The evening world. Newspaper, January 19, 1915, Page 15

. 4 New York Man’s In the “Big Outdoors’ BY FRANCIS CHAPTER IV. (Coatiaeed.) HE approach to the head- cadia Company skirted the Water, in this portion of its course a river of the plain, eddying ewittiy between the aspen-fringed banks. But a few miles further on, where the gentlo undulations of the Tigh grass land gave place to bare, fock-capped hills, the stream broke @t intervals into noisy rapids, with deep pools to mark the steps of it, descent. ’ Ballard’s seat on the firemai box was on the wrong eide for the topographical purpose, and he crossed the cab to stand at Hoskins’s elbow. LYNDE quarters camp of the Ar- ‘co! right bank of the Boiling 7), superinduced insanity as ever and in less than two months he an: Manuel poor everybody's nerves, of course; then Macpherson came. You know him—a __hard-! |, ware old Scotchm: tried ridicule; and when that didn’t stop the crazy hap- penings, he took to bullyragging. The day the derrick fell on him he was swearing at the holster engineer, he died with a curse in his mouth.” ‘The Kentuckian sat back in his chair rs his hands clasped behind hi As they were passing one of the still- go eat of the pools the engineman sald with a sidewise jork of his thumb: “That's the place where Mr. Braith- ‘waite was drowned. Came down here from camp to catch a mees o’ trout for his supper and fell in—from the far bank. “Couldn't he swim?” asked Ballard. “They all say he could. Anyhow, it looks as if he might ‘a’ got out o' that Ute “didn’t. They found his fishis on the bank, and him down at the foot both arms broke and th | top of his head caved in, like he'd beun run through a rock They can say what they ; 1 ain't i bellevin’ the river done 1 “What do you believe?” Ballard was fooking across to @ collection of low buildings and corrals-—evidently the headquarters of the old cattle king’ ranch outfit—nestling in a hill- shelteréd cove beyond the serena and hoodoo, ler. And then, with the freedom born of long service in the unfettered areas where discipline means only obe without servility, Hoskins added: “I wouldn't be standin’ in your shoes @his minute for all the money the Arcadia Company could pay me, Mr. Ballard.’ rad was young, fit, vigorous ‘and in abounding health. Moreover, he was a typical product of an ago Mich ecofts, at superstition and is > impatient of all things irreducible to the rms of algebraic formulas. But here and now, on the actual scene of the fatalities, the “two sheer acci- dents and a commonplace tragedy’ were | ‘easily dismissed than when he had thus contemptuously named them for Gardiner in the Boston te minal, Notwithstanding, he was quite well able to shake off the little thrill of disqitietude and to laugh at Hos- kh vieartous anxiety. wasn't raised in the woods, Hos- kins, but there was plenty of tall ¢ near enough to eave me from scared by an owl,” he as- severated. Then, as two towering derrick-heads loomed gallowslike in whe thering dusk, with a white Hlotch of masonry to fill the ravine over which sper stood sentinel: “Is cnr ba at's hi is said the engineer; and he shut off the steam gnd woke the hill e¢hoes with the whistle. Ballard made out something of the land about his headquar- the engine bar slowing temporary yard. the orderly disorder of a construction terminal: tracks littered with cars of material, a range Oo! rough sun-shelters for the atone-cut- ters, a dotting of sleeping huts and abodes on a little mesa above, and a huge, weathered meas-tent, lighted within, and glowing orange-hued in ry aack. 0 ‘the camp the rounded hils grew suddenly precipitous, but through the river gap guarded by the twin derricks there was a vista distantly backgrounded by the mass of the main range rising darkly under ite evergreens, with the lights of a great house starring the deeper ‘Bromiey was on hand to meet his new chief when Ballard dropped from n Y Wang y y the sun of the altitudes and ‘Winds of the desert, he was etill Bromley of Ballard’s college ; compact, alert, boyishly smiling, neat, and well-groomed. With Anglo-Saxon blood on both aides, the meoting could not be dem- trative, ontSame little old ‘Beau Bromley,’ ” was Ballard’s greeting to go with t! “hearty hand-grip: ‘and Bromley’s reply was in keeping. After which elimbed the slope to the mesa and the headquarters office in com- rage ailence. eying picked up the engine “spe. cfiaj” with his field-glass as it came down the final sigzag in the descent from the pass, Bromley had supper waiting in the adobe-walled shack which served as the engineers’ quar- ters; ae until the pipes were lighted after the meal there was little talk save of the golden past. But when the camp cook had cleared the table, Ballard reluctantly closed the book of reminiscences and gave the business affair ite due. ‘i apa “How are you coming on w’ n Tgp, do gout asked. “Don't need s¢ jo you?” ‘Don't you believe it!” said the sub- with auch heartfelt emphasis t Ballard smiled. ‘I'm telling you now, Breckenridge, I never was to shift a responsibility since T ‘born.’ Another month of it alone ould have turned me gray.” “Ané yet, in my hearing, le @aying that you are nothing Le regi when it comes to working men. Isn't it so?” “Oh, of that is all right. It's the that is making an old man of me before my time. “The what?” Bromley moved uneasily in his chair, j, nd Ballard could have sworn that he emeve .@ guick glance iota the. through the ‘There was if turned a fresh I anything to do with king’s objection to being syndicated out of existence?” “No; only incidentally in Sanderson's affair—wh after ‘was @ purely personal quarrel between two men over ‘@ woman, Arid I wouldn't care to say that Manuel was wholly to blame is this Manuel?” queried Bal- rd. “Oh, I thought you knew. He ts the Colonel's manager and ‘ranch foreman. He is a Mexican and an all-around scoundrel, with one lone- some good quality—absolute and un- impeachable loyalty to his master. ‘The Colonet turns the entire business of the cattle raising and gelling over to him; doesn't go near the ranch once a month himself.’ “The Colonel,’" repeated Ballard. “You call him ‘the Colonel,’ and Mr, Pelham calls him ‘the King of Ar- cadia.’ I assume that he has a name, like other men?” * said Bromley. “Hadn't you It's Craigmiles.’ ‘What!’ demanded Ballard, holding the match with which he was about to relight his pipe, until the flame crept up and scorched his finge! “That's it—Craigmiles; Col. Craigmiles—the King of n't Mr. Pelham tell y ‘Hold on a minute,” Ballard cut in; and he got out of his chair to pace back and forth on his side of the table while he was gathering up the pieces scattered broadcast by this ex- plosive petard of a nam ‘At first he saw only the clearing up of the little mysteries shrouding Miss Elsa's suddenly changed plans for the summer; how they were in- stantly resolved into the common- place and the obvious. Bhe had merely decided to come home and play hostess to her father’s guests, And since she knew about the war for the possession of Acadia, and would quite naturally be gorry to have her friend pitted against her pi father, Ballard did not need to look further for the origin of Lassley’ curiously worded telegram. “Lass- ley’: he called it; but if Lassley had signed it it was fairly certain that Miss Craigmiles had dictated it. Ballard thought it was womanlike for her to use the fatalities as an argu- ment in the warning message. None the less, he held her as far above the influence of the superstitions as he held himself, and it was a deeper and more reflective second thought that fin the book of th mysteries, Was it ssible that the three violent deaths were not mere coinc! dencea, after all? And, admitting design, could it be conceivable that Elsa Craigmiles was implicated, even to the guiltless degree of suspecting it? Ballard stopped short in his pac- ing sentry beat and began to investi- gate, not without misgivin, “Loudon, what sort of a man is Col, Craigmiles?” Bromile: reply was characteristic of Bromley. “The fin of the American count ni suave, courteo' a little inclined to be grandiloquent; does the paternal with you till you catch yourself on the edge of saying ‘sir’ to him; and has the biggest, deepest, sweetest big that ever drawled the South- “Humph! That isn't the portrait of a fire-eater.” “Don't you make any mistake. I've described the man you'll meet socially. On the other side, he's a fighter from away back; the kind of man Abed rainst and he doesn’t know when he's licked. He has told us openly and repeatedly that he will do us up if we swamp his house and his mine: that he will make it cost us the price of our entire investment in the I believe he'll do it, too; but ident Pelham won't back d Mi —the collision Poor devils in between. Bal drew up his chair and sat down again. “You are miles beyond my depth now,” he asserted. “I had less than a hour with .{r, Pelham in Denver, and what he didn’ would make a a! brary. Ect tend Seles Bo conent ory of ween company and Col, Craigmiles.” Again Bromley said: “T of course, that you knew abou! it’—after which he supplied the miss. ing details, “It was Braithwaite who was pri- marily responsible. When the com- Boionel ia not oppose thea, though Solon: not oppose them, ‘be knew that the irrigation echeme spelled death to the cattle indi The fight began when Braithwaii located the dam here at this gap in the foothill hogback. There is a better site further dowf the river; a second depression where an earthwork dike might have taken the place of all this costly rockwork.” “I eaw it as we came up thie eve- * the old man was back —_—“—~-+ on — a “Yes. Well, the Colonel argued for the lower or four homesteads im it which he had taken up through his employees: offered furt to take stock in the company; but Braithwaite was pig- headed about it. Ho was a Govern- ment man and a crank on things permanent and monumental; whe' fore he was set on building masonry. He ignored the Colonel, reported on the present site, and the work was “Go on,” said Ballard. “Naturally, the Colonel took this as a flat declaration of war. He has ® magnificent country house in the Spee valley which must hi cost him, at this distance from @ base of supplies, a round half-million or more. ‘When we fill our reservoir, this house “ will stand on an island of less than an acre in extent, with ‘its orchards, lawns and oramental grounds all under water, Which the same tough.” Ballard was Elsa Craigmiles's lover, and he agreed in @ single forcible ex- tive. Bromley acquiesced in the expleti and went on. “The Colonel refused to sell bis country house holding, as a matter of course, and the company decided to take chances on the suit for damages which will follow the flooding of the property. Meanwhile, Braithwaite had organized his camp and the foundations were going in. A month or so later he and the Colonel had a personal collision, and, although Craigmiles was old enough to be his father, Braithwaite struck him. There was blood on the moon, as you'd im- agine. The Colonel was unarmed, and he went home to get a gun. Braith- waite, who was always a cold-blooded brute, got out his fi -tackle and sauntered off down the river to catch @ mess of trout. He never came back alive.” Ballard was thinking altogether of Col. Craigmiles's daughter when he said: “Good hea but the Colo- h, no, At the time of the accident here at the camp, looking for Braithwaite with blood In bis eye. They say he went crazy mad he found that the river had rob! him of his right to kill the man who had struck bim.” Ballard wae éllent for ime, Thea he said: “You spoke of a mine that would also be flooded by our reservoir, ‘What about that?” “That came in after Braithwi death and Sanderson's appointment as chief engineer. When Braithwai made his location here. there was an old prospect tunnel in the hill across the gulch, It was boarded up and apparently abandoned, and no one seemed to know who owned it. Later bie Gene upon which our dam stands. Nt Sanderson was bu rewing for himself with uel, the put three Mexicans at work tunnel; and they have been digging away there ever since.” “Gold?” asked Ballard. Bromley laughed geist. “Maybe you can find out--nobody else has been able to. But it isn't ffered to donate three Ba! disappointment when j, ve bed ot irr Neate of @ mine? queried lard, “Nobody from our side of the fence. have said, it is guarded like th seragiio; and the Mexicans might as well be deaf and dumb, for all you can get out of them. Macpher- son, who stood for the company first, last and all the tim made from some of t out on the dump; but there was ing doing, so far as the best anatyt! chemist in Denver could find out.” For the first time eince the strenu- ous day of plan changing in Boston, Ballard was almost sorry he had given up the Cuban undertaking, “It's @ beautiful tangle!" he snapped, thinking, one would say, of the breach hat st be opened between the company’s chief engineer and the daughter of the militant old cattie king. Then he changed the subject ig Sbruptly. “What do you know about the Colo- nel's household, Loudon?” “All tl is to know, I guess. He lives in state in his big country man- sion that looks like a World's Fair forest products exhibit on the outside and ts fitted and furnished regardless of expense in ita interiors. He is a widower, with one daughter—who comes and goes as ahe pleasce—and a sister-in-law who is the dearest, finest piece Ss, fragile old china you ever al So wh ‘ou've been in the country house, then?" - “Oh, yes. The Colonei hasn't made it @ personal fight on the working force since Braithwaite's time.” “Perhaps you have met Miss—er— the daughter who comes and goes?” “Sure L have! If you'll promiae not to discipline me for hobnobbing with the enemy, I'll confess that I've even played duets with her. She discovered my weakness for music when she was home last summer,” “Do you happen to know where she is now?” “On her way to Europe, I believe. t, that is what Mies Cauffrey— fragile-china aunt—was tell- Ing m 'T eat J hi! sald after a Pause. “I think she changed her mind and decided to spend the summer at ome. When we stopped Acker- man's to take water this evening, saw three loaded buckboards driving SIRS sirectien joesn't prove anythi serted Bromley. “The old Colon i @ house party every little while, He's no anchorite, if he does live in the desert.” Ballard was musing again. Craigmiles,” he said thoughtfully, "I wonder what there is in that name to set some sort of bee buzzing in my head, If I believed in transmigra- tion, I should say that I had known that name, and known it well, in some other existence.” “Oh, I don't know,” aaid Bromiey. “It's not such an unusual name,” “No; if it were I might trace It. How long did you say the Colonel had Mved in Arcadia?” “T didn't say. But it must be som: thing over twenty years. Miss E! was born here.” “And the fumily ts Southern—from “Adam gold; it must be something infinitely leas more valuable, The tunnel is fort- rr ight. The level of the threatens all ue frank; mouth the dam, and t sorts of thing: that it will break made public the Arcadia com| y might build here; would atick at pothing to his property, Mr, Pelham this ts onty bluff; that the mine t worthless. But the fact re- maing that the Colonel is immensely ew apparently growing “Hae nobody ever seen the inalde ' ef Be Wesicate non tra Sched on were, ap- smoked on in silence, pipe ‘burned out he refilled it, and at the match-striking instant the jar of . reply. were running short of headers for |! dam and I put on @ night shift.” “Whereaboute is your quarry?” “Just around the shoulder of the hill and 100 feet above us, It le far enough to out of _ A second explosiog punctuated the explanation. Then there was a third and still heavier shock, a rattling of Pebbles on the sheet-iron roof of the adobe, and @ scant Balf eecond later @ * head crashed throu; ne: Tuesday fragment of stone the size of a man's ish the ceiling and made kindling wood of the light, pine tabi it which the two men were sit- tng. Ballard sprang to his feet and said something under his breath; but Bromley sat still, with a faint yellow tint discoloring the sunburn on his ace, “Which brings ua back to our atart- ing point—the hoodoo,” he sald quivt- ly. “To-morrow morning, when you 0 ground the hill and see where that stone came from, you'll say it was a sheer impossibility. Yet the impos- sible thing has happened. It is reach- ‘nog for you now, Breckenridge; and 8 foot or two further that way would have" —— He stopped, swallowed hard and rose unsteadily. “For God's sake, old man, throw up this cursed job and get out of here, while you can do it alive!” “Not much!" said the new chief con. temptuously. And then he asked which of the two bunks in the ad- joining sleeping room was his, CHAPTER V. ALLARD'S first appraisive view of his new field of 1 bor was had before breax- fast on the morning foliow- ing his arrival, and Bron. ley was his cicerone. Seen in their entirety by daylight, the topographies appealed trresiatity to the technical eye, and Hallard no longer wondered. that Braithwa!tn had overlooked or disregarded all other possible sites for the great dam, The bagin inclosed by the circling foot-hills and backed by the forested! slopes of the main range was a na- tural reservoir, lacking only a com~- paratively short wall of masonry :o block the gap in the hills through which the river found its way to the lower levels of the gra: Janda, The gap itself was an invitation to the engineer. Its rock-bound slopes promised the best of anchorages for the shore-ends of the masonry, andat ite lower extremity it was contracted to @ mere chasm by a jutting promontory on the right bank of the stream. Braithwaite had chosen the narrow- eat in the chasm as the site for his dam, Through the promontory he had di mn @ short tunnel at the river le to provide a diverting spill- way for the torrent; and by this sim- ple expedient had secured a dry river bed in which to build the great wall of concrete and masonry. “That was Braithwaite's notion, I suppose? said Ballard, indicating the tunnel through which the stream, at summer freshet volume, thundered on its way around the building-site to plunge sullenly into its natural bed below the promontory. “Nobody but a Government man would have had the courage to spend so much time and money on & mere prelimin- a It's @ good notion, though.” m not so sure of that,” was Bromiey's reply. “Kirkpatrick tells a fairy story about the tunnel that will interest you when yqu hear it. He had the contract for driving it, you know.” “What was the story?” Bromley laughed. “You'll have to jot Mike to teil it, with the proper righ frills, But the gist of it is Fol know these hogback hills wears they drove through limestone, sandstone, porphyry, fire-clay, chert, misa schist and ud digat tunnel; ich the same, doesn't promise very weil foundations of our dam.” “But the plans call for bedrock un- der the masonry,” Ballard objected. “Oh, yea; and we have it—appar- ently, Hut some nights, when I've lain awake listening to the peouliar hollow r of the water pounding that tunnel I've wondered for the of mud tn't underlie our bedrock.” él Mard's smile was good-naturedly ole: rant. “You'd be a better engineer if you were not a musician, Loudon. You have too much imagination. Is that the Colonel's country house up yon- der in the middle of our reservoir Ont in to be?" me tee mij Ballard focused his field-giass pee. per valley. ideal building site for spectacular purpose, On all sides the knoll sloped gently to the valley level; and the riv chd vi land stream in this Among the trees and distingulsh- able from them only by its right ines and gable angles, stood a noble house, bullt, as it seemed, of great tree trunks with the bark on. Ballard could imagine the snopieing outlook from the brown - pillar: Greek portico facing westward; the majestic sweep of the inclosing hills, bare and with their rook crowns water worn into @ thousand fantastic shupes; the uplift of the silent, snow~ capped mountains to fight and !oit; the vista of the broad, outer valley opening through the gap where tho dam was building, “The Colonel certainly had an eye for the provureagae when he pitch: upon that knoll for his bullding alt was his comment. “How does he get the water up there to muke all that greenery?” “Pumps it, bless your heart! What few modern improvements you won't find installed at Castle ‘Cadia aron’t worth mentioning. And, by the ways, there is another grouch—we're due to drown his power pumping and eleotric plant at the portal of th wee canyon under thirty feet of our tal \d blood, and a lot moro 6 h, Lord!” said Ballard Bromley chuckled, “That is what the Colonel ig apt to suy when you mention the Arcadia Company in his hearing. Do you blame him so very much?" “Not I. If L owned a home iike that, in a wilderness that I had discovered for myself, I'd fight for it to @ finis Last night, when you showed me t! true inwardness of this mix-up, I was nick and sorry. If I had known five days ago what I know now, you couldn't have pulled me into it with a two-inch rope.” “On general principles?” queried Bromley curiously. “Not altogether. Business te buai- ness; and you've intimated that the Colonel is not #0 badly overmatched in the money fleld—and it is a money fight with the long purse to win, But there is a personal reason why "l, of all men In the world, should have stayed out, I did not know It when I accepted Mr. Pelham's offer, and now It Is too Inte to back down, I'm a thousand times sorrier for Col. Craig- miles than even you can be, Loudon. but, as the chief engineer of the Ar- cadia Company, I've got to obliterate him.” “That in precisely what he declares | he will do to the com: laughed Bromley, “And — there”—polnating across the ravine to an iron-bound door closing a tunnel entrance in the opposite hillside—le his advanced battery. That Is the mine I was tell- ing you about.” “Humph!" sald the new chief, his: measuring the distance with his eye. he regulation tpuch elbow “If that mining claim wine it dot 't leave us room over there.” “It doesn't leave us any—as T told you last night, the dam itaelf stands upon a portion of the claim. In equity, if there were any equity In « law fight corporation, the Colonel join us right now, He hasn't done it; he has contented hlinself with out that dead line vou can see over there just above our spiliway, ‘The Colonel staked that out in Billy Sanderson's time, and courteously in- formed us that trespassers would be potted from behind that barricaded door, Just to see if be meant what he ” anuary Tee 19; 1915 ) By — strength Rarrowly eacaped-—e young lead Mine narrow! started inside of by ‘one of the a Mexican dite, If rou ey can ait ou portico with a pretty girl, for the moment that you are oaneering bully of laboring mi rooned, with a lot of dry land fw f tke yourself, in the Arcadia Desert, No, my dear Breckenridge, me won't uw fed the new chief, ‘The ‘Lat root @mashing rock of the previous night must have been hurled: “Don’ forget to tell borg Fo Se 8 more si wder uD here. tmpress it on hii ‘mind that he ie getting out building stone—no' shooting the hill down for concrete,” ‘With this for the introduction to his "i new responsibilities, Ballard saw lit. tle enough of the headquarters during the fortnight following, the pri operations dam, tl were many camps of ditch diggers rai builders at various points jn the part, und inapection tour was the Gret of many pressing duties, ughly, sponding the better part’ of ol ly, spending the the two wecit« in the saddle, “No,” he said to Bromiley op one of the few nights when he was able tapper ana, lodgings sno. Tm too ou 3; “no, I'm tired. Geo calling it'you ‘want to, bi leave me out of the social game unt! I got my grip on the details, rhe: my Veepects to the Colonel—but not now." } BY CEORCE BARR M’cUTC “Hi! you Srasel be, eget, -~_. foreman's beady bleck ems 45 snapped viciously, welll "aman ie dale split me! o that! . “Have your” ott i Sate eee game had and 8 mn ttle arene wae ' the 5 eer" wat il wae another the a cake-walk' Ml go with you and pay Dess Bromley did go, and found that 610 Ballard’e guess about the buckboards was @ true tle ‘Cadia was comfortably a summer house party, Craigmiles had given her = trip to play the hostess, Ballard’s refusal confided n Rad her guess about to present himself, and she it to Bromley. ba § your new tyrant,” she said; have known him for a long time. He won't come. He is afraid we might make him disioyal to his salt. Xow meg: tall: Minh Ge 438 ges ©." But Ballard was asleep when Brom- irned to tod he “turn-out” whistle blew, cause Miss Elsa's challenge remained undelivered, It was on these scoutin, Hlopa to tho outlying camps that rd dis. covered the limitations of the “hoo~ doo," so-called. Its influence, ha found, diminished as the square of the distance from the headquarters. But in the wider field there were hin- drances of another sort. Bourke Kirkpatrick, the younger of the contracting brothers, waa in charge of the hoh-diggings and he had shrewd tales to tell of the law. dot of Col, Craigmiles's ‘da ere isn't annything thim divile won't be up to; Misther Ballard,” ho comaplained. ‘an night they'll un- couple every wagon on the job, and t'row the couplin’-pins away; and the be shtampedin’ weeks ago, on Dan section, they kem wid In the dead o’ night, hitched up the scrapers, and put a thousand yards of earth back into car into the midst of ¢ vemen| wan blood-t! shadow of an “kiler;" a rhdegs 4 ba ape w y tor escaping vena soit was this white Batiard ‘was hgid upon the one onist, and A the attem| band above his pistol but! took = ee a Sata Ge te Ol it had the headipg across the grassy Manuel's left was is eyes from the = to glance ith @ confident now that esse Bourke—it's only horse-play,” Ballard’s advice. Jorse-play, is it? Divil a bit. wid anny man; an’ suggested the 4 you'll not get Dinny Flaherty sine, Thim cow-punch- re roped him and skidded him ‘round over the perairie tll it tuk wan of the min a whole blessed day to dig actus splinters out of him, be- reply expressed som Bromiey’s defense of the onel's fighting methods. If it isn't horse-play, it's guerilla re, Bourke. Have you seen an: thing to make you believe that the fellowa have a tip from: the big house ‘The Irishman shook his head, “The Colonel don't figure in anny- the cow business, "Tis reager is in this as erty'll take outh id the gang that roped him." it was the same story at all of the ditching-cainps, and Ballard passed from placatory counsel to cursings, ‘Wrun a sherif's posse in here a tre ont! he was saying wrathfully to himself ox he Kalloped eastward on the stage rail late In the afternoon of the third day “God knows T don’t want to make a piponete id of it, but if they will have "ae ‘ man no longer need @ singular the Kini immediately. youh servicer you anywhere for a Ballard, mother was “#"Mardaway, don't tke attwlt that side, with calm deiteération— youb father's gone Mistuh Then, as one coming at @ bound the remote past to the present; an thah any—abe-litte Spon on between you am Mistuh Ballard had been angry enough charges againet the tent and singular, the the deep voice ing esk happening. bd beat The old man inthe motor oar a! hard at bim woe one might two, rose in bis place, groped with his hands as Brope, and sank back in the dri 2 seat with a ndering his pocke of Arcadia recovered himaeif “Thank yo! that hoomed sweetness, little too fast. name is Ballard—Brecken rd, isn't it?” he inquired ignoring the dissolving ring of prac teal jokers. Tt ts, courteously, : And you are Colonel Craige ies?” “At youn gerv ub; entiahly at r Tahould have ‘knows ie 1a Five minutes earlier the engineer 5 to a tying ef