Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 29, 1915, Page 6

“Well.” The crusty little lawyer regarded Phillipsborn with a glance of scrutiny in which Dick imagined there was more trilumph than regret. “It's not well,” retorted Dick cheer- fully. “I understand you to say that every penny is wiped out?” “There are a few thousands to be saved,” explained the little lawyer, slowly—almost unwillingly. Crew had ocome to dislike this young man who had health and wealth and the ca- pacity for enjoyment. Crew had all three, but not at the same time. ‘Wealth had come at the expense of health and the power of pleasure, and he envied Dick his opportunities. “I belleve that with judicious man- agement as much as ten thousand can be mund by selling P-rlonl up and—' “That will be all of tha inter- rupted Phillipsborn. “What Mr. Par- sons has been able to save from the wreck, let him keep. He needs it more than I do.” “But when you have sacrified your | entire fortune in seeking to save & comparative stranger, it is only right that what is left should be yours,” pro- tested Crew. He knew where he could sell up the crippled Parsons and make & cool ten thousand for himself on the Qeal. Phillipsborn swung around in the | swivel chair in which he had been sit- ting. “We won't discuss that at all,” he sald quietly. “I scarcely knew Mr. Parsons before I went into this deal, but there was a time—years ago— when my father needed $5,000 in cash to protect his little fortune. Mr. Par- sons let him have it. That was the real start of dad's career.” “And now you let him have a hun- dred times that—and it is the end of your career,” reminded the little law- yer. “Now that I know just where I That Night He Ran Across Payton at the Club. stand, suppose that you render your bill and close the account,” said Dick. That night he ran across Payton Clavering at the club. It was cheaper to eat at the club than at a restau- rant, and Dick had gone there much Tonight he was sitting at a table by himself when ‘Clavering dropped into the seat opposite. ~“I hope you don’t mind, old chap,” be sald with an apologetic smile. “I hate to break in on a fellow, and if you'd rather be alone, I'll seek some other victim, but the fact is I'm bored to death. I wish I was back in the old days when a fellow could hire a little hunchback to give him a chance to laugh now and then. The theater’s & bore, and it I hired some of those vaudeville persons to give me a show all to myself, they'd talk and I'd get my name in the papers.” “You're just the man I'm looking for,” announced Phillipsborn. “I sup- pose you've heard that I backed the Holmes-Parsons deal, and that it busted me. I'm the Millionaire Amusement company now. Want to ¢ive me my first commission “I say, you'd look jolly odd in cap and bells,” suggested Clavering. “I'm not going to put on a clown suit and tell you jokes,” protested Dick. “Mine is a better scheme than that. You want something to do, and you don't know what you want. You pay me & retainer, and I'll find some- thing that you want to do and tell you what it {s. If you like it, all you Rhave to do |l make out a cheok, after all the detalls.” Pragrances Diminished by Sunlight. Flowers are more fragrant when the Dered that I'd forgotten a lunch. What ‘would you suggest, old chap?” Dick was staggered for & moment. “The company isn't in working order yet,” he began slowly. “You see, the idea is only half formed. I didn’t sup- pose that I should find a client imme- diately but—what do you saytoa hunt for buried treasure?” he added as his eyes fell upon the evening pa- per that he had laid beside his plate when the oysters had been brought. “It's just the time of year for a crulse in southern waters. Form a little party, and I'll come to you with some charts that Sir William de Morgan or one of those pirate chaps left. I can get one done by that man who makes fake family trees for the recently ar rived. I've seen some of his work—so have you if you only knew it—and it only lacks the trade mark to be the real goods. We'll have to pretend that it is real, but there will be the fun of ' pretending and there will at least be a pleasant cruise and something to talk ' about.” “I say, I like that,” cried Clavering. “We won't tell the others, and we can get our fun loolln; them. You fix it up, and when you're ready, I'll sign the check.” A few days later he sought CInur ing bearing a masterplece of tomry The parchment was old and stained. | It was worn on the edges and patched | here and there with bits of cloth and | paper of other texture. No one not “in the know” would have guessed that a week before the parchment had lain in the stock of an art dealer. On it was set forth the fact that Sir Wil- llam de Morgan, being hard pressed, ' had hidden his plunder on an island, | the location of which was given—"and by signs to be seen,” the plunder could ' | be located in a certain cave. “How about the cave part?” manded Clavering. “It gives it the we do when we reach the island and find that there is no cave?” “But there is a cave,” explained Dick proudly. “I told you that this | would be worked out right. There is a little cave on the island, and I know | just where it 1s, but it will take a lot | | ot looking, and we can string it out long as we want to. It's off the coast ! of Nicaragua. It’s a great little place | with good springs. I located an old ship captain who told me all about it.” “Now we need another document ' i that sets forth that you get half, you ! know,” reminded Clavering. “That will explain why I happen to be on your | boat, instead of my own. You know ' what I mean. You have the paper and ' I put up the cash.” “Suppose that we do stumble across a fortune?” asked Dick jokingly. “It goes just the same,” was the serious response. “You're entitled to | half of anything we find. It's worth | it, by Jove! 1 feel like a boy. It beats 'hut a plain yachting trip all hollow, | even if we two do knoyw that it's all a fake.” “We're children still and we like to pretend,” reminded Dick as he folded | up the paper. “I can have the Ven- turer ready in a week.” “None too soon for me,” cried Clav- ering, and eight days later the com- fortable yacht slipped from port. It was an uneventful trip to the southern ocean. The were calm and the little party spent entire days on deck. Dick was almost sorry when at last the {sland was reached. It w tiny little dot on the surface of t blue sea, scarcely ten miles long and not quite five wide, with black, forbidding rocks instead of the white coral they had all expected. Without premeditation two search- ing parties were formed and for a week they ranged the island before hope began to give place to discour- agement, and Dick and Clavering agreqd that the eave should be discov- ered the following day. Even with his knowledge, it was not easy for Dick to locate the tiny open- ing, but at last he got his bearings and by cutting away the brush the opening at last stood disclosed. ure seekers swarmed into the narrow mouth only to be driven back by the swarm of bats and birds that had sought shelter therein, It was an hour before they at last stood inside the cave. It was long and narrow, leading directly into the heart of the sole- eminence on the island and eagerly they pressed forward. No “signs to be seen” gave hint of the location of the treasure and Edith Barclay pouted. “l suppose the silly old pirate marked something with whitewash and imagined that it would last for | ever,” she exclaimed petulantly, “We'll have to dig up the entire floor of the cave to find anything and then per- haps we won't find anything.” A cry from Bess Clavering Inter- rupted her, and she and Clavering hur- ried towards the end of the cave where Bess and Dick had gone. “I've found the treasure, but not de Morgan's,” explained Bess with a tense little laugh. “We've located something better than gold pleces. I was pretty good at geology at Vassar, and unless I'm very much mist I've iocated an underground lake asphalt.” She pointed to the somber wall that seemed to be bulging from its place. Dick was eagerly digging at the sur- face with his machete while Bess col- cave,” she explained, “but it is the best quality of asphalt and we can treasure, Bdith, and it's ever dreamed of.” 'And half is Phillipsborn’s,” remind- “You're a millionaire, you jolly well deserve more than g H e ] : de- | right touch, you know, but what shall i By FRANK FILSON. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) down to his ofice. He had begun to earn enough income the year before, as a lawyer in the little manufactur- ing town, to justify him in claiming Mollle, whom he had loved' since he entered college,”as his wife. But the struggle was a hard one, and he had only just been able to keep his home together. Then, a month previously, Iot the town lawyers to apply for al salaried position as adviser. j choice had really narrowed down to i two: himself and Herbert Johmson. ' And he knew in his heart that John- son was slated for the position. | If mere learning had counted, he lmzht have got it. But there were | other qualities. Johnson was a man- ‘tbout-tovn. a frequenter of the best hotel, where he dined and met people. But, most important of all, Johnson | was acquiring a reputation as a man | who took hard cases. The Adamson ! corporation would undoubtedly prefer ‘s man who was willing to attempt to | drive through the law, it it could be done, to & lawyer who had his own ridiculous scruples. “However,” he said to Mollie, “I be- | leve there is a good future for a law- ! yer whose honesty will be so generally ! recognized that it will go far toward | winning him every case in which he appears.” And she had agreed. But that did ! not help him toward the $2,000 posi- tion with the Adamson corporation. And that income, in addition to his other work, loomed larger and larger as the days went by. | Then he was stunned to receive an | invitation to call upon the corpora- tion. In his best suit, which Johnson would have scorned to wear, except for gardening, perhaps, he made his | way to the big factory downtown and was shown into the room of the presi- dent, George Adamson, a fussy look- | U | ing old gentleman, who bade him sit | down and examined him with a very critical gaze. ! But Mr. Adamson thawed percepti- bly when his visitor answered the searching questions that he put to him. There John Smith knew that he was on safe ground. His credentials . were certainly better than Johnson's. ! and Adamson acknowledged himself as highly pleased. “Now let us come to practical de- | tails,” he said. “For instance—an old | inventor out in Dayton has a patent that we are very anxious to secure. It is an improved method of manu- facturing gas furnaces, and If we had it it would cut the cost of produc- tion 15 per cent- The old man is a crank and has an inflated value of his ‘' property. He won't sell for less than a miilion, which would mean no extra profit to us for three years. Morally we are justified in taking his patent and manufacturing according to its specifications, for the good of the country. It is intolerable that one know that he could not hope to find the money to sue. Anyway, the case would run for years, and all the while we could be manufacturing. Very well! But now, suppose he moved for an injunction to prevent us manufac- turing while the suit was pending. How would you bout stopping 1t?" “Pay him his million dollars or stop manufacturing,” answered Smith quietly. Old Adamson glared at him. mean?"—he bellowed. . “That I would not be a party to such ' a case,” answered Smith. “No doubt you can find men who would. I am afrald I am not the man you need. Good-day, sir.” And he walked out of the office. ! “You'll hear from us tomorrow!" he heard the irate old man bellow after him. But the threat passed over his head. An hour later he was telling Mollie all about ft. “Dear, you did just right,” she said. But he saw the t. which she vainly tried to conceal, and presently she was weeping unreservedly upon his knee. The next morning when he saw & letter from the Adamson people beside his plate he remembered the presi- ! dent's threat. He laughed scornfully as he opened it. What could the old man do? If he threatened him he would promptly bring suit for dam- ages, or defamation of character. He, John Smith, did not Mtead to allow that old ruffian to ride roughs! him. He opened the envelope. Next mo- ment he dropped the letter with a cry. “Mollie! He's offered me the job!" he cried in exultation. Then: “But I can't take it, dear. I wouldn't werk for such people.” “I.et me read it, dear,” said hi: prac- tical wife. She took up the letter and read fit. Th~a, sllently, she lald it before her “You " he read, “We shall con- sider ourselves fortunate it you will consent to act as our legal represen- tative at a ealary of $2,000 for the first year. It may interest you to know that of the five lawyers before whom we placed our test question you were the only one who answered it in a manner satisfactory to us. Our business has always been conducted according to the best traditions of American business life, and we have use only for an honest man.” “Mollle!” gasped John. “There is room for working out my theory after He felt pretty gloomy all the way; | The ' soberly, “but I love the old home.” Y A STES TIN5 CHICAEN FARM By ISABEL WESTOVER PRICE. (Copynight, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) Just as they do in the story books, Farmer Levi Drury approached his son on his twenty-first birthday posed and prepared to act the old type, ex- acting but indulgent parent. “Justus,” he observed smartly, “you know my system: to throw the grown birds out of the home nest to shift for themselves when the time comes. I* done it with your brothers. They've the done me proud, too, bless 'em! You're Adamson company had invited several the last. Don't spoil the record.” “No, sir, I won't,” asserted Justus “Take this one hundred dollars,” proceeded old Levi, ignoring sentiment and sticking close to hard practical facts. “Make it the nest egg for a home of your own.” 8o, fortified with more ready cash than he had ever possessed be- fore, a tearful blessing from his moth- er and good resolutions and bounding ambition in his heart, Justus Drury started down the road, a dim thought of the big bustling city with its mani- fold promises in his heart. “I've got to see Violet before I go, that's sure,” he told himself. Violet Moore was the orphan niece of Jabez Lincoln, farmer. It was a poor farm and she was a poor girl. 8She greeted Justus with the open candor of love and commiserated his departure so much that he went to her uncle. “Mr. Lincoln,” he sald manfully, “you know how much Violet and I love one another. I've got a little money, I can surely get work around here somewhere. Consent to our mar- riage. We are young, industrious, and together we will be supremely happy, while parted all kinds of mishaps may come to us.” “My boy,” replied Mr, Lincoln blunt- ly, “love is impulsive and common sense a sure guide, The day you earn and own a home of your own, | even if it's only a ten by twelve one- “Hey, Old Pard! That Looks Good.” room cabin, if Violet's willing to take the risk I'll give you my blessing.” “That's a bargain!” cried Justus cheerily. “Oh, Justus!” whispered Violet fondly, “a log cabin would be a palace to me! “I'll do better than that,” boasted Justus brightly. “I know you will. One thing, though, Justus: you are liberal and good-heart- ed. Remember, every cent we save now counts.” 8o timely and true was this, Justus realized, that within an hour he modi- fled his plans as to reaching the city. Whereas, he had planned a second class journey, he now decided that freight transit would be good enough. And no eating house extravagance! Justus bought a big bagtul of crackers and cheese and went down to the rail- road switchyards on a search for free transportation. A train was just making up. An empty freight car attracted him. The chalk marks on its outside told him that it was city-bound. At each end of the car was a heap of straw, evidently the former eaver- ing of a brick shipment. The train bad started aRd Justus had begun a frugal lunch, when there was a rustle in the heap of straw at the other end the car. A frowsy-headed fellow m the impromptu couch, with the word#™ -, “Hey, old pard! that looks good and I'm hungry.” “Then you're welcome to all you can eat,” answered Justus brightly and his fellow traveler f8ll to with & vengeance. He was a good-natured roving tramp, one of the sort that appreci- ates a kindness, and during the next two hours he regaled Justus with many an interesting regital of unique experiences. They had got welllout into the country and Justus ws seated near to the half-open door, companion lying on his back , when there ‘was an ominous jar. The train had suddedly let up on bing at the tramp and pulling him to his feet. Head over heels both went tumbling down the grassciad embankment They sat up at its bottom somewhat bruised, to stare in awe as the car they had left met the jam ahead and was splintered to fragments. “I say!” shuddered the tramp, “you grabbed me just in time. Thanks!” Two hours later the queerly-matched twain stood near the center of the wreck, interested in what they saw. A great car full of grain had left the train, striking a rocky embankment base, its golden contents scattered over the ground like an exhausted avalanche. ‘The wrecking train and an inspec- tor had arrived. The tramp had been acting reflective and calculating for some time. “Wish I had a fair cash stake,” he observed longingly. “What's the idea?” questioned Jus- tus. “Why, there’s the inspector going over things. I've been in this kind of wrecks before. See that car of grain?” “Yes?” “And the wrecked chicken car with about half its freight killed? Well, that’s wreck salvage, hard for the com- pany to handle. If I was a speculator, I'd buy the stuff ofthand. It can be got for a trifie.” “But what would you do with it?” “Well, by hook or crook I'd find some old shed or barn that I could rent and take care of the truck.” “Look here,” sald Justus, after & moment's meditation, “I have a little cash. If you think there is something to be made here, I'll inve: “You will!” cried the tramp read- fly. “Leave it to me, then.” He was gone an hour and came back with shining eyes. “Say,” he reported, “I'm able to make a dandy arrangement to start a regular chicken farm. Now, let me dicker with the inspector.” Seventy dollars would buy the sal- vage, provided the screened boxes of the chicken cars were denuded of their contents within twenty-four hours. ] What an afternoon and night they had of it! Less than half a mile dis- tant the tramp had located a little cabin that had been vacated by its owner for a more pretentious resi- dence. It had sheds and a stable. Its owner would lease the outfit for a trifle. He loaned them a wagon. By noon the next day eighteen hun- dred live chickens had been tr: 3 ported to the new ‘“chicken farm.” The grain they could remove at their leisure. “It feels good to be respectable and earning money,” declared the tramp a week later. They had fixed up the old cabin till it was cozy and comfortable. They had sold one thousand chickens for four hundred dollars. With two hun- dred dollars of this Justus had been able to purchase the cabin and two acres of land about it. At the end of two months they had a regular paying business to attend to. The tramp seemed happy and contented. One day Justus went back to his home town. His first call was upon Mr. Lincoln. “I've got that house we bargained about,” it's bigger than ten by twelv Well, you are an enterprising young man, I'll say that!” commended Mr. Lincoln. Another month spent in decorating the old cabin. And then, there cros: its humble threshold the happiest bride in Christendom, td whom that he announced buoyantly, “and love-lighted shelter was a palace! MADE DRIVER LOOK FOOLISH Pretty Girl Scored Victory Over Teamster Who Really Was Not a Grouch at Heart. A pretty girl, with wide hat tilted against the breeze, stood hovering on the curb. In the middle distance a ‘bus was lumbering toward her; but between it and her, blotting out a view of the motorman to whom she was in the act of signaling, there came pounding along a huge four- horse dray. She hesitated a brief moment, then darted into the roadway under the very noses of the horses, waved her muff at the 'bus driver, and, birdlike, fluttered back again to the sidewalk. The truck driver, startled out of his lounging attitude, had checked his team with a yank at the reins and a profane-sounding “Whoa;" and, lean- ing down from his perch with lower ing brow and chin angrily thrust out, shouted: “Look out where you're going, boob;" and again as he moved slowly past her: “Boob!" But the pretty girl wasn't daunted. She slipped around the tail of his wagon, and jauntily boarded the wait- ing ‘bus; then, as it moved on along- side the dray, pausing on the rear platform, she waved her hand and smiled in friendly fashion at the man, who had turned in his seat and was peering down at her. And the amused onlookers watched a wide and foolish grin spread slowly over the driver's face as he swept off his hat in a deep bow.—New York Evening PolL Thl Allies. 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