't away from home nearlv
is much as lie used to he.”
“How does lie spend his time’”
“Trying to get the ear started.”
No Second Time
“I had no idea she’d accept me the
first time I proposed.”
1 ime?" J’OU UUnk ShL‘ "°Uld second
-n. TC would have been no second
