Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, January 27, 1921, Page 2

sy omens s o ¥ae s ncamcavas AR deiy * 7HE BEMIDJT DAILY PIONEER e S — T owarais, 'HURSD, iy 5 FERT LT PR AY EVEN ING; JANUARY 27,1921~ _ BEMIDJI DAILY PIONEER E. CARSON, President E. H. DENU, Sec. and Mgr. : BARNWELL, Editer J. D. WINTER, City Editor Telephone 922 t Beémidji, Minnesots, as second-class matter, of Congress of March 8, 1879. e . Act d \'o anonymous contributions. Writer’s name must -:but not necéssarily for publication.” Communica- meer ach this office not later than Tuesda; By Mail [+ 1030 (71 Jm— | X |} Six Months wcvmecemeneeecececenes 2.50 ; Three Months ..... e 1.25 THE WEEKLY PIONEER—Twelve pages, published every Thursday and sent postage paid to any address fcr, in advance, $2.00. ) . QFFICIAL COUNTY AND CITY PROCEEDINGS —_——— THOSE COSTLY ARMAMENTS The subject of reduction of armaments is at present one|’ of the most discussed subjects in-our national capital and else- where throughout the country. Sometimes figures are not in- teresting. They become monotonous. ‘Recently, however, some figures have been given out that are worse than monotonous,| they are staggering. During the past year the national budget was $5,686,005,706. Quite a large sum to run a nation of 105,- 000,000 people, but of this amount, how much did it really take to run the nation? The greatly reduced sum of $409,392,410, in other words, of the huge budget of over five and a half bil- lion, $5,276,613,295 was absorbed by expenditures for wars, either present, past or future. { ‘y § Think of it 92.8 per cent of our budget to be used for the purposes of war and 7.2 per cent far the good of the people. Of the 7.2 per cent, 1 per cent was used for public welfare, stration of government. " The 1 per cent of the budget which goes to public welfare is divided about as follows: 3-4 of 1 per cent for agriculture and development of the natural resources of the country; 1-8 of 1 per cent for education; 1-14 of 1 per cent for public health, 1-100 of 1 per cent for labor betterment. 4 The 3 per cent for public works goes to parks, rivers and harbors improvement. The 3-2-10 per cent for.administration covers the expense of congress, the president and ‘other depart- ments of government. : For armament, of the 92 8-10 per cent, 25 per cent is for| present armament and 67 8-10 per cent for past wars. These figures should make the people of the United States give this matter some serious thought. The past is past, we can- not-escape from the past tebt incurred for war, but we can es- cape from much of the tremendous wastage of this money in the future. Of these staggering amounts, much has been mulcted from the nation’s citizens by dishonest, wasteful and incompe- tent officials. This can be ovgrcome. The sum of $1,319,153,324, which is proposed to be spent by the government for armament in the near future, is pre- posterous. It is inconcgivable that the people of the :Amegican nation will permit such expenditure for this purpos the nation’s administrators would heed the requests of the tillers of the soil and the instructors of their children as readily a5 they do the makers of armaments and the spenders of ‘armiient funds the 92.8 per cent would be spent for the public welfare instead of the 1 per cent, and the 1 per cent would be spent for armaments instead of the 92.8 per cent. e 0- THE BASIS FOR PREDICTIONS " Those who make predictions that are worth reading, com- pile inventories of basic conditions. They add their knowledge that the United States is affluent in natural resources. Official statistics show conclusively that the country requires vast pro- duction, that the wheels of finance, industry, agriculture and so- ciety are rich in natural lubricants to produce good times under nox:mal conditions. In other words, human and physical inven- tories show that our country is not only solvent, but literally roll- ing in wealth. The future fact is apparent, that the country was thrown entirely out of joint'by the war. Those who have been competent to analyze the situation in its entirety agree that f}xndamgntal laws are at work, and that it is only a question of gmg when the country v\;ill again be on a sound and substantial asis, 3 . There is but one outstanding difference in the analysis which they bring to the situation. Some authorities say that general conditions will right themselves next spring. Others set the time a year later. Still others split the difference and say that the country will be back to normal next fall. All of these people agree that humanity does its business on a basis of co_nfidence,.and therefore, the period of distrust will have to be wlpgd out in every community before the gountry returns to good times, and to what President-elect Har ing is pleased to refer to as “normalcy.” OVERHI,‘ZARD BY EXCHANGE EDITOR “Why quit your own to stand upon I\;reign ? Ty, bjin 4 5 v L ground? . Why,: by, ints weaving our degtmy with that of any part of Europe, 1ntang)l':'.'ou¥ peaece and wospet:n't_y in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor and caprice?”—From Washington’s Farewell Address.—Daily Virginian. - :Vgth@;;‘e:'cs due »:xll 105 indictments, grand juryisitting at Milwaukee, in which the jurors called Wi i legislators to seek repeal of the Volstead act and pen:int :huo;ln;;:z?“sg of llghq wities and beer, have aroused protests from churches and other or- ganizgu.nn&;' No woqder there are protests. Must Uncle Sam bow in humble submissioniitd the wine-bibbers?—Mankato Daily Free Press. the resolutions of the federal Minnegota might be saved from the backy: i i ht b ward step of capital - ment by ending the ‘present law to prohibit the pnrgoning tp;,tnmg: ncl::L victed of difiberate murder—and mal a life sentence will mean just that. One of th b trong arguments for the restoration of capital punishment is‘ ]t;h':t’:l{r‘e: 4 :;‘z?te:hsene‘s fro_mflten to twenty,years, and. when the public e crime, i i Bas forgotil influential friends often Things that Won't Ge % Lvokir_:g for a cheap steak. ¢ Yoi Asywhere Speaking of the office bookkee: Buying a ten-cent ring. : Telling the farmers they Reading about a revoluti Per as your stenographer. “get'their money too easily. b on in Peru.—Free Press Evening Bulletin. St. Patrick is credited with having driven th ki now ‘the, Sinn. Feiners propose tvgdrive :nt :h:n:: i now the ¥ ) to 9 nglish by adopting : ,s;?hé]b;::;njo“:::]lg:rfi\'vm have t-helr Joke, even in the face of calamity.— es out of Ireland, seécure a pardon.— | | 3 per cent for public works and 3 2-10 per cent for the admini- | belteved them, Just:as;everybodyelso | cated them. Had to borrow money to ; WEBSTER | AN SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I-—Jolin Stuart Webster, mining engineer, uftdr cleaning up a for- tune in Death Vallay, Calif., boards a train for the 1Zast. He befriends a young! lady annoyed by a_ masher, thoroughly trouncing the “pest.”” CHAPTER II.—At Denver Webster re- ceives a letter from Rilly Geary, his clos- est friend. Geary urges him io come to ntral Agnerica, to finance Sobrante, mining claim. He decides and develop o Continued From Last Issue) | “Give a dog 2 bad nmme, and it will stick to him,” Webster retorted. “Of cours@'l testified against him. As en- gineer for the Mine Owners’ associa- tion, T, had to. The high-grade ore was found in his assay office, and the | circunistantial evidence was complete, and I adwmit Billy was acquitted merely: because I and others could not swear!! positively that the ore came frém ‘guy certain mine. It was the same pld story, Neddy. You can he T certain that high-grade ore | has bepn:stolen from :your ‘mine, but unless you catch the ore thief in the act, how can you prove it?/ I supposej you read the newspaper reports and does.” “Well, forget it, Jack. long ago, and forgotten.” “It wasn’t all over so long ago as you seem to" thix I suppose you knew the Holman gang was after- ward sent to the penitentiary for those same high-grade operations? Billy Geary’s acquittal didn’t end my Interest in the cuse—not by a jugful! I fought the case against the friends of! the" Holman crew among the mine owners themselves; and it cost me my good job, my prestige as a mining en- gineer, and thirty thousand dollars of money that I'd slaved to get together. Of course you never knew this, Neddy, and for that matter, neither does Geqry. I wish he did. We were good friends once. X certainly ‘was mighty fond of that boy.” He drew ihe letter from' the en- velope and’slowly opened it “And you never heard what became of Geary?” “Not a word. I was too busy won- dering what was to become of me. I couldn't get a job anywhere in Colo- rado, and I moved to Nevada. Made a million in Goldfield, dropped it in the panic of 1907, and had to start again—" “What have you been doing lately?” “Borax, Staked a group of claims down fn Death valley. ' Bully ground, Neddy, and I was busted when I lo- It's all over 1 pay the filing fees and incorporation, and did my own assessment work, Look!” Webster held up his hands, still somewhat grimy and calloused. “The Borax trust knew I was busted, but they never could quite get over the fear that I'd dig up some backing and give them a run—so they bought we out.” “Somebody told me Geary had gone to Rhodesia,” Jerome continued mus- ingly, “or maybe it was Capetown, I know he was seen sometwhere in South Africa.” “He left the Creek Immediately after the conclusion of his trial. Poor boy! That dirty business destroyed the 1ad and made ‘a tramp of him, I guess, I tell you, Neddy, no two men ever lived who came nearer to loving each other than Bllly Geary and his old Jack-pardner. We bucked the marts of men and went to sleep to- gether hungry many a time during our five-year partnership. Why, Bill was like wy own boy. Jerome, I curse the day 1 took that boy out from un- derground and put him in the assay offige to learn the business. Xow could I know that the Holman gang had cached the stuff in his shack?” “Well, it's too bad,” Jerome an- swered dully. He was quite willing that the subject of conversation should be changed. “I'm glad to get the right dope on the boy, anyhow. Have an- other drink?” . “Not until I read this letter. Now, for Denver and the Engineers’ club? 1 didn‘t tell a soul, and I only ar-; rived this morning.” He turned to the last page to ascer- tain the identity of his correspondent, | and his facial expression ran the gamut from surprise to a joy that was | good to see. John Stuart Webster rend it delib- erately, after which he sat in silent contenmplation: 0f the design of the; carpet £or fully a minute before reach- ing for the bell. A servant responded fmediately. “Briug wme the time-tables of all roads leading to New Orleans,” he ordered, “—also a cable blank.” Webster had reread the letter be- fore the servant returned with the time-igbles. “August, you go out to the desk, like.a good fellow, and ask-the secre- tary to arrange for a compartment for | me te New Orleans on the Guif States | mud—". | heart to have to decline it, but the 1imited; leaving at 10 o'clo - row night,” He handed the ‘servant his card. “Now wait a minute until I write something.” He seized the| cable blank, helped himself, unin- vited, to Neddy Jerome's fountain pen, and wrote: ' “William H. Geary, Calle de Concordia i\;n. 19, Buenaventura, Sobrante, . A, “Salute, you young jackass!, Just received your letter. Cabling thou- sand for emergency roll first thing to- morrow. Will order machingry. Leav- ing for New"Orleans tomorrow night, to arrive Buenaventura first steamer. Your letter caught e with a Jundred thousand. We cut it 'two ways and take our chances. ‘Keep a 1ight'in the window for your old d !+ "“JACK PARDNER.” . | “That’s a windy cablegram,” Neddy Jerome remgrked as the servant bore it away. “Why all'thjs garrulity? A cablegram anywhere generally costs at least 'a dollar g: word.” : “‘That’s my. dé\llgh'. of a shiny night, . in'*¢hé -Season of the*year,” quoted Jolih * Stuart Webster; “and why the devil economize when the boy needs cheering yp?” “What boy?” “Billy Geary.” “Where is he?” “Central America.” Neddy Jerome was happy. He Was fn an espansive mood, for he had, with the assistance of a kindly fate, rounded up the one engineer in all the ‘world whom he needed to take charge of the Colorado Consolidated. So he sald¥, ¢ ! £ “Well, Jagk; just to celebfate the | discovery ‘of ‘your old pal, Tl tell you | what T'll do. Il O. K. your voucher | for the expense of bringing young Geary back to the U: 8. A, .and when we get him here, it will be up to ‘you to find a siug berth for him ‘with Col- | orado Consolidated.” iy i “Neddy,” said qu{n Stuart ‘Webster, “by my halidom, I love thee. You're a thoughtful, kindly old stick-in-the- " - . ab s “No if's x'gx?n 4 Tm your boss™ Jerome int fed, § and'¥ waddlea away to telephoné the head‘ivaiter at | his favorite restaurant to reserve a table for two. e = Mr. )Vebster sighed. He disliked | exceedingly to dis: int 0]d Neddy, | but— - He shrank | from' se¢ming to think overwell of himself declin- ing a twent§-five-thousn ollar-a: year job with the biggest mining com pany In, C§lorado, 3 t— % “Rotten luck,” H ‘s_solllufil,llzed- 1t changes, and gets worse!” ‘When Jerome returned to his, seat, the serious look in Webster’s hitherto laughing eyes challenged his immedi- ate attention. | “Neddy,” sald John Stuart Webster | gently, “do you remember my cross- Ing my fingers and saying ‘King’s X’ when you came at me with that propo- sition of yours? It just breaks my fact of the matten is, I think you'd better give that job to your brother | after :all. At any rate, I'm not going to take iL” | - “Why?! the amazed Jeromo de-| manded. “Johnny, you're crazy in th'ei head. ! Of course you'll take {t* . * For ' anséver. Webster handed - hf§ friendithe letter he had just recefved. “Réad that, ojd horse, and see if you ‘ can’t ‘work up a circulation,” he sug- ! gested. 5 ! Jerome nfljustcdfhls speétacles and | read: . | “Calle de Concordid 19,sBuénaventura, “Sobrante, C. A. “Dear John: I would address you as ‘dear friend John, did I but pos-| sess sufficient™courage. In my heart ! you eannot, please cable anyway. TUs thé sWeetest wildeat 1 Struck, ‘and’ we’stand the finest show in:the world of starving to “deathif- we tackle it without suflicient capital to. ‘go through. ‘It.will take at least thirty thousand dollars,“and we ought to have double that to play-safe. I do not know whether you have, or can raise, Sixty cents, but at any rate 1 am going to put the buck up to you and you can take a fook... ... - #1 R 1s Dty aik countg, I “you survive ilong enough ot used to'it. : At first you ghink it's Par- ;adise;, then you grow to hate it.and ‘know_It' for hell with the 1id off ; ‘and| finally ‘all your easly, love for Itire- turns:and you become:wiiat'T am pow —a iropical tramp.! 7 There is only one social stfatum lower than mine, and that's’ the tropical Deachcomber. ' am ot that—yet; .and. wil| not.be: if ue to listen to k. my landlady will'conti my blandishments: #8he is {6 ‘sweet soul, with a divine ‘disposition, and I .am duly grateful. “I would tell you all about the geog- raphy, topograply, flora and fauna of Sobrante, but you can ascertain that in_detail by consulting any sumd-l ard encyclopedia. Governmentally the country is similar to its sister re- publics. It's a cold day indéed when two patriots, two viva’s and a. couple of old Long Tom Springfield rifles cannot upset the Sobrante apple cart. We haven’t had a revolution for near- ly six months, but we have hopes. “I am addressing you at the Engi- neers’ club, in the hope that my letter may reach you there, or perhaps the secretary will know your address and forward it to you. If you are foot- loose and still entertain a llngering} ‘regard for your old pal, gzet busy on | .this mining concession P. D. Q. Time _is the ~cssence of the contract, b cause . I am holding on to the thin H edge of nothing, and if we have a rehango of government I may lose even that. I need you, John Stuart W ster, worse than I need salvatibs enclose you a list of equipment re- quired, “If you receive this letter and can | do anything for me, please cable. If Do | Jet me hear from you, Jack, if only to 1 tell me the old entente cordiale still ‘} exists. T know now that I was con- siderable of a heedless pup a few years ago and overlooked my hand quite reg- ularly, but now that X have a good thing T do not know of anybody with whom I care to share it except your own genlal 's¢lf. Please let me.hear from you. “Affectionately, “BILLY." Jerome finished reading this rema able communication; then with in- finite amuscment he regarded John Stuart, Webster over the tops of his glasses as one who cxamines a new . and interesting species of bug. “So Billy loves that dear Sobrante, ch?” he said with abysmal sarcasm. | “Jack Webster, listen to a sane. man and.be guided accordingly. I was in this :same little Buenaventura once. | 1 was”there for three days, and I | wouldn't have been there three min- utes if T could have caught a steamer | out sooner. Of all the miserable, squalid, worthless, ornery, S$tinking holes on the face of God's green foot- | stool, Sobrante is the worst—if one | may judge it by its capital city. Arve | vou going to chase off to this God-for- | saken fever-hole at the behest of a lad | “Tt | scarcely out of his swaddling clothes? : bye, old man,” he said, and extended runs that way for a while, and then! Jack Webster, surely you aren’t going | his hand. “Don’t worry about me. to throw yourself away—give up the | sure thing I offer you—to join Billy | Geary in Sobrante and finance a wild- | eat prospect without a certificate of | title attached. Be reasonable.” What did you wire that confounded boy?” “That 1 was coming.” . “Cable him you've changed ‘your mind. We'll send him some woney to of hearts you are still that, but after three years of silence, due to my stu- pidity and hardness of heart, it is, per- | haps, better to make haste slowly. . ' “To begin, I should like to be tflr-“ given, on the broad general grounds ' that I am most almighty sorry for| what I'went and done! Am I-forgiv-| ! ! en? T seem to see your friendly old | who the dicKens kitew I was headed face an@ hegr you answer ‘Aye,’ and | with thiy 104 off my chest'at last 1. believe: L fecl better already. - : “Jack, 'you poor, deluded old plece of white medt, do you think for a mo- | ment that I 'held against you your| testimony fof;the operators in Cripple | Creck? I thought you belicved the | charges and’that you testified in a firm beligt that T was the guilty' man, | as all of the ercumstantial ovidence| seemed to indicate. 1 thought this for; three lofig, jmieagre years, old friend,| and I'm sorry. After that, 1 suppose; there isn't any need for we to say, more, except that you are an old fool} for not ing vou were going to! spend your money and your time and; reputation tryiug to put my halo back' on straight! I doubt if I was worth| it, and you knew that; but let it pass,| for we have other,fish to fry. 1 “The nubbin of the matter is this:| There is only one good gold mine left in_this weary world—and I bave it. i tached. | join forces with Bill Geary, there to tblank’ thing . after. the other—an fn- ! .choate mass-of ‘liver and disappoint- | inent! " | Geary's mining concession in Sobrante, [*within the hour, he had in his charac- art Webstey anstvered; and possibly. by this time, the reader has begun to understand the potency of his middle name—the Scotch are notoriously pig- headed, and Mr. Webster had just enough oatmeal in his blood to have come by-that center fire name honest- Is. “And you, you poor old horse, you could ' not possibly understand Avhy, if you lived to be a million years old.” P ! Ha got up from his chair to the full hejght | of ! ‘his six-feetone, and s:.g,fched 190'pounds of bone and mus- elet v |1 ‘And so. T shall go to Sobrante and loge; all of this all-important money, Ehall I7” lie jeered. “Then by all the ‘gods -of the Open Country, I hope I may. Dad burn you, Neddy, I'm not a Methuselah. I want some fun in life. I want to fight and be broke and go | hungry and then make money for the love of making it and spending it, and I want:to live a long time yet. I want to see the mirage across the sagebrnsh and hear it whisper:. ‘Hither, John Stuart Webster! Hither, you fool, and Il hornswoggle you again, as in an elder day I hornswoggled you be- fore.! ™ Jerome shook his white thatch hope- lessly. d “I thought you were a great mining engineer, John,” he said sadly, “bit youre not. Youre a poet. You do not seem to care.for money.” “Well.” Webster retorted humorous- Iy, “it isn’t exactly what you might term a ruling.passion. I.like to make it, but there’s more fun spending it. I've made $100.000, and~now I want |\ to go blow it—and I'm going to. ;Do not try to argue with me. I'm a Iuna- tic and I will have my way. I£ T didn’t go tearing off to Sobrante and ay the game, red or black, I'd feel ns if T had done something low and 'mean“and small. The boy’s appealed to me,-and I have made my answer. 1£-F come back alive but broke, you know in your heart you'll give me’th’ best job you have.” L “gou win,” poor Jerome admitted. - “Hold the job épen 80 days. At ihe end of that period T'll give you a definite answer, Neddy. “I sniff excitement and adventure and profit in Sobrante and I've Just got to look-see. I'm like an old burro | staked out knee-deep in /alfalfa just now. I won't take kindly to the pack——" “And like an old burro, you won’t he happy until you've sneaked through | a hole in the fence to get out into a | stubble-field and -starve” Jerome | swore half-heartedly and promulgated the tritc proverb that life is just one | 5 iF beestung, and hastily Ifted his Jat. The girl briefly, returned his serutiny with sudden -interest, decided sha did not know him, and reproved him with a glance that even passe old Neddy Jerome did not fail to assimi- late. “Wow, wow!” he murmured. “The next time you try that, Johnny ‘Web- ster, be sure you're right—" “Good land o' Goshen, Neddy,” Web- ster replied. “Fry me in. bread crumbs, if- that isn’t the, same girl! Let me go, Neddy. ' ‘Quick! ood:bye; old chap. I'm on my way.?---- ) “Nonsensé! The triin'doesnt pull’ ot _for seven ‘minutés yet. ¢ Who ‘s she, .Jahn, and, why (Joesshe excite, you 0% .. [, o “\Who 1s she, you anclenf horse thief? Why, £ I.have my way—and: ¥m ‘certainlyi going to try.to have it —she's ‘the future Mrs. Wa" - “Alas? “Poor Yorick, ¥ 'knowed him well,” Jerome answered. ‘“Tike a tip from the old man, John. I've been through the mill and I knoyw. Never marry a girl that can freeze you with a glance. It isn't safe. By the way, what's the fair charmer’s name?” “I've got it down in my memoran- dum book, but I can’t recalk it this min- ute—Spanish name.” i " “John, my dear boy, be careful,” Neddy Jerome counseled. “Stick ‘to your own kind of people— Is this —a—er—a nice girl, John?" “How do I know—I mean, how dare you ask? Of course, she’s nice. Can’t you see she is? And besides, why hould you be so fearful—" “I'll, have you understand, young nian, that I have considerdble‘interest in the girl you're going to marry. By .the avay, where did you first meet this girl? . Who introduced you?” ¢I baven't met her, and I've never been introduced;” AVebster complained,’ and .poured forth the tale of his ad- ventureé. on- the train from Denth val- ley. -Neddy was very sympathetic. _“Well, no wonder she didn’t recog- nize’ you when you saluted’her to- night}” he agreed. “Thought you were another brute of a man trying to make a'mash. By thunder, Jack, I'm afraid you made a mistake when you shed vour whiskers and buried your old clothes.” I ‘don't care what she thinks. I found her. I lost her, and I've found her again; and I'm not golng to take any further chances.” The porter, - having delivered his charge’s baggage in, her section, was returning for another. iip. Webster reached out and accosted. him. “Henry,” he said, “where did stow that young lady’s hand gage? . - “Lower Six, Car Nine, sah.” “I have a weakness for colored boys “Do you find 1t 50?” Webster' queried sympathetically. : H "Suspecting that he. was being | twitted, Jerome looked up sharply, ! prepared fo wither Webster with that | ance. But no, the mian was abso-| Iutely serious; whereupon Jerome realized the futility of further argu- ment and gave John Stuart’ Webster up for a total loss. - Still, he could not help smiling as he reflected how Web- | ster had planned a year of qui¢t en- Joyment and Fate had granted him one brief evening. He marveled that Webster could-be so light-hearted and | contented.under the circumstances. . | Webster read his thoughts. “Good- Allah fs always kind to fools,” my friend; sorrow is never their portion. In answering Billy’s call I have a feel- ing that I am answering the eall of a great adventure.” He did not know how truly h spoke, of comrse, but if he had, that knowl- edge would met have changed his an- swer. CHAPTER III. The nforning following his déclsion | to play the role of angel to Billy John Stuart Webster, like Mr. Pepys, was up betimes. . Nine o'clock found him in the offict of his friend Joe Daingerfield,.of the Bingham engineering works, where, teristically decisive fashion purchased the machinery for a ten-stfinp mill. ‘It | was a nice order, and Daingerfield | | was delighted. 5 e i “This 13 going to cost you about half your fortune, Jack,” he informed Web- ster when the order was finally made up. . Webster grinned. “You.don’t stp- "pose ©’'m chump enough to pay for. it} aow, do you, Joe?” he queried. “I'm going first to scout the coum- try and in the meantime kcep'all this stuff in your warehouse until I au- thorize you by cable to” ship, when you can draw on me at sight for the entire invoice with bill of lading at-| If, upon investigation, 1 find | | that this mine isn’t all my partner| | Mind.» | come home, and you can give him al good job under you. I'll O. K. the voucher and charge it to your per-| sonal expense account.” “That's nice 6t you, old sport, and 1| thank- you Kindly. I'Il talk to Billy| when I arrive in Buenaventura, and it | the prospect doesn’t '1ook good:to me, T'll argue him out of it and we'll come howe. Let me go. I might come back. But I must go. I want to sce T “You just said a minute ago turned the forty-year post,” warned him. “And you're now going to lose a year or two more in which you might better be engaged laying up a foundation of independence .for | your old age. For Heaven's sake, man, | don’t be a fool.” “Ol, hyg T will he a fool” John Stu: | | packing for the journey. thinks it is, Il cabie a’ eancellation. | and you can tear that nice fat order | up and forget it.” g% From Daingerfield’s office ;Webster, went forth to purchase a »sile;_lpxeri{ trunk, his railway ticket and sleep- Ing car reservation—after, whick ‘he remurned to his Horel. and set about Old Neddy Jerome, as sour and who are quick at figures,” Webster de- clared, and ‘disicissed the porter with the gratuity. He turned to Jerome. “Neddy, I feel that I am answering the ‘eall to a great adventure,” he de- clared solemnly;.. “I know .it, Jack. and God bless you. If your, fit of)in- sanity passes within 90 days, cable me; and if you're broke, stick the Co- lorado Con. for the:cable tolls.” “Good old wagon!” Wepster replicd affectionately. Then he shook hands and climbed aboard the train. The instant he disappearcd in the vesti- bule; however, Neddy Jerome waddled “’m Old Enough to Be Your Father.” rapidly” down the track .to Car 9, . climbed aboard, and made his way to Lower 6, The young lady in the green tailor-made suit was there, looking idly out of the window. “Young lady,” Jerome began, “may T presunic to address you for a wo- ment ona matter of great importance to youl Don’t be aftaid, of me, my dear. Tib old enough to be your fa- ther, and’besides, I'm-one of the nicest old meh'§ou ever met.” ¢ She feould ‘nét "forhear. s’ smila 2“Very well, sir,” she replied. i Neddy/Jerome, produced a pencil and card. “Please write your. name on this- ‘ood-bye, fon, cross as a setting hen, accompanied card,” he pleaded, *aed I'll telegraph him in’the taxicab to the station, loth’‘what I:want to say to yow. Thersll to let him escap¢ and pleadifiz to the be a man coming through ‘thi# ¢ai in last, in'a forlorn hope that Juck Web- a minudé; and I don’t want him to See ster’s better nature would triumph over me here. Please trust me, youn his friendship and boyish yearning lady” for adventure. - He elung to Webster’s: - The young lady did not trust him, arm as they walked slowly down the| however, although she wrofe on tle track and paused at the steps of ¥he| card. Jerome thanked her and fled car containing the wanderer's réserva-| as fast as his fat old legs conld car- tion, just ag a porter, ‘_c:m-ying some| Iy him.: Under the station arc he hand baggage, passed’them by;“fol-| fead the card. lowed by a girl in a green tailor-made| “Henriefta Wilkins,” he murmured. | suit. As she passed, John Stuart Web-' “By the gods,_one would never sus- “ster looked fairly,into her face, started (Continued on Page §)