Evening Star Newspaper, October 11, 1925, Page 90

LIVING OR DEAD By AUSTIN P@RKER They Were “Death Defiers”” and Their Motto Was ‘“We Will Try Anything”’ OR the love o’ Mike, what do vou do with your money? demanded Red Luke don't around irls, re not a m’ y luck enough when you're shooting cr with it Ll ind Walking 1 with rum for ps 1wo me What do you d Harry Myric firm of Luke Deflers—Wir 1 and P Specialty. We ‘tner In the ck. “Death Plane Chang- achute ng Our Will Try_Anything’ ifted uneasily and studied that por- of the sands of Long Beach bed in a well-patted cone between ued Red Luke, “if t a new bus, we'vi some money ahead— renting one every time plane-changing stunt got to 1 inste: we've vou go blowing it | * answered Daunt- Myrick in an aggrieved tone. Well, anyhow “Yeh, but vou're busted.” Myrick paused, knocked the tip from the sand cone, | and transformed it with his finger into the crater of a volcano. His large brown eyes, set strangely in a grayish , stared soberly out ‘while he considered tner studied him per- the most extraordi- Red Luke had ever Myrick was about ry n of his face too tightly, like a_drum- hen his jaw was set, as it was at this moment, he seemed to have no lips at all—just a small, stralght crease. And then there were those large, soft brown eyes which, even while making a_ calculating sur- vey of the frame and personal arma- ment of some intended victim of as-| sault and battery, had an air of | dreamy contemplatio T ix he patted the sand heap 1zed out over the ocean, he was | ng that it wasn't fair to the best friend he had in the world, Red Luke, | to be holdi it money that the firm | needed sorely for a new airplane. | * o kX “We Besides being v human being ntered, Harry LL," he began, “It's this way. Back in 1910 I was out In the Straits running a merry-go-round for | the Chinks an’ the Malays with a guy | named Joe Pelly. I picked him up in | Shanghai. I thought he was all right. | Well, we set our show up in a place | led Penang an' I get the fever— ad! The medico savs he guesses I'm | Que to croak, because it's my third| dose of it, y'see? An’ I think so too, | because I'm_pretty sick an’ loose In | the head. So 1 get worrfed about 300 berries I have sewed in the lning ! of my coat an’ I tell Pelly that if check off, the money s his. See? Then I sees a funny look in Pelly's eves, an' right then I know he's crooked.” Harry Myrick's face twisted, and his aead went forward in an ugly venom- ous motlon. His fingers dus into the sand. “An’ I tell that guy Pelly that if he does me dirt, I'll get him—living or dead. Y'see? An’ Pelly throws me down fi Without waiting half an hour to ses whether I'm going to croak, he takes my money an’ sells the merry-go-round to a Chink mer- chant an’ clears out. Say—I didn’t have one chance in a hundred to pull through. But I did! An’ I'll get Joe! Pelly if 1t takes the next hundred | vears!” Me with you, kid!” exclaimed Red. | They were silent for several min- then Red demanded, in quick in appear- | jaround here as a kidnaper at a sult cases ar | carry. Use your bean!” “Yeh, 1 guess you're itted Dauntless Harry My 3ut we ought to have a dog 1 always was crazy about dog: * Kk k K 'HE name of Pelly was rarely men- | tioned during the two years which | followed that conversation at Long | Beach—two years in which the team | ranged from Atlantic to Pacific, north | and south—but there were times when | it seemed to Red Luke that the firm was really Luke, Myrick and Pell; for there was always that invisible presence, eating up its share and more of the profits. Pelly became an iy tion to be tolerated and not discussed. “I've got him!” announced Myrick quietly, the afternoon of their ar- rival at South Haven, where they had | gone to take part in an annual char-| it ircus. He had been at the office the chairman of the perform committee, arranging their program, | and had returned to their hotel room hot-foot. | Red Luke, Interrupted in the act of washing his face, stared at him. “Where?" he demanded. “He's In business here.” Harry My- rick gave a leering grin and nodded toward the central street of South Haven. *Big as life. Some sort o' real estate hold-up. I mighty near| { ran smack Into him as I was leaving { this chairman guy's office in the| bank."” Myrick's volee sank, and his brown eyves glowed with excitement. - ducked an’ he dldn’t see me. I say to the chairman g he's the presi dent o’ the bank—‘Who's that fellow’ His face kind o' turns sour an’ he| says: ‘That's George H. Platt.’ says he. An’ from the way he says it L know that Pelly’s just as popular all the junk we got to ht,” a ck sadl { | | i | mother’s meeting. “Apd you didn't soak him?” asked | Red, aghast. | ak him? Soak him? Say—do you think I been on this guy’s trail| for 12 years just for the fun of past-| ing him in the eye? Listen, Red— if_Pelly was sick, I'd pay his doctor bills just to get him yell.” “Well, what are you going to do?"| demanded Red, giving his face a vio- lent scrub with the towel. | “I don't know yet. Where's Stufty?” | “Down at the fleld.” | Go get him. Bring him up here. | I'll be doing a lot of thinking. I'll get the bright idea.” * ok kK STUFFY JOHNSOX, a big pink-and- white-faced Swede pilot who work- | ed with them whenever their engage- ments called for a third fiver, was in-| dustriously refolding his parachute. The two airplanes had been anchored | against any sudden squall, and a watchman—as per contract—had been | stationed to guard them. Regardless of Pelly and the bills for private detectives who had detected | nothing, the firm had been able to| buy new planes. One of them was a | light, sensative machine which Red| used for acrobatics; the other was a | large piane, with broad wings upon | which Harry Myrick cavorted and | gamboled. The larger machine had an additional advantage; in the body of it there was a compartment in which | they could carry their parachute | packs, luggage and tools. It had been | designed and bullt for the purpose of running whisky over the Mexlcan border to the oil flelds. present when the conflscated plane | was auctioned off, with every cent they could find in the world. For their purposes the machine was | ideal. Besides be'ng a baggage plane, ath: “What's thot got to do with | - money you been spending?” said Harry Myrick apologet!- | v I get some cash I| send it to some private detective birds who are trying to locate this Pelly for me. 1 want to find him. We've, Zot & line on him. le busted out o' the coop in Texas in When I! get through with him, got five re vears to do there. Then they want to talk with him in Kaneas about a swindling job an’ elopin’ with & girl an’ never marrying her. Y'see? | ay—let's walk.” it | beds, like an emaciated Buddha. 1t traveled slowly enough so that audi-! ences could get a good view of Harry Myrick perfe.ming his wing stunts. And the pilot’s seat was far enough back so that Red could watch ev move that his partner made and ma neuver the plane to his greatest ad- vantage. At the forward end of the compartment which had once held whisky they had cut a passenger's seat, which meant two planes for pas- ger work, at $10 a hop. ‘Come on up to the hotel,” Red sald to Stuffy. “Harry’s going to stage a show. Hurry up. It was an hour later when they en- tered_the hotel. Harry seated cross-legged upon one of th He | motioned to them to draw up chairs. ! | City Land Company, George H | president. | men, and | with more vi | for 3 cents before South Haven knew anything about it. One day late in June a full- page advertisement in the local paper announced the advent of ghe Dream Platt, “Own Your Own Summer Home in the Millionalres’ colony! §10 Buys an Option on the Sweetest Lit tle” Summer Home You Ever -Saw! Let Your Children Play on the Beach with the Children of the Rich. You May Not Be a Millionaire in Money, but You and Yours Can in Health and Happines Dream Cit Lawyers summoned oo late to pro- tect the serenity of South Haven re. ported that George H. Platt had ob tained options upon 200 acres of farm ind to the north of the town. That was to be Dream City. It was legal and aboveboard, and other property r didn’t like it, could e 1. Platt off or buy Platt’s_answer wo hundred thousand Think it over, gentle- rapidly, for the price 5 din Each train brought prospective buy- ers, who left the beach strewn with the litter of picnic baskets. lake yourself at home,” tt told them. anced his boys are coming They'll disgorge. _Come to him out. was briefly dollars ct Seorge H. To the man who had a he sald: “The big through all right. Just wait until we p up a couple of frame shantles on | 1-Care avenu Red Luke and Stuffy Johnson paused before the show window of the Dream City Land Company and gazed | at the large brid’s-eye picture, painted “This baby's after big jack, all right,” said Red. “Come on.” They entered the office—walted for a moment until George H. Platt was disengaged. “Mr. Platt,” began Red, “my name's Luke. I'm the pilot who's going to fly for this charity circus. This is my partner, Mr. Myrick." The man’s_evebrows went up at the name. He shook hands. “Any relation to a man I met while T w. ng in the Orient ahout 12 he asked. “His name was Myrick. Came from Nebraska, Johnson, da."” name, family co ‘Just ed and rehearsed recitation of the wonders and glories of aerfal pho- tography. “I can make that bird's- eve thing look like 30 cents . your lots "Il louk like they were right in Duryea’s back yard prints piece every customer an’ where his lot is . . . let 'em take m home an’ show the family $50 for the job, and not one cent less you're absolutely satisfied— Red allowed George H. Platt to hag- gle over the price and bring it down to $25. It had been Harry Myrick's idea to start at the higher figure. “Of course,” concluded Red, “I'll want you to come up with me and give me the lay of the land. We want to do_this job right!” “I'd better send one of my agents. Pretty busy these days. Red shook his head sadly. s “No, that won’t d ou know ho Harry Myrick, not daring to leave show him un- Red Luke| his room for fear that he might, meet | and Harry Myrick were among those | Pelly on the street, was walting for them. . “He fell for it!” announced Red. | “Ten o'clock tomorrow morning.” ERE ONG before the hour of the ap- pointment with Pelly, Red Luke arrived at the fleld, accompanied by a carpenter, to perform a vital operation upon their big plane. The panel be- tween the baggage compartment and the pllot’s cockpit was sawed away, then replaced upon hinges. That ac- ished, the carpenter was dis- ed and Red made several experi- mental trips from the seat, past the control stick, over the rudder bar and into the compartment, where he sat. as though in a packing case, chuc- kling. 1Ty Johnson came just as he was emerging. “Whew! That's a tight fit!" claimed Stuffy. “You can make it, ail right,” Red answered. “You'd better try it a few ex- Millionaires | | gor (han skill, ‘showing | the visionary Summer cottages. | launched forth upon a carefully | | prep: glve one to | right| j of the one Red wore—and climbed to the pilot's st ; then disappeared into the compartment. t sure is a tight fit,” he announced | dubiously, “but I guess I can squeeze through.’ Sure, you can. I'm not worrled | about I'm_thinking that the | bus is going to be darn tailheav We'll make it, though. I dumped | the gas except a half-hour's worth. | There’s Harr: In the small tent which had been set up to hold, their paraphernalia the other two sat watching Harry Myrick while he changed to the close-fitting white suit he used for his wing stunts. t he spread a towel under his chin like a bib, smeared a light coat of cold m over his face, and dusted it with powder. With the sool he darkened the skin ath’s head. emarked Stuffy. looks awful!” “There’s other’s ’ll think so,” Harry inspecting himself in : 1l mirror. “‘Believe me, when I ge imagination going things happen. We better be getting Pelly might show up early. Send that watchman for a package o rettes, Red. This is our party an’ we don’t want nobody else in on it. Through the opening of the com | partment Red peered in at them and | laughed. “You birds stay plastered | up forward, or we'll come down in a | bunch of junk,” he warned. For three-quarters of an hour they at there, cramped, walting. Stuffy’s {legs went to sleep; he developed a crick in his neck; he wanted to smoke. s And bave this bus epouting smoke “That e a steam packet?”” demanded Red. Not a_chance!" f Pelly throws us down,” an- nounced Harry Myrick, “I'll go up an’ wrap his neck right around his ankle Wouldn't it be just like that dirty | pup——" “Shut up!” whispered Red over the | edge of the cockpit. ‘Here he comes! | Swing that door closed!” He ad- | vanced toward the president of the Dream City Land Company. “Howdy, Mr. Pratt? All ready for you.” From | the compartment he thought he heard | a half-suppressed titter. | L ] E mounted to his seat, kicked the door, and said: “Keep qulet, you | fools, we can hear yvou all over the | field’” He gave the starting magneto a whirl and the engine roared; then he went to Pelly and discussed soberly the various angles from which they should shoot pictures. Pelly wanted more than a dozen snapped, so they agreed upon two dozen. It made lit- tle difference, since they had no cam- era aboard. He helped Pelly into the forward seat. Myrick and Johnson, against the panel at the victim's back, were | | remaining silent, but the silence was | so omnious that Red nearly laughed, | land he hid his head behind Pelly | while he fastened the straps. i Pelly, important, cocksure, waved | an impressive farewell to the friends | who had accompanied him to the fleld, and settled his hat more securely upon his head. It was inevitable, of course, | that the hat would be blown off in the | first blast from the propeller, thereby | dimming the impressiveness of the oc- | casion. | Red, in the pllot's seat, pushed | open the door to the baggage com-| partment. Two broad grins answered his own expression. He opened the throttle, Pelly's hat went sailing; | Pelly arms shot up to grab it and were savagely wrenched back in the wind. He turned a_pained, surprised counte. nance upon Red. The big plane, loaded too heavily aft, waddled down the fleld and lifted its tail reluctantly; reluctantly it took to the air and hung there, wavering and gathering speed. At last it com- menced to climb; South Haven and the bare green fields of Dream City | slipped beneath them. Pelly turned inquiringly—motioned, but Ked Luke's eyes were fixed far | ahead of the plane. After several minutes, Red glanced into the com- partment, crooked a finger at Stuffy Johnson, who stifly made his way the door. | IWhen Pelly next glanced about, de- manding with the full force of out- | raged expression where in thunder | Red Luke thought he was going, he discovered the pilot—khaki-clad, black- i = HARRY MYRICK GRINNED AT HIM AND UTTERED A LONG-DRAWN, SEPULCHRAL “HA ... HA ... HA .. “ guess we can get along without a new bus for a while yet. And if those dicks need some more money, I got ebout 600 salted down.” They walked a mile along the beach, glumly silent with their thoughts of Joe Pelly, and settled themselves upon the sand once more. At the edge of the water two boys and an Alredale were romping. “Gosh, I'd like to have a dog!™ served Harry Myrick suddenly. “I ain't had a dog since I was a kid. TWhy not let's get a dog, Red?"” “You crazy little shrimp! We go enough trouble now jumping all over the ¢ountry with pavachute packs an’'und begun operations w full yews ' khaki dying suli—an “DId you tell Stuffy about Pelly?”"|times first. Harry won't have any he asked Red. “I told him all I know.” “That's enough. Now listen—I've thought this thing out. That's the way I do things. Most o’ you gu. 've got a lot of imagination, but it's all in your fists. Mine's in my head! See? Here's the big idea—Pelly probably thinks to this day that I croaked when he left me there in Penang! An’ I told that guy I'd get him, living or dead *x ko EORGF. H. PLATT. nee Pelly, had 1 8 joq h Haven over quietly trouble.. He's such a skinny little runt. How about the helmets?” From his pocket Stuffy produced two light flying helmets of a blatant black-and-white check pattern. “We had a time sewing them. I got the cloth at a store, and then we laid out an old helmet of mine as a pattern. Harry did most of it. He's pretty good.” “You bet he is! Harry c'n do any- thing—sew, cook, fight, fly. BSay, when’s he coming?” “He'll he right along. Sty ook off his ¢ . got into ai exact duplicate* and-white-checked helmet — standing up In his seat, gazing back toward the vanishing site of Dream City. Pelly rose In his seat as far as the straps would allow and yelled. The blast of wind caught his open mouth and strangled him. The plane, apparently unguided, running wild, began to lurch horribly, while the pilot balanced precariousiy in danger of topping overboard. Then the pilot, face hidden, pointed insanely back toward Dream City. “Sit down!"” screamed Pelly into the roar of the engine. “Sit down!" Harry Myrick, ear against the panel, listened, beuming, and nodded to Red “FOR THE LOVE O’ MIKE, WHAT DO YOU DO WITH YOUR MONEY?” DEMANDED RED LUKE. Luke, who was crouched down over the controls, hidden from Pelly’s sight. Red gave Stuffy a jab in the leg with his elbow, yanked the plane about in | another wiid lurch. | Stuffy Johnson, still pointing toward | Dream City, lost his balance and shot out into the immensity of the sky and the plane, losing all semblance | It whip- | lurch upward, whipping Pelly forward | of control lashed furfously. ped about and tumbled and reared | up, dived earthward and took pro-| diglous leaps. * o x K ELLY, transfixed, throat dry and the palms of his hands dripping, grabbed the cowling and whimpered. Had he looked down, he might h: seen Stuffy Johnson's parachute open like a huge white flower against the green of the earth; but there would have been small consolation in that for him—alone in the air, nearly a mile high, riding a pilotless careening runaway airplane. The plane handled more easily now, with Stuffy's 160-0dd pounds over- board. Harry Myrick was making his way aft. He squirmed into the pilot's seat, keeping his head down. Red edged about to the compartment, where he sat humped over in the door. The course of the plane became smoother instantly. and the roar of the motor began to diminish. Harry My- rick’s cadaverous face came up over the windshield. Pelly, terror-stricken, was doubled over in his seat, hands still gripping the cowling. Then, sud denly, the motor was throttled, and Harry Myrick’s voice boomed out re-| sonantly “Joe Pelly!" | Pelly, who had not heard his own name spoken in six vears, turned as though his muscles had become con- | Huven was directly beneath him. gealed. Face twisted, lips parted, he took in that vellowish specter drawn somehow from a grave at Penang— took it In with eyes that were round, stark, unblinking. Harry Myrick grinned at him, and uttered a long-drawn, sepulchral. “Ha ST T e The plane dived, gave a sickenin; in his seat; in the sky Somehow Pelly's confused, battered senses came to realize that South He ok around toward the pilot's nd found there Red ncerned face; that black- nd-white checked helmet which he had seen inched overboard. The roar of the motor died, and the fleld came flooding up beneath them; then the wheels wera bounding along the ground and the tafl-skid was biting into the earth, dragging them to a stop. Two men stepped up to the plane. One of them pulled back his coat and showed a police ge. “Come on, Telly,” he said. e want you.” Pelly struggled in the belt until Red Luke unfastened the catch; then he nd tumbled out into the arms two officers, babbling inco- ti : seemed to #0 kind o’ nuts in the remarked Red. “Acted like he was seeing things. There are some people that just can’t stand flying. But he'll be all right after he's been locked up a while and has a chance to think it over.” Pelly, limp, hlubbering now, pointing skyward. “Up there. . . . up there, I tell you. . Myrick .. . Isaw him, I tell you. . . Up_there! % “That's t lashed about, tormented, dared to seat once Luke’s un wa all right,” sald one of the | men. “You tell the judge about it.| | Come on. ! Red watched them stow him in a | taxi, and remarked over the edge of | the cockpit: “If you want to kiss your | | Uttle playmate good-by, you better hurry.” Nope, Pelly are square. | *x % ' I'r ‘was nearly midnight. Stuffy John- | * son arose and stretched. ‘‘Where |do you think that crazy little runt has gone to, Red?" | " “I dunno. He's all right. ! show up some time tonight. “Well, I'm going to bed. | “Me, too. 'Night." | Red'was awakened by Harry Myrick | shaking him by the shoulder. “‘Wake {up, Red. I got a surprise for vou ' Red mumbled unintelligibly. “V | up, you poor slab-head, I got! Come on, Dooler, get up on | *ha bed 'n’ tell him about it." | A long, warm, wet tongue took a i swipe at Red Luke's face, and he sleepily fought it off. hut the tongue was irrepressible. Red sat up to behold a reddish, blackish mutt puppy facing him. tail thumping the bed. | . “You remember that dav at Long | Beach when I told vou about Pell |demanded dauntless Harry Myrick “Well, 1 got thinkin' about it, an’ | how we were sayin’ that day that we wanted a dog, only we didn't have any place to carry him. Remembe: | _“I didn't want any dog!" responded Red stoutly. The pup pounced upon him with fervid enthusiasm. re vou did!" said Harry. “W [ today I felt =0 darn’ good after cooked Pelly’s hash—"" | “Who cooked it? | “Well—we did. But it was my idea, anyhow. It was my imagination I felt so fine—kind o' like I answered Myrick. ‘Me and | Joe He'll G'night.” | how you' feel when | let me have my pick of everybody in the world. You know ou'Te all stewed y 1 didn’t have even a drink. ts thinking about it, an’ I de clde we got to have a dog. An’ then I found out where the poundmaster lived an’ I went there an’ gave hir: 25 bucks to open the joint up an’ the un clalmed mutts. “You poor sap, you're always blow- ing your money! observed Red, siving the dog a pat and fending off the consequent assault. “Gosh, he's got sharp tecth!” make 1@ other little m nd he Dooley is one mutt!’ That's a fine name for a night nped in even wilder ecstasy He's only 2 pup,” protested Harr: he bottom of the com put in a sheet of glass n look down and And, then, I was ht rig up a littls o’s he could get we're parked. ~That = house.” like that!” answered “We'll rig up the co tment tomo Shut up, Doole; ow the Casket of Father Padifia Rises From Grave Every 20 Years By ALIDA S. MALKUS. | HERE are still miracles and | miracle shrines in this year of grace 1925, and right here in the United States. What do you say to the tradition of a Spanish priest whose body has been rising from the grave every twenty years for the last three centuries? | I had it from old Pere Docher him-| self, gentle, charming little French | priest of Isleta, an Indlan pueblo that nestles in n crook of the Rlo Grande some fifteen miles south of Albuquerque, N. Mex. Father Padilla has to he reburied every twenty years, ten feet deep each time and with great | ceremony, by the church and the In- |y {dians of the pueblo. His narrow coffin lies to the left of the altar, where King Albert of Belglum stood when he visited the place and took mass from Pere Do-| cher. The boards dropped in place | n i iore than likely three hundred and £ wgo. During all these cen- down by word of mouth. There seems to be no written historical reference to it, but that is not strange, for at best there is scant local record of t most picturesque and important period of conquest. It lives in the traditions of a prehistoric people. Finally, in our lifetime, came the voung Franciscan father, Pere Docher, trom the south of France, to take up his charge in that vast domain of the Catholic Church which was then still a part of Mexico. That was a quarter of a century ago. It was more than 19 years ago that ther Padilla’s coffin came up the time. It was observed that the ds above the grave were raised o pressure from beneath. They were removed, and there lay the cof- fin pushing through the earth, the wood at_last beginning to show the | turies the tradition has been handed | l by Pere Docher himself the last time | effects of belng buried all those years. ! the old Spanish padre, saint and martyr came up are once more start- ing. “That is a sign that Padre P dilia is beginning to get restless again. What makes Father Padilla rise? Quien sabe? These nre no ghostly visitations, no haunting appearances around the scene of his martyrdom, but actual appearances in the materi- alized body centuries after his death. What does it mean? Here are the facts of the story as attested by the old Catholic padre and the Indians of the pueblo. Standing within the old, old church, cool as a cave, its twelve-foot walls shutting us away from the dazzling desert heat in which the little In-! dian village fairly shimmered, 1| heard Pere Docher's version. “I had been here hut five or si> years,” sald Father Docher, *wher it came time for the good padre t. rise. I can tell you all about it. Ther« are many things of which I cannot speak, you understand.” He looke. about quickly for a moment. Ther were no_figures lurking within the violent shadows. “But of this I may speak. Every one knows of it. Any one in the pueblo amopg the older men will tell you of it. There are nle)rlny ‘who have seen and remember well."” Father Padilla was one of the early Pranciscans who came with the conquistadores to Spain's new em- pire in the vast southwest. That he came with Onate in 1540 or there- abouts seems probable. That was a hard winter and the Spaniards made the mistake of raiding the friendly In dlan villages which had promised them cloth and skins to repair their tattered clothes, and taking what ever they wanted. A Spanish cap | tain looked too crdently on the wife | of one of the chief men in a village | which had long since crumbled in| ruins. 5 As a result there was trouble with | all the pueblos lying between Acoma, | to the south, and Albuquerque, even | then a flourishing pueblo, to the north. The usually gentle agricultural peo- ple of the pueblos entered on a state | of warfare with the white invaders.' PR | DUR!NG a siege of Isleta, where a | church_had already been bullt, | the good Father Padilla, who was| caring for the wounded and admonish- | ing the Spaniards to peace, was killed. His back was plerced by two In- dian errows. The Spaniards were driven into the church for protection. There, with the help of the friendly Indians who had remained with them, :llley buried Father Padilla beside the tar. The exact date is'flot known, but it was at least three bhundred and The coffin was fore the altar. “I myself opened the coffin, which I do not believe had ever been done hefore,” Father Docher recounted, “washed the face and wounds of the martyr, who appeared at that time very natural, but of course he was muy seco, very dry, and a little bit dusty, also’ somew! I turned the good father over and there in hi the arrows. Here foliowed some gruesome and PERE DOCHER, THE VENERABLE FRENCH PRIEST WHO RE- CEIVED KING ALBERT OF THE BELGIANS AND WHO AT- TESTS IMPLICIT FAITH IN FHE MIRACLE, at withered and brown. | s back were the holes of | lifted out and set be-| INTERIOR OF CHURCH, FATHER PADILLA'S GRAVE AT RIGHT OF THE ALTAR. realistic details which Father Docher will tell you himself if you go out, there and ask him. | They put a new Hid on the coffin, closed it securely and weighted It down with stones. Then they lowered | it into the freshly dug grave by the | side of the altar and boarded it over | securely, “more than ten feet deep.” | And yet today the ground above the 6pot is again rising. The boards of the floor by the altar were decid- | edly uneven when I was there and seemed slightly higher in the center. | |, The Indians themselves have been | | faithful followers of the tenets of the | | Catholic Church, although they have| not discarded the beliefs of their fore- fathers, who sensed the divine power in the forces of nature, and celebrated | the cycle of the seasons, bringing | them seed time and harvest, with rich and solemn ceremony. To them Padre Padilla had become a great saint. Having lost his life | in the mission of converting them, he | had a right to remind them of it. So they had garnished his memory and | his grave through the centuries, ob-! serving his resurrection with awed reverence. And what prosperity his! | presence and devotion had brought | | the pueblo! * ¥ ok X E | 'TRUE enough, Isleta today is one! of the largest and most prosper-| ous of the twenty-odd pueblos of New | Mexico. There are more than a thou- | sand inhabitants in_this_independent | little community, which has flourish- | ed while many of the other native| people about it ‘are dying or have| already vanished. | It lies within the oasis of its green | tlelds besides the Rio Grande like an opalescent jewel at sunset, its creamy | plaster walls glowing in the flaming | light from the West. i The Isletans cultivate their fields, | raise their cpttle, buy autos and sew- | ing machinés, take over the white| © man’s carnivals for a week, reveling | Although th in his fce cream cones and his merry- go-rounds, and hold their ow ance’ dramas—secretly, under a pale moor or by torchlight: openly, through long hours under a whife-hot sut, ncing and chanting through 1 waves for hours without wearving What makes Father Padilla come up? The exact and skeptical sus gests that the sands of th —for the Rio Gr of a mile aw ing have pushed up the sofl where the coffin lies, so that it moved few inches each year. 1In 20 years the 10 feet would bLe cover coffin dld not always appear on exdctly the same annive v _date every time it rose, that wolld be accounted for by the fact that sometimes they had buried it deeper than 10 feet and this last time had weighted it with stones. Sometimes the expectant and devout have even dug down a foot or two to_meet the father. It is true that the Rio Urande through the centuries has spread sand over a radius of perhaps fifty miles as it swung its river bed to and fro, following the course of least resist- ance through the easily eroded adobe sofl. Twenty-five years ago It used to flow a mile distant from the place where it now flows at Albuquerque. But why fs it. then, that the heavy walls of the church, its great fly- ing buttresses, 14 feet thick, have not been stirred, have never cracked or crumbled? Why fs it that the great carved beams raised aloft more than three centuries ago have not been dis- lodged? * “Es un milagro, una maravilla,” a miracle, declares Father Docher calmly. That is his explanation. “Will Father Padilla-rise again? Quien sabe? .But, if we need him, I think yes! If not, it will be because we do not need him now; my peopic ave faithful. There is no trouble any more,