Evening Star Newspaper, March 11, 1923, Page 68

Merle Renton Had Ahways Played Square; Wondered Why That Should Be Wished HE big auditorium, shaped like the lower half of a flare- edged poach basket, was packed with men. The Beptember night was sickeningly hot. In the exact center of the place was a raised platform, a twenty- four-foot squared ring. Above this beat down a scoro of glaring elec- tric lights bringing out into sharp relief three human flgures. Of this trlo one was a cweating and red-faced man in shirt sleeves and baggy trousers. The aro lighty made his bald head ,ehine like a talo. He was “Honest’ Tim Con- stantin, and he was refereeing one of the most spectacular and best ad- vertised fights the Cestus Athletic Club had staged for a year. The ring’s two other occupants were Splke Kennelly and Merle Renton. Stripped to trunks and socks and sanvas shoes, they faced each other, panting through set teeth, their faces engorged and blood-smeared, their hairy chests and white torso #ides epattered with reddish-blue blothches where bruising blows had landed. It was Merle Renton's fight. The wise ones had seen that from the ~nd of the first round, in spite of Kennelly’s savage work. And they had seen it Increasingly in every one of the six rounds that had fol- lowed. Kenneily was a born fighter, erafty, ferocious, apelike in his dy- | namic strength. But Renton was| besting him. Steadily, with no gal- lary plays and with no atom of| lost motion. Merle had tackled his fob. Bit by bit he was wearing down.d his taller and showler opponent. | For the most part the crowd was | zlad. For Merle Renton, welter-| welght champion of the east, was popular. Every fight fan knew him to be square and clean. From the antipodes had come Spike Kennelly, New Zealand's welterwelght shamplon. Across the continent he had fought his way, from the west traveling east, winning victory after victory—sometimes in a way that d1a not add to his popularity or to his fame for sportsmanship. And at iast he had challenged Merle Renton. * % % % VOBODY in the Cestus arena that AN night knew better than did Spiko Kennelly that the New Zealander’s unbroken line of wvio- tories was in danger, just then, of sudden curtailment. Ruse after ruse ! he tried—ruses which earned him ourt warnings from Constantin and an occastonal ringside hiss. Tho men came up for the eighth- | round. Merle advanced to the cen- | ter in a business-like fashion. | Spike came out of his corner with a rush. The men crashed together in midring in a volley of short-arm | jabs which culminated almost in- stantly in a clinch. As they clinched, Snike brought up one arm awkwardly as if to hit his antagonist on the forehead. The referee’s eve followed the silly ma- neuver as Kennelly had intended it should. And, in the same instant, Spike brought down his heel with all his strength and the full welght of his 140-0dd pounds on Merle's instep. The instep is one of the body’s most cogent nerve centers. The stamp of Kennelly's heel, for all its eoft rub- ber sheathing, sent a torrent of an- guish surging through Renton's Wwhole body. TFor the first time In hig five-years experience as a fighter, Merle “hung on” in the clinch—hung on despairingly. lest he topple to the | ground. “Now, then, boys! tntoning, “Break clean, here! Act nfce! Break away, I'm telling you! Break Renton!” Btill half dazed with pain. Merie obeyed. He did not make complaint. It was not his war to squeal to the referee. At once, Kernelly was at Renton, like a raging tiger. As he charged, © almed a mighty left swing for the | aw. Merle saw the swing coming. He% threw up his guard, at the same time jerking his head to one side and step- ing backward. But, thanks to parred nerves and azed brain, the move was too slow. His tortured foot would not carry nim away soon enough. Nor did his ;love fly up in time to block the blow. Over Merle's guard flashed the swing. The thunderbolt fist crashed straight into the center of Renton's forehead, just above the eyebrows. (ts impact sent him to the floor. It would have felled a heavywelght. Instantly, Merle Renton gathered :is feet under him. Befors the referee had reached the count of two, he was on his feet and ready for the fray. But, even as he scrambled up, Merlo was aware that the fuses—in the bullding's electric light apparatus had burned out. The arena was In pitch darkness. Merle frowned vexedly. ,It was very annoying. He half-turned, to srope his way to his own corner. Why didn’t one of his seconds light match to guide him? g The crowd was still velling and heering and shouting encourage- iment; just as though the place was not in pitch darkness. Then, in sick horror, Merle under- stood. It was not the light, but his xight was gone! To the spectators at large, the only thing apparent was that Merle Ren- ton had gotten to his feet and that e was apparently dizzy or confused by the force of the knockdown. Spike Kennelly, with his remalning strength and speed, flashed in. Then, a8 he bored in at his stumbling grop- ing antagonist, he caught a distinct view of the staring and sightless eyes. As a lad, back in New Zealand, Sptke had spent a year as handy man in en asylum for the blind. Nobody with such experience could misread that awesome blank look. And, im- méediately, Splke knew what had be- gallen bis foe. LI champlonship was his! But he must act before the referee should #iscover the nature of Renton's mis- $ap and stop the bout. Scarce a sec- 904 bad passed since Kennelly had @eon and recognised that sightless #lare. Scarce three seconds had pass- #inoe Merle had risen so wavering- 7y to his feet. There wes no time to waste. Setting himself, deliberately, Spike XKegnelly struck ‘with all his trained #kill and with evers atom of his force mnd weight. the referce was {be time enough to send for Doc | vously, “and break it to the wife- on Him. Down went Meris Renton, face for- ward. Slowly, from a billion miles away, Merle Renton crawled back to con- sclousness, His head was racked and rent with intolerable torment. His mind Was as blank as were his shut and quivering eyes. His first semi- clear impression was the sound of Constantin’s voice chanting: “TEN!" In & rush, memory came back to Merle. Kor the first time in his clean ring ca: he shammed. He con- tinued to lle, in seeming unconscious- ness, while his seconds lifted him and carried him to his corner and wrought over him. The arena was rocking with the Dplaudits of the crowd. It had been a &ood fight, with a charmingly unex- pected twiat at the end and a sensa- tional knockout. Presently, Merle heard Brace, his manager, tell the seconds to carry him to his dressing room. As he was laid on the table, Merle whispered his manager’s name. Instantly Brace was leaning over him. “You're all right, now, old man!” Brace sald cheerily. “Don't try to get up vet. We'll—" “Send all the others out!" Merle. Wondering, Brace obeyed. “They're all gone” he reported, coming back to the table. “What did you want to say to me? | For answer, Merle Renton opened his sightless eves. They looked un- seeingly past Brace. For a moment, the manager stared bewildered, into the blank orbs. Then he cried out, as in physical patn. *No!" he yelled. “No! Good Heaven, man! It can’t be you're— “I'm blind,” Renton made simple reply. “I'm blind. He heeled me in the instep, in that last clinch. I was too sick to block his swing, as we came out of it. He got me between the eyes. And it put my sight out of business. Then he knocked me out.” “The filthy swine! roared Brace, half blubbering. “I'll murder him for this—if I go to.the chair for it! Wait! I'm going to send for the best doctor in town. For all the doctors in town! I'm—" “Come back!" ordered Merle, glow- ering in his general direction, “Come back here! You'll stay where you are. I'm not going to have a lot of doctors running here, and have the whole atory get around town and be in every paper tomorrow. I mever yet squealed or made excuses. And I'm not going to begin now. 4 “But, man—!" "“Get me home!” ordered Kenton; “get me home in a rush. Don't tell any of the boys about it. Say I'm too groggy to walk alone, and kind of steer me to the taxi. Get me home and away from the bunch. Then it'll panted 4 =—alh Meagher.” Nor could Brace move him from his | sullen resolve, In the cab, on the way | to Renton’s flat, Merle explained, “if ever 1 get my eyes back, I'll pay the bill I owe Kennelly. If I don't get ‘em back, I'm not letting any one else pay it for me. I—I kind of hate to talk tonight. Y guess I'd rather we didn’t say anything more, just now. I got too much to look forward to. And then, there's—there's Lind: “If-you'd llke me to go upstalrs, ahead of you,” suggested Brace, ner- *“No,” refused IMerle. “Linda don't belong to the snivelly bmeed that has to have rotten news ‘broke’ to ‘em, If I can stand this, she can. And like- wise she will. And she'll help me.” | * % & % | HE rest of the drive was made in | silence. The taxi stopped in front of a flat-house. On the steps stood a woman and a man. The woman was Renton’s wife, the man a doctor for whom Brace had tele- phoned as they left the clubhouse. Linda did not scream or have hys- terics. She took Merle's groping hande in her own firm grasp. as Ren- ton stepped blunderingly out of the taxicab. ~ Then, with Dr. Meagher on his other side and with Brace miser- ably following, she led him into the house and up to the 1lttle flat that was their home. It was not wntil Dr. Meagher had made every possible examination un- der the circumstances and had de- parted, promising to call early in the morning with a great speclalist of his scquaintance—it was not until Brace had wrung Merle's hand and.Linda’s and stamped away in Meagher's wake—it was not until she and her stricken husband were alone to- gether {n their living room that Linda let herself go. ‘Then, gathering the blind head in her arms, she strained it close to her breast, murmuring love words of en- couragement; crooning to the sufferer a8 to a sick child. “Oh, girl of mine!™ Merle muttered chokingly, “Girl, dear, what'm I go- ing to do7T" " “It'y going to be all right, dearie,” she soothed. * “It's going to be all right. We got along when we were 80 dead broke. And we got on when ~—when baby dled. We can get on, now. Because we're together. You've got my eyes to see with and my hands to work for you. And—and I'm prouder of you, for the way you're taking this, than if you won every fight in a single punch.” “What'd I ever do to have this wished on me?” Merle groaned. “I've plpyed square. You know I have, girl. I've done what I could to be a white man. Sometirhes I've fell short, but I've kept on trying. And now, what do I'get? 1 get this—" “It {sn't what you may or may not be getting, this minute, that counts,” she broke in, tenderly. “You've been squgre. And -you've always won & way through everything that's been stacked against you. And, somehow or other, you'rs always going to. I don't know how. But you are. No- body can play the life game as square and as helpful as you play it with- out winning out at last. See if you don't!™ “I'm a big daby to whine,” he broke out, almost fiercely. “You're right. We're going to face it together. We'll go through it, somehow or other.” He let his te: body relax, sinking back®on the couch where Linda had seated him. She curled up on the floor at his side, her fingers roam!: through’ the damp hair of his brow, SPIKE BROUGHT DOWN HIS HEEL WITH ALL HIS STRENGTH ON:MERLE'S INSTEP. her soft voice taking up & drowsy song. g Unknown to Merle, his wife had switched off the living room lights. It was as though Linda did not wish to use a faculty the blind man could not share. The sedative the doctor had given Merle was beginning to take hold. His breathing grew calmer. His mus- cles lost their spasmodic rigidity. Gradually, as she sang and smoothed, he drifted to sleep. Untll gray dawn the woman con- tinued her loving vigil. Then she, too, fell asleep, worn out by the night's strain. Her head on Renton's knee, she slept upon the floor beside the couch, as the dim light waxed clearer and as the city’s noises began in the street outside. * * \ ERLE RENTON awoke, stupidly, 1 his mind heavy from the drug and from the exhaustion of the even- ing before. Idly, through half-shut lids, he watched the play of,morning sunshine on the window box of red geraniums. Then, half-consciously, he realized he was on the couch and dressed, and not in bed. This did not surprise him. _— amused tolerance. friendly derision died out of thelr |faces. In Merle's dawned a wonder, | |tinged with disapproval. In Brace's | Etho wonder was augmented by pure | delight. As she paused, the manager | gave a great shout, and pummeled the inoffensive table-top { “Great!” he exulted. “Fine and gaudy! And it took a woman to] {think of ft! It—* i “Not a woman,” corrected Linda. “A | wife. Can it be worked on, the way | I said?” she finished, anxiously. | * echoed the jubllant Brace. | an it? Why, it's a bird! I wouldn't| miss it for a—-—" “I don't like it. comfortably. right. It—" i “Why don't it?" challenged Brace. | “It's dead square. I'm your manager. | And I say: Go to it!” sted Merle, I objected Merle, un- | “Tt doesn’t seem Just| don't to demanded Linda. | | “Last night, I told you I'd be eyes and | |hands to you. Let me be brains for | you, now. All you've got to do is to! fight, when the time comes. Just the| way you always fight. Besides, you| afresh. At first the men Iistened with |to pump the surly manager as to Ren- ! dumbtounded Kennelly. But, gradually, the | ton's true condition.- By dint of clever eross-questioning, he elicited from the reluctant Brace the news that Renton’s prospects were gravely pre- carious; and that it would be a miracle it ever again he were able to see. Brace had arranged this inter- view, for his own esthetic pleasure; and without conferring with Linda. But it had a desired effect. A return match with a m Merle's prowees was the very thing Kennelly desired. With Renton out of the way, that danger was past. Splke could have all the fun and ail the loafing he wanted. Afterward, for a goodly n of ast while, he could either avoid the bother | of fighting or could rake in easy money by means of “set-ups.” But, a month later, the porting pages contained announcement that| Merle had come home, apparently cured of his malady. Reporters who had interviewed him declared his eyes showed no visible sign of his late blindness; and that he was curtly un- communicative about ft. In another three days, the sporting world was happily interested in read- ing that Brace had issued a challenge Often when he came in very late at|®aid once I was the squarest girl you|to Kennelly, in Merle's name, for a night he would camp on the couch !ever knew. Can't you still trust me to ! return battle sooner than risk waking Linda. He must have been out late, Where |b2t, in a ball game. But one would | Sptke Kennelly. And, in his shifty| { had he been? He began to remember. The fight—the foul blow—his blind- ness——! His blindne: Surely that part of it some grotesque nightmare! vision was as clear as ever it had been. To test it, he focused his eyes on one obfect after another in the pretty room. The geraniums in the window box, the filmy white curtains blowing in the morning breeze, a basketful of many-colored fabrics on Linda's sewing table. His glance fell the sun-kissed For his on hair of the dainty head that rested| on his knee. At the same moment, Linda’ woke. She sat up, wide-eyed and wondering. Then memory rushed ' clouding ‘them | into her big with black sorrow. “Linda!” exclaimed Merlie. “It's all right, girl. It didn’t happen. Or if 1t did it's gone.” Long &nd amazedly, she peered at him. Then, for five hysterical min- utes she proceeded to g0 to pieces. She was still snuggled close in Merle’s comforting armsand recover- ing from her cry, when Dr. Meagher arrived at the flat; the specialist with him. Followed much examining and many tests and cross-questions. The spe- clalist seemed to find nothing mirac- ulous in the recovery. The same thing, he sald in effect, had happened several times in the course of his own medical experience, A shock, coming upon a system whose nerves were drawn taut by paln or strain, and whose blood-vessels were engorged from violent exercise, might manifest itself in any of & hundred Wways. One of thess ways was a tem- porary paralysis of the brain-cells governing sight. The optic nerve had not been affect- ed. There was no reason to expect any return of the blindness. After the two doctors had gone, husband and wife went together to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. While they ate, Brace appeared. ‘When the triplo gabbling had ex- hausted itself and Brace was tired of thumping Merle on the back and yelling incoherently affectionate in- sults at him, Linda said, quletly: “Mr. Brace, you've been the boy's only manager since he went into the ring. But now you're going to have & partner and the partner's name is Linda Renton. I—I kept thinking of a wonderful scheme, last night, when I was trying to keep Merle asleep. It seemed impossible then; for I didn't dare let myself get to hoplng he'd ever be well. But—he is well. Want to hear it?” 5 “Fire away! scenting a joke. N she corrected him. “I'm in earnest. 1 want to go partners with Mr. Brace in managing your next fight. We've been 8o sure of winning last night's! And the winners end of the purse was going to pay for that hotel, back home, and for getting it started all nice. But there wasn't any ‘winner's end’ to that purse for us. Well, th 's going to be, for the next fight.” 5 “I dom't quite get you,” Brace. “Of course—t commanded Merle, Drawing a long breath: she.yegan! had been | be? One doesn't hit a friend with & | Everybody was pleased — except “Why,it's bim that won't leave me alone! Hero he | goes and chailenges me, and—" “That's just it!" she cried, choking- “That's the terrible part of it. He ists on doing it. My only hope was to come and throw myself on your mercy. I “H'm,” grunted Spike. scared of me as all that?" “He {su't ecared of anybody,” she retorted. “That's the trouble, Mr. Kennelly, T've no right to tell my husband's secrets. And I won't. So |I'm going to tell you just a falry | story: and you can believe it or not |as you like. For all you know, I {may be making it up—for fun,” she explained, choking back a sob and shaking all over. | * ¥ ¥ % | €6, NCE there was a man,” she con- i tinued, brokenly. “I don't eay | he was my husband or that thls is & | true story. It isn't. It's a fairy story. {I'm not telling any secrets. There ! was a man. And he got into a fight. | And somehow it made him blind. | And somehow, it made him blind. Then, after a while the doctors were able to cure him. But that blow had | done something awful to his head. I | don’t know the Latin name for it." “Hey?" iinterest. “What's that?' “The doctors sald If ever he should 1y “Is he as use a bat to smash a snake—and Le | brain, Spike began to cast about for | get a hard blow on the to¥ of the dead right in doing it | nelly isn't a snake. I never heard of | lone. So—" “But— 50 that's settled.” she finished ser-| enely. “Now, Mr, Brace, will you go ! shead and make the arrangements? I'll answer for Merle. The more he| thinkse of it, the more he'll know I'm| UNDER THE DOCTOR'S ORDERS, postponing indefinitely the fight. He formidable an opponent as Renton. Then, one day, as he was sallylng forth for his usual afternoon prome- nade, & young and decidedly pretty woman accosted him. Spike smiled THE RECENT CHAMPION HAD BEEN PACKED OFF TO A SANITARIUM. right. And, when it's over we'll start that hatel. There's a barrel of money in the right sort of hotel, back home. And we're going to run the right sort. How long do you suppose the whole thing will take, Mr. Brace? The other. Not the hotel.” * ok k% HE sporting pages of the various papers, next day, announced that Merle Renton's eyes had been badly injured in the fight with Kennelly; that complete blindness had set In, and that, under the doctor’s orders, the recent ex-welterweight champion had been packed off to a sanitarium; where, it was hoped, his damaged sight might in time be restored. Kennelly read the reports; and he smiled broadly. To him it seemed a delighttul joke. Just then he was re- veling In the glory and publicity and full pockets that go with a new-won champlonship. Everything in life seemed, for the moment, either en- thralling or amusing. Chancing to meet Brace in a sport- ing hostelfy. Spike proceeded artfully | patronizingly. But the woman's first few hurried sentences changed his smirk of gratification to a scowl of bewilderment. “Mr. Kennelly,” she said, speaking very fast and with evident nervous- ness. “You don't know me. I am Linda Renton, Merle Renton's wife. I have been waiting to speak to you. It's terribly important. Can I walk a little way with you?" Her agitation and the stark plead- ing In her upraised face had a silenc- ing effect on Spike's usually too- ready tongue. Nodding confusedly. he let her fall into step beside him. “I—I don't want to be seen with you,” sald Linda, with an apprehen- sive glance up and down the street. “So I'll be as quick as I can. Mr. Kennelly, my husband has just chal- lenged you. Please—I—I'm beg: 8Ing you—please—don't accept. Don't fight him. I beg you not to. There must be plenty of other men for you to fight. Leave my husband alone. Oh, pleage!™ ' “Leave alone” gobbled . the L) If Spike Ken- | means of refusing or in any event of | head it would do something to thel nerve centers thege; and make him | was not ready to hazard his month-|stone blind, for life. This next time | old champlonehip; least ot all to so | there'd be no cure. The minute his | head s hit hard, on top, hell be blinded forever. I—" | "Gee!" bleatea Kennell | the core. *“Mind you, I don't say that's a true story,” she added, tremblingly. ‘“No- body can say I betray my husband's secrets. KEspecially when I swore I'd never tell. But it can’t do agy harm to tell vou just a falry story, can it? Well; if that man as going Into a BY 0. B. WEARLEY. T is the distinction and the good fortune of the United States to possess it. but probably not one person in ten knows the value of our oyster industry. It s conducted in every seaport state, from Cape Cod to the Rio Grande and from Puget sound to San Francisco. Records of our Department of Commerce show that the oyster industry ylelds annu- ally about 115,000 tons of food as prepared for consumption, an equiva~ {lent of 400.000 dressed stgers. The industry employs about 67,000 per- sons. The product, as it comes from ! the water, is estimated by the bureau of fisheries at $15,000,000 annually. | These estimates were made a few ! years ago when oysters were plentiful |and prices lower. There are other | fishertes which possibly exceed it in value, but in such cases much labor and material and s heavy investment of capital have been concerned in | manufacturing operation, to prepare | the products for the consumers. For instance, in the canned salmoen indus- try on the Pacific coast and the Amer- fcan fisheries for codfish on the At- lantie coast. But the most valuable and economical fisheries are those furnishing oysters. In Europe and other countries the oyster ix and has been a luxury. Oysters In infancy swim freely, though they are feeble, and before the oyster settles down it may wander far from its original locality. The embryo oyster, which forms after the egg 1s discharged into the water by the mother oyster, 18 5o small as to be just visible to the unaided human eye. After a brief carcer of travel a tiny shell begins to form, and as the burden of this increases a change of habit comes. The little oyster must attach itself to a support and settle down. This necessity brings one of the gravest crises of fts life, and most of the bottoms over which it has been swimming are muddy. Shelle and gravel and similar bodies, If not submerged under the mud, present & surface sufficlently firm and clean to serve the little oyster's purpose. The more fortunate ones oement their shells to such objects and grow dnd henoeforth remain where they fall unless displaced by some external force Those that do mot become o exclaimed Spike, in sudden | ALBERT PAYSON fight, wouldn't his wife want to go to the other man and beg him on her knees not to fight him? Wouldn't she? Merle says nobody tries to hit the other fellow on the top of the head in a fight. But I'm sure it might happen, by accident. And then—oh, promise me you won’t fight him, Mr. Kennelly.” “K14,” declaimed the chasmpion, re-. sisting a wild impluse to throw his hat in the air and to cheer. “Kid, T get you. Don’t worry. I get you. Fight's oft.” i | "As soon as he could break away |from Linda’s effusive thanks Ken- | nelly abandoned his promenads and iwant at top speed to the nearest ! telephone booth. Calling up his manager, lie bade up with Brace, instantly, for the fight; and to try to place a side bet | with the Renton manager for as big {a sum as he could wheedle the latter into accepting. Also, he decreed that the matter of Spike’s “champlonship share” of 66 per cent, of the gate, win, or loss, be walved; if Brace ehould argue the point too hotly. The manager, fearing lest the money-worshiping Kennelly had lost | his mind, came Botfooting to Spike's hotel for further information. But, in !a half-hour mors, he hurrted even | more raptdily in quest of Brace. | That night there was joy in the | Renton flat. Brace came in late with ews that the {drawn up in record time and signed; | and that Kennelly’s manager had not only walved every moot point, but had agreed to every proviso suggest- ed; agd had practically forced a stu- pendous si@e-bet on .the rapturous « Brace. ! “I—T knew he'd do it said Linda [ with = little shudder. “I knew it! !And yet, it dldn’t seem to me any human could do such a thing. To win a handful of money and a wretch- ed fight, he'd actually blind a fellow- man for the Iife in cold blocd. And he'd rob that man still further by a side-bet. He'd trade on an appeal ke mine, too! Oh, Merle, T want you to do_all eorts of things to him, {in the ring! “He's put himselt outside the wWhite- man line.” “And, mind you!” spoke up Linda, carnestly. “I didn’t tell him a lie. Not one single lle. I kept saying it was & falry story. And then he promised me to let me off. And, the moment my back was turned—" “I know,” sald Merle. “That wasn't on the free list, either. Tomorrow morning 1 start training. Only—I wish you'd kept out of it girl. “If I had," she countered, nelly'd have kept out of it, too. I had to. I didnt like doing it, any more {than you liked having me do it:" | JFive weeks later—on Thanksgiving Eve—the Sestus Club’s peachbasket “Ken- and to the roof. Spike Kennelly had a busy and happy five weeks. He had trained, it it true; but not In the grillingly dras- tic fashion that had marked his earlier fight-preparations. BRI BLOW on the crown of the head is one the easiest to deliver. It can be landed as an opponent rushes, head down. It can be struck uner- ringly as an adversary runs into a clinch or emerges from one. It Is a useless and silly blow. The top of {the normal human head is fairly im- pervious to a smash from padded Ifist. There is far more danger of breaking the bones in the fist that deals such a blow. Wherefore, many boxers purposely oppose their head- crowns to a punch; in the hope of crippling their adversaries. Berenely sure that he could hit the top of Merle's head Wwith staggering force, any time he might choose to, Kennelly. proceeded td ‘increase his own chanoes of ‘wealth. Scrapping | togetter every at¥ailabls dollar of his it 8 necessary for the female oyster to produce millions of éggs, and her kind shall not disappear from the wa- terk. . Practfcally * any - hard-surface objects - falliag'- into the - water, if they de.not become engulfed in the mud, become coated with a growth of oysters. - During the time'the infant oyster attaches itself to an object and grad- ually becomes market size—between |three and four years—its struggles with its kind as man struggles with man for room to grow and enough to eat, and though the struggle is passive, it is relentless. The loser, unable to run away, is starved or stifled through lack of room in which ‘lo open its shell for food and oxygen. | The waste of the solls‘washed by the comes back indirectly through the marine plants that are nourished by the fertilizing salts and fed on by the oyster. If food be abundant,and the oyster beds are not crowded the oyster becomes fat, lucious and ten- der. oysters into fragments between their teeth, which are arranged llke a cob- blestone pavement, and suck the sub- been grown up. Starfish often ap- pear in great achools and by the mus. cular force of their arms, equipped with’ rows of suckers, rend open the shells and absorb the oysters. drill a little submafne snall uses is a rough tongue-like rasp and, boring a smooth round hole through the helpless oyster shell, it inserts its snout and licks up the meat. Oygters will not live in fresh water. 5 Oysters in creeks, rivers or coves where fresh water flows in and makes the water brackish, as 2 usual thing are fat, but if a lot of rainy weather comes and makes this body of water too tresh, the oysters get 50 fat that they burst their shells and die. ‘Where oysters have lived and died for years and shells have aecumu- lated on this bed, natural rock has formed and there is a firm surface. Around this oyster bed of natural rock there is a very soft, deép, muddy bottom. Dredges are dragged across fhis rock-to catch oysters and shells, and practically everything the dredge that astonished. functionary to sign| fight-papers were | 1 will,” grimly promised Renton. | auditorium was jammed to the doors| rains and’ carried ‘into the water | A school of drumfish may grind ' stance from the particles that have | The | TERHUNE (ring-earnings, ho bet Lalf of this | sum, at approximately even momey, | on kis winning of the fight. The rest, | through commissioners, he placed at 0dds averaging three to one, that he would win it in five rounds or less Seldom had a sporting proposition an | peared safer. ! On the night of the battle the ma | shuffled out of their bathrobes and | came to the center of the ring fer the referee's instruction | The gong rang; and the fight was jon. Spike at once took the aggressive. ! Merle did not follow his usual tactics | of meeting his man, foot to foot. In- | stead, he retreated before the onset: | backing lghtly away; dancing just out of reach; sparring at long range. | And, while he did this, he broke an other ring rule of his, by talking dur | ing a bout. “Spike, my friend,” he said, dis tinctly enough for the pursuing cham | pton to catch every syllable, “sic warned you it was only a fairy story, | —And it was—Anyone but a boob ! would know the top of a man's head has nothing to do with his eves i Hammer me there, all you like | Hammer me there 1l you bredk every bone in both your hands | You're out for a killing, hey? Well { the killlng is due, all right. O {youre tue killee, not the Kille: Watch!” As he spoke, he halted in his ga retreat. Kenneily had just launc a flerce left lead for his jaw. Duck {ing, Merla deliberately took the mighty punch on the crown of his head. Its impact staggered him. But that same impact sent shooting paln< {up Spike's arm and numbed his han to the wrist, Merle danced awa | grinning. | “I keep on seeing, better and | ter, all the time,” he announced, 11t again Tr HEN Merle Benton bagan to fight He assafled his foe, amidships never losing the aggresive. In the fourth round Merle ripped a punishing left-hander to the stomact and was following it with a right to the heart; when, rattled and in ag | Spike dropped his guard to protect h meridian. In mid-air, Renton shifted | the right-hander’s course,and brough it flush to Spike's unguarded jaw. Down went Kennelly, under punch. And down he stayed until the count of mine. Ile nceded the rest | ing space badly. 1a the fifth rour {he was knocked down twice; botl times taking the full count of As he came up for the sixth rou Splke swayed drunkeniy in his walk From the crowd went up the world old meretless shout of blood-lust | “Finish him!" hawled the spectatore Finish the big stiff: Merle, unwearied, v {ergy, went steruly | 8ptke unrested by his minute of sur | cease, strove to leaden arms to | ward off the attack. Into his eyes | leaped craven fear. | Renton checked his own ferociot {advance. He had caught and read {the look In his oppoment’s stricke: {face. Instead of launching the at | tack, he merely thrust forth his righ hand, palm open. Resting the paln on Kennelly's chest, Merle gave gentle push. The New Zealander tot tered backward and sat down hard mid-ring. There he sat w { counted him out, Merle Renton, welterweight chan plon of the east, bent down an picked up the sagging body. He ca ried it to Spike's corner and turned 11t over to the unloving ministrations of the beaten man's handlers. “I'm sorry.” he whispered into th pufted ear, “I'm sorry, old man. If- if a loan will help you. till you ge into your stride agat let me know (Copyright. Al Rights Resegved.) rant witih exn to his wori the refprce Will Oysters Disappear From Menus? attached fall on unsuitable surfaces and perish. This'is onp-reason why comes in contact with is taken up This dredge is pulled to the surface and thrown on the deck of the hoat The oysters are culled from the shells and the shells are thrown overboard agatn. If these shells fall . on the rocks small oysters can catch on then. the following spriug, and if the shell« are thrown on the edge of the rock {and submerged in the mud, they arc gone forever as far as the use for production the following season. The method of catching oysters | few years ago was to use oyster tong: jand sail boats. Now it is gasoline | and steamboats. There are gasoline | winders on these boats, with large heavy dredges which pull the rock all | to pleces. The Inventions have some- | thing to do with decreasing our na | tural beds. The oyster industry | decreasing 50 per cent each year in | the United States, and municipal gov- ernments have awakened to the ad- | vieability of inspection, and there s now exercised a close scrutiny of the sources of oysters brought to marke: or shipped from state to state { Metal Paper. . {JT is reported that lithographesw | here and abroad have for some’ | time been using plated paper instead of thin metal sheets, preferring the former as the paper body gives | soft cushloning effect which cannot be obtained With the solid metal. Fox {this purpose the metal 1s electrd plated on the surface of the paper’ which has first been coated with u* layer of graphite to give it a conduct- ing surface. The principle thus em- ployed is old, but the difficulty has always been that the liquid in the ! plating bath would soak into the pape: and would loosen the metal film from" it even while this was being de- posited. Now the users have learned ' that by first coating the paper with a varnish or lacquer Impervious to mofsture, they can make it immune against the direct action of the liquid, so that the film of metal will cling firmly to it —— in the world 1t h is at reached feet below This great The deepest m Morro Velho, Hrazil. a vertical depth of 6. the surface of the earth. depth s attained not by ome shaft.§ but by a’sités. of. Svei A