Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Lincoln County leader. (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 13, 1912)
Ha EternEKR KM 7 AUTHOR OF THE C0PYictfr 90 sr Gaa&3-stjrriu. cxx 8YNOP8IS. The story apena on Lone Island near Mew Tone city, where Miss Emily Trench, a relative of Ethan Ffrench, manufacturer of the celebrated "Mer cury'1 automobile, loses her way. The ear haa stopped and her cousin, Dick Ffrench, Is too muddled with drink to direct It aright. They meet another ear which Is run by a professional racer named Lestrange. The latter fixes up the Ffrench car and directs Miss Ffrench bow to proceed homeward. CHAPTER SL It was a business consultation that was being beld in Mr. Ffrench's flrellt library. In spite of tbe presence of a tea table and the young girl behind It consultation between tbe two part aara who composed the Mercury Au tomobile company, of whom the lesser waa speaking with a certain anecdotal weight "And he said he was losing too Bach time on the turns; so the next round he took the bend at 72 miles an hour. He went over, of course. The third car we've lost this year; I'm glad the season's closed." Emily Ffrench gave an exclamation, her velvet eyes widening behind their lack lashes. "But "the driver I Waa the poor driver hurt, Mr. Bailey T" "He wasn't killed. Miss Emily," an swered Bailey, with a tinge of pensive regret He was a large, ruddy, white haired man. with the slow and care ful habit of speech sometimes found in those who live much 'with massive machinery. "No, he wasn't killed; he's la the hospital. But he wrecked as good a car as ever was built, through sheer foolishness. It costs money." . Mr. Ffrench responded to the indi rect appeal with more than usual irri tation, his level gray eyebrows con tracting. "We ought to have better drivers. Why do you not get better men, Bai ley t You wanted to go into this rac ing business; you said the cars need ed advertising. My brother always at tended to that side of the factory af fairs while he lived, with you as his manager. Now it is altogether in yqur hands. Why do you not find a proper driver?" "Perhaps my hands are not used to holding so much," mused Bailey un resentfully. "A man might be a good Imanager, maybe, and weak as a part ner, it isn t tne same Job. But a !flrst-class driver Isn't easy to get, Mr. ffrench. There's Delmar killed, and .George tied up with, another company, and Dorian retired, all this last sea (son; and we don't want a foreigner. There's only one man I like " "Well, get him. Pay him enough." Bailey hunched himself together together and crossed his legs. "Yc3, sir. He's beaten our cars and others every race lately, with 'poorer machines, just by sheer pretty jnrlving. He drives fast, yet he dont knock out his car. But there's a lot after him there's just one way wa could get him, and get him for keeps." "And that?" "He's ambitious. He wants to get into something more solid than rac i ng. If we offered to make him man- Ctger, he'd come and put some new fleas, maybe, into the factory, and race our cars wherever we chose to lenter them. I know him pretty well." Tbe proposition was advanced tenta tively, with the hesitation of one ven turing in unknown places. But Ethan iFfrench said nothing, his gray eyes fixed on the hearth. "He understands motor construc jtlon and designing, and he's been with blg foreign firms," Bailey resumed, after waiting. "He'd be useful around; I can't be everywhere. What he'd do for us In racing would help a whole lot It's very well to make a fine standard car, but It needs advertising to keep people remembering. And men like to say 'my machine la the ' same as Lestrange won' the cup race with They like it" "I don't know," said Mr. Ffrench slowly, '"that It is dignified for the manager of the Mercury - factory ' to " be a racing driver." , "The Christine cars are driven by the son of the man who makes them," waa the response. "Some drive their own." "The son of the man who makes them," repeated the other. He turned 'his face still more to the quivering fire, his always severe expression hardening strangely and bitterly: "Tbe son" ' ' i. : The girl rose to draw the crimson curtains before the windows and to push an electrlo switch, filling the room with a subdued glw In place of the late afternoon grayneas. ' Her deli cate face, as she regartiM ker nncle, revealed most strongly las characteris GAMF AND THF PAHDI.Fi tic over.-earnestness and a sensitive reflection of the moods of those around her. Emily Ffrench's child hood bad been passed in a Canadian convent and something of Its mysti cism clung about her. As the cheer ful change she had wrought flashed over the room, Mr. Ffrench held out his hand In a gesture of summons, so that she came across to sit on the broad arm of his chair during the rest of the conference, her soft gaze rest ing on the third member. "My adopted son and nephew hav ing no such talents, we must do the best we can," Mr. French stated, with his most precise coldness. "Being well born and well bred, bo has no taste for a mechanic's labor or for cir cus performances with automobiles In public. Who Is your man. Bailey T" . "Lestrange, sir. You 'must have heard of him often." "I never read racing news." "I read ours," said Bailey darkly. "We've been licked often enough b.y him. And he's straight he's one of the few men who'll stop at the grand stand and lose time reporting a smash up and sending help around. Every man on tbe track likes Darling Le strange." "Likes whom?" Bailey flushed brick-red. "I didn't mean to call him that He signs himself D. Lestrange, and some of them started reading it Darling, joking because he was such a favorite "He Understands Motor and because they liked him anyhow. It's Just a nickname." Emily laughed out Involuntarily, sur prised. "I beg pardon," she at once apolo gized, "but it sounded so frivolous." "If you try this man, you had bet ter keep that nickname out of the fac tory," Mr. Ffrench advised stiffly. "What respect could the workmen feel for a manager with such a title? If possible, you would do well to pre vent them from recognizing him as the racing driver." Bailey, who bad risen at the chime of a clock, halted amazed. "Respect for hlml" he echoed. "Not recognize him! Why, there Isn't a man on the place who wouldn't give his ears to be seen on the same side of the street with Lestrange, let alone to work under him. They do read the racing news. I That part of It will be all right, r: I can have him." "If it 1b neccsary " , "I think it is, sir." " . Emily moved slightly, pushing back her yellow-brown curls under the rib bon that banded them. On a sudden impulse her uncle looked up at ber. "Wha Is your opinion?", he ques tioned. "If Dick had been' listening I should have askei big, and I fancy yours is fully as valuable. Come, shall we have this racing manager?" Astonished, she looked from ber uncle to the other man. And per haps It was tbe 'real anxiety and sus pense of Bailey's expression that drew ber quick reply. "Let us, uncle. Since we need him. let us have htm." "Very well," said Mr. Ffrench. "You hear. Bailey." There was a lone silence after the junior partner's withdrawal "Come where I can see you. Em ily," her uncle Anally demanded. "I liked your decided answer a few mo menta ago; you can reason. How long have you been a daughter in my house?" "Six years," she responded, obedi ently moving to a low chair opposite "I was fifteen when you took me from the convent to make me very, very happy, dear." - "I sent for you when I sent for Dick, and for the same reason. I have tried three times to rear one of my name to fitness to bear It, and each one has failed except you. I wish you were a man, Emily; there is work for a Ffrench to do." "When you say that, I wish I were. But I'm not I'm not" She flung out her slender, round arms in a gesture of helpless resignation. "I'm not even a strong-minded woman who might do Instead. Undo Ethan, may I ask it was Mr. Bailey who made me think my cousin whom I never saw, will he never come home?" He voice faltered on the last words, frightened at her own daring. But her nncle answered evenly, if coldly: "Never." "He offended you so?" "His whole life was an offense. School, college, at home, in each he went wrong. At twenty-one he left me and married a woman from the vaudeville stage. It is not of him you are to think, Emily, but of a sub stitute for him. For that I designed Dick; once I hoped you would marry him and sober his idleness." "Please, no," she refused gently. "I Construction and Designing." am fond of Dick, but please, no." "I am not asking It of you. Ho is well enough, a good boy, not over wise, but not what is needed here. Failed, again; I am not fortunate. There is left only you." "Me?" - Her startled dark eyes and his de termined gray ones met and so re mained. "You, and your husband. Are you going to marry a man who can take my place in this business, in the fac tory and the model village my brother and I built around It; a man whose name will be fit to Join with ours and so in a fashion preserve it here? Will you wait until such a one is found and will you aid me to find him? Or will you too follow selfish, idle fan cies of your own?".. "Not" she answered, quite pale. "I would not do thatl I will try to help." "You will take up the work the men of your name refuse, you will provide a substitute for them?" , ' !' . Her earnestness sprang to meet his strength of will, she leaned nearer In ber entlMeJasm of self-abnegation, oarcely bnderstood. i -, w ).,. 1 will find a substitute or aeoept yours. I, indeed I wlU try not to fall." It was characteristic1 that he offered neither praise nor caress. "You have relieved ray mind." said Ethan Ffrench, and turned his fj.ee once more to the fire. CHAPTER III. It was October when the consulta tion was beld In the library of the old Ffrench house on the Hudson; December was very near on the sunny morning that Emily drove out to the factory and sought Bailey in his of fice. "I wanted to talk with you." she ex plained, as that gentleman rose to receive her. "We have known each other for a long time, Mr. Bailey; ever since I came from the Sacred Heart to live with Uncle Ethan. That is a very long time." , "It's a matter of five or six years," agreed the charmed Bailey, contem plating her with affectionate pride In her prettlness and grace. "You used to drive out here with your pony and spend many an hour looking on and asking questions. You'll excuse me. Miss Emily, but there was many a man passed the whisper that you'd have made a fine master of the works." She shook her head, folding her small gloved hands upon the edge of the desk at the opposite sides of which they were seated. "At least I would have tried. I am quite sure I would have tried. But I am only a girl. I came to ask you something regarding that," she lifted her candid eyes to his, her soft color rising. "Do you know have you ever met any men who cared and under stood about such factories as this? Men who could take charge of a busi ness, the manufacturing and racing and selling, like my uncles? I have a reason for asking." "Sure thing," said Bailey, unexpect edly prompt "I've met one man who knows how to handle this factory bet ter than I do, and I've been at it twelve years. And there he is " be turned in his revolving chair and rolled up the shade covering the glass set door into the next room, "my manager, Lestrange." The scene thus suddenly opened to the startled Emily was sufficiently matter-of-fact yet not lacking in a certain sober animation of its own. Around a drafting table central In the bare, systematic disorder of the apart ment beyond, three or four blue-shlrt-ed men were grouped, bending over a set of drawings, which Lestrange was explaining. Explaining with a vivid interest In his task that sparkled over his clear face In a changing play of expression almost mesmerlo In its command of attention. The men watched and listened Intently; they themselves no common laborers, but the Intelligent workmen who Were to carry out the Ideas bere set forth Wherever Lestrange had been, he was coatless and the sleeves of bis outing shirt were rolled back, leaving bare the arms whose smooth symmetry re vealed little of the racing driver's strength; his thick brown hair was rumpled Into boyish waves and across his forehead a fine black streak wrote of recent personal encounter with things practical. "Oh!" exclaimed Emily faintly. And after a moment, "Close the curtain, please." (TO BE CONTINUED.) Gift for Business. Willie's father conducts a boat rent lng business on the Jersey side of tlm Hudson. "I'll give you a dollar If you'll ball out the boats, Willie," said tbe father one morning after a rain. There were 25 boats and Willi wasn't keen. So be - was non-commit tal A little later his friend Albert came over. "I'll give you a quarter if you'll ball out the boats," said Willie to Al bert "Gee! What d'ye take me for?" re turned Albert as he surveyed the fleet of rowboats. "It's worth 36 cents, any way." "Well, all right, 85 then." said Wil lie. Albert got busy and did the bailing, while Willie looked on and, Tom Sawyer-like, bossed the Job. The work done, Willie collected, paid Albert and pocketed 65 cents. "That boy'U be a business man," re marked the father to Willie's mother later, but not In the boy's hearing. New York Herald. First of French Monarch. History concedes that Clovls L waa the real founder of tbe French mon archy, although his father, Chllderlo, beld some, sort of tribal rule over part of the country which was des tined to become France. Clovls was) a progressive king and. vastly extend ed his domains during the period of his rule, from 481 to 611. He made endless war on surrounding tribes and took territory right and left by conquest In 493 Clovls took Paris by storm and thereupon that city be came the permanent seat of , the Frenom government Just Before the Interest Quickens. "I hope your novel ends happily?" "Indeed It does. It ends in the mar riage of the heroine and hero; does not go Into their married life at all." "very gay, bravely OfTFi one day. !onO"trt umvii . v3r vhett art wtitt -X cannot 4Ay FEW OLD ENGLISH PASTIMES Truckling the Trencher la Played by Children Sitting or Kneeling on Floor In Ring. Truckling the trencher this Is an old English game. The children sit on the floor or kneel in a ring. A person In the center holds the trench er (a pie tin will serve) and when all are ready he truckles, or spins it at the same time calling the name of some one in the ring. The on named must spring quickly and try to catch the plate between both hands before it stops spinning. If he suc ceeds, he takes the place In the cen ter, and the first truckler goes in the ring. If he does not catch the plate between both bands before It stops spinning be 'pays a forfeit and is counted out Then there is the play of -'Two and threes." The company is grouped In twos and threes, usually only one odd one, and the fun consists in not being caught as the third. This keeps each child looking over her shoulder, for when two are behind the fore most must slip away and find another place to be tapped. After a stand-up game, a rather funny game, where nil the company may sit, Is to have .ue person chosen to call and the rest to repeat: One good fat hen; two ducks; three plump partridges; four squawking wild geese; five felicitous oysters; sU pairs of Roman-striped bose; seven thousand Spanish soldiers; eight cages of Hellogabulus paroquets; nine sympathetic, apathetic, didactic, prop ositions; eleven superstitious astrono mers viewing Venus in Venice; twelve European dancing masters teaching Egyptian mummies to dance at Her cules' wedding. If any one laughs In the course of this he must pay a forfeit. The one who repeats most smoothly and solemnly must be the caller out and begin gibberish over again. BALANCING A PLATE AND PIN Trick Is Comparatively Easy of Exe cution If Instructions Given ,. Are Followed. Can you balance dinner plate on a pin? J Easy enough. If you do It this way: Drive a pin into a cork In a bottle. Take four forks and four other corki The Plate and the Pin. ind stick each fork Into a cork, near its end. Then, by hanging the forks ibout the edge of the plate as shown n the picture you can balance the plate on the pin. No Relation. "Mamma." queried three-vear-ola Ethel as she watched the servant aashing the windows, "is Jane myi itepmother?" "Of course not. dear.i replied her mother. '.'What made you- think she was?" ."'Cause," replied). Ethel, "she's always climbing around n a stepladder." ; Little Eva I wonder what the ,muiwiuB Bium reuiiy.arer i Little Olga Oh. I rues thT m - ' ! ! V rood little night lamps that have died ' tad gone to heave- , . . . ' , , I?, ! .s, ,,j i..
