The Key West Citizen Newspaper, August 14, 1947, Page 9

aca Date, te ES A 2 ce THE KEY WEST CITIZEN rn nt rr Rh oa SN A TT LE LL Le Chapter 3 AS the spotted hound following the Larsons also disappeared behind the screen of alders, Doug picked up his gear and started across the clearing. Apparently the clearing had once been a stand of fine Douglas fir for many of the stumps around him had diameters of six or eight feet. Doug had heard of them reaching a breadth of fifteen feet but those were exceptions and a large group of the size of those in the clearing meant a virgin grove that must have brought in a neat sum when cut up into lum- ber. Now the remainder were be- ing. burnt out or bulldozed to make a clean pasture. In the distance he saw smoke spiralling from a massive chim- ney; beneath it he caught the red- dish gleam of pealed madrona logs, evidently the Larson house. He turned away from it and took the road the old man had indi- cated. He plodded on, his ears tuned to the familiar noises of the log- ging industry —the thunderous rumble from the waterfront where logs were being rolled from flat cars into the Sound, the chug of a tractor somewhere up the mountain side ahead and the steady muted scream from the mill where whining saws bit into hard wood. Being hired by the boss himself was not going to be an advantage he realized; it smacked of favor- itism and put him on a different footing from the other men. He — to keep it quiet if possi- e. The bunkhouse was empty. Even though the windows were open a faint stale odor of whiskey and tobacco hung suspended in the air. Doug dropped his boots and gear in a corner and walked over to another house where a clanking of pots hinted that sup- per was being prepared. He thrust his head in the door and for a long minute stared at the figure of the man bent over the —_ stove. When he spoke his | rr revere: sermnrvereer sr recreere eewe rat CUT into pieces for easy transportation. voice could hardly conceal the gees and surprise that filled nim “Hey! What’s cookin’?” he de- manded. “Beef stew and spatzels,” the man answered without turning. “Spatzels! Break out the bi- carbonate!” Doug said rudely. “Don’t like ’em, don’t eat ’em,—that’s all you'll get!” “If they’re made by a _ cook named Ollie Pedersen, they'll probably kill me. It isn’t worth eae ” At this crowning insult the cook swung. around, his. long dumpling fork raised menacingly, but when he spied Doug his recund moon-face twisted into a delighted grimace. “Andy! My little Andy! Is it really you, boy?” Laughing, Doug clasped the cookie’s shoulders. “Really me, Ollie. Lord. but it’s good to see you again!” The fair-haired ugly little Swede looked him over carefully, scuinting his eyes as he made the examination. “It’s been six year, Andy. Las’ time I saw you we was the same size, now look at you!” “Well you can’t expect me to stay your height, Peewee, and still be a logger, ” Doug teased. “Size don’t make no difference. I could top a tree as well as the others until I got this!” He pointed to the peg that took the place of his left foot and gave it a vicious stamp on the caulk- splintered plaaking. “It goes over big at the dances, Andy, ’cause I can swing the girls like a top, but I never get used to bein’ grounded.” Doug smiled. “Sure, but if you were ae tree-topper you wouldn’t be the best cook a lum- ber camp ever boasted about.” Ollie grinned. “For that you get an extra spatzel. Workin’ here, Andy?” “Going to. How is this outfit?” Piha. sete outfit. Good men, and > Larsons are fine to work for. Only . “OC nly what?” llie frow ne -d. “Too many ac- cicents saaiaaid | AP Newsfeatures I fense guns have been scrapped. The two 375-ton monsters roared just once. 1942, and in practice. They never fired again because the con- | ° cussion from their blast damag- -- ed too many buildings and windows over a wide area. They were mounted as harbo defense weapons at Fort “set thur, in southern California, afte being brought from Massachu- setis 20 years ago over a special { route on which bridges and cul- verts had to be reinforced al] the way. Now, their muted = duty ended, they have been cut up for scrap to feed the furnaces at the Kaiser Steel mill here. Making scrap of the big rifles wasn’t much less of a job than bringing them west. To prepare them for shipping in railway gondola cars, they had; fo be cut up. Cuttung took one man c¢ight hours“to make just one slice through the 60-foot barnele During the process, eight tanks of oxvgen went into the heat torch every 15 minutes. Their new non-martial role will be that of steel plate, sheet and!” ‘ Wit-! for western industry—a lit eral beating of swords into plow- snares. strip last year A Texan shot down; ' 687 golden eagles from his sak i plane. nnn | A teaspoon of mustard. add- | ec to soapy water, will deodorize | refrigerator interiors. The incubation period of ai penguin ry is seven weeks, ! PER cs le ‘him Consul Finds Love “Is s Part Of Business: bas TIHWA, ing advised to the China.—(AP).—Play- ! lovelorn ina romantic scandal ed the life of his cook was a re- ; cent extra-curricular duty of the | eriean consul, J. Hall Paxton, Danville, Va..3 in this far of Sinkiang prov- c OL mote capital and persuaded the suspicious Ooslem that his doughty true to him M Va READY to That was in re- ; wife | “What sort of accidents?” “Logging ones. Seems © like they’re because of carelessness yet all the boys is bein’ damned careful. Around the Peninsula they’re beginnin’ to call our camp Larson’s Luck, meaning the bad kind.” He went out and beat the iron triangle hanging besice the door. Soon men were piling out of trucks before the bunkhouse. Some of them paused to wash up, others sat down at the long tables. Doug caught one by the arm asking which was Hardin. The logger shot him a cursory inquisitive glance and_ gestured to a tall man just entering. Doug walked over to him. “Are you Hardin?” Thick dark brows went up questioningly. “That’s right.” “I’m Doug Andrews, new here, They told me to report to you.” Hardin eyed him almost inso- lently and in turn Doug studied the man before him. He saw a broad-shouldered heavy-set log- ger of about thirty, with lustre- less black eyes that matched his wavy hair, a man whom women would probably consider good looking. His jaws were blue with stubble and now a_— muscle twitched at the corner of his thin mouth. : “Who told you,” he said slow- y- Doug couldn't avoid saying it now. “Mr. Larson.” Hardin’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, the big boss man himself, eh? Well what can you do around a logging camp, Andrews?” Doug told him and Hardin nodded then strode to the end of the table and hit his water glass with his fork. “Gentlemen,” he said sarcasti- cally, “We have an optimist in our midst! Andrews here is join- ing up.” Most of them stared at Doug, some with curiosity, others wit complete disinterest, a few with a welcome smile, but at least half of them had an expression in their eyes that said “You must be a fool, Andrews, or don’t you know that the Qarson outfit is operating under a cloud?” (To be continued) One-Time Big Shots Come To An End — be melted down at the mill. * ONTANA, Calif—Fired but once in their 20-year duty guard- FINLAND NURSES ing California's coast, two huge 14-inch railway coastal de- ENCOUNTER SOME TOUGH SLEDDING i ¢ i ' which threaten- | 4. ¥- SOD- | ~~ | FINNISH } 'RSE and kick-sled. cent of all activities the eves. Eighty per lare guided by t Ee a PE Your Grocer SELLS That Good STAR * BRAND mi cus.1 COFFEE Try A Found Today ince. age morning, when his strap-} ng blonde Russian cook, Mai-! : ehlie, did ni appear to serve ; yreakfast, Paxton went to inves- iy He found the woman cry- ! ‘ing. Her husband, Maighlie Sod, had accused her of flirting vith the Chinese Air Force andj; : was going to kill her. A Mos'tem. husband, usually a timid, | brow-beaten fellow, had sudden- lv asserted himself. Under Mos- le n rules he had his choice of | giveness, divorce or killing, 1d strongly favored the latter. Paxton, moved to save an ex- tionally good cook, as well as by humane censiderations, invit- | d the husband to come and see { | ' { ' { { {