Heppner gazette., July 01, 1909, Image 2

The
Main
Chance
Meredith Nichols
Copymout I'M
Thi Bobbs-Mekkiix Compaut
est, straight
forward pic
ture of the life
of to-day in a
v i d e awake
western town.
It gives the
reader a pleas
ant impression
of a type of people and a phase of
life well wjrth a closer acquaint
ance. It is a crisp, forceful delineation
of the career of William Parker,
a prosperous banker and pro
moter, whose beautiful daughter,
Evelyn, is the heroine of the
story. John Saxton, an enter
prising: Costonian, is sent west
to close up some ranch and other
investments for a Massachusetts
trust company. This brings 'lira
in contact with varied type? of
humanity all of whom play an
interesting- part in a plot involv
ing: the manipulation of a traction
line, the kidnaping- of the banker's
child and other events which go
to make up an intensely graphic
narrative.
Thij M.ux Chaxce is a ro
mance of youth," of love, and of
success honestly won. It is
buoyant, yet full of pathos,
wholesome humor, convincing
realism, admirable diction and
bright sayings. Added to this is
a rare, common sense touch that
shows the practical side of real
western life.
(.'II APT Lit I.
"Well. sir. they say I'm croolo-d '."
Will in in I'orttT. president of the Clark
eon National Rank, tipped back his swivel
chair ami watched the effect of his dec
laration on the young mau who sat talk
ing to him.
"That's said of every successful man
nowadays, isn't it?" asked John Saxton.
"They say I'm crooked. ' repeated Por
ter, wita a narrowing of the eyes, "but
they don't say it very loud, and I guess
they don't any of them want to have to
prove it. I'm afraiu those Boston friends
of yours have given us up as a bad lot,
and they've sent you out here to get their
money, and I don't blame them. Well,
sir; that money's got to come out in
time, but it's going to take time and
money to get it."
"I believe they snt me because I had
plenty of time." said Saxton, smiling.
"Well, we want to you you win out,"
returned Porter. "And now what can I
do to start you off? I warn you solemn
ly against the liotels in this town; but
we've got a fairly decent club up here,
and you'd better stay there till you get
acquainted. Just look over the papers
till I get rid of these letters and I'll be
free."
Porter turned to his desk. There was
en air of great alertness in his small,
lean figure as he p;;shed buttons to .sum
mon various members of the clerical force
and rapidly dictated ters? telegrams and
letters to a stenographer. Saxton was
Impressed by the banker's perfect confi
dence and ease.
John Saxton had bepn Rent to Clarkson
by the Nponset Trust Company of Bos
ton to represent the interests of a group
of clients who had made rash investments
iu several of the Trans-Missouri Slates.
l'ore loMire had, in many instances, re-
rillted ill the transfer to themselves of
much town and ranch property which
was. in the conditions existing in the
early !'!:. an exce eiling'.y slow a.-set. It
was necessary that some one on the
ground should care fjr these interests.
The Clarkson National Hank had been
-xefcisiiv a general supervision, but, as
tine of the investors told his fellow suf
ferers in Boston, they should have an
agent whom they cou.l call home and
abuse. ad here was Saxton. a conscien
tious and steady fellow, who had some
knowledge of the country, and who. more
over, ii"i ded something to do. S.ixton's
licj.iaiiil.KHe with the West had been
j.ai;:id by a bitter experience of r.in -liiiig
n Wyoming. A Mtzz H Ii.t.l d strove
Lis cat:'..-. and t sn1 s-'ou-H ib-j. region
in laii'l value; in t ie i.c' ;.oi.oo i of hi
J atl'il li.'d ! ft !:!!! I ticl !l'n r I; ;vi:h il
property for whbh the-,- as co inar!; t.
His fr;"M l a 1 b en correct 1:1 t h- as
mtiiptton i'mf lie io- i:n;i!o.; itie ;, and
ie was. iii'ij.-over. jilad of the chance to
jet away f;-' ui home, where the impres
sion was leakiu:: headway that be had
failed at soin thiiig in the va;;iie, non-lot.T-s'.-pay
ire West.
"Now." said Poller, presently, scrutin
izing teh-jraiii carefully before signing
it. "I ll t ie oil up to the o.Ii f we've
Irt-cn keejiing for your people, and show
you whit it looks bke.-
The room proved to be a small one at
I be top of the building. On the round
f lass door was inscribed "The Interstate
lrrlfflion Company." The room con
is
tained a safe, a flat-top desk and a few
chairs. Several maps hung on the wall,
engineers' charts of ranch lands and irri
gation ditches.
"It ain't pretty," said Porter, critical
ly, "but if you don't like it you can move
when you get ready. The bank Is your
landlord, and we don't charge you much
for it. You've doubtless got your Inven
tory of stuff with you, and here in the
safe you'll rind the accounts of these com
panies, copies of public records relating
to them, mid so on. You're going up
ljinst a pretty tough proposition, yonng
,ian. You'll hear a bard luck story
wherever you go out here just now ; peo
ple who owe your friends money will be
mighty sorry thoy can't pay. Many of
the ranch lands your people own will be
worth something after a while. That
Colorado irrigation scheme ought to pan
out iu time, and I believe it will ; but
you've got to nurse all these things. Make
your principals let you alone. Those
fellows get in a hurry at the wrong time
that's my experience with Eastern In
vestors. Tell them to go to Kurope get
rid of them for a while, and make them
give you a chance to work for them.
They're not the only pebbles. I'll send
the combination of the safe up by the
boy, and you can get a bird's-oye view of
the situation before lunch. Mr. heatou,
our cashier, is away to-day, but he's fa
miliar with these matters and will be
glad to help you when he gets home.
When you get stuck call on us. And drop
dewn about 12 :30 and go up to the club
for lunch. Take it easy; you can't do it
all in one day."
"I hope I shan't be a nuisance to you,"
said t.ie younger nic'i. "I'm going to
fight it out on the best ltnes I know how
if it takes several summers."
"Well, it'll take thorn all right," said
Torter, sententious!?.
Left to himself Saxton examined his
new quarters, found a feather duster
hanging iu a corner and brushed the rirt
ftom the scanty furniture. This done he
fat down by the open window, through
'hi!i the breeze came cool out of the
great valley ; and here he could see, far
over '.'lie roofs and spires of the town,
the bluffs that marked the broad bed of
the. tawny Missouri. He was not' as
iuioyai't ns his last worths to the banker
implied. Here he was, he reflected, a
man of gcod education, as such things
go, who had lost his patrimony in a sin
gle veiiruie. He had been sent, partly
our of compassion, he felt, to take charge
of investments that were admitted to be
abnost hopelessly bad. The salary prom
ise.! would provide for him comfortably,
and that- vns about all; anything fur
ther would depend upon himself, the sec
retary of the Neponset Trust Company
had told him; it would, he felt, depend
much more particularly on the making
ot by benign powers of the consider
able part of the earth's surface in which
his principals' money lay hidden. As his
eyes wandered to one of the office walls,
the black train of a great transcontinen
tal railroad caught and held his attention.
On one of its northern prongs lay the re
gion ( f his first defeat.
"Three years of life are up there," he
meditated, "and all my good dollars are
scattered along the rig,Ut of way." Many
things came back to him vividly how
the wind used to howl around the little
ranch house, and how be rode through the
snow among his dying cattle in the great
storm that had been his undoing. With
his eyes etilj resting on the map, he re
curred to his early school days and to
his four years at Harvard. There was
a burden of heartache in these recollec
tions. None of the professions had ap
pealed to him, and he had not heeded
his father's wish that he enter the law.
The elder Saxton, who was himself a
lawyer of moderate success, died before
John's graduation ; he had lost his moth
er in his youth, and his only remaining
relative was a sister who married before
he left college.
A review of these brief and discourag
ing annals did not hearten him; but he
fell back upon the better mood with
which he had begun the morning; he had
a new chance, and he proposed to make
the best of it. lie put aside his coat and
hat, and opened his desk. The banker
had sent up the combination of the safe
and Saxton began inspecting its contents
and putting bis office in order.
The books and papers began to inter
est him. and he was soon classifying
the properties that had fallen to his
care. He was so deeply occupied that
he did not markthe flight of time and
was surprised when a boy came with a
message from Porter that he was ready
to go to luncheon.
"You mustn't overdo the thing, young
man." said the banker, amiably, as he
closed his desk. "Don't you adopt our
Western method of working all the hours
there are. I do it now because my neigh
bors and customers would talk about me
if I didn't, and say that I had lost my
grip in my old age."
The Clarkson Club stood at the edge
of the commercial district, and its brick
walls rose hot and staring in the July
sun as Porter and Saxton approached.
"Hefe we are," said Porter, leading
the way into the wide hall. "We'll ar
range about your business relations later.
There's a very bad lunch ready upstairs,
and we'll go against that first."
There were only a few men in the dining-room,
seated at a round table, por
ter exchanged salutations with them as
he passed on to n small table at the end
of l lie room. Those who were of his
own age called Porter, "Billy," and he
included them all in the careless nod of
old acquaintance.
They went from the table for an in
spection of the club, and arranged with
the clerk in the office, for a room on the
third floor. They stopped in the loung
ing room, where the men from the round
table were now talking or looking at
i!'-vs;.;iers. Porter introduced Saxton
to ail of them. S"eral ofthe men who
sI'.ooa hiiii'is with Saxton were railroad
olhVial-. but nearly every line of busi-
l:ess was represented.
"If ou're going with ni" stiid I'or
t t. "you'd better ge t a move on you.'"
The whole group went out together. Por
ter bavins Sixton to the others, with
that confidence' in human friendliness
which N peculiar to the social intercourse t
of men. They made him fee) their honest
wi'li to consider him one of themselves.
mtkine a point of saying to him, as they
dropped out one ley one, that they hoped
to him often. Porter led the way
back down Yarney street, carrying his
hat in his hand. He said .at the bank
door: "Now you make them give you
what you want at the club. I'vt fot
house up here on Varney strtet come
us for dinner to-morrow night anf sjt'll
see If we can't raise a breeze for yon.
It's hotter than Sues here, and you'd bet
ter take my advice about starting in
slow."
He went Into the bank and Saxton
took the elevator for his own office.
CHAPTER II.
Saxton was not over-sensitive, but the
stiffness and hardness of the club house
were not without their disagreeable Im
pression on him ns he sat at dinner to
ward the close of his first day in (Mark
on. Two of the men to whom Porter
had introduced him at noon proved to he
fellow lodgers, and they exchanged greet
ings with him from the table where they
sat together. They unsociably read their
evening papers as they ate, and left be
fore he finished. He was watching the
fading colors of a bntiinnt sunset when
a young mau appeared at the door, and
after a brief inspection of Suxton's back
walked over to him.
"Aren't you Mr. Saxton? I thought
you must be he. My uame is Raridan.
Don't let me break iu on your medita
tions," he ndded, taking the chair which
the waiter drew out for him. "I met Mr.
Porter a while ago, and he adjured me
to be good to you. I don't know whether
this is obeying orders" he broke off in
a laugh "that depends on the point of
view."
"You are guilty of a very Christian
act," Saxton said. "I was just wonder
ing whether, after the sun had gone down
behind that ridgo over there, the world
would still be going round."
"The world never stops entirely here,"
returned Raridan, "but the motion some
times gets very slow. 'Mr. Porter tells
me that you're to be one of us. Let me
congratulate us and you !"
Warrick Raridan was, socially speak
ing, the most available man in the Clark
son Blue Book. He was a graduate in
law who did not practice, for he hnd,
unfortunately, been left alone in the
world at "20, with an income that seemed
wholly adequate for his immediate or fu
ture needs. He maintained an office,
which was fairly well equipped with the
literature of his profession, but this was
merely to take away the reproach of his
buster fellow citizens. Raridan's office
was the rendezvous for a variety of com
mittees to which he was appointed by
such unrelated bodies as the Clarkson
Dramatic Club and the Diocesan Board
of Missions of the Episcopal Church. He
appeared every Sunday at the cathedral,
which was the fashionable church In
Clarkson, where he passed the plate foi
the alms and oblations of the well-dressed
congregation.
He was capable of quixotism of the
most whimsical sort. He had, for a year,
taken his meals at a cheap boarding
house in order that lie might maintain
two Indian boys in school. He was not
at all aggrieved when, at the end of the
first year, they ran away and resumed
tribal relations with their brethren. He
chaffed himself about it to his friends.
It was not enough to say that Warry
Raridan could lead a german or tie an
Ascot tie better than any other man ou
the Missouri River ; for he was also thi
best reformed man in that same strenu
ous valley concerning the traditions of
the English stage, and was a fairly
good actor himself, as amateurs go.. He
had a slight literary gift, which he cul
tivated for his own amusement. His hu
mor was fine and keen, and he occasion
ally wrote screeds for the local papers,
or mailed pleasant jingles to his intimate
friends.
"I'll wager that if you stay here a
year you'll never leave," said Raridan,
ns they went downstairs together. "I've
lieen about a good deal, and know that
we who live here miss a lot of comfort
and amusement which go as a matter of
course in older towns. But there's a
roominess and expausiveness about things
out here that I like, and I believe most
men who Htrike it early enough like it,
and are lonesome for it If they go away.
"I think I understand how you feel
about it," said Saxton. "There were
times in Wyoming when Western life
seemed pretty arid, but when I went
back to Boston I was hCmesick for Chey
enne." (To be continued.)
MODERN UNDERTAKING.
Method Tlint Have Greatly Simpli
fied the arlnjf for the Dead.
Modern methods of undertaking now
call for the highest possible skill In
embalming and arranging every detail
of burin!.
From the old methods of placing a
body on ice, with its attendant Insani
tary conditions, the undertaker has
reached n high point of perfection . in
embalming, the New York Sun says,
but not content with the advanc-M
methods experiments are now under
way which will. It is contended, make
it unnecessary even to make nny In
cision in a body when the embnlming
process is leing performed.
One of the must advanced undertak
ers In this country says that within
the next five years if will be possible to
embalm by placing the body in an air
tight chamber and by subjecting it to
a pressure of the gases of certain em
balming nmterials to perform the work
which is now done by injecting fluids
into the veins.
Several firms in New York and other
large cities have done much to relievo
families of the very troublesome work
which follows death In small houses,
boarding houses or hotels by fitting lip
chapels where bodies are taken until
ready for burial. Embalming Is done
in the establishment, burial clothes are
furnished and watchers if roipilred.
These firms also have clergymen to
perform services, lawyers to attend to
wills or insurance papers.
t'rjlim i:k.
The most disagreeable part of fry
ing eggs is the sputtering and flying
of the hot fat. 'I his may 1m avoided
by sifting a little flour In the pan le
fore adding the eggs. This you will
find to work like n charm and esjx
cially will the difference Ik noticed
where there is a large family to sup-'
I'ly-
The State of New Jerey has Import
ed five stallions from Great Britain to
enable Its farmers to produce a higher
tjp of horses.
t'HH LESSOR
UnfsHerlnc fathers who made the Any
And whose firm-wrought words into
deeds succeeded,
Conies there not a voice from your Hps
of clay
That other Fourth-of-Julyi srs need
edf Whew Privilege fats at th public purse,
When Rights are pillaged, or starve un
heeded, Then sooner or later, for better or worse,
Another Fourth-of-July is needed.
i
When the people's tribunes taint the law
Till the stream runs rank and' poison
weeded, When they pilfer the wheat and leave us
straw, t
Another Fourth-of-July Is noeded.
When the treadmill prisons the child of
toll
Till the baby brows are wan and bead
ed, Wherever such shadow blights the soil
Another Fourth-of-July is needed.
While a race still drinks of the bitter
cup
And tho earth with the victims' bones
Is seeded,
The cry of the blood-blotched stones goes
up
That another Fourth-of-July Is needed.
For tho fearless fathers who made the
day
Far more to the world than the day
they deeded ;
The spirit still lives, though the lips are
clay,
When another Fourth-of-July is needed.
Edmund Vance Cook.
J
Ths Crosspatch Marfs
Fourth o' July
The Crosspatch Man was sick again,
and this time it must be pretty bad,
for all the morning Meredith had been
watching the servants spread straw
before the house and muffle the big,
shiny door-bell.
"Poor man!" mamma said, pitying
ly. "He 13 sick so often!"
"But he's a Crosspatch Map!" mut
tered Meredith stiffly. Then he repent
ed and looked as shamefaced as a very
little boy with a very round, dimpled
face could look. "I'm sorry he's ve-ry
sick," he said, slowly. "I s'pose it
hurts even Crosspatch Men."
Mamma did not notice. She was
having her little noon "gossip" with
papa, and they were still talking about
their invalid neighbor.
"It Isn't quite so bad as It seems, you
know," papa was saying. "He always
has the straw laid down and things
muffled when he has one of his worst
nervous attacks. It doesn't mean all
that it does in most cases. He 13 ter
ribly afflicted by noise at almost any
time."
"Noise! I should think so!". That
was ftom Meredith, who pricked up
his ears at the -word. Didn't he know
how the Crosspatch Man felt 'bout a
noise? Didn't he belong to the Rudd
Stteet Second? Wasn't he captain?
And oh, my, the times he'd seen the
Crosspatch Man a-scowling and a-futh-lng,
when they marched past his win
dow !
"But Fourth of July will be a terri
ble day to him poor man!" went on
mamma's gentle voice. That made
Meredith start a little. He had been
thinking about Fourth o' July, too.
(Did he think much of anything else
nowadays?) He had been going over
In his mind all the glorious program
of the day. For the Rudd Street Sec
ond was going to celebrate in a worthy
manner. They were going to even
outdo themselves each year and
hadn't they had the proud honor of
being the noisiest street In the city
for two Fourth o' Julys a-runnlng?
Let 'em just wait till they heard thl.3
Fourth o' July!
It was three days off. That would
give the Crosspatch Man time to have
the straw taken up and the bell tin
muffled, for his worst "times" never
lasted more than two or three days.
"Then he'll have to cotton up his
ears," mused Meredith, philosophical
ly, watching the big foreign servant
that wore a turban go back and forth
past the Crosspatch Man's window.
The house Meredith lived in and the
Crosspatch Man's house were quite
rlose together, so it was easy to watch
things.
Unfortunately for an Invalid with
the terrible affliction called "nerves,"
Rudd Street was a regular nest of
boys. There were boys everywhere on
It. You tan pgiinst boys when you
wetit east, and boys ran' against yon
when you went west. Boys sprang up
In the most unexpected places. The
houses seemed to be runninr over wl .h
boys. And really, there was at least
one boy and on an average two or
three in every house on Meredith's
side,' except in the Crosspatch Man's
house. Oh. dear me, no, there weren't
any be'ys there!
On the other side cf the street you
had to. skfn the "middlest" house and
Miss Quiliiot and Miis Eromathca's
oh. JC3, and the minister's house, of
eour.i Miss Quillot and Miss Ero
mathea were old nnids. nr.i the min
ister oh. no. he wasn't an eld maid,
but yon couldn't expect h!m to have
boys in the house, for how could he
ever write his sermons?
So It was, as I said, an unfortunate
Btreet to have "nerves" cn. And the
CroMpatch Man had fo many!
The three days In between soon
went away, and It was the night
the very night before It! There were
only a few hours more, for of course
you didn't have to wait till the sun
rose on Fourth of July.
il'jrsdith had drilled ths "Rflfid
MAKING READY
Street Second for the last time, and
dispersed his men. He was on his
way home to supper. Going by the
Crosspatch Man's .house, he heard
voices distinctly issuing from an open
window. He couldn't help hearing, It
was so quiet In the street. Perhaps it
was the 'lull before the storm."
"The sahib cannot bear It," a gentle,
soothing voice was saying, but Mere
dlt recognized the indignation mixed
with the pity in it. "The sahib will
be again sick."
Then came Meredith's astonishment,
for the Crosspatch Man's voice was
answering, and it was" quite calm and
gentle; and It said:
"Of course I shall be sick again.
Harl! I've made all my plans to per
ish. But what can you expect? The
little chaps must have their Fourth
o' July. I was a little chap myself
once. Shut the window, Hari. There's
a suspicion of a draught."
t Meredith stood still In sheer amaze
ment, and watched the turban-man
close the window. He was a little chap
himself once, the Crosspatch Man was!
And how kind his voice had sounded
not a bit crosspatchy! Then Meredith
remembered how weary and full of
pain it had sounded, too. It made
him sorry for the Crosspatch Man.
sorrier than he had ever been before.
"He's a-dreadln' It like sixty. He's
'spectln' to perish," Meredith said
aloud. "It's goln' to make him sick
of course that's what he said to the
turban-man. An' he wa3 a little chap
once, an' his voice was kind an' tired
out."
Then Meredith went home and
perched himself up on the banister
post In the hall, to think. That was
where he always thought things big
things, you know. This was, oh, my,
such a big thing!
"I'm cap'n," mused Meredith, knit
ting his little fair brows. "I can say,
'Go, an' thou ghost,' like the man In
the Bible: but they'll be dreadful dis'
polnted, the Rudd Street Seconds will
be. Still well, he's sick an' he had a
kind spot in his voice, an' ho used to
be a little chap, too, so of course he
used to bang things an' make noises.
I don't think he sounded much like a
Crosspatch Man."
In a little while, after a little more
tough thinking, Meredith slipped down
and out cf the door, up the street. lie
got together the Rudd Street Seconds
and made a little speech, as a captain
may, to his men.
The next day the city and all Amer
ica celebrated Fourth o' July, and
Rudd Street was famous again, but
this time for being the very quietest
street in all the city! There were just
as many boys in it, too, as ever.
The Crosspatch Man's white, ner
vous face smoothed and calmed as the
day wore on, and at last it actually
smiled In a gentle way, as If he was
thinking about something pleasant.
And the captain of the Rudd Street
Second and hl3 brave men, drilling
and popping and banging In a distant
street, were happy, too. Youth's Com
panion. 1' lie In Alio lit Firecrackers.
The greater part of the almost
$2,000.(100 worth of firecrackers annu
ally exported by China comes to New
York. And the United States stands
next to China In its use of them.
Thousands of Chinese men, women
and children work at the making of
firecrackers, for there are no manu
factories there, the work being done
by hand. Tney receive only about
THE DAY AFTER THE
FOR THE FOURTH.
$1.40 for making 10,000 firecrackers,
laboring from six in the morning un
til 11 at night seven days a week. So
a Chinese woman or child works like
a slave for two days to earn what Is
spent on a few bunches of firecrack
ers by the urchin bent on doing Jus.
tlce to the Glorious Fourth.
MEMORIES OF THE FOURTH.
i9
If
Have you ever mused, In silence, upon a
summer's dH.v,
And let your thoughts run riot, and your.
feelings have full sway.
As you sprawled full-length upon the grass
In some secluded dell
And breathed the lialmy country air, and
smelt the country smell?
And as you nme,
And gentiy snooze,
Itetween thinks.
You rememlier those Jinks,
When spirits were high
on the Fourth of July.
There was little Willie Browning, ths werst
of all the hoys,
Who hnd a uic niiT cannon that made all
kinds of noise ;
And when t tie cannon wouldn't go, he blew
Into tlie muzzlf,
Hut'uiuit hecome of Willie's teeth has 1
ways lieen a puzzle.
How the folks looked askancs
At the hciiIs of our pants
When those giant skyrockets
Went off In our pockets.
I ice whiz 1
What fun the Fourth Is !
When the red hot July sun hogan to wink
the clouds away.
We were out with whoops and shoutings to
i cleiirnte Hie day :
With pli-ce of punk In one hand and crack
ers In the other,
We'd troop Inline later In the dav for llifc
sce.l oil - and MOTH KK.
I'.iit our hums
Were sm:ill coin wis
tinr hearts wnre II ;ht.
Injuries mIIhIh
Not even a si,'h
On 1 lie Fourth of July.
And ns you lie and ponder, t lie thought
comes home to you
That your youngest hoy now celebrates ths
way you used to do.
And the moilier whom h bawls for to havs
those small wounds dressed
Is the woman who Iouk years ago you
swore you loved the best.
Itnt what funny things
Memory brings
Who would have thought
That I would be caught
Willi a tear in my eye.
( in the Fourth of July ?
The A ! ml ntleil Mull.
"What day does the Fourth of July
come on this year?" asked the absent
minded man.
"On Sunday."
"Yes, but what clay of the month?"
"GLORIOUS FOURTH."
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