The Seattle Star Newspaper, July 3, 1919, Page 9

PIR TS TNA You MEAN HE Has BEEN TELLING FI6S? WEDLOCKED— i; VLL GET TH’ DICKENS AS ITIS LET HIM TRY RUN HIS BUS UP A SAND- DUNE THE SEATTLE STAR Tom Sure Had Some Bush! WeLew,Nov See, THAT HAIR | Tom,YOU SHOULD Tomic RESTORED MY Wane. | HAVE A GUARDIAN For me AGAW AND I APPONTED FOR, orento - ov He LL MUSS UP TH TEN SPOT IN IT FoR. You- BESIDES | You’R THE GUY THAT TALKED ME INTO HAVING MY BED AN’ TAKE MY THURSDAY, JULY 8, 1919. By ALLMAN VE Gor To CALL UP |) BETTER CALL The WIFE AND “TeLt. DP MY WIFE wo HER “HAT | Won’ >” WF ITS GONG TO Be Wome "TLL MIDNIGHT | TAKE ‘THAT LONG wey “THis JoB WW FRONT OF ME. ~ AD SHAVED! ’ ; WHAT HAPPENED? GIMME A STACK OF LUCKY CHIPS- | WANT TO WIN ENOUGH TO BUY MY WIFE’S CouSsIN A EVERETT TRUE EN -HEH- OW WHEN T REACH TH’ Top TLL HAVE A REGULAR SAND BIG TIMBER —————____— 4 | Continued From Page One || o—————_—__—_—_— would move along the same pleasant | channels. Just so. But a broken steering | knuckle on a heavy touring car set things in a different light—many things. She learned then that death is no respecter of persons, that a big income may be lived to its limit ‘¢with nothing left when the brain force which commanded it ceases to function. Her father produced per- haps $15,000 to $20,000 a year in his brokerage business, and he had saved nothing. Thus, at one stroke, she was put on an equal footing with | the stenographer in her father's of- fice. Scarcely equal either, for the stenographer earned her bread and was technically equipped for the task, whereas Estella Benton had no training whatsoever, except in social usage. She did not yet fully realize just what had overtaken her. Things had happened so swiftly, so ruth- lessly, that she still verged upon the incredulous. Habit clung fast. But, she had begun to think, to try and establish some working relation be tween herself and things as she found them. She had discovered al- ready that certain theories of human relations are not soundly established in fact. She turned at last in her seat. The Limited’s whistle had shrilled for a stop. At the next stop—she won- dered what lay in store for her just beyond the next stop. dwelt mentally upon this, her hands were gathering up some few odds and ends of her belongings on the seat. Across the aisle a large, smooth- faced young man watched her with covert admiration. ‘When she had settled back with bag and suitcase locked and strapped on the opposite seat and was hatted and gloved, he leaned over and addressed her gen- ially. Getting off at Hopyard? Happen to be going out to Roaring Springs?” Miss Benton's gray eyes rested im- personally on the top of his head, traveled slowly down over the trim front of his blue serge to the polished tan Oxfords on his feet, and there was not in eyes or on countenance the slightest sign that she saw or heard him. The large young man flushed a vivid red. Miss Benton was partly amused, partly provoked. The large young man had been her vis-a-vis at dinner the day before and at breakfast that morning. He had evinced a yearn- ing for conversation each time, but it had been diplomatically confined to salt and other condiments, the weather and the scenery. Miss Ben- ton had no objection to young men in general, quite the contrary. But she did not consider it quite the thing to countenance every amiable stranger. ‘Within a few minutes the porter came for her things, and the blast of the Limited's whistle warned her that it was time to leave the train. | Ten minutes later the Limited was a | vanishing object down an aisle slash- -d thru a forest of great trees, and ‘iss Estella Benton stood on the nk platform of Hopyard station. | -thward stretched a flat, unlovely | a of fire-blackened stumps. South- *, along track and siding, ranges gle row of buildings, a grocery @ shanty with a buge sign | proclaiming that While she| COPYRIGHT BY BERTRAND W. SINCLAIR AVTHOR OF “NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE it was a bank, dwelling, hotel and *‘sekemith shop whence arose the clang of hammered | columns to where a breeze droned in|lumnberjacks—every man drunk as a/ ‘WO men meanwhile piling the goods | brown-faced, flannel-shirted, shod iron. A dirt road ran between town | the tops, two hundred feet above. |lord, most like. Maybe Benton’'ll be | #board. and station, with hitching posts at which farmers’ nags stood dispirit- edly in harness. To the Westerner such spots are common enough; he sees them not as fixtures, but as places in a stage of transformation. By every side track and telegraph station on every transcontinental line they spring up, centers of productive activity, grow: ing into orderly towns and finally attaining the dignity of cities. To her, fresh from trim farmsteads and rural communities that began setting their houses in order when Washing- ton wintered at Valley Forge, Hop- | yard stood forth sordid and unkempt. | And, as happens to many a one in like case, a wave of sickening loneli- ness engulfed her, and she eyed the speeding Limited as one eyes a de- parting friend. “How could one live in a place Uke this?" she asked herself. But she had neither Slave of the Lamp at her beck, nor any Magic Carpet to transport her elsewhere. was not her abiding place. She hoped that her destination would prove more inviting. Beside the platform were ranged those who had alighted entered these. Their baggage was piled over the hoods, buckled on the running boards, The driver of one car ap- proached her. “Hot Springs?” he in quired tersely. She affirmed this, and he took her baggage, Hkewlse~her trunk check, when she asked how that article would be transported to the She had some {dea of route and means, from her brother's written instruction, but she thought he might have been there to meet her. At least. he would be at the Springs. 80 she was whirled along a coun try road, jolted in the tonneau be- | tween a fat man from Calgary and a rheumatic dame on her way to take hot sulphur baths at St. All- woods. She passed seedy farm houses, primitive in construction, and big barns with moss plentifully clinging on roof and gable. The stretch of charred stumps was left far behind, but in every field of grain and vegetable and root great butts of fir and cedar rose amid the crops. Her first definitely agreeable impres- sion of this land, which so far as she knew must be her home, was of those huge and numerous stumps contending with crops for possession of the fields. Agreeable, because it came to her forcibly that it must be a sturdy breed of men and women, possessed of brawn and fortitude and high courage, who made their homes here. Back in her country, once be yond suburban areas, the farms lay like the squares of a chess board, trim and orderly, tamely subdued to agriculture, Here, at first hand, she saw how man attacked the forest and conquered it. But the conquest was incomplete, for everywhere stood those stubborn roots, six and eight feet and ten feet across, contending with man for its primal heritage, the soil, perishing slowly as perish the proud remnants of a conquered race. Then the cleared land came to a stop against heavy timber. The car whipped a curve and drove into what | the fat man from Calgary facetiously At any rate, she reflected, Hopyard | two touring cars. Three or four of | lake. | remarked upon as tne tall uncut.|But ye wouldna care to go on her, Miss Benton sighted up these noble|I'm thinkin’. She'll be loaded wi' |Thru a gap in the timber she saw |in before night.” | mountains, peaks that stood bold as| She went back to the hotel. But | the Rockies, capped with snow. For | St. Allwoods, in its dual capacity of |two days she had been groping for |health-and-pleasure resort, was a la ‘word to define, to sum up the feel | gilded shell, making a brave outward jing which had grown upon her, had | show, but capitalizing chiefly lake, been growing upon her steadily, as | mountains, and hot, mineral springs. |the amazing scroll of that fourday | Her room was a bare, cheerless place journey unrolled. She found it now,|She did not want to sit and ponder. a simple word, one of the simplest {n|Too much real grief hovered in the our mother tongue—bigness. Pig-|immediate background of her life ness in its most ample sense ~that | It is not always sufficient to be was the dominant note. Immensi-| young and alive. To sit still and les of distance, vastness of rolling |think—that way lay tears and de plain, sheer bulk of mountain, rivers |spondency. So she went out and that one crossed, and after a day's | walked down the road and out upon source or confluence. And now this into the lake. tmending sweep of colossal trees! | It stood deserted save for a lone At first she had been overpowered | fisherman on the outer end, and an with a sense of insignificance utterly |elderly couple that preceded her. foreign to her previous experience. | Halfway out she passed a slip beside But now she discovered, with an|which lay moored a heavily built, | agreeable sensation of surprise, she |50-f00t boat, scarred with usage, a could vibrate to such a keynote. And | squat and powerful craft. Lakeward while she communed with this pleas-|stretched a smooth, ant discovery the car sped down a|face. Overhead patches straight stretch and around a corner |cloud drifted lazily. Where the and stopped short to unload sacks|shadows from these lay, the lake of mail at a weather-beaten yellow | spread gray and lifeless, Where the edifice, its windows displaying indis-| afternoon sun rested, it touched the criminately Indian baskets, groceries, | water with gleams of gold and pale, and hardware. Northward opened a | delicate green. A white-winged yacht | broad seope of lake level, girt about | lay offshore, her sails in slack folds. | with tremendous peaks whose lower|A lump of an island lifted two miles slopes were banked with thick for-|peyond, all cliffs and little, wooded est. hills, And the mountains surround Somewhere distant along that lake jing in a giant ring seemed to shut shore was to be her home. As the|the place away from all the world car rolled over the 400 yards be-|¥For sheer wild, rugged beauty, Roar tween store and whiteand-green St.|ing Lake surpassed any spot she had Allwoods, she wondered if Charlie|ever seen, Its quiet majesty, its would be there to meet her. Shejair of unbroken peace soothed and was weary of seeing strange faces, | comforted her, sick with hurry and of being directed, of being hustled | swift-footed events about. She stood for a time at the outer But he was not there, and she re-|wharf end, mildly. interested when called that he never had been notable |the fisherman drew up a two-pound for punctuality. Five years is a/|trout, wondering a little at her own long time. She expected to find htm/subtle changes of mood, Her sur changed—for the better, in certain | roundings played upon her like a vir directions. He had promised to be|tuoso on his violin. And this was there; but, in this respect, time evi-|something that she did not recall as |dently had wrought no appreciable/a trait in her own character. She transformation. had never inclined to the volatile— She registered, was assigned a | perhaps because until the motor ac room, and ate luncheon to the melan-| cident snuffed out her father’s life choly accompaniment of a three-man | she had never dealt in anything but orchestra struggling vainly with | superficial emotions. Bach in an alcove off the dining| After a time she retraced her steps. room. After that she began to make | Nearing the halfway slip, she saw inquiries. Neither clerk nor man-/|that a wagon from which goods were ager knew aught of Charlie Benton. | being unloaded blocked the way. A They were both in their first season | dozen men were stringing in from there, They advised her to ask the|the road, bearing bundles and bags storekeeper. and rolls of blankets. They were “MacDougal will know,” they were | big, burly men, carrying themselves agreed. “He knows everybody |with a reckless swing, with trousers around here, and everything that|cut off midway between knee and goes on.” ankle so that they reached just be- The storekeeper, a genial, round-|low the upper of their high-topped, bodied Scotchman, had the informa-|heavy, laced boots. ‘Two or three tion she desired. were singing. All appeared unduly “Charlie Benton?” said he. “No,|happy, talking loudly, with deep he'll be at his camp up the lake, He/laughter. One threw down his bur- was in three or four days back. Ij|den and executed a brief clog. Splint- mind now, he said he'd be down|ers flew where the sharp calks bit Thursday; that’s today. But he isn’t|into the wharf planking, and his here yet, or his boat'd be by the|companions applauded. wharf yonder.” It dawned upon Stella Benton that of white |Journey crossed again, still far from) the wharf, which jutted 200 yards| unrippled sur: | | the manifestations of liquor she had | ruffians | but the-cnost shadowy acquaintance. |, Her interested gaze followed the | But she would have been little leas | camp tender as it swung around the | than a fool not to comprehend this. | wharf-end, and so her roaming eyes | Then they began filing down the | were led to another craft drawing |gangway to the boat's deck. One|near. This might be her brother's ipped, and came near falling into | vessel. the water, whereat his fellows howled landing to see. gleefully. Precariously they nego-| Two men manned thi Hated thé slanting passage. All but she ranged alongside the piles, one one: he sat him down at the slip-| stood forward, and the other aft with head on his bundle and began a/iines to make fast. She cast a look quavering chant. The teamster im-|at each. They were prototypes of perturbably finished his unloading,|the rude crew but now departed, with calked boots, unshaven for days, The wagon backed out, and the|typical men of the woods. But, as way was clear, save for the logger|she turned to go, the man forward sitting on his blankets, wailing his and almost directly below her, looked lugubrious song. From below his/her full in the face. fellows urged him to come along. Al uageane bell clanged in the pilot house. The| ; She leaned over the rafl. exhaust of @ gas engine began to/ sputter thru the boat's side, From| “Charlie Benton—for Heaven's her afterdeck a man hailed the | sake.” logger sharply, and when his callwas| ‘They stared at each other. unheeded, he ran lightly up the slip.| “Well,” he laughed at last. “If A short, squarely-built man he was, |It were not for your mouth and eyes, light on his feet as a dancing mas-|Stell, I wouldn't have known you, ter. | Why, you're all grown up.” He spoke now with authority, im-| He clambered to the wharf level patiently. Jand kfssed her. The rough stubble “Hurry aboard, Mike; we're wait-|of his beard pricked her tender skin ing.” |and she drew back. | The logger rose, waved his hand) “My word, Charlie, you certainly airily, and turned as if to retreat ought to shave,” she observed with |down the wharf. The other caught sisterly frankness, “I didn't know him by the arm and spun him face | you until you spoke. I'm awfully to the slip. glad to see you, but you do need | “Come on, Slater,” he said evenly. | some one to look after you. |“T have no time to fool around.” Benton laughed tolerantly. ‘The logger drew back his fist. He| “Perhaps. But, my dear girl, a |was a fairly big man. But if he/fellow doesn't get anywhere on his |had in mind to deal a blow, it failed, | appearance in this country. When a jfor the other ducked and caught him |fellow's bucking big timber, he with both arms around the middle.|/shucks off a lot of things he used |He lfted the logger clear of the|to think were quite essential. By | wharf, hoisted him to the level of his|Jove, you're a picture, Stell. If I breast, and heaved him down the|hadn’t been expecting to see you, I |slip as one would throw a sack of |wouldn’t have known you pen | “I doubt if I should have known The man's body bounced on the| you, either,” she returned drily, incline, rolled, slid, tumbled, till at} (Continued in Tomorrow's Star) length he brought up against the |—— at's guard, and all that saved him a ducking was the prompt extension | of several stout arms, which clutched | and hauled him to the flush after |deck. He sat on his haunches blink- ing. Then he laughed, So did the |man at the top of thé slip and the lumberjacks clustered on the b |Homeric laughter, as at some sur- |passing jest. But the roar of him |who had taken that Inglorious de- ent rose loudest of all, an explosive, Har—har—har!” He clambered unsteadily to his his mouth expanded fn an am- le grin. fey, Jack,” he shouted. “Maybe y’ o'n throw m’ blankets down, too, |while y'r at it.” | The man at the slip-head caught up the roll, poised it high, and cast it from him with a quick twist of jhis body, The woolen missile flew like a well-put shot and caught its owner fair in the breast, tumbling |him backwards on the deck—and the |Homeric laughter rose in double strength, Then the boat began to swing, and the man ran down and leaped the widening space as she | drew away from her mooring. Stella Benton watched tho craft jgather way, @ trifle shocked, her este cay: blows sho had ever seen |!98FA, Bkill and genius are acquired ruck 2! .|by experience and arduous labor. struck were delivered in a more sub: tle, less virile mode, a curl of the|My system of bridgework ts simple peg BD, : and inexpensive, made with a view ip, an inflection of the voice. ‘These | And inexpensive, mid were a different order of beings, |‘? durability and utility. This, she sensed, was man in a more| A toothbrush will easily reach promitive aspect, man with the con. |®?4 cleanse Srety ecte of my ventional bark ‘stripped clean oft |*@nitary bridgework; it is cleaner ‘Modem Bridge Work | For Twenty-Five Years By EDWIN J. BROWN Seattio’'s Leading Dentist 108 Columbia Stree¢ I have been studying crown and bridgework for a quarter of a cen tury, and have worked faithfully te master a system that is safe, sant tary and satisfactory. Other den tists can do it if they will work and than the average natural tooth. She went back to the outer boat. As “Are there any passenger boats that call there?” she asked. MacDougal shook his head, “Not reg'lar, ‘There's a gas boat goes t' the head of the lake now and then. She's away now. Ye might hire a launch, Jack Jyfe's camp tendor’s about to get under way. these might be Jack Fyfe’s drunken loggers, and she withdrew until the | way should be clear, vitally interest, ed because her brother was a logging man, and wondering if these were the sort of men with whom he as. sociated. They were a rough lot— and some were very drunk With him, And she searcely knew whether to be amused or frightened when she reflected that among such her life would presently lie. Charlie had written that she would find things and people a trifle rougher than she was used to. She could well believe that, But—they were picturesque No charge for consultation, and my work is guaranteed, I do not operate on people's pock: etbooks, I have elevated dentistry BY THORNTON W. BURGESS (Copyright, 1919, by T. W. Burgess) Peter Rabbit Finds Sammy Jay’s Secret ETER RABBIT hung around in the Old Orchard for a while, but finding everybody too busy to gossip he decided to go over to the Green| | Forest to look for some of his friends |there, He hdd gone but a little way | \into the Green Korest when he |caught a glimpse of a blue form | stealing away thru the trees. He| | knew in an instant who it was, for | there is no one but Sammy Jay with such a coat. Peter glanced up into | the trees from which Sammy had flown, and there, in a crotch half- way up he saw a nest. “I wonder,” thought Peter, “if Sammy has been there, or if that 1s his Then he started after Sammy as-fast as he could go, lip- perty-lipperty-lip. As he ran he looked back and was just in time to seo Mrs. Jay slip onto the nest. Then Peter knew that he had discov- ered Sammy's home. He chuckled as he ran. “T've found out your secret, Sam- my Jay,” cried Peter, when at last | he caught up with Sammy. | “Then I hope you'll be gentleman enough to keep it to yourself,” said | Sammy, looking not at all pleased. “Certainly,” replied Peter with dig- nity. “I wouldn't think of telling any one. My, what a handsome fel- low you are, Sammy! | Sammy looked pleased. He is a/ little bit vain, is Sammy Jay, There! is no denying that he is handsome. He is a little bigger than Welcome | Robin, His back is a grayish-blue. His tail ts a bright blue, crossed with | black bars and edged with white. | His wings are blue, with white and| black bars. His throat and breast | are a soft, grayish-white, and he| wears a collar of black. On his head he wears a pointed cap, a very con- venient cap, for at times he draws it| down so that it is not pointed at all. “Why did you steal Mrs. Chebec's | eggs?” demanded Peter, abruptly. Sammy didn't look the least bit put out, “Because I like eggs,” he of brush. while he waited for Reddy g0 away, much good can be mixed Sammy Jay stole Chebec's then he saved my life. have done just as much for Mrs, Chebec, or any other ff neighbor. only a little while in the I guess on the whole he does ™ good than harm.” replied, promptly. “If people leave their nests unguarded, must expect to lose them. How you know I took those eggs? “Never mind, Sammy, never’ a little bird told me,” retorted mischievously. Sammy opened his mouth sharp reply, but instead uti ery of warning. “Run, Here comes Reddy Fox!" he ek eggs?” demanded Peter, Peter dived headlong under @ “It's funny,” if ‘how so much bad He He can steal Ay ¥: Peter was quite right. does do more good than harm, Next story: Peter Good in Blacky the Crow, ‘ Hal’s Papa BY THE STORY LADY Peter and Hal were eating sand wiches on the back porch. | “Gee,” said Hal between bites, “T wished IT had a mamma to give me sandwiches and things. If I ask the cook, she fusses; and if I ask the housekeeper, she tells me it healthy; and then Ihave to goto the store and get candy or something.” | _ After Hal had gone, Peter thought | * the matter over. Whom did he know that would make Hal a good mother? | Just then Aunt Grace came tripping up the walk. She got a kiss in pay- to the house. Peter heard her tell | mamma that she had come for sup per. He had a sudden idea, Why |? not Aunt Grace? She was pretty, and Hal already liked her, He had called her a “peach” that very day That she would give him sandwiches | Peter was sure. Peter ran into his mother. “Mam- ma, Hal says he and his dad get aw- ful lonesome at night. . Couldn't | they come over after supper, and we | could have popcorn and play the new record daddy brought home tonight.” Mamma was pleased, “Why yes, I guess so. Hal's papa certainly seems very nice." So Peter ran to invite them, and things went Peter's way very nicely. Hal's papa, who was. still rather young, and certainly very handsome, helped Aunt Grace pop the corn, and seemed to like her very much. “Now,” Peter said to himself, “it they can only be alone a little while, perhaps he will ask her.” So when mamma went upstairs to tuck the twins in bed, Peter took Hal into the dining room to show him his new checkerboard and then called papa to ask him a question, but papa was no sooner safely in the dining room than he called Hal's papa, too, and they were soon deep to a professional business standard EDWIN J. BROWN 196 Columbia Strecg_ in a checker game, Peter sulked un- til the company was gone. “What's the matter. old man?’ wiches. THE STORY LADY TELLS How Peter Was Going to Have Marry Aunt |asked papa, as he took Peter to bed, | “Oh,” sald Peter in disgust, “T was 1 have Hal's papa marry Aunty ce, but you went and spoiled it 1” Papa was too amazed to speak, — then he said: i you know where ~ are made’ pa. do “It wasn't matches Hal wanted,” aid Peter, stiffly; “it was —HE: CARPENTER MOORE, It is easier to make a new quar ment for a peppermint, and went in-|rel than it is to patch up an old one,»