Evening Star Newspaper, May 17, 1925, Page 80

T HE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, What Penalty Adequately Punishes a Swindler? HE shadows were deepening at the bases of the irregular low cliffs that bounded the | arrnyo en every hand. Bare | red rocks they were, which | during the day had emitted a baking | heat and now still poured out a per- | ceptible radiation into the cooling air. T'he sun was almost gone. Its golden rays still tinted the top of a single veak that could be seen from the level floor between the cliffs, but the littte clump of straggling, parched willows that clustered about the water hole were long since lost in a dusky obscurity. A thin and ragged stream of smoke came feebly from the jagged chimney of the hut. Everything was desola- tion. Even the kindly veil of gather- ing darkness could not hide the dry, starved nature of all the ground within the red stone barrlers. A wagon stood neglected, partly un- loaded. A horse cropped hungrily at the thin vegetation nearest the water- hole. Bits of household furniture were scattered about on the earth—a chair, a bureau, a part of a bed. Darkness had interrupted the process of taking possession. Within the house a woman sat in a rocking chair. She was moving un- sily back and forth, her hands fold- z and unfolding as she waited. She had been crying. Not a young woman, her face was marked by struggles long past and now seemed 1o become older as she contemplated truggles vet ahead. The man stumbled up on the porch, shaking In a_terrible combination of | uncomprehending despair and a chok- | ing, blinding rage that was the more | bitter because helpless. He was a | huge figure of a man. six feet and more, broad of shoulder and with | wiry muscles that stood out like cords. And vet the very distinctn ot his muscles proved that he past his youth, had not the begin ning flecks of gray in his roughened heard told the fact more patently. ilis eves were full of bitterness. He came heavily into the room. the flimsy floor trembling under his welgh We're swindled!” he cried hoarsel. “Eight thousand dollars! All we've —for nothing!” The woman was silent, her hands twisting_and untwisting. Her eyes | were oddly dulled. She had not need- ed to look as closely as the man. The wife of .a_farmer, fighting ever-pres- ent drought, learns much. She Rad seen the ground they had bought and went sick within her. The man had | had to go over every foot, exhaustive I, before he could give up hope. x hundred acres,” said the man, again hoarsely, “and not a drop of Swindled! Fooled We've lost | | JOR 10 vears the man and woman had fought together against bit-| ter want. Barren acres had been built up to a certain fertility by a terrible | struggle. They had been close to starvation that the land might wax fat. And at the end they wanted rest. They were desperately weary of grudging, greedr il They had | dreams of rich « - h, just a little land. but bountiful. The place they had made fertile hid worn them out. They were zrow.az old. and men offered ther what seemed a fortune. Eight thoeind dolla ad sold, and now that $8.000 Juad i en spent for yet more grudging acres. Too much preoccupied with their fight against barrenness to have hecome intent upon the wiles of the world, they had bought what seemed 10 be the place of their dreams. They were shown photographs, and the pho- tographs showed a sparkling stream, winding between willow-lined banks. Fat cattle grazing. Fields that were unculitvated, but yet were thick with lush gr And ‘dull, red sandstone cliffs all about for a background. The man had found the bed of the stream. It was a stretch of wind- smoothed sand. And he had seen where the wollows had been. They were dried and dessicated stumps. | And he had even found the natural, | bubbling pool of cool and mineralized water, coming up from the depths of the earth, that had fed that stream. The pool was now a quiet and turgid pond, perhaps 10 feet by 25. All that | the seller had claimed had once been | true, but now no more. A huge vein was standing out on the | man’s forehead. Black Kkilling wrath | was written on his face. A rumble came from his throat. His eyes roved about tensely. They fell laid against the wall when brought in. | His muscles stiffened. ‘Eight thousand dollars,’ ed, choking upon his rage. swindled. ‘Ample water? ™ He stood up, his muscles out like ropes beneath his skin. I'll give him his chance,” he said, hoarsely. “I'll give him every chance. Rut he lied, and he's got to make his | lie zood.” i His wife his | shoulders, | “You know, Harry.” she said, anx- fously, “we had to work to build up the other place. Maybe this will be | still better, with water. And—and don’t springs get low sometimes, on 1o come out again full once more? Maybe this one- No,” he said, savagely, his volce shaking with a terrible, all-pervading rage. “He said there was ample water | here; why.” he roared. suddenly, “he said that if he were a beef critter he'd ask nothing better than to be pastured on the banks of the stream here. And the stream’s sand! He knew he was Iying!” He paused, and his eves were flaming. “But I shall zive him his chance to make good.” He strode to the door, gazing out at the night that had fallen. It wi glamorous and beautiful. The low cliffs were lurking places of mystery, the starlight softened the ness of the sun-baked earth vlace could have been a pa X with water. But all the water within | many miles was a shallow, turgid pool with a winding, twisting pas- sigeway leading down Into the bowels of the earth, whence the water came. A wild rabbit crept beneath the starveling willows and to the edge of the pond. His Dbig ears alert, he listened. His nostrils twitching, he/ scented the wind. Then, cautiously, | e dipped. his head and drank. The water, cool and dellcious, seeped into | his body. For a space of minutes there was utter silence and no move- ment, save the tiny ripples radiating sway from the rabbit's muzzie. Then sound cut through the night. It was a man’s voice. hoarse and hugely bitter. “Ample wate ically to the skies rabbit e A ony nor rinking. t he secmed hint of danger in the aic. auickly and quietly aw rkness. It i 1 It | | the room, | he growl. | “And tanding put her arms about | " he barked sardon- **Ample water’!” the despulr. to 1 He slipped | ay into the nented 5 fron : hove. A fierce, on sort told me that hole there goes on down like an artesian water maybe got earthquake, somehody told me.” the fact easily enough. rocks were sandstone, all sandstone. But tiny pebbles in the pool, translucent quartz. there was a through & channel of men, deep down in the bowels of the earth, full water, where, all. moisture and coolnes above It the earth gasped in heat and perpetual drought stranger timid| got loosened, plugged it up. pebbles gathered, it don’t flow now. pool bitterly—and raging. his chance to make gooc to him, but if he don't anything about it, are you uncertainl; ! his side “that if he were ask mnothing better than tured on the banks upon a shotgun, |about {and moved uneasi the rocks jumped and wavered and slipped this way and that, sometimes joining in a momentary illusion of amalgamation, then :tieaing away again soundlessly. T glare was terrible, the heat horrliwe, and the silence that of something strangling |in_the choking stiliness of the air. The man was standing by the water hole. a grim figure, listening to another man, who had slipped in furtively. A stolid patient burro flicked its ears lazily as it waited. “Your name's Scarsdale, ain't it?" the stranger began timidly “They told he down in Prentice that you'd bought this place.” ‘The bearded man nodded, staring at the shallow pool of water. “I bought it,” he said “Why The other put out his hand in an appealing gesture. ““You bought it from that—from Mr. Blake. He-—" The stranger looked about, -and lowered his voice. ‘‘He swindied vou, didn't he?” “He lied to me,"” aid the broad man, his voice full of queer muf fled fur; “Yes, he swindled me.” “‘He——swindled me too,"” the visitor said pathetically. I bought 200 acres from him. For dr: arming. I have to haul all my water 4 miles. I've been down in Prentice after sup- Dl harshly. Vhat did you do?” demanded the other, his voice booming. “What did you do to him when he'd swindled you?” The stranger seemed little. ““There wasn't anything to do. He'd heen careful. The 1 his side 1 couldn’t do anything at all.” “Why didn’t you kill him Again the stranger looked cautious- 1y about before replying. “I-—1 thought of it,” he said fidentally, “but he carries two re- volvers. 'And he shoots straight. | thought of it after my wife died. She - sort of drooped when she saw how | we'd been swindled. And I went down to Prentice. But it wouldn't have been any use. The big man moved. His eyes held a certain something that made the other shift uneasily from one foot to the other. “It wouldn't have been any use,” he repeated. “He had the law on his side He was careful about that.” “What do vou know about this demanded the other harshl about this water hole? Isn't igger than this?” " the stranger admitted “It gets a littie larger. I've been here three years, and I've seen it half as big again. ve wished 1 had it on my place. That's when the snow melts the mountains. They tell me there's an underground drainage.” “And it gets smaller, to0?" | “Yes. It does get smaller. It's a of artesian spring. Somebody to shrink a con- | well 500 feet down. up, mostly; and taps the But 1t stopped afier an o | AD they known of such things the two men could have proved The surface | ought | 1p by the current when it was a rush- | ng stream, were granite, and even a | ittle black lava, and here and there No man could tell but that somewhere down in darkness mighty_stream pouring forever unvisited of cool melted snow rughing on some- , while rushing, | “It got stopped repeated the ! o be some rocks way down there, and Or maybe just little or something. But stared at the placid | set in harsh lines he quoted again “I'll_give him Tl give it The big man His face v mple water! The stranger stared, uneasily. “You ain’t thinkin' of tryin’ to do | he asked | “He's the law on got “He sald,” growled the big man. a beef-critter he'd | to be pas of this stream.” His hands twisted, as if aching to be | some on throat. ) he cried suddenly, his pitch, “‘when get voice | to| heaves rising him The in T looked. and blinked, He turned his! head and looked all about him, at the parched and thirsty earth. at the hot rocks, leaping and rippling in the| glare, at the starveling trees and the | lent blistering cliffs all about. “He's goin’ to be by.,” he said con fidentially, “in two or three days more. He's got a big place 40 miles away. A wonderful piace. He's building a dam. Hell go by, down there—and most likely alone.” He pointed, and waited. “I—I ain’t the sort to do any thing,” he said timidly, vet eageriy. “But T thought T'd teli you.” The stranger caught at his burr: stranger kKing as if in an; iistering glare poured down from a | and the earth had shriveled from the The encircling cliffs radiated it hrazen sun, browned and uper-cookery. impounded the heat and t again, unrelieved by any breath wind. Far overhead a tiny dark k soared and circled effortlessl iting for something to die. med that everything was dead al dy. In the valle; Vitle sign of crooped, and sousht wade of tie will SvAILW LU Waale niy. there was The lone hor the insufficient ke house uewy, vl life. w e SWINDLED!™ HE CRIED HOARSELY: “EIGHT THOU- AND DOLLARS! ALl WE'VE GOT - FOR NOTHING." “WERE And | | There leadrope. e started away, hurried- ly. Then he stopped. y 1—I wish somebody would do something,” he sald, with an effect of furtiveness. “I—] 'daren’t. He car- ries two revolvers.” He paused. The big man did not move. ‘“Anyway—I ~1 won't say anything.” He was gone, leading the burro over the unfamiliar ground, then driving 1t before him. Presently the |big man broke off a branch from the |willows_and extracted a knife from his pocket. He whittled the stick to a point with meticulous precision. ‘He shall have every chance,” he mutterred. “Every one.” That night the rabbit came to drink, and shied away from a strange thing he found. It was a little stick, sharpened to a point and driven ac- curatel the edge of the water, to mark the spot. The rabbit drank | stealthily from another than his| He was afrald of the | stick. Somehow, he assoclated it with | the man. The next night the rabbit found | the stick a good three inches from | the water’s edge, though it had not | been moved, and the night after that | it was six inches. By that time,| though, he had come to disregard it P awoke. Little came | There was a | o the | OWLY, the desert furtive squeaking from here and there. tiny rustling as the infrequent crea tures of the night fled, and stranger things of the day awoke Che man waited, grimly. His shot | gun. across his knees, was for a time | uncomfortably cold, then pleasantly | cool, and then unbearubly hot as its blackened bsorbed the sun's heat. if he had not slept He sat W his_eyes fixed upon some spot over the wasteland, the pleture of inexorable patience. | At first it was only the merest haze, | such as might have been the dust | mroused by some vagrant eddy of | wind, but it remained in the one place, | and presently it seemed thicker. | Then it was an indubitable cloud, | which could only come from the hoofs of horses being driven. And then tiny. bobbing specks appeared in the | midst of it. Tt was a team of horses, | hitabed to a buckboard. The man stood up slowly and stiffly. Methodically, he looked to his shotgun, broke it and inspected the shells—buckshot. He replaced them | and slipped off the safety. Then he | stepped out into the middle of the | barely distinguishable trafl. The team was traveling swiftly, and | vet it was a long_time on the way. | Blake was evidently no sparer of rseflesh, because he sent them on | steady trot, without a pause | breath. | Two miles away. mile. | Then half a mile. The nolses Then A quarter. | horses trottes smartly. on—queer af-| ments. fection in the desert. Then the man held out his arm and they drew up in a_smother of dust. “Hello. What's up?” from the seat through the dust followed him. He stiffened he said shortly. “It's Scars What s it?"” you to look at the. place " said the man. harshly is dried up. There's Blake peer ed that Sy dale. “I want vou sold me, “That st m no wate There hasn't been for years,” Blake pleasantly. “That’s why T s it to vou." “I've given you ev the man hoarsely. was ample water. ing to do about it?" “Nothing.” said Blak: dropped inconspicuously A man with a shotgun, butt on the ground. ag: with a_revolver at his hip easy But the shotzun came swiftly. * And Blake, in the act of drawing his own weapon, stiffened were two boxes of dynamite pped behind him for the blasting the dam 40 miles beyond. Any | man may fight a gun duel, but few men wili care for it when there is a case of high explosive close to him | and adding to the target his body of- | fers. Blake went suddenly very pale He had forgotten that. Buckshot will go through flimsy pine hoxes, and dynamite will explode with some vio- | lence. and a man sitting close beside | a two-case lot will be separated into very small pieces when it detonates. Blake sat very still. The shotgun pointed unwaveringly at him. “Throw your guns put,” the bearded man, harshly. He picked them up. His face was calm, full of a set purpose. Only his eyes were smouldering, and into them was coming a strange expression of peace, as if the thing he was about to do had become a thing necessary | beyond debate. “Now drive to the place me. You know the way." | And they came to the narrow open- ing between the low red cliffs. There was an instant's grateful shadow, and then deadly heat smote them once more. The starved, baked earth. The stunted, shriveling willows %y the water-hole. Heat, gathering as if im- »ounded in a pool by the encircling sandstone bluffs. He came to a stop. “You said"—the voice was even | with the inexorable quality of fate it- aid | old | ¢ chance,” said | You said there | What are you go- | His hand to his side. resting its nst a man That was up very | it orderec | you sold | his feet. | man’s face. And then he saw a thing | mind. | of course. self—"that if you were a beef-critter you'd ask nothing better than to be pastured on the banks of this stream. Get down.” x ok x ¥ LOWLY the man in the buck- board descended to the ground— and sprang, with lightning swiftness, his fists flailing. And then there was an impact as the two bodies met. And then, inexorably, two huge hands| fastened upon the smaller man’s | throat. They closed while a vein stood out hugely upon the bearded man's forehead and his eyes glittered in- sanely. There was a choking sound there in the midst of the burning heat and deathly silence, and the sound of cloth tipping. ~The sleeve of the bearded man’s shirt ripped away from his wrists. There was no sound at all for a time, until one of the two men dropped to the earth when the hands released his throat. The big man stood above him, shak- | ing with rage and blood-lust. Then | he stooped and . felt of the other's| heart. He rose again and strode | away. only to return with a long| length of chzin. When he had finkhed his task he bd up and waited, grimly. You lied to me,” came hoarsely | when the prostrate man stirred weakly. I could have killed you, but I shall give you every, chance.” Dulled éyes stared, thdn cleared. | The fallen man put .his hand to his throat. The muscles moved as if he were swallowing painfully. Then he | stirred again and half rose, bracing | himself by a hand in the blistering. | hot sand. | He gazed up_at the implacable fi ure above him. face. “What—what do The bearded man swept out arms in a_convulsive gesture. ou said there was ample water here. You said if you were a beef- critter you'd ask nothing better than to be pastured on the banks of the| stream here. You said water was | worth its welght in gold on ground like thi Slowly | st his the fallen man struggled to A metallic tinkling followed his movements. “All right,” he mumbled. you back your money.” | “You lied to me!" growled the other man fiercely. “You said there was ample water “I'l give it back.” A hand aent again to PBlake's throat. Again the muscles worked., “Glve me a drink and I'll write you a check.” The bearded man’'s eyes were glow- ing. ““Ample water!” he barked hoarsely “Give me ample water to irrigate this land. You lied! Make good your lie! He turned and strode away. And the man who was left fumbled for his check book in his pocket, and seemed to find difficulty in his mov He looked down stupidiy at a chain that was wound about his bod; over and under ‘his arms. round his chest. He took a staggering step and turned at the tinkling that followed it. A serpentine chain trailed behind him to the trunk of a dying willaw, whe it was coiled and doubly stapled fast. Sudden pan shone in the chained “I'll give that drove all other thoughts from his | It was a pool of water, a shal- low, turgid pool of water, that once had been the fountainhead of a rush- ing stream. Stumibling a little, he moved toward it, then was jerked back. He had reached the end of his chain. * xTE % JLATE that night the rabbit came to | drink. He heard a curious, clank- | ing sound and a hoarse whispering. The rabbit was timid, but thirst drove him to the pool—with all due caution, He saw a dark figure mov- ing in the starlight, half-sunken in the dried and powdery sand that had been the stream bed. For a long time the rabbit watched, his big ears alert. But then he crept (o the water's edge and dipped in his muzzle. A stone struck close beside him, and then another, and a man’s voice rose in hysterical cursing. No other creature should drink while he thirst- ed. There was a rain of small stones to enforce the decree, flung by a pant- ing, raging man. The rabbit fled in panic, but he was very thirsty. Toward morning he crept back again. And agaih he was driven away. The morning sun rose upon the arroyo, and the long shadows of the ciiffs retreated to huddle beneath their bases. Slowly the flood of heat accu- mulated and the deadly dazzling glare began. The three horses foraged hun- rily upon the thin herbage near the water holel There were two wagons in the basin now. One was the buck- board. standing where it had been de- serted. the two cases of dynamite still strapped behind the seat. The bearded man came out of the nd went slowly toward the wind-smoothed stream bed. Once he stopped and picked up a bit of the baked earth in his fingers. He crushed and let it trickle slowly to the ground. “He said,” this ground was worth zold.” His prisoner was squatted in a huge hole he had dug with his bare hands down to the damp sand of the old stream bed. But the sand was damp | | he muttered, “water on its weight in | Merely | | i i i | | profit | shower of stones from a frantip, rav. |to the water's edge unobserved. and | suddenly ! might have peen tears, only !and then he spoke without turning his | | head. D. C., MAY 1 J. 7, 1925—PART ",,,// ; N no longer. The continual slow seep. ge -from the pool left an underlayer of moisture for a little distance. was upon that molsture that the wil lows lived, and to which the man i dug. But the sun, striking fiercely, sucked up the dampness almost ns soon as the man’'s hands cleared it. He seized a compacted mass of moist sand in his hand that his skin might | souk in refreshment, and as he held | it it drled, from compactness becaie | . and presently trickled in u of fine grains through his| itted blood-shot, inflamed eves | to the man he had swindled | “I've been reading over a paper.’ said the big man siowly. “It's the | abstract of title to this ground. It tells who's owned this place before | | me.” The man in the sand pit swallowed. | croaked something unintelligible. “You've owned it three times,” the bensded man went on, in his voice all the inexorable quality of fate ftself. “Twice you've sold it, and twice you've bought it back again. And there are two graves up vonder.” | The man in the sand pit croake again, digging for moisture in the powdery stuff below him. “I don't know what happened, but didn’t you sell it for a good price and then buy it back for next to nothing | when they'd gotten discouraged, or died?” i From the pit tortured eyves looked up. The man there licked his lips with a dry and swollen tongue. “T'll buy it back.” he articulated with difficulty. ou ain't like the others. T'll buy it back.’ The big man shook his head delil erately. “I don’t go back on my or lie when I make them. there was ample water here. swindled me, and there are two g up yonder. Where is that water Blake's eves went to the pool with infinite longing. The pool was no ticeably smaller than it had been. “I'll buy it back.” he mumbled. pay you a profit. The bearded man turned away. “Come back,” shrilled Blake denly. “Look! Look!" He held out his cupped hands, full and brimming with gold pieces. “My pay money for the blasting gang.”” he shrilled. “If you're afraid of my giving vou a check and then | stopping it, I'll pay you in gold: 1M pay you gold just to give me back the place and let me zo! I'll pay you a bargains You said You rn heard him and sud The big man’s and full of rage. | “You =old me land to till,” he cried hoarsely, “and yvou sold me ample water. What do I care for profits” What do I want with monev? I want water for the land you've sold me. Ample water!" He strode away, his great hands closing and unclosing convulsively. * % ¥ % AND_then there was silence, while the sun rose higher, and the heat grew greater, and the red cliffs re. flected the heat into the valley £rew ovenlike, all dry earth and sand With a drying pool to taunt the eve. The rabbit came early that night, and was driven away. And it came again, and yet again, and each time a voice was grating ing man drove it back from the kwater. For hours the rabbit tried to creep each time falled. The man in the sand-pit was watching with a strange, insane ferocity. While he thirsted. no other creature should drink, Toward morning strange sounds came from the pit the man had dug. Much of it was unintelligi- ble, but the rest was a succession of cunningly contrived. phrases, put to- gether with a mad, specious clever- ness. It was a rehearsal of argu. ments why his captor should o to the other side of the pool and throw rocks into it, so that the splashes would reach the man in the sand-pit the splashes, nothing more. He could not drink them. he repented | cunningly. They would be dirty wa- | ter, unfit to drink. But it would prove that the whole farm could be | irrigated from the pool. There was | ample yater, only one should stand and le rocks into it, so it woukl l splash And then. at sunrise, the babbling | stopped. The man's eyes were very bright. An expression of | eagerness cume over his face. “Dynamite,” he said raptly. mite! It would splash— He lay quite still, watching the pool. In broad day the rabbit crept down tc the water, driven by intolerable thirst. And stones and small rocks fell all about it, in the chained man’s child-! ish rage. The bearded man stopped outside the door of his house and brushed absent- Iy at some small glistening drops upon his shirt. He was trembling, and in revolt. The droplets were salt. They certatnly they had not come from his eyes. His face set grimly, then softened, “Dyna “All right, then. Pack up. But— his voice rose to the heights. of re- ellion, “he lied to me!” Slowly he went toward his prisoner. The flecked beard rested on his chest Grimness unabated, hatred unap- peased, he stalked toward the man who had swindled him. He carried a | huge pair of wirecutters in one of his great hands. g Tiis prisoner raised his head joyfully at sight of him, and began to speak The big man gazed at him somberly. | I'm going to turn you loose,” he said harshly. “You can thank a wom- an for it, if you like.” Blake coptinued to make uncouth | sounds. His eyes were bright and he waved and gesticulated. He was all | cagerness, all plausibility. Then he | seemed to make a superhuman effort to articulate, despite his roughened, m.ollen tongue. e was horrible to Suiny 2u, wicas eyad, well we o U | between 10 p.m. | ston. hands raw and bleeding from his dig ging in the sand. Tle pointed to the pool and to the buckboard “You said there was ample water sald the big man somberly. “You swindled me. T could have Killed you. I could let you die, now. I wonder why I He fell silent. The thing in the nd pit made sounds with its mouth frantically to be under- ' sa struggling stood Dynamite—Water—Down —Ixplode—Place stopped up. te loosen it. You want me to lower dynamite down the hole there and explode it sald the big man somberly. The thing in the sand pit watched him in terrible, tremulous hope. His speech of release simply had not been understood. The hearded man watched without pity “Is that your way of bringing w ter?’ The bearded m a bitter laugh. “All right It's my place now. You'll never have the chance to swindle another man with it.” the hole Dyna- wife w we ITHIN the house his bezinning to pack. They bound for other acres, other places to begin again the fight they had fought for 10 vears, and won, only for the benefit of the man Iying there in the dried-up stream hed. Ten vears gone! The best of his life— wasted! Beginning old with empty hands— Something of fire came into the hearded man’s eves. Hatred had not bheen appeased by the sufferinz of the man in the sand pit Nothing short of utter destruction could give him peace now. And since he must not destroy the man who had caused it all, who had swindled him of all he possessed. there mizht be some relief in destroving something else His great hands were strangely supple as he benj to his task with grim pleasure. §le took heavy rope and bound the dynamite sticks along its length, padding the first lest they go off too soon He packed them closely A full case he hound along the length of the rope, so thit he had a flexible cartridge 10 feet long And to the uppermost he fastened the fulminate caps. Blake had had all things ready for his blasting. Even coil of wire and batteries were in the buckboard. | Stranglers * % * *ik & “THROW YOUR GUNS OUT,” ORDERED THE BEARDED MAN, HARSHLY, “I GAVE YOU EVERY CHANCE.” & ok * that ripplec soft, cooing were joyful to the earth once pool. and ove stream trickled smoothed sand ancient stream bed drank it up. But tongue of water down toward its reached farther stream had begun The big beside the his hands skin upon Slowly, zrimly, the big man took his strange bomb to the water hole. There was the tubelike orifice, wind- ing down through the rock un- known depths below. Working in a frenzy of destruction nnihilate the thing that had mocked him, he lowered the end of the rope. “While I'm at it. I might blow the whoie place up. harshly. “Then it won't another man The d dynamite, water, but moisture for the whole single sticl required that the fulminate water as well he said mock ancient ch nite was nitroglycerin not designed for use under it would withstand the minutes or more, and mass would off if a were detonated. [t only the wire connections to ap be taped against short-circuit to make the thin fiendishly certain. The spark would set off one stick of explosive and the concussion would ignite the others in turn. The big man looked up laughed again. recklessly, bitterly And he touched the wires. For a space there was dead silence And then there was a deep-throated bellow far below. From the tubelike hole in the sandstone came a column of water, yards high, spouting. roar ina, skyward. It, went up ward aming mass, and came down again a peltin that was only partly divided. masses of water. cubic vards in size fell with mighty crashes upon the parched earth. From the pool arose smoke and nauseous gases and monster bubbles. And then the floy ceased The 1 on his drained feustin ippers he loose the hi prisoner Hoar: something He put the npn He With the coming of came reins into the 1 swindied nis old self the and - Go his that the n house : bi The came to r upor s the It s flowing ind-ble 3id drinkinz The 1 gazing over t Six hundred paradise. His his “Or m where e had be It had bou d be a this.” said booming, “‘water in gold. 1 the } man, was down The. water old stream in the sand pit is and knees naturally to the bed. It formed. momentarily, a tiny stream. perhaps 3 inches deep, at which Blake was lapping like an ani mal. He flung himself down in the water, wallowing. rolling. insane with o The bearded “Ample water! ple water!™ He heard somethinz behind him soft, plasi gurgling sound turned. The rocky bed the old pool was shattered. Great rents and fissures marked the stone. And from those rents and openings water bubbling up. It came up softly, ev ervwhere, but from the gaping hole where the dynamite had been lowere it poured upward in a solid stream of Paris Operate 1 I He luiling, stream found etween its ne 1d hear thir ittle sighs. as the pores of the parche earth sucked it His hands itcl 1 don't waste,” he o liq note rbled He co | red man laughed ' he barked said and Am Jowl i Qitches the dark. ample wate Down by the crept to the ened, and hearc | ter bubbiin u ‘ his muzzle and d drank S0 begir 1 He h: We've st it 1 wild _rabh edge. He li nothing save the And he dipped nk. and In Ways That Baffle Police BY STERLING HEILIG. Paris, May HIS week a farmer’s wite, Mme Roisse, at Puissoux-en-Bray, strangled her husband—he a rong man and she a slender, ¥ woman—with a dish towel and complete ease, in the per fect manner of Pere F nee in- ventor of the art in Paris. : The papers recognize this populariz- ng of the coup de P ancois, here- tofore supposed to be pt. more or less, a trade secret by the specialists, and tell how Mme. Roisse did it as a simple news item. Only one paper gave brief editorial comment. “We knew the coup to be extending to pro- vincial cities. At the hands of pro-| fessionals it is more humane than gun play, but we do not like to see it prac- ticed with passion. Roisse is dead. The farmer's wife operated with passion. There had been money difficulties and daily disputes,” runs the item. “Their life had vecome a_continual | quarrel, the strong man dominating | and wilfully exasperating the fatigued | and nerve-ragged woman to the point | of hysteria. “Yesterday morning, as the farmer | refused to allow their elder daughter to run an errand, Mme. Rotsse slipped up behind . him, passed a discloth around his neck, ahd, putting herself promptly back-to-back with her hus- | band, pulled with equal force on the two ends of the dishcloth, while her self bending forward. The murderess was committed to Beauvais Prison.” €Al readers were supposed to be able to fill in the details between the “‘pass- ing of the foulard” and Mme. Rouisse becoming a murderess—because the thing can kill, although invented ex- pressly not to do so! the of Paris the * % % % 1 night _streets method answers to that of “the strong_arm”—at the hands of opera- tors who are, regularly, not strong. Two nights ago a young soldier, on permission, returning home late, was accosted by a terrified woman. “The stranglers are down there!” she cried. “They have taken my handbag and all my money!" Two policemen coming along, the three men slipped down there without noise. Sure enough, at the corner of the Rue Bellegarde, they came on three individuals ‘“operating” on a rather important bank official. Examined in the morning, all three ranglers were found undersized and weakly. Only one, Lepeltier, aged 27, could claim employment. Recently he had worked as washer in a garage. The two others, a Belgian, aged 37, and a Parisian, aged 32, were proba- bly real strangiers, though gloriously nfit for any strong-arm work. Yet and midnight they had held up four passers:by, whose money, jewelry, pocketbooks, private papers, etc., were still in their. posses- All without physical harm to the victims. Paris also has gunme In police court practice the most re- lentless severity is dealt out to work- ers with revolver or automatic, éven sic jeyes looking at the stars, because his he ck—there’s hold of. and_vou to shoot! The fello unawares, sneaking un st the handkerchief ove turned, quickly, bac | to-back with me. As struggied bent forward. The more he 1 | forward the more it pulled me baci ward, on his own back—by the neck’ It lifted me off my feet, and ali wer black before my eyes. |, He speaks with contemnt man he saw “The party accosted me? He fwent through my pockets withon risk. 1 would compare him to a ceiving teller—after the bank is open I was the bank and the invisible fe low opened my pockets!” He is unjust to the “talker. ccoster, He must stop the and chat with him—knowing 1 | suspected. - He must hold the vic attention. | T tried point. Near the Alma I was introduced | two young men, not working, who h. money and ill-enough reputation. F | vanity. professional or otherwisc |they were willing to pose “the coup {de Pere Francois"—and stipulated for {copies of the photos. { “Everybody knows the trick, {one, with caution as in hart That's the ing to tak see any caught behind. He my head an —even when a chair te zets comparative leniency s the party choked by him so getting his breath back The civic policy of this appeared. 1 think, in the cruel shooting of our friend, Rene Berger, the Teature de- signer for newspapers, as he returned late from work, a month ago. Berger, a married man. making zood money, had often done pictures for me. Knowing his Paris-by-night like the palm of his hand, he would have run from stranglers—after, per- haps. ng a punch at one’s head But he could not accept gunmen seri- ously Berger tried to knock aside the auto. matic pointed at him—he had several thousand francs in his pocket—and was shot in the neck, close to the ca- rotid. He lingered a week in hospital, hav ing time to make a good portrait- sketch of his killer. Then, suddenl the big artery gave way. P - ne me 1 for w vietin msel tim's to met a professional view O wonder the Paris police have a panic determination to stop gun lay by every severity, even to risking arsh measures! un play, should it go on increa ing, would make a hell of the going City of Joyous Nights No wonder, by the same token stranglers get off more easi profit by the fact to continue sling! S “Bring a pant (victim) with Any one charged with hold-up. with | gjlk hat!" exciaimed the other no weapon found upon him but a bik | hravado. (a tall hat makea the oo sllk handkerchief, is received by the|ing of the foulard more difficult.) police commissary, you might s=ay,| “The instantaneous views were ta with a beaming smile in the bushes beside the Grand P: There are more stranglers than gun- | ju. outside the new Word-a I fuex it Bents : { Decorative Arts. Carpenters could | Art has its simplicity. {heard hammering and trucks unload A light step. a ,good eye. a SUIeijng " yet none saw us, and a re hanid; 2 deft-turn ‘ot therbody -and s, oL Lone. SaW me, anda, tew judgment not to pull too hard on the | I WIEDL 85 eAsTy hare tote! man's neck—such are the star stran- | Jo0S > a Elekinhaqu . 3 The victim stipulated, merely, *no; A capable American, experienced y, pe ylled backward too much by and alert, quit a friend’s house off the | ;P D= Thiled backward ido much ba Champs Elysees after midnight, and iy g\ only the party who accosted said that he would find a taxi in stroll- | P& * : party s ing. The stran e strangler slipped up behind, i, He had no fear. He carried a gun, | g jte without sound, from the bushes L, et ety There was a smile on the face At the Round-Point a disreputable | There was < | little man loomed up, and asked the |the tiger | time, very respectfully. He stood there, blocking the way. The American reached promptly for | his revolver, and got it. Only, at the | same moment, a heavy silk handker- | chief was thrown over his head from behind by the real worker of the strangling_combination. He felt himself choking, as he was P! that a Mining for Timve:. MBER mining zoes on in a swamjp not far from Chicago. Seven or eight thousand years ago a terrible storm flattened out a forest of white k. and in the course of centuries the | timber was buried, but preserved by pulled -backward by the neck. The |some chemical agent of the so! more he struggled, the more he was | \While the outer lavers are decayed bent backward, on another man's|the timber is very hard and of an - back, his arms waving helplessly in | quisite color and fetches very high the air, with nothing to take hold of. | prices. He could not see any one to shoot—his Shell Contains Net. LBERT JUARON, French inven tor, has perfected an antl-aircraft shell containing a net, which spreads when the projectile bursts, enveloping the airplane, smashing or stopping the propeller or breaking the wings, thus bringing down the machine. He face was jerked up by that foulard under his chin, pulling him, bending him backward. Then he lost con- sclousness. When he came to, he was resting in the bushes. ~His pockets were empty {and his neck was strained. He never saw the man who did it. when they no more than point the :pen-at a trightened victim. Lo« 51 wilh the foutard” 5 But he describes the operation as he felt it. “I reclined upen that robber’s back intends to sue the Japanese govern ment, which has announced adoption of a similar net shell,