THE OREGON SUNDAY- JOURNAL, PORTLAND. SUNDAY MORNING. AUGUST 21. 1C21;
Wa (;T
JLLUSTRATION
-.:vr'l.TWO.SlCY:sCRAPERS AND MRS CASEY -
JHE LITTLE BOOSTBl. ADVISED BY BETTY SFEtfCHMVOBICS HIS REAL KTATE DEALS BY STRANGE METHODS
TTAD, Leonldas advertised for a lady -
helper to assist in defending: the pass "
at Thermopylae against any number of
invading: Persians, he could not have
done better than to have " chosen Mrs.
Mary Casey. Also, she would have been
useful for holding; bridges with Horatius:
for it was she who, by her single-handed
prowess, held a gap between two tall r
buildings against. the strongest army of
real estate speculators ever assembled in
the city of San Bruno, state of California.
No name In the directory was more hated :
by land brokers than was hers, no ground
more coveted than the 100x160 foot plot ;
on which her tiny, shabby cottage
crouched stubbornly between those lofty "
commercial towers which, like fabled '
giants, had suddenly risen out of nothing
to overcome her. On the right it was the
new Insoluble Trust building, on the left
the sky-aspiring apartment store of Na
than Rosewasser. , !
These buildings were the commercial
pride of booming San Bruno, and that
Mrs. Casey's lot was wanted as the site
for a still more imposing structure was a
-secret so open that it was shouted dally
over every other telephone In town. Yet
Mrs. Casey continued to raise chickens on
her priceless holdings. -two dozen
scrawny Plymouth Rocks, whose daily.
, egg songs vied with the click of typewrit
ers in the offices on either side. Every
little while some undiscouraged . agent
would entef her domain prepared to offer
her as high as a quarter of a million dol
lars for "her place; and, like the hero in,
the ballad, said agent -would always -,
"walk right in, and turn round, and walk
right out again."
W. KETCHUM. from his window on
" the tenth floor, cast an evil eye
upon the widow's roof. He knew how to
clear half a million by buying that lot (
within thirty days, and he could have
murdered the big woman for her mulish
ness. . Like many another great' sinner, '
" he ; was an eager stone thrower. He
hated Mrs. Casey's stubborn resistance;
yet his own dog-in-the-manger attitude
concerning the sale of certain property
to the city park was common talk
among the honest Boosters. But it was
Ketchum's way. And, as he yearned for"
Mrs. Casey's lot with a great passion, he "
resolved to make life so miserable for '
her that she would have to move. So
Brian Coru Blaney happened upon her .
persecutions. - .
Anybody wpuld have noticed Brian
crossing Central Square that morning,
because he wore a suit that rivaled fhe
blue Jay in its vivid color. ;
- , "Somp'n burnin'," said Brian, sniffing, '
the odor of hot rags, Looking across the
square he saw a vast smudge of smoke
rising from the street and pouring
through the gut between the Insoluble
and the Rosewasser buildings. A wom
an's voice hurled invective in the tone of
outdoor suffrage oratory.
"They're smokin Mary out again,
said Policeman Jones of the park squad.
Brian pulled his green velvet hat over
his eyes and raced across the square in
the direction of the smudge. The gap
between the two vast buildings formed a
natural flue which drew the ' smoke
straight across Mrs. Casey's house.
A seedy workman, going about it with
all the dignity of a high priest perform-.
Ing a sacred rite, stood shoveling street
litter on the pyre. Another workman,
smoking a pipe, stood amusingly receiv
ing the volleying abuse that flamed from
the lips of a huge Irishwoman who car-
ried a bucket in either hand, setting one
down occasionally to add a telling ges
ture to some lofty flight of Billingsgate.
"Who sint ye here on this divil's er- r
rand?" she demanded. , ' 1 .
"Orders from the board o' health,
lady." said the workman.,
x "Th board o pesthouses, ye mean!1 I
know who's back o this Job Ketchum
an' Sellers, bad cess to ther black sowls!"
Her red forefinger pointed to a gilt
sign on the tenth floor of the Insoluble.
"May the mold rot ther dirthy money
an' th itch come to thlm that counts it!" '
she shrieked.
And, as a sort of emotional climax to
her curse she seized a bucket of water
and turned it over the head of the near-
est workman. Taking advantage of the
confusion, she made for the fire with the
other bucket, and was about to empty it
." when the second workman Jumped for-,
ward and defended the sacred flame with
a shovel held bayonet fashion. Mrs.
Casey gripped him by the hair, the work-
man rapped her knuckles with the han
dle of the shovel, and the crowd laughed.
Brian Boru Blaney, a bright-bued
streak of wrath, shot forth, from the
crowd and wrenched the shovel from the
man's hands. The embattled foemen
stood aghast at this unexpected appear
ance of the Blue Knight:
"Look here, Neroo." said he, his Celtic
eyes showing gun-metal blue as he held .
the spade like a basefall bat a convenient "
distance from the workman's nose, "I
guess this burlesque show's gone about
an act too far. Chuck the douse on Little
Vesuvius, Mrs. Casey!"
"God bless ye for a man!" sobbed the
fat woman, as the water struck the
smudge with a great hiss.
"There's a rale gintleman alive saints
be praised for th"' miracle!" '
The big woman advanced on Brian
with arms outstretched. ; His blushes
vying with his carroty hair, he escaped
through the mob and hurried away to
the offices of Ketchum & Sellers.
' . , ,. .
r W. KETCHUM, the Big Booster, was
r still at his window on the tenth
floor when the Little Booster came in. '
"What rwere you mixing up in that
for?" asked the i Big Booster savagely,
pointing to the blakened scrap heap in
front Of the cottage below.-
"A couple hired gunmen were tryin
to smoke the -old lady out of her home,
and I did the Doug Fairbanks act," said
.-Brian. .- . -
" "Those gunmen were hired by me.
- snapped C W. Ketchum. "Keep your
NEXT SUNDAY "THE PUYBOY" ? BY
hands off. They're my gunmen see?
not yours. ; . ,
"Gee!" almost whispered Brian . Boru.
"And you call yCtirself a Booster! A
fella like you's enough to drive the tour
ists back to Los Angeles."
"Get out of my office!", bellowed
Ketchum. . -
"In a minute,", said the Little Booster,
shifting the cigar to the, other side of his .
mouth,, but making no 'Other" move.
"I suppose you got lots of time, now
you're out of a Job," Ketchum said. , -
"I ain't out of & Job."
"What darn fool are you workin for
now?" : ... . ,
"Mrs. j Casey," replied Brian, calmly.
"She don't know I'm working for her,
but I am."
"I hope you'll begin by teaching her
some public spirit. For the self ish whim
of, a female mule, she's ' blocking the
progress of the whole town. It's a hold
up." ' ' .
"She ain't got a corner on the. hold-up
business." Brian suddenly stood and
leaned over Ketchum. "Now look here.
old kiddo, I happen to know that you're .
tryin' to hold up the park commission for
550,000 on six lots that ain't worth three.
Because the city - wants that strip for
their gateway on Ocean boulevard, you
think you can stick 'em like a porous
plaster. -.Tou're spoilin a public park by
your graft but I ain't goin to let you do
that. Before the week's up 111 make you
give that property to the city for what
it's worth."
AS MRS. CASEY had never given any
. sane excuse for resisting the offers
of plutocrats' and sticking to her miser-v,
able hut. Brian set forth to find an ex- 7
planation;, and he took the most direct
course by applying to Mrs. Casey herself.
It was not without misgivings that he "
swung the little picket gate between the
two skyscrapers and approached . the
dwarfish house. . .
"Who are ye V suddenly ' inquired a
harsh" contralto from the screen door.
"A friend." said Brian, halting dead In
his tracks. . t "?-. ' t.
"Ar-r-e ye a real-estater ?
Tea, ma'am."
"Then that for yer friendship!" The
:. screen doof suddenly popped open, and
a mop, hurled Javelin fashion, ; whiszed ;
less than six Inches from his right ear.
A flying teakettle smote him In the- el
bow, and Brian halted the advance long
enough to nurse nil wounds and consider
the advisability of carrying the door by
assault, when hostilities suddenly ceased.
, and Mrs. Casey, her great arms akimbo
at her broad waist, stood before him..
"Ye wud be com in" afther " she
began, i Then her expression suddenly
cleared. "Head o Saint Dinnis!" she
cried. Tit I alnt been tryin to kill the
only gintleman in San Bruno!"
. v - "Mrs. Casey." r Brian " began, standing
within easy dodging distance of a tree
trunk, yet removing his hat with consid
erable grace. "I value your appreciation!.
He picked up the mop and handed it to
her. . ... ..
"Come to." oried Mrs. Casey, opening
wide the door. The room he entered
was a broad, neat redwood kitchen. An
" advertisement representing a pretty child
playing with a cake of soap was pinned
to a beam- beside the window. An insur-
- ance lithograph shewing an. Impossibly
Idealized Infant picking daisies occupied
place of honor over the stove.
. "Have a cooky! Mrs. Casey proffered
a wooden bowl filled with crisp, golden
disks, replicas of a batch now baking In
the oven.
"Yum! Grandma's ginger map! ; Oh
you childhood!" Brian ' seized six and
smacked ecstatically.
"It's manny'a th' day since Tve had a
man to ate me cookies," .mourned Mrs.
Casey.- sitting ponderously -in a kitchen
chair and covering her red hands with,
her apron. "Lonesome I am the per
secuted av spalpeen, wld niver chick nor v '
child " '
She raised both hands to. the towering
skyscrapers on either side. '
"Here I set in me withered home be
tween thim divils crags like a sick clam ;
In the Giant's Causeway. -Wirra th day!"
She began to weep loudly into her -checkered
calico apron. Brian rose and
laid a sympathetic hand on her5 shape
less shoulder.
"Honest, it's too bad." he said;, "But
you're playin' an .awful long shot Mrs.
Casey a million to one against you.
. But it means a fortune to you tomorrow
if you move. Why don't you beat it to
pastures new?
Me?" Mrs. Casey bounced to 'her ,
feet, a mountain of - indignant fire.
"Niver will I move not till their feet rot r
away wid waitin. D'ye think I'd sell out
an' give him. the dirty Scandinavian
Swade, th haf o' me . profit ?".'
. "Who's the Scandinavian Swede?"
asked Brian, leaping to the crucial ques
tion. '-" ' ' .' '
"Te're a gintleman, though In a bad ,
business,", answered Mrs. Casey. Be that'
token. Ill tell ye what no man knows.
Siventeen years ago. I was married be th ( -
priest to wan Martin Casey, and come to
live in this, house.- Martin was a good
man except whin dhrunk. which was
most o the time. Five years we lived
widout child, whin wan day Martin, who
was drivin a sprlnklin cart more .
shame to th wather! fell from th seat
an expired in his alcohol."'
.
"MTN THIM days this house stood to'th
midst o fields.. I owned no more
than th lot I live on, wid th little shack
out back, now used as a hincoop; Wan
day along comes a fella name av Oscar .
Hansen, a white faced divil av a hand-
some Swade. thin worrukin as motorman
on th San Pedro trolley. Th shack
. where me hlns now roost I sold him for
th price of wan hundhred dollars great
wealth to me In thlm days. Th' deed fer
th whole lot was still in me name, but
we. made a conthract be th lawyer that '
we was to share th profit half an' half
If we Iver sold it. Thin what did that
divil Oscar do but come a-courtin' av
' me. wid his- china-blue . eyes an' white
heart. Crazy fool that X was for lovin .
him they're wonderful ladies' mm, thlm
: S wades. So we was pledged to be mar '
ried be th priest
- u "Me an Oscar waa to wed on a Thurs
dah. HinrV Eagan av th' Gripman'a union
to stand for th' groom. . It was on Wed
nesday marnin whin alpng comes Hinry
Eagan wld a face longer n' me father's "
chimney. Mra Casey.' he says, says he, -
' p re pare for th' wor-r-rst. , "I am that,'
says I; .Tm preparin to git married.'
Naw. ye ain't. says Eagan. 'Explain yer-
' tAlt,' I says, says L ' At which wor-r-ruda
Hinry Eagan stands twlstin th rusty
brass buttons av his coat. - "Mrs. Casey.'
says he. if It's th 'truth ye most know,'
Oscar Hansen ran -off last night wid a
V gilt-roofed biscuit-shooter from th Trol-
ley's End restaurant; an they was mar
ried be th' Justice.' I hurled th lie In his '
face, an followed It wld a pan o hot
v mush, , But it was th God's truth he told
aw.". - ..
"So Oscar "flew his kites with the
blonde? asked Brian.
' "Where he wint God knows, and how
long heU shtay th dlvfl cares, she mut
tered. "But wan thing I know.- White
coward that he is, he'll niver dare show
.his mushroom face at me door to) claim
th' half av his property from th Widdy 1
Casey." . .
"So that's why you won't sell! Tou're
holdln on to spite Oscar.?
- ' ( , .
PHE coaxing out of Mrs. Casey, during
the few days following, was a process
involving much roundabout - diplomacy,
which Brian finally accomplished by lay-,
ing siege to her better nature. Although
she had known few children in the flesh,
her love for childhood as an idea amount
ed to a monomania. So Brian called fre
quently, bearing gifts catering to her sav
ing .weakness. Once it. was an ostenta-
tious gilt-framed chromo labeled "Tiny
Toddlers." Brian patiently scanned the
daily papers for bright sayings of chil
dren with which to interlard his conver
sation. -
Mrs. Casey's ' garrulity, corked up for
years, gushed forth in a flood of com
plaints and confidences. At last when
she lamented her sleepless nights and fits
of depression, Brian saw his chance, and .
said:. " .
"What you need's fresh air."
- "Fresh air don't rcure a sick - heart,
she moaned. . "
"California alrll cure anything from '
corns to cancers," he replied, with op
timism. "Come.' take a Jog in my auto..,
"I ain't got no clothes." she objected.
"Wear a tablecloth and be comfort
able," he suggested. . T11 be around in
an hour with a runabout built for two. ,
"A beau at my age!" exclaimed Mrs.
Casey. r - . ,
Prompt to the minute, Brian drove his
hired 'car up to the gate. Mrs. Casey had
. attired herself in an alpaca dress of other,
slimmer days. The sleeves clung sausage-tight
to her fat arms, and a compll-
cated series of ruffles climbed her circu
lar skirt like a winding staircase around
the Tower of BabeL -
"I alnt in style," she announced, tim-"
Idly, straightening her tiny plush hat
. which ' perked up at the cornera, In the
manner of a Chinese pagoda. ,
"Cheer up! Tou will be next year!"
her guardian reassured her.
So they were off with a honk. Mrs. '
' Casey in a palsy of nervousness, and
Brian never looking up ' as they drove
down the main street of San Bruno.
Their passing constituted a serious
flurry in the real estate market Clerks
in the windows of various offices ex-'
claimed: ''Mrs. Casey!" in dread unison.
C Pitman Pike, standing under the gold
sign bearing his name, dropped his cigar
and forgot to pick it up. . And in the of
fice of the Sualand Improvement com
pany. C B. Brlnkhaus. president, rushed
to the telephone and shrieked to his
, Junior partner: "Blaneys running off
with Mrs. Casey. For gosh sake "
' Then he dropped the receiver, dumb with
the thought that the precious widow had
already disappeared in a cloud of dust
wearing toward the declining sun.-
To avoid publicity. Brian purposely
took his course througL bumpy and illu
sive by-paths.
Th Inside av me la churned antirery,"
moaned Mrs. Casey, holding on,
"It gives you that wealthy feeling. re
plied her esoort at the wheel.
"There do be some pleasures m pov
" erty," she philosophized. -
- But " as they swung Into the smooth
State road she expanded Into "P, her
face assuming the hypnotized expression
peculiar -to the chronle. motorist. The
- ocean breeze stirred old desires in her
heart She pointed out a broken wharf
where her husband had taken her to flab
HUGH v McBIAIR
In their courting days. A flock of pell
cans swung across the mists In Imita
tion. of a Hokasal print .
"I well remlrnber th' time me husband
shot wan ' thim bur-r-rda an"
"Something's wrong with the engine,"
said Brian, grimly. The car was. notice- .
ably slowing down. A-few hundred yards
ahead appeared the desolate, box-like
shanties of Ocean Terrace. They were
approaching an untidy, ragged tent which
' rjtood. like the outcast of. beggars, a re
spectful distance from the settlement
The car stopped dead.
"What's th matter av It?" asked Mrs.
Casey.
"Differentials tangled In the hub." said
Brian, vaguely, gazing into the hood.
"
M'WO towheads peeped curiously out
- from a flap in, the. tent beside the
road. A baby's cry could be heard from
behind the canvas.
"Th little dartlnts!" cried Mrs. Casey,
raptuously. "Come here, childer, an
talk, to yer Aunt Mary!"
A barefooted boy of about ten ap
proached the car and turned a pair of
scared eyes upon the big woman.
"Ma's awful sick." he said, pointing to
the tent Brian -Jumped suddenly, and
knocked his head against the flap of the
hood.
"Sick!" said Mrs. Casey, getting down
I ponderously.
"She's got ' a little baby, an she was
took with a spell when she got up to do
the washin, an pa's dead."
"I'll run and hustle a doc," exclaimed
Brian, cranking up the supposedly help-
.less car and starting away in a miracu
lous Jiffy. The boy took Mrs. Casey's
big red hand and led her into the tent.
A thin woman lay moaning on a con
. fused pile of .bedclothes .in a corner. A
very small girl was attempting to lift a
red-faced bundle of squalls, while the boy
stooped to tuck a blanket around his
mother.
"Doctor!" said-the woman faintly, as
Mrs. Casey leaned over her.
"There's wan on th way, dearie," the
widow reassured her. as she raised the.
woman's head -on the pillow and ar
ranged her faded yellow hair.
,' When Brian returned with a doctor
' from the village, he beheld a strange
sight Mrs. Casey . heating water on a
, stove in the yard, while with her good
right forearm she supported a sleeping
child against her brpad. sterile bosom.
"This places makes the fresh air smell
kind o close." said Brian, indicating the
rubbish that surrounded the tent. "A
widow with three kids down and out
'ain't it fierce!"- .
"There's groceries in the cupboard."
Mrs. Casey informed him. "But what do
the cherub know about eookin?"
. . Brian branded two- dollars to the boy. .
.."Rush the milk can to the'.grocer's." .
:' he said, "and brace Heine Schmajx for a
dozen lamb chops." . ;
- The doctor, with the usual offended
air bf needy country doctors on charity
eases, emerged from the tent.
"Why wont these women stay under
orders?" he snapped. Out of the county
hospital three weeks : what does she
want to get up and do a day's washing
- for?"
"Because she dont know how to play
golf, maybe." suggested Brian. v
"Perhaps," said the doctor, dryly. "I
dont think she would have enough to
- eat, except for an order of groceries
- someone sent her from town last week.
Her husband was drowned off the wharf
Fourth of July. At any rate, she's, got
- to stay in bed and - be nursed fer a
month.'
KAH1J3R NEXT ' SUNDAY
TH be th nurse." Mrs. Casey volun
teered. .. "You're on! 'said Brian.
- "I'll have a word with you about the
ease," remarked the doctor, beckoning
Mrs. Casey Into the' tent.
"Twenty-eeven acres of ripe tin cans
and the happiest tribe o flies I ever'
met!" Brian iriused. as he hunted up an
old shovel and began digging a trench
to bury the litter In the yard. -
"
. f lum doctor administered an opiate to
J- the mother and left her sleeping.
Two visitors, assisted by the .small boy.
performed the labor of Hercules In mak
ing, the place habitable. Brian held the
baby In various attitudes, while Mrs.
Casey washed clothes and the boy turned
the wringer. Then Mrs. Casey would
snatch the baby from Imminent death
and set Brian to sweeping, repairing holes
in the tent and splicing the clothes-line.
"If I was rich, what a home I could
give these childer an ther ma!" She
pressed the baby savagely against her
shoulder.
-you'd be richer n Hetty If you sold
your lots." Brian hinted.
"Tea An' if I cut off me feet I could
walk on, me hands." she sniffed.
"Mrs. Casey, do you know why you're
here?" Brian replied. ' -
"Yer car-r-r busted down and'"
"It busted accidentally on purpose."
he confessed. "I've got you on this Job
because it's your last call to the kinder
garten. Do you want to help these kids
or don't you?"
"Mary Mother knows how I want to!"
"Mary Mother wants you to have-'em,
Mrs. Casey. But you're a blind and stulr
born woman now dont blow up till I
finish my spieL To spite the memory
of Oscar Hansen you're making yourself
and everyone else miserable. If you did
the right thing by these purps, you could
send that boy to college either Tale or
business; you could buy those two babies '
silk petticoats, give the mother a home
with all the refinements from Paris to
pianola. But no! Tou prefer to raise
hena"
fWha't can I do?" she asked, humbly,
lifting the sleeping girl.
Brian promptly unfolded a typewritten
paper before her eyea
"This is an option on your property,
sale price $250,000. Sign here, please.
Tonight I can. offer it to any one of
twenty deal era"
"Will they take It? "
"Will a cat steal fish?" Brian shook
- out a fountain pen. -
"For me babies!" whispered Mrs.
Casey, as she knelt under the candle light
and affixed her scraggly signature.
She was silent like the southern stars
as. still carrying the sleeping child, she
followed Brian out to the car. He took
his place at the wheel.
"Be th way. what's th name o that
sick woman in there?" she asked in a
low tone.
, "She's the widow of Oscar Hansen."
said Brian, distinctly. . .
"God's will!" whispered Mrs. Casey
as she turned awav. The little girl, half
waking, threw her . arms around the big
woman's neck. v .
r
T IGHTS glimmered from bedroom win
dows in' a prosperous residence dis
trict of San Bruno as Brian stopped his
car in front, of a white stucco villa and
rang at the oaken door!
"Who's there?" The voice of C. W.
. Ketchum grated from above.
"B. B. vTBlaneys my name and every"
B In it stands for Business." the voice be
low bubbled.
"Can't your business wait till tomor
row?"' "Sure. It can wait till Alton Parker's
elected. Tou're the one that's got to get
a' move on." . Brian started to stroll away.
"Hey!" 111 be down!" "
. The Big Booster himself opened the
door. He wore pink pongee pajamas.
"What's the fool proposition now?"
He rubbed his eyea
"A ten-day option on Mrs. Casey's
property at two hundred and fifty thou'."
announced Brian In a small, tired voice.
"What!" Ketchum's hands clutched
Imaginary values.. "Sell It to me!"
"It's got strings on it ol man. "Ton
know what I told you the other day
I'd smoke you out of your property be
fore you smoked the widow out o hers.
Well, here' comes the tar-boiler!"
"What do you mean?"
Til sell you this opUon dirt cheap,
provided you're a good boy and do what
I say. I want you to sit down and write
a fetter to the park board, offering that
park strip for $000." '
"It's an outrage!" said Ketchum.
"Sure 'it is. The strip's only worth
three."
Ketchum- went to a desk and wrote the
letter to the board.
. "Ill take It with me." said Brian,
reaching for the letter. "The board
meets tomorrow at ten. "111 get Bobbins
to rush It through, and when the bill of
sale is in my hands, I get my commission
$5000." v .
'- "Tou might trust me a little." said the
Big Booster.
"I might," agreed the Little Booster,
putting the letter safely away.
And next day, after the deal was closed
for all parties, Ketchum handed Brian
his commission, and laughed in rare good
.humor. . .
"Ton might have asked five times that
amount."
- "I know." rippled the optimist, "but 1
got my money's worth."
(Ooprrisfct. . Al rfcht ' rrA.
Frinat sy
nwmot with VMropaXUn X
Tort.) .