Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, November 11, 1908, Page 8

CHAPTER XXI.—(Continued. faintness passed away again few seconds, and his thoughts to take a more practical turn. med clear to him that if he lay he was—to say nothing of the e had received—he would die of hunger and cold and ex- made a mental picture of the the moor where he lay. He » downs well. He had crossed od them a dozen times 1g the years he had lived at St. out of the track of ave people who might be r stray cattle, and they \ y cross in the daylight, and night not come within half a mile of 1e lay. He was half buried in k of heather, and all around him orse grew: to a height of a cou- He might lie there and re any trace of him was dis- He could hear the wind in the tops of the gorse and yet so sheltered was he arcely fanned his face. whole he thought it was not “The Shadow Between” —— BY = SILAS K. HOCKING. nt place to die in. The soft beneath his head, y swish of the wind was as ing as a lullaby, and in his nos- was a pungent odor of wild and ling. wondered how long he would re- consciousness if he lay there still and made no attempt to ove Then he began to wonder how he had been unconscious, and at hour of the night or morning it If he watched he would see the break sooner or later—that is, posing he remained alive; and if > sun got out it would warm him, and that would be a comfort, for he elt terribly cold. 'The fact that Nev- ins had escaped he did not allow to trouble him very much. He had inter- sted himself more for Esther Maw- sake than for Marion West’s. West he hardly knew, but for r he would dare almost any- discovered after a while that he move his legs and left arm with- « pain. The knife struck down- i, a little below the right shoul- Perhaps if he could keep his rm and shoulder quite still he t in time get on to his feet and got at his pocket handkerchief while and, folding it as well as s able, laid it over the wound. was anxious not to loseany more he could help it. He had lost too mi lready. On the top of f he laid a pair of which he found in his cket, then buttoned his nd ¢ tightly over the pad. The effort warmed him a little, and lso diverted his thoughts. After a while he naged to sit up, keeping his right arm perfectly rigid all the ime. He felt terribly weak and faint. 1 the earth swam and the stars yed hide-and-sceek for several sec- ls; but he bravely held his ground, 1 fought the threatened faintness all the strength of will that he assed. From his sitting posture he was ble to ascertain more clearly his whereabouts. The stars indicated the points of the compass. In the Hast 2 cied he detected the first flush dawn. If so, he must have lain unconscious a good many hours. It w a wonder that he was alive. cl g his eyes, he offered up a fervent prayer for help. It seemed to him that he was entirely beyond the aid of any human power. If help was to reach him it must come from God. Only God knew where he was, knew need. Only God could hear him and delivereance. 2 niled almost uneonsciously as he thought that there was no prayer in the prayer book that just fitted his se. His extremity discovered to him an unsuspected gift of expression. The dawn was climbing rapidly the orn slopes of heaven, when at neth he stood upon his feet. He d to shut his eyes tightly for sev- e moments in order to steady him- sel He would have been glad of any kind of staff just then. Making a rough calculation of the distance he traveled the previous evening before he came up to Nevins, he decided to turn his face to the north. Somewhere in that direction a little farmstead that had been med from the downs. He had noticed it more than once as he had crossed the moor in that direction, and had wondered who. had deemed it worth the toil, and what sort of peo- the could content themselves to live in so lonely a place. The air was quite clear and frosty. The keen wind had driven away the last remnants of yesterday’s fog, and the great stretch of moorland seemed to rise like the rim of a bowl all round him. There was no sign of a human habitation in any direction. His first steps were very feeble and exceedingly slow; but he felt pro- foundly grateful that he was able to walk at all. How long he would be able to keep in a perpendicular posi- tion was a matter of considerable un- certainty. The first half-dozen steps threatened to be the last, but he ained courage and confidence the farther he proceeded. h andkerchie ed gl wa: ] eer A aaa Lifting his eyes at length he saw a thin spiral of smoke ascending into the clear morning sky, but it was so far away that he almost gave up hope of ever reaching it. A bank of earth and stones thrown up from a prospecting pit offered re- lief after a while, and he sat down slowly and cautiously. He felt ill and faint and almost in despair, but after resting a few minutes the faintness passed away again, and his eyes could see clearly once more. Looking round him he discovered a miner’s shovel hilt that had broken off close to the socket and had been discarded. “That will be as good as a pilgrim’s staff,” he said to himself, and he smiled hopefully. It was easier walking now with something to lean on, but his remain- ing strength was ebbing out rapidly. The little farmstead was now well in view, with its low, thatched roof and mud walls, but not a living thing was in sight. He walked no faster than a two-year- old child—scarcely as fast; but the fact that he was able to walk at all kept hope alive in his heart. Again and again his head swam and a mist came up before his eyes. Again and again he prayed for strength that he might hold out a little longer. Once or twice he tried his best to shout for help, but his voice seemed like a faint and distant echo. Steadily the little farmstead drew near, but his sight was dimming fast’ He thought he saw a figure standing in the open door, but his vision was so blurred that he could be sure of nothing. He called for help as well as he could, but he was not sure that any sound escaped his lips. A noise was in his ears like the roar of an angry sea. He made a desperate ef- fort to rum; then the light suddenly faded, and he remembered no more. When next he opened his eyes he was lying in a brake of gorse, with an aged and wrinkled face bending over him. “Be ’ee feeling a bit better now?” the old man was saying, anxiously. . “Where am I?” he asked, feebly. “Oh, yes, I remember. I tried to get to your house.” “Before I could reach ’ee you'd tum- pled down all of a heap; an’ in the middle of the furze, too. Had ’ee got lost?” “T’m very ill,” he gasped; “could you help me into your house and send for a doctor?” The old man looked blank. “My missus is a-settin’ before the fire with asthma,” he answered, slowly, “an’ I’m crippled with the sciatiz, but we'll ’elp ‘ee if we can.” Neither Grayton nor Amos Bilkey could ever quite explain how they got into the house. Amos could only hob- ble at the best of times, and Grayton leaned so heavily on him that he feared again and again he would col- lapse. Susan Bilkey, hearing the shuffle of feet and the murmur of voices, came to the door coughing and gasping, and seeing Grayton, white and ghastly, leaning heavily on the shoulder of her husband, went to the rescue heediess of peril to herself. Grayton fought his weakness with desperate energy. The blood was flowing freely again from the wound in his chest. The pain was almost unbearable. Whether he was walking or crawling, he did not know. Hehad a confused feeling or passing through a low, narrow doorway, and then un- consciousness wrapped him in its folds once more. Susan Bilkey fished out of a cup- board a bottle of smugglers’ brandy with which she moistened Grayton’s lips, and after awhile succeeded in in getting some down his throat. She was so excited that she forgot her asthma and ordered her husband about after a fashion he had not been accustomed to for several years. Be- tween them they got Grayton on to a low bed. After getting off his over- coat, his coat, and his vest, Grayton had spells of semi-consciousness, dur- ing which he wondered greatly what all the fuss was about. He submitted to have his feet rubbed after Amos had divested him of his shoes and stockings, and swallowed without de- mur the warm milk that Mrs. Bilkey insisted on pouring down his throat. After awhile he fell into a doze, and Amos and his wife stood one on each side of the bed and looked first at their patient and then at each other. “Well?” Amos quesitoned at length. He had great faith in his wife, and was far more ready to rely on her judgment than on his own. “He’s nearly bled to death,” she an- swered. “But how did ’ee get stuck? That’s what boggles me.” “We'll have to wait till ’ee recovers a bit.” “Ef ‘ee ever do recover.” . “An’ you'll ’ave to keep on the lookout for somebody to send for a doctor.” i “Ef that. donkey hadn’t strayed away I’d rode myelf.” “But somebody’ll sure to be pahsin’ before the day is out,” she ventured. “Never no knowin’,” he said, scratching his head. “When you don’t want ’em, folks be always passin’. But when you do want ‘em they’re sure to keep out cf the way.” “tt gettin’ about time the doctor was cdllin’ round to see me,” she said, reflectively. “P’r’aps he'll call to- day. raps!” and Amos hobbled off to the door to see if any one wag pass- jing. Rownskilly was four miles from everywhere. The nearest farm house was more than two miles away. The nearest doctor lived at St. Chloe. Amos usually managed to get round the neighborhood on the; back of a donkey. But that sagacious beast had chosen, for reasons best known to himself, to take a holiday. For the last two days Neddy had been off on his own. Amos had caught glimpses of him once or twice away out on the moor, but no persuasiveness in the tone of his master’s voice had in- duced him to come near. : Amos knew that the truant best would return sooner or later. It was not the first time he had taken excur- sions on his own account. When he got hungry or the weather got un- pleasantly bad he would seek again his master’s crib, Meanwhile Amos was a_ prisoner. He was so crippled with rheumatism and sciatica that he could scarcely hobble from one small meadow to an- other. His wife was even worse at walking than he. During the forenoon no one passed within hailing distance, but after din- ner a big lad bore down on Rowns- killy, whistling as he walked. Amos hobbled to meet him, with anxiety written in every line of his withered face. “Billy,” he said, solemnly, “you be just the boy I wanted to see.” Billy looked puzzled, but said noth- ing. “Laast night,” Amos went on, “a man was a’most murdered out on the downs.” “Murdered?” the boy questioned, with wide-open eyes. Amos nodded. “Stuck with a knife, Billy. It’s awful to think of it. You must go in to St. Chloe an’ fetch a po- liceman of The boy turned his eyes in the di- rection indicated and his face fell. To walk to St. Chloe and back was no joke. - “You should have Ned to ride, Billy, but ’ee’s off on his own. So you must run as fast as you can. Fetch a po- liceman an’ a doctor, an’ don’t lose no time over it. You'll be paid well, there ain’t no doubt.” Billy’s eyes sparkled, and his lips broke into a smile. “Tell 'em there’s been murder on Penry Downs,” were Amos’ parting words, and Billy started off on a trot, while Amos hobbled painfully back into the house. CHAPTER XXIil. Hope and Anxiety. The day was declining when Dr. Bell drove up the rutty ill-kept road to Rownskilly, with Billy sitting in state behind. “What a lonely place to live in!” was his reflection as he sprang lightly out of the trap and hur- ried up to the door. Amos met him with a scared and troubled face. “You be the doctor?” he questioned. “Yes.” “He’s in ’ere. ’Ave no policemen— for it’s a clear case of murder.” “Is he dead?” “Not yet. At least, I hope not.” Dr. Bell pushed open the door of the little sleeping room and entered, and as he did so he gave a gasp. It was as he feared. Grayton was the the wounded man. He took no notice whatever of Mrs. Bilkey, but began at once to examine the wound. Grayton appeared to be in a condition of coma. He took no notice of anything. His skim was hot, his pulse rapid, his breathing heavy and labored. Dr. Bell looked grave, but said said nothing. After a few minutes, however, he went out to his coachman and told him to drive at once to Clig- ger and fetch Dr. Bray and a nurse: then he went quietly back to the bed side of his patient. (To Be Continued.) EGGS AND THE HEN WE SING. An Annual American Omelet as Big as Manhattan Island. Let us sing the praise of the great American hen, who during the last year may well have cackled with | pride over the production of nearly 1,300,000,000 dozens of eggs. Do you realize what that means? demands a writer in the Woman’s Home Com- panion. Well, listen: If instead of remaining quietly at home in Iowa she had chosen to dem- onstrate her powers to the universe at large the hen might have laid those eggs, each two inches long, end to end in a continuous chain reaching 238,818 miles up to the moon, back again and then more than half way around the world for good measure— a total of 492,424 miles of eggs! Furthermore, if those eggs had been made into one omelet half an inch thick that omelet would easily have covered Manhattan Island, an area of twenty-two square miles, An old Mohammedan legend tells that King Solomon used to travel through the air with all his armies on a wonderful flying carpet protected from the rays of the sun by the wings of a host of birds. Now, according to the poultry census, there are in the United States about 280,000,000 of chickens, guinea fowls, turkeys, geese, and ducks of the poultry voting age, which is three months or over. If re- quired to furnish a moving canopy like that of King Solomon the barnyard fowls of this country, allowing only a foot of spread to each, could easily shadow a space of ten square miles. Pray for the things you want, but ! work for the things you must have. EXCELLENT WEATHER AND: MAGNIFICENT GROPS REPORTS FROM WESTERN CAN. ADA ARE VERY ENCOURAGING. A correspondent writes the Winni- peg (Man.) Free Press: “The Pinch- er Creek district, (Southern l- berta), the original home of fall wheat, where it has been grown with- out failure, dry seasons and wet, for about 25 years, is excelling itself this year. The yield and quality are both phenomenal, as has been the weather for its harvesting. Forty bushels is a common yield, and many fields go up to 50, 60 and over, and most of it No. 1 Northern. Even last year, which was less favorable, similar yields were in some cases obtained, but owing to the season the quality was not so good. It is probably safe to say that the aver- age yield from the Old Man’s River to the boundary will be 47 or 48 bushels per acre, and mostly No. 1 Northern. One man has just made a net profit from his crop of $19.55 per acre, or little less than the selling price of land. Land here is toe cheap at pres- ent, when a crop or two will pay for it, and a failure almost unknown. Nor is the district dependent on wheat, all other crops do well, also stock and dairying, and there is a large market at the doors in the mining towns up the Crows Nest Pass, and in British Co- lumbia, for the abundant hay of the district, and poultry, pork, and gar- den truck. Coal is near and cheap. Jim Hill has an eye on its advan- tages, and has invested here, and is bringing the Great Northern Railroad soon, when other lines will follow.” The wheat, oat and barley crop in other parts of Western Canada show splendid yields and will make the farmers of that country (and many of them are Americans) rich. The Cana- dian Government Agent for this dis- trict advises us that he will be pleased to give information to all who desire it about the new land regulations by which a settler may now secure 160 acres: in addition to his 160 home- stead acres, at $3.00 an acre, and also how to reach these lands into which railways are being extended: It might be interesting to read what is said of that country by the Editor of the Marshall (Minn.) News-Messenger, who made a trip through portions of it in July, 1908. “Passing through more than three thousand miles of Western Canada’s agricultural lands, touring the northern and southern farming belts of the Provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta, with nu- merous drives through the great grain fields, we were made to realize not only the magnificence of the crops, but the magnitude, in measures, of the vast territory opening, and to be opened to farming immigration. There are hundreds of thousands of farmers there, and millions of acres under cul- tivation, but there is room for mil- lions more, and other millions of acre- age available. We could seein Western Canada in soil, product, topography or climate, little that is different from Minnesota, and with meeting at every point many business men and farmers who went there from this state, it was difficult to realize one was beyond the boundary of the country.” Isle of Wight. The Isle of Wight inhabitants are not alone in speaking of “going to England” when they leave their own fragment of the kingdom: patriotic Cornishman also “goes to England” when he crosses the Tamar. Similar- ly, inhabitants of the Balkan peninsu- la talk of “going to Europe” when they leave their own corner of the continent in curious contrast with the people of Great Britain. They re- gard themselves as both of and in “Europe,” and accordingly it is only “the continent” that they visit. The record in the splendid isolation line is probably held by that minister of the Cumbraes, in the Clyde, who prayed for a blessing upon “the inhabitants of Great and Little Cumbrae and the adjacent islands of Great Britain and Ireland.” PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to : Northwestern Inventors. Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 910 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul, Minn.; M. Chris- topherson, Grafton, N. D., game poard; M. Ellingson, Brooten, Minn., lock equipped whip socket; W. J. Footitt, Carrington, N. D., band cutter and feeder; J. L. Kummer, Cold Spring, Minn., rake; E. R. Orchard, Fargo, N. D., penholder; J. J. Meyer, Kenyon, Minn., carrier system; J. T. Teare, Stillwater, Minn., log fishing grapple. Gored. Mabel (testing the wisdom of the grown-ups) — Well, how did Martin Luther die? Uncle Jim—Oh, in the ordinary way, I suppose. Mabel—Oh, uncle! You really don’t know anything. He was excommuni- cated by a bull. So Would Others. Little Freddie was told by the nurse one morning that the stork had visit- ed the house during the night and left him a little baby sister, and asked if he would like to see her. “{ don’t care nothing about the baby,” said Freddie, “but I'd like to see the stork.” Dark Sayings of a Prophet. “The weather to-morrow will be dull and rainy at first, cloudy and show- ery later.—Evening News. These sudden changes in the weath- er are very disturbing. . |SEE GRAVE DANGER| Nothing I Ate RAILROAD ACCIDENTS ALARM BRITISH PUBLIC. . Recent Smashups Due to Engineers Being Unfit for Duty—Demand for Frequent Medical Ex- amination Is Made. After the disastrous train smash at Shrewsbury, England, a year or so ago, Lloyd-George, then president of the board of trade, was present at the then the made. He emphasized engine drivers should not be medically examined at regular intervals. He was informed that drivers were merely required to pass a medical examination before en- tering the service and that the exam- ination of the driver concerned in the Shrewsbury accident must have taken place 40 years before the occurrence. For a while the matter was taken up with considerable keenness by the public. The Grantham accident, which happened to a boat train in which there were many American passen- gers, had occurred not long before, and in both cases it was suggested that the drivers were suffering from illness. Still nothing was done with regard to compulsory examination of engine drivers. An accident to a Midland railway train near Nottingham has revived the topic. A crowded train after leaving Nottingham dashed through the next station at high speed, although the sig- nals were against it. Fortunately the runaway was switched on to a branch line just in time to let the London- Bradford express dash by. When the fireman had -brought the train to a standstill the driver was found lying helpless on ‘the footplate, struck down by paralysis. In May an engine driver died on the footplate from fatty degeneration of the heart a few minutes after he had taken his train out of Newcastle. In April the board of trade received a re- port of the collision due to a driver’s mismanagement which was attributed to the man’s debilitated condition and to the fact that he was in the last stages of a mortal complaint. On December 26 last, an engine driver fell in the street just after he had brought his train into Crewe, and he died the next day. In October a driver fell dead from heart disease while driving a train from Loughbor- ough to Leicester. In the same month another driver was struck down by paralysis just as he left his engine, while _ still driv- er died in that who another month was at work - though suffering from __ locotomor ataxia. The collection of such a number of cases as this in a short time would seem to point to the necessity for reform. — London Telegraph. Locomotive Most Useful Invention. Over 200,000 readers of the Petit Journal of Paris, one of the most widely-circulated newspapers in France, have just declared it their opinion that the locomotive is* the most useful invention of modern times. The newspaper in question re- cently started a ballot to decide upon the 12 modern discoveries or iuven- tions which had rendered the greatest service to humanity. The results were not such as one would ordinarily ex- pect. The list comes in the following order: The locomotives, potatoes, vaccine, the cure of hydrophobia, sugar, the telegraph, matches, the steam boiler, the telephone, petroleum, the sewing machine, and soap. While the locomotive received 275,197 votes, soap at the other end of the list only received 117,817. The humble bicycle received 80,000 votes, and the automo- bile 60,000. As for the tramway, it received the humiliating minority of 22,000 votes. This shows that all phases of locomotion are not equally popular. Thousands of readers of the Petit Journal are evidently still con- fident in the scientific prowess of Lemoine, for they cast their votes in favor of that modern discovery, the artificial diamond. He Misunderstood. “The simplest propositions,” said Senator Beveridge in a recent address, “must be set out with the utmost care in the wording, or misunderstanding, dissent, even anger, may result. “Thus, as a train was moving forth from a Cincinnati station, a man stuck his head far out of the window. “ ‘Keep your head in there,’ a station attendant shouted in warning, ‘or it will be knocked off.’ “Knocked off!’ shouted the pas- senger. ‘Knocked off, eh? Well, it won’t be knocked off by anybody the size of you, you _ bandy-legged shrimp!’” Rare Relic of Panama Railroad. A historic piece of wood reached Harry B. Carswell of Kansas City, Mo., a short time ago from his brother, L. C. Carswell, now engaged in building the Panama canal. It is one end of the first tie laid, and in it the first spike driven, by the French in 1854, when they started to build the Panama railroad, now to be replaced by an entirely new one. The wood is known as Guayacan, and is so hard that holes had to be bored in which to place the spikes.—Kansas City Journal. inquiry which was question whether MRS.LENORA BODENHAMER. Mrs. Lenora Bodenhamer, R. F. D. 1, Box 99, Kernersville, N. C., writes: “T suffered with stomach trouble and indigestion for some time, and nothing that I ate agreed with me. I was very nervous and experienced a continual feeling of uneasiness and fear. 1 took medicine from the doctor, but it did me no good. “T found in one of your Peruna books a description of my symptoms. I then wrote to Dr. Hartman for advice. He said I had catarrh of the stomach. [ took Peruna and Manalin and followed his directions and can now say that I feel as well as I ever did. “I hope that all who are afflicted with the same symptoms will take Peruna, as it has certainly cured me.’’ The above is only one of hundreds who have written similar letters to Dr. Hartman. Just one such case as th entitles Peruna to the candid consider- ation of every one similarly afflicted. If this be true of the testimony of one per. son what ought tobe the testimony of hundreds, yes thousands, of honest, sin- cere people. We have in our files a great many other testimonial. HABITS OF MUTTON BIRDS. Antarctic Sooty Petrels Fraternize With Snakes. Large poisonous snakes and mutton birds, otherwise known as antarctic sooty petrels, fraternize in the Fur- neaux island rookeries, northeast of Tasmania, according to Consul Baker of Hobart, who investigated the hab- its of the birds. The mutton bird hunters in reaching into the nests fre- quently lay hold of snakes instead of birds. The mutton birds fly swiftly and irregularly, and the consul men- tions that Capt. Flinders of the British royal navy reported that a flock of the birds he once saw was forty miles in length. Even the lighthouse at Goose island, one of the Furneaux group, has to be protected from the birds by iron screen work, and fre- quently hundreds of dead birds are found at the lighthouse base. The birds are very methodical, arriving in enormous sumbers at the rookeries every year about Sept. 20. After the eggs have been laid the male and female birds take tums at hatching, each partner when relieved scouring the country in all-day quests for food. Beyond Help. Martha, endeavoring to instruct a would-be housekeeper in the mysteries of pudding making, was overheard: “Yer jes’ takes some bread en’—” “How much bread, Martha?” “Oh, jes’ what yer needs, Miss Min, en den yer puts yo’ milk on it—” “And how much milk, Martha?” “Well, yer mus’ use yer jedgment *bout dat, Miss Min.” “But I haven’t any judment, Mar- tha.” “Well, de Lord help yer, Miss Min, ’cause I can’t.” EAGER TO WORK Health Regained by Right Food. The average healthy man or woman is usually eager to be busy at some useful task or employment. But let dyspepsia or indigestion get hold of one, and all endeavor becomes a burden. “A year ago, after recovering from an operation,” writes a Mich. lady, “my stomach and nerves began to give me much trouble. “At times my appetite was vora- cious, but when indulged, indigestion followed. Other times I had no appetite whatever. The food I took did not nourish me, and I grew weaker than ever. “I lost interest in everything, and wanted to be alone. I had always had good nerves, but now the merest trifle would upset me and bring on a vio- lent headache. Walking across the room was an effort and prescribed ex- ercise was out of the question. “I had seen Grape-Nuts advertised, but did not believe what I read, at the time. At last when it seemed as if I were literally starving, I began to eat Grape-Nuts. “I had not been able to work for a year, but now after two months on Grape-Nuts I am eager to be at work again. My stomach gives me no trou- ble now, my nerves are steady as ever, and interest in life and ambition have came back with the return to health.” “There’s a Reason.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Read “The Road to Well- ville,” in pkgs. Ever read the above letter? A new one appears from time to time. They are geqnine, tras; amd ifell of buses