Evening Star Newspaper, December 9, 1923, Page 86

2 Sailing Vessel Escapes Cape Horn Peril by Only O This Is the fifth of a series of exceptional articles relating the adventures of Chief Kenlon as a sailor, before he took up the business of fighting fire. In the last installment, which appeared in a recent number, the author told how, after a thrilllng and varied experience at sea, he spent two years on the vessels of the Great Lakes. manning one schooner which nearly capsized from its caking of ice in & winter gale, and, on another occasion, with the rest of the crew, barely escaping with his life from a steamer on which a cargo of oats took fire. Leaving the lakes, young Kenlon sailed on a cat- boat with a companion down the Mississippi to New Orleans. Here he returned to the ocean trade. He was eventually signed up in Liverpool as first mate on an spare spars wera securely lashed and everything humanly possible was done so that the ship would weather Cape Horn without mishap in the stiffest blow. As we got down Into the latitude of the cape the wind veered to the south and moderated sHghtly, ena- bling us to carry royal staysalls and even flylng jib. Under thls canvas our ship put: her lee scuppers into a secthing mass of foam and bowled along like an express train, her cat- head frequently buried In solid green seas. As I have sald before, I was a little anxious at carrying such a press of canvas In a heavy wind. The cap- tain, however, was eager to make & record passage, therefore, his officers were obliged to “carry on. The presentiment which I had oi coming danger would not leave me try as I would to get rid of It. One American full-rigged ship bound for Melbourne, - Australla, and Wellington, New Zealand, where the vovage terminated. Here the marrative is resumed, BY JOHN KENLON. looking about for a ship (at Wellington) ‘I was for- tunate enough to find one that suited my inclinations to a “T." Having made the sary arrangements [ shipped as first| officer on a clipper ship bound for Cape Town. South Africa, calling at the River Platte. We left this port running before a strong southerly gale and carrying | fore, main and mizzen topsails. The | first day out we lo q our ship three hundred mil eriainly splendid go- ing. Bound around Cape Horn, we ex- » ed to str rough weather flnd' therefore it was necessary for us to t out our ship with heavy canvas! &nd new running sear. | Our ship carried three royal yards, | erowned with a skysail yard. | Our topmasts consisted of Georgia | pine, the lower masts being of steel. | Fo. main, mizzen and crossjack | yards were of steel and o also were | all six topsall ds. This splendid | #hip was ht hundred tons burden eel hull and her | 1 as those of any | X { neces | ain twenty-el She had a s were as gracefu The Santa Anna was one of those fast clipper ships, so famous in thef early days, which traded between American and foreign ports, going| around Cape Horn and Cape of Good Hope as part of their regular passage and keeping hedule time, almost 11k road train. The skipper was of the driving calibre, but none the less one of the finest sailors it had ever been my good fortune to meet, We carried as crew of this boat one other mate besides myself, a cook, | steward, boatswain, carpenter, four apprentices and sixteen men before the mast. » I shall never forget the first time the crew was lined up on deck for the usual setting of the watches, which takes place the first day at sea. The men were all assembled before the break of the poop, and 1 have never looked over a smarter lot of young sailors before. Having the port watch I had assigned to me six of the most Interesting characters I had ever sailed with. There was a Liverpool Irishman named Duffy, who besides his Irish ‘rogue, probably inherited, displayed a wealth of Lancashire slang truly amusing. Duffy walked with the swagger of the typleal British sallor, but there was always a story on his tongue that displayed his wealth of Irish humor. Another interesting man was Willlam Fleming, hailing from Dublin, who on this voyage per- formed one of the most remarkable and heroic rescues I have ever seen Other members of this watch were Thomas McCrea of Scotland, George Jackson, a typical London cockney, and two Americans, William Burgess and Frank Ellis, “down east Yan- kees” from the coast of Maine. The first day out the gale held strong, and, though we were carrying considerably more canvas than I thought advisable, the captain decld- ed, at dawn the next day, to set reefed courses and outer jib, Later In the day, on a slight falling of the wind. though It was still strong, the reefs were shaken out and the fore, main and mizzen topgallant sails were set. ‘The ship, under this spread of canvas, ‘with a strong, fair wind, must have presented a splendid spectacle. * ok k% i ¥ two weeks, carrying a press of | canvas, we had put 3,000 miles of | green sea between us and the shores of New Zealand and were hauling to the southward to enable her to “round Cape Horn." The failure on the part of certain “mavigators properly to estimate the | mmount of “southing” they must make | or to take account of the great west. erly gales that blow oft that desolate point of land, together with surface currents, blinding snow storms and other elements of danger, have made Cape Horn or “Cape Stff” a holy ter- ror to seamen. While fairly good weather prevail- ©d we took advantage of it to reover- haul practically cverything aloft. Chafing gear was examined, and new caring and rovings put in from royals to courses. Fore, main and mizzen tacks, shegts and braces were Inspect- ed, and where the slightest defect was found the new replaced the old. All S pgs o 3 {training that Ellis and Burgess had| THE SUNDAY {pulllng so hard at their oars that they could not take the time even to look in the direction of Jackson and Fieming. 1 could see that the two men might go down At any moment It was unnecessary fof me to Eive a single order, my part simply being to steer the boat In the right dircc- “lon. Just as we reached the men hey both disapveared, but fortunates ¥ came to the Surface an instant after. - Floming had succeeded In gettng afternoon as I was walking quletly along the quarterdeck 1 heard a sharp report forward and instantly I kuew | or felt that “it" had happened. I re- celved word that the flying jlb sheet had carried away where the sheet rove through the fair leader at end of the whisker boom. The jib was hauled down and prep- arations made at once to bend and reeve a new sheet. Dufty went out on the jibboom to bend the sheet, while Jackson undertook the difficult Job of reeving it through the block on the end of the port whisker boom. 1 felt in my bones that “something™ | was about to happen, though I could | not tell exactly what; so strong was this Impression that I sent the boat- swain forward to watch the two men ! at thelr work, directing him to be careful in his orders. ! Jackson had about reached the end | of the boom as the ship rose upon the | crest of a sea. As she plunged into the trough, she buried her lee bow ‘n a glant wave. seen that Jackson was missing. Instantly the much dreaded cry n overboard” was raised. For a moment Jackson appeared on the erest of a wave. He saw the ship passing and cried out in a terri- flud tome. Snatching a lite buoy I threw it toward him. The poor fel- low made a desperate grab for it, but missed it. At this moment I was astounded to the lfebuoy around Jackson's body, decurely fitted under his arms. With great difficulty he had managed to kick off his own heavy sea boots and had divested himself of a consider- able part of his clothing. He was see Fleming rush past me and take & flylng leap over the stern of the ship. When I reached the rall he was striking _out toward Jackson, Who was evidently having some difficulty in keeping himself afloat. It s really surprising how few sailors learn to swim, their theory being that it a man falls overboard with all of his heavy gear on and his sea boots, swimming will not help him. While Jackson evidently knew enough to keep himself up, It was quite plain that Fleming was an ex- cellent swimmer, a8 he was seen bat- tling the great s with strong overhand strokes, making his way towards the drowning man. Seconds counted now. overboard! Two men PR MMEDIATE orders were given to put the helm down. The captain rushed on deck and learned at a glance what had happened. The second mate sprang aloft to the miz- zentop to keep the men in the sea located. Jibs came down by the run, royal and topgallant salls were clewed up, staysails hauled down, and topsall yards lowered. Never did a crew work faster or with greater energy. It was man-of-war style, not an error made, not a moment was losf Captain Strong, in the meantime (it there were any meantime) had slaghed the grips on the starboard quarterboat, ripped the boat cover off, and had her ready to be swung out by. the time the mainyard was back and the ship hove-to. The boat was lowered almost in- stantly. McCrea jumped in and took the stroke oar; Duffy, Burgess and Ellls also grabbed their oars, while the writer took the tiller, completing the boat's crew. . As we shoved off from the side of the ship, a glant wave took our little shell up, and the next moment she descended so far into the trough be- tween two great seas that I feit she would never rise out of it again. Nothing but the superb seamanship of these men could have brought her through. They were boatmen as well as seaman, and it was here that the received on the Maine coast came into play. When we rose on the crest of the next wave the second officer, stand- ing in the miszentop, gave us the direction where the two men were battling for life In the angry sea. After pulling for half an hour; dur- ing which it was necessary for ug frequently to get our directions from the ship, we heard a faint cry. In about three-quarters of an hour we could see the two men as they rose and fell on the crest of the waves. A gale had been blowing when we left the ship and the wind seemed to increase as our boat approached the drowning men. The la: ten minutes of our struggle toward these men was one of the most agonizing periods in my life. Every time we rose on a sea the wind was so strong that it al- most turned our boat around in the opposite direction. The m e o+ e e e e . STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, DECEMBER 9, 1923—PART 5. of those rough sallors were 8o over- ome with emotion that they broke down and cried. Jackson was taken aft and put to bed in the mate's cabin, where he recelved every attention to overcome the exhaustion from which he was suffering. Some difficulty was experlenced in hooking the boat tackles in such a after which the jibs were set, throwing the ship's head off; the mainyard was swung around and safl once more made. That night at dinner the men had an extra serving of plum duff, and you can depend upon It that the praises were sung of modest Billy Fleming . . sea, stralts in the hope of beating our way through, making a dash for it when, right in the middle of the straits the wind hauled ahead and we had to turn tail and get out as best we could. There 15 a gigantic cape at the en- trance to La Marie Stralts, known as Cape St. Anthony, probably on ac- count of the temptation which navigator feels to enter the strail and avoid going around Staten ls- land. Unless the strait is entered under most favorable conditions, however, calamity often follows. The shores of Staten lIsland are steep and rugged, with promontories of rock reaching up into the sky, In 3 “THERE STOOD NOTHING BETWEEN US AND DEATH BUT A FEW FRAIL SHEETS OF CANVAS™ still able to keep up, though the gi- gantic breaking seas were certainly trying his strength to the utmost. Jackson, on the other hand, was “all n" * ¥ ¥ ¥ INJOW came the most dangerous part of the rescue, getting the men into the boat. The slightest mistake might capsize the boat, in which case all hands would perish. Here, again, splendid seamanship in handling the small boat in such a sea saved the day. The boat was worked to windward of the men and dropped steadily, back to their position. It took us some time to get Jackson Into the boat, and there was a moment when it seemed as If she would capsize. Fleming was able to help himself in getting Into the boat. ‘We then began the battle back to the ship. It was fifteen minutes after elght bellg, In the first dog watch, when the men fell overboard; night had fallen upon us before we were prepared to turn around. We could see the lights of the ship dimly on the horizon to leeward. The sea had risen in the meantime and the wind had increased In veloe- ity. With two more men In the boat her gunwale was well down and we shipped a couple of seas, which I managed to bail out, in addition to steering the boat. Steadlly dropping down toward the ship, after about two hours we came up on her lee quarter. When those on board the Santa Anna saw that there were six men in the boat a resounding cheer went up-that was certainly a reward for what had been gocomplished. When Fleming stepped aboard he Lat. 55° 58’ 40 S; Long. 67* 16' W— Cape Horn! Those fatal numbers meant o0 much to the seaman of my day bound for the west coast of South America. Truly this name “Cape Horn" has had a sound of terror and yet fascination for centuries. No seaman of my time ever felt that he had earned his salt unless he had vounded the famous cape and been buffeted and sorely tried by the flerce gales and arctic rigors of that notable region. And still in those days there were captains, officers and sallors who looked on Cape Horn as a matter of course and weathered It succesafully year after year, often escaping by the bare skin of their teeth, and yet the next year braving the same dan- gers on the principle that a brave man dies only once, while cowards die daily. * k% B HERE is a small island, twenty miles northwest of Cape Horn— Wollaston 1sland, on which s located what is known as “False Cape Horn, owing to the fact that it much re- sembles the true Cape Horn, and has frequently misled mariners who might have been a little out of their reckoning. To be “a little out in your reckoning” in a place llke Cape Horn has often resulted in fatal disasters to fine ships. An accident at Cape Horn usually results in the loss of all handa, be- cause those gigantic rocks rise up from the bed of the ocean in the form of sheer precipic A ship striking has no chance. Many times during flerce gales ships lie-to for days, often drifting back hundreds of miles, On one voy- certalnly received an ovation. Some |age 1 made we entered La Marie “AT THIS MOMENT, § WAS ASTQUNDED TO some places as high as 3,000 feet. The shore line {s one mass of jagged rocks, lke enormous teeth eroded by the ocean as if for the purpose af crushing the lives of fragile mor- tals who dare these regions. During the winter snow covers the rocky mountains of Staten Island right down to the very water's edge, and the prospect when sailing along this island Is ome of the dreariest possible to imagine. In the dark winter days, with a gale blowing, with the cold below gzero, and enor- mous seas sweeping over a vessel plowing her way along this coast in the face of a driving snowstorm, with a lee ehore waiting to grind you to pleces, the mind of man is truly ap- palle The surface current around Staten Island has enormous speed and at times the land looms upon you as it it were actually moving towards you with the speed of an express train. It is at such moments that all the ,a one and @& three look s0 alike|jpg 5 good hotel,” he sald. resources known to man are em- ployed In the veritable battle for life. The giving away of a sail or a sheet may mean Instant death to all hands. The very points of land, as one approaches Cape Horn, have all re- celved terrifylng and dlsmal names, betokening despair and Indicating former disaster. For instance, there are Last Hope inlet, Desolation Island, Dislocation harbor, Obstina- tion sound, Famine beach, Desert rocks and names of similar repelling character. On this westward passage a series of westerly galea struck us. At the end of three weeks we were farther away from the Horn than we had been the firat time we attempted to approach it Iy g Fire Fighter Gives Further Incidents of His Early Service as a Sailor—Crippled in a Furi- ous Storm—“Cape Stiff” Is the Terror of the Ocean—Magnificent Feat of Daring Described. Battle for Life in Great Seas—Presentiment of Danger Lingers in Mind of One Aboard Craft Before Misfortune Arrives—Personalities in Crew. On reaching latitude 64* 15° 30 south, longitude 71° 30’ 16" west, we encountered a very strong gale, with trequent snow squalls from the south, necessitating a checking in of the and a flattening down ot b Driving along with a beam wind and sea, we felt no anx- fety, as it seemed to us that the wind would hold true. However, as the wind increased it backed around to the southwest and we were compelled to brace the yards sharp up, neces- sitating also a shortening of sall. * %k ¥ N the afternoon of this gale pre- liminary to our rounding Cape Horn the fote and main topgallant sails were reefed and so also werc the main and fore sails. Though were furled, they were left ready to be set should it be necessary, in a moment of danger, to “drag around” the cape. Our position at this particular time was' fraught with danger. So little margin had been Left to get around the cape that the changing of the wind to half a poirtt to the east, or the meeting with an accident, would drive us on the rocks. A gray cloud like a cap hung over Cape Horn Itself and obsoured it from view, the mist and &pray from the beating seas appearing to en- velop it In a sort of shroud. Saflors are Gsually superstitious and, as we were making considerablc leeway and the sea was extremely heavy, our minds were tortured wit. the idea that our fine ship was beiny: dragged to her doom. Capt. Strong stood by the helmsman, his eyes alternately looking at the rock and then at the sails. Cape Horn was now less than a mile distant. There was a low ledge of rocks less than 1,000 feet away, over which we could hear huge breakers roaring and see their spray leaping 100 feet into the afr. It was apparent from the leeway we were making that we would not be able to clear the cape. As a, last desperate effort, we set the mainsall and the fore and main topgallant salls. This gave us more speed, but it was evident to all hands that the masts and rigging were under a strain almost impossible for them to bear. We had reduced our distance from the cape less than five hundred feet when sudenly there was a crack like thunder. The fore topgallant mast had snap- ped! Instantly the order rang out. “Set the foresail!” The crew responded to a man. Without a second's delay the fore- tack was bowsed down and the fore- sheot huuled aft. The rocks which had menaced our side were now less than a hundred feet from us and as the sea broke with @ roar, the “back send” fell in tons upon- our deck. Never in my life had 1 been so close to “Cape Stff” Suddenly the great mass of mist and spray was blown away, and a fitful gleam of moon- light illuminated the giant peak standing up five hundred feet out of | the water and overshadowing our tallest mast as a skyscraper will tower over a shanty. | We could feel in our faces the| whirl of the wind as it eddied from | the face of the rock. 1 * ok ¥ % O word was spoken by any one, sor could uny word be heard in that frightful roar of breakers titat| ne Hundr ed Feet pounded with the sound of Nlagars, literally deafening our ears. There stood nothing between us and death but the few frail feet of canvas hold- Ing the wind like sheets of from. If anything gave way at this cruclal moment our ship would have bee: another numbered among the “mii ing. It was probably not more than five minutes all told during which the ship managed to clear the cape by less than one hundred feet, but it seemed to us like an eternity. As we realized that we were actual- 1y around and out of danger a shout went up from every throat. Duffy, the Irishman, threw his arms around the nearest sallor and shouted: “Ratsy's topsalls did it" meaning that it was the holding of those particular sails that had actually saved the ship and so it was. After clearing the cape we passed Decelt Rocks by a fair margin and, still “close-hauled,” managed to hold our own until the dawn of the next day. The wind now veered around to the southward about three points, and as it moderated siightly we were abls to #o along with a “ramp full” We would have fetched around the end of Staten Island, but as the straits of La Marie were well opened up on our e we decided to go through the strait, fortified by daylight and a strong leading wind. Cape. St. Bar- tholomew was soon abeam, and bowling along we rounded Cape San- tlago, which brought us out into the Atlantic ocean and quite clear of the treacherous rocks which had threat- | ened our existence. When once well out into the At- lantic our ship was eased off a point or two and we began clearing away the wreckage of the fore topgallant and royal masts. As we were bound to the River Platte we decided not to attempt to rig a jury mast until we had come to anchor in the har- bor of Montevideo. (Copyright, 1023.) THRILLS IN A SNOOPOPATHIC YARN Stephen Leacock Asserts Finish Is Hard on Nerves. INE out of ten short stories written in Ameriea are snoopopathic. This 1s a word derived from the Greek— “smoopo”—or if there never was a Greek verb snoopo, at least there ought to have been one—and it means just what it seems to mean. In snoopopathic literature, in order to get its full effect, the writer gen- erally introduces his characters sim- ply as “the man” and “the woman." The man Is always: detailed as if he were a horse. He is said to be “tall, well set up, with straight legs." The woman is always “beautifully groomed” (who these grooms are that do {t, and where they can be hired, I don’t know), and she is said to be “exquisitely gowned." 1 wear a gown myself—at night It {s made of flannel and reaches to my feet, and when I take my candle and go out to the balcony where I sleep, the effect of it on the Whole is not bad. These people I have described—the | man and the woman—the snoopopaths —are, of course, not husband and wife, or brother and sister, or any- thing so simple and old-fashloned as that. She is some one else's wife. She is the wife of the other man. The writer at once puts the two snoopos—the man and the woman— into a frightfully indelicate position. The more indelicate it is the better. Sometimes she gets Into his motor by accident after the theater, or they | both engage the drawing room of a Pullman car by mistake, or else, best of all, he is brought accidentally into her room at a hotel at night. Now, as a matter of fact, in real life there is nothing at all in the sim- ple fact of walking inta the wrong room of a hotel by accldent. You | merely apologize and go out. I had this experience myself only a few days ago. 1 walked Into & lady's room—next door to my ewn. But I stmply said, “Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought this was No. 343." “No." she said, “this is 341." | She did not rise and “confront me, {9s they always do in the snoopopathic {storles. Neither did her eyes flash, |nor her gown cling to her as she |rose. Nor was her gown made of “rich old stuft.”” No, she merely went on reading her new “I must apologize, a little short-sighted, and very often {that T can't tell them apart. I'm | atrai - “Not | evening. “You see," I added, “this room and my own being so alike, and mine | pelng 343 and this being 341, T walked in before I realized that instead of t all,” said the lady. “Good walking into 343 I was walking into 341 * ok k% HE bowed in asilence, without speaking, and I felt that it was now the part of exquisite tact to re- tire quietly without further explana- tlon, or at least with only a few murmured words about the possi- bility of tomorraw being even colder than teday. I did so, and the affair ended with complete savior faire on both sides. But the snoopopaths, man and woman, can't do this sort of thing. As soon as the man comes into the woman's room—before he knows who she 1s, for she has her back to him— he gets Into a condition dear to all snoopopathic readers. His veins simply *“ d” His brain beat against his temples in mad pulsation. His breath ‘came and went in quick, short pants.” (This last might perhaps be done by one of the hotel bellboys, but otherwise 1t 1s hard to imagine) And. the woman—'Noiseless as his step had been she seemed to sense his presence. A Wave seemed to aweep over her——" She turned and rose “fronting him full.” This doesn't mean that he was full when she fronted him. Her gown—but we know about that already. “It was & coward's trick,” she punted. Now the man and the woman €6 through the grand snoopopathic scepe which is so intense that it needs what is really a new kind of language to convey it. “Helene,” he croaked, reaching out his arma—his voice tensed with the imfinity of his desire. 'y “Back,* she iced. And then, “Why have you come here?" she hoarsed What business have you here? one,” he glooped, “none. I have no business.” They stood sensing one another. | “I thought you were in Philadel- phia,” she sald—her gown clinging to every fibre of her as she spoke. | “I was,” he wheezed. “And you left it?" she sharped, her | voice tense. | “1 left | he 3aid, his voice glumping as he spoke. “Need I tell you why?" He had come nearer to her. “No, no," she gurgled. “You left it. It is enough. I can understand” —she looked bravely up at him—"I can understand any man leaving it.” Then as he moved still nearer her there was the sound of a sudden swift step In the corridor. The door opened and there stood before them— the other man, the husband of the woman—Edward Dangerfield. * % k% FTHIS, of course, is the grand 4 snoopopathic climax, when the author gets all three of them—the man, the woman and the woman's husband—in & hotel room at night. But notice what happens. He stood in the opening of the doorway looking at them, a slight smile upon his lips, “Well?" he said. Then he entered the room and stood for a moment quietly looking into the man's face. “So," he sald, “it was you" He walked into the room and laid the light coat that he had been carrying over his arm upon the table. He drew a cigar case from his walistcoat pocket. “Try one of these Havana: sald. Observe the calm of it. This is what the snoopopath loves—no rage, no blustering—calmness, cynicism. He walked over toward the mantel- {piece apd laid his'hat upon it. He| set his boot upon the fender. “It was cold this evening he sald. He walked over to the win- {dow and gazed a moment into the! dark. “This is a mice hotel” he said. (This scene is what the author and | the reader love; they hate to let it| g0. They'd willingly keep the man, walking up and down for hours say- ing “Welll") The man ralsed his head! he “Yes, Then he let his head fall again. This kind of thing goes on until, | if possible, the reader is persnaded ' into thinking that there is nothing| going to happen. Then: “He turned to the woman. ‘Go| in there, he sald, pointing to the |bedroom door. Mechanically she obeyed.” The two men were alone. Dangerfield walked over to the chair where he had thrown his coat. “I bought this coat in St. Louis last fall,” he sald. His voice was quiet, even passionless. Then from pistol ltke the one Dangerfield's hand. And then A loud report, and with a cry, the ery of & woman, one shrill despair- ing cr: Or no, hang it—I can't consent to end up a story in that fashion, with the dead woman prone across the bed, the smoking pistol, with a jewel on the hilt, still clasped in her hand— while the two men gaze down upon her cold face with horror In their eyes. Not a bit. Let's end it like this: A shrill despairing cry, ‘Ed! Charlie! Come in here quick! Hurry The steam coil has blown out & plug Come In here for heaven's sake and fix it " And, indeed, if the reader will look back he will see there is nothing in the dialogue to preclude it. He was misled, that's all. Mrs. Dangerfield had left her husband a few days be- fore—to do some shopping in New York. She thought it mean of him to follow her. And I never said that Mrs. Dangerfield had any connection what- ever with the woman with whom Marsden was in love. Not at all. He knew her, of course, because he came from Brick City. But she had thought he was in Philadelphia, and naturally she was surprised to see him back in New York. That's why she exclaimed ‘Back!" And as a matter of plain fact, you can't pick up a revolver without its pointing somewhere. No one said he meant to fire it. In fact, it the reader will glance back at the dialogue—I know he has no time to, but if he does—he will see that, being something of a enoop- opath himself, he has invented the whole story (Copyright, 1928.) in To Bafile a Flood. NE of the engineering difficulties to be overcome in the construc- tion of irrigation canals is the ero- sion of the ditches where the grade or fail of the ditch is so great as to cause the water to flow swiftly. The prevention of erosion is accom- plished In various ways, such as con- structing a serles of small water- falls or terraces, etc. A novel and apparently effective plan was tried and adopted by one of the engineers of the reclamation service In a project where it was desired to tap one of the big canals and carry the water to a lower level, by embedding boulders in solid concrete. The ditch was built of concrete and in a dis- tance of something over a hundred yards, where it was seen that the flow of the water would be very swift, large rocks, as blg as a man's body, several hundred of them, were buried In the bed of the canal When the cement set th of course, became fixed and immovable, presenting in the aggregate a large surface of resistance to the rushing water when turned Into the ditch, and delivering it with comparatively the pocket of the coat he took a revolver and laid it on the table. Marsden' watched him without a word. o you see Dangerfield. Marsden ralsed his head.for a mo- ment and let it sink. Of course the lgnorant Teader keeps wondering why he doesn't ex- plain. But how can he? What is there to say? He has been ‘found out of his own room at night. The penalty for this in all the ‘snoopo- pathic stories is death. 'When we married,” sald Dange! fleld, glancing at the closed door as he spoke. “I bought this and the mate to it—for her—just the eame, With the monogram on the butt—see! And 1 said to her, ‘If things ever g0 wrong between you and me there s always this way out’" * % * HE 1ifted the pistql from the table, examining its mechanism, He rose and walked across the room till he stood with his back againast the door, the pistol in his hand, its barrel this pistol?’ said little force into the basin below, whence 1t Is led off through another ditgh, To have run this short con- necting ditch on twa levels or with a waterfall at either end would have been @ considerably more expensive method. The plan deyised by the reclamation engineer to retard the unwelcome flow commends itself for its ingenuity as well as for its prac- ticabllity. 0dd Facts About Gold. EW persons are familiar with the real color of gold, because 1t is seldom seen except when heavily al- loyed, a state in which it is much redder than when it {s pure. The purest coins ever made wero the 350 pleces .which were omoe in common use in Callfornia, Their coinage was abandoned because the loss by abrasion waas 8o, great apd because their interior could be bored out-and filled with lead. They were octagonal in shape . and were the most valuable colps ever minted and circulated. All gold is not alike when refined. pointing stralght at Marsden's neart. | sustralian gold is distinctly redder Marsden never moved. Then as the two men faced one another thus, looking into one another's eyes, thelr ears caught a sound froin behind the closed door of the inmer room—a sharp, hard, metallic sound, asif sbme lone in the room within ‘had' ralsed a pistol—a jeweled the hammer of . . than that taken in California. More: over, placer gold is more yellow than that which Is taken from quartz This s ome of the mysteries of metal+ lurgy,” heécause ithe gold in placers cbmes from that which is' i quartzs The gol@ In the Ural mountdins is the reddest in the world.