Image provided by: Morrow County Museum; Heppner, OR
About Lexington wheatfield. (Lexington, Or.) 1905-19?? | View Entire Issue (Aug. 2, 1906)
Prisoners and Captives By H. S. MERRIMAN CHAPTER XIX. -(Continued.) Tlie effort of the discovery Unit they distinctly formed a group apart was bare ly visible to the keenest glance. Helen's slow, gentle eyes were turned toward the center of the house, bent vaguely on the brightly dressed occupant of the stalls. "I suppose." said Helen, closing her fan, "that all this is rather trivial for you. The interest you take in it must be super ficial now that you are so busy." "Oh, no !" Tyars hastened to begin ! he was looking past her in that strangely persistent way into the theater, and some thing he saw there made him turn his head quicklv toward the stage. "Halloo !" he exclaimed. Then he caught her wrist in his grasp. "Keep still," he whispered. The painted curtain was bellying right forward like the mainsail of a bark, and from the space at either side a sudden volume of smoke poured forth in huge, uneven clouds. In a second the whole audience was on its feet, and for a moment a sickening si lence reigned the breathless silence of supreme fear. Then a single form appeared on the stage. It was that of the man referred to by Claud Tyars a moment before ; he who played the villain's part so unconsciously. He' was still in his dark wig and pallid make-up. On his arm he carried the coat he had just taken off, and the other arm, clad in white shirt sleeve, was raised in a gesture of command. "I must ask you," he cried, In a full, clear voice, "to leave your seats as " And his tones were drowned, completely overwhelmed by a strange, unearthly roar; the roar of a thousand human voices raised in one surging wail of despair, like the din of surf upon a shingle shore. The man shouted, and his gestures were almost ludicrous, even at that supreme moment, for no sound could be heard from his lips. Then tlie gas was turned out, and In the darkness a terrible struggle began. Some who came out of it could liken it to noth ing on earth. Women shrieked and men forgot themselves. As the gas flickered and finally col lapsed those in the stage box caught a momentary vision of wild, distorted faces coming toward them. The pit had over flowed the stalls. Strong barriers crum bled like matchwood. Into a hundred minds at once there had flashed the hope of escape through the stage boxes. "Grace ! Easton !" It was Tyar's voice raised, and yet not shouting. The crisis had come, the danger was at hand, and Helen knew who it was that would take the lead. She heard the two men an swer. "Keep the people back. I will break open the door on the stage. It is our ftest chance." The girl felt herself lifted from the. ground and carried to the back of the box. "Helen !" whispered Tyars. "Yes." "Are you all right?" "Yes." "I thought you had fainted, you were so quiet! Hold on to my coat I Never leave go of that!" He turned away from her, and above the din and uproar came the sound of his blows upon the woodwork of the door. It seemed impossible that such Btrokes could have been dealt by an unarmed hu man hand. Between the blows came the sickening sound of the struggle at the front of the box. Imprecations and supplications, min gled with groans and the dull thud of mer ciless fists upon human faces. Shoulder to shoulder the two men the American and the Englishman fought for the lives of the women placed by the hand of God under their protection. It was a terrible task, though few women reached the front of the box. Each man struck down, each assailant beaten back was doomed, and the defenders knew it. Once down, once under foot, and it was a matter of mo ments. Fresh assailants came crowding on, treading on the fallen and consequently obtaining an ever-increasing advantage as they rose on a level with the defenders, Neither seemed to question the wisdom of Tyars' command. It was a matter of life or death. Those already in the stage box would only be crushed by the onrush of the others were they allowed to enter. With a dazed desperation the two men faced the frightful odd, hammering wild ly with both fists. Their arms ached from sheer hard work and they panted hoarsely, Their eyeballs throbbed with the effort to pierce unfathomable dark ness.. It was quite certain that their de fense could not last long. , "Stick to it 1" yelled Tyars. He might have been on the deck of the Martial during a white squall, so great was the uproar all around him. At last there was tlie sound of breaking wood. "Grace !" shouted the voice of Tyars. "Yes." "Look after Miss Winter when we go." "Easton !" he cried again. "Yes, old man !" "Come last, and keep them back if you can." Then a minute later he shouted, "Come !" At the same Instant the roaring crowd of madmen poured in over the front of the box, like soldiers storming a bastion. The door which Tyars had succeeded in opening was so narrow as to admit of the passage of only one person at a time, but at this instant tlie larger door leading Into a narrow passage, the real exit from the etage box, broke down before a pres sure from without, and from this point also a stream of half-demented beings triad to force an entrance. The only advantage possessed by the original occupants of the box was that rhey kuew the position of the sauall door. The subsequent recollection of such In dividuals as survived were so fragmentary and vague that no connected story of the terrible tragedy in the stage box of the Epic Theater was ever given to the pub lic. Miss Winter remembered finding herself caught up in a strong pair of anus, which ihe presumed to be those of Oswiu Grace. Almost at the same moment she and her protector were thrown to the ground. After that the next thing she could re member was the touch of a hand over her face and hair and a whispered voice in her ear : "Agnes Winter is this you?" She recognized the peculiar American twang which was never unpleasant. At that moment, she almost laughed. "Yes yes," she auswered. "Then crawl to your feet. Don't try to get up ; crawl over this man. I don't know who he is, but I surmise he Is dead." She obeyed, and found her way out of the narrow door and up some Bteps. Close behind her followed some one, whom she took to be Matthew Mark Easton, but it ultimately turned out to be Oswiu Grace, who was in his turn followed by the American, but not until later. Helen Grace heard the word "Come," and submitted obediently to the support ing arm, which half dragged, half carried her up some steps. She remembered be ing carried like a child through some dark some place where the atmosphere was cold and damp. Then she was conscious of a halt, followed closely by the sound of breaking wood and the tearing of some material probably canvas, for they were among the scenery. After that she prob ably fainted, and was only brought to consciousness by the shock of a violent fall in which her companion was under most. Then she heard a voice calling out : "This way, sir; this way." She recollected seeing a fireman stand ing in a narrow passage waving a lan tern. By the time that she reached the open air she was quite conscious. , "Let me walk," she said, "I am all right. Where is Agnes?" "They are behind," answered Tyars. "She is all right. She has twd men to look after her. You have only me." "Wait for them," said the girl. "I will not go home without them." "All right ; we shall wait outside. Let us get out first." They were standing in a small room, probably the office of the theater, and a policeman stationed near the window, of which the framework had been broken away, called to them impatiently. The window was about four feet from the ground, and Helen wondered momen tarily why Claud Tyars accomplished the drop so clumsily. In the narrow street he turned to a police inspector and pointed to the window. "Lift the lady down," he said. A cab was near at hand, and in It they waited seated side by side in silence for what seemed hours. The crowd dropped away, seking some more Interesting spot. At last there was a movement at the win dow, and Tyars got out of the cab and went away, leaving Helen in an agony of mute suspense. In a few moments It was over and the girl breathed freely. It seemed strangely unreal and dream like to hear Agnes Winter's voice again j to see her standing on the pavement be neath the yellow gas lamp, drawing to gether the gay little opera cloak round her shoulders. As Miss Winter stepped Into the cab she leaned forward and kissed Helen That was all ; no word was said. But the two women sat hand in hand during the drive home. Tyars and Oswin spoke together a few words in a lowered tone quite overwhelm ed by the rattle of the cab, and then sat silently. The light of occasional lamps flashed in through the unwashed window, and showed that the men's clothes were covered with dirt and dust, which neither attempted to brush off. When the cab stopped In Brook street, Oswin got out first, and going up the steps opened the front door noiselessly with a latch key. Tyars paid the cab man, and loiiowea trie lauies into tne house. The gas in the hall and dining room had been lowered, and they all stood for a moment in the gloom round the daintily dressed table. When Oswin Grace turned up the gas they looked at each other curi ously. Miss Winter kept her opera-cloak closed, simply stating that her dress was torn. Her hair was becomingly untidy, but she showed no sign of scratch or hurt. Helen was hardly ruffled beyond a few little stray curls, almost golden In color, stealing down beside her ears. She doubtless owed her Immunity from harm, and in all human probability the safety of her life to the enormous bodily strength of Claud Tyars. It was she who spoke first. "Your arm!" she said, pointing to Tvar's right sleeve. "Have you hurt it?" He looked down at tne iinm, wiuen was hanging in a peculiar way very close to his body, with a vague and questioning smile, as If it were not his property, "Yes," he said, "it Is broken. Miss Winter and Oswin went to his side at once. Helen alone remained stand' tng at the table. She said no word, but continued looking at him with very bright eyes, her lips slightly parted, breathing deeply. lie avoided meeting her glance In the same awkward, embarrassed way which he had not noticed before ; answering the questions put to him with a reassuring smile. "It happened," he b'1'1- "Jwrlug the first rush. We fell down somewhere through some scenery, mS ttrlu 81U"U underneath." "You put it underneath," corrected Helen, almost coldly, "to save me, I suppose." "Instinct," he exclaimed, tersely. "Shall I fetch a doctor, or will you come with me?" asked the praotlcal Oswin, gently forcing ,rl,,'1(1 luto a chair. "We are surrounded by them In Brook street." "I will go with you," answered Tyars. Refusing all offers of hospitality made by Oswin And his sister, Claud Tyars went off with his friend to the doctor's, leaving the ladies comfortably Installed In arm chairs by the lire. They protested that they could not possibly sleep, and that, as it was only twelve o'clock, they would await Oswin's return. And the two ladies left there sat, each In her deep arm chair, toasting her neatly shod toes on the fender, and said never a word. They both stared into the fire with such a marked persistence that one might almost have suspected them of fear ing to meet each other's glance. At last Helen moved. She had evident ly just become aware of a black mark on the soft mauve material of her dress. With her gloved hand she attempted to brush it off, and as this had no effect she began rubbing it with a tiny handker chief. Then she raised her eyes. Miss Winter was watching her with a curious smile a smile much more suggestive of pain than of pleasure. Their eyes met, and for Rome moments both seemed on the verge of saying some thing which was never said. Then sud denly Helen leaned forird and covered her face with her two hands. Helen recovered herself as suddenly as she had given way, and, rising from her chair, stood with her shoulder turned toward her friend, her two hands upon the mantel-piece, looking down into the fire. Her attitude, moral and physical, was reflective. "I wonder," she said, "if every one got out of the theater?" "Mr. Easton phomised to come and tell us," answered Miss Winter. Helen raised her head and looked crit ically at her own reflection in the old fashioned mirror over the fireplace. The trace of tears had almost vanished from her young eyes it is only older counte nances that bear the marks for long. Before she moved again the sound of cab wheels made itself audible in the street, and the vehicle was heard to stop at the door. Miss Winter rose and went to let in the newcomer. It was Matthew Mark Easton. He fol lowed Miss Winter into the dining room, walking lightly an unnecessary precau tion, for his step was like that of a child. "I do not know," he was saying, the etlauette observed in England on these points, but I could not resist coming along to see if you had arrived safely No one hurt. I trust?" continued he. "Yes," answered the girl, gently j air. Tvars is hurt his arm is broken. Easton's mobile lips closed togetner with a snap, betraying the fact that he had allowed himself the luxury of an ex pletive in his reprehensible American wav. He turned aside, and waiuea DacK- ward and forward for a few minutes, like a man made restless by the receipt of verv bad news. It was a matter of a second only. Like a seroent's fang the man's keen eyes flashed toward her and away again. The peculiarly nervous face instantly assumed an expression as near stolidity as could ha emresaed hv features each and all laden with an exceptional Intelligence, Then he turned away, and took up a broken fan lying on the table, opening it tenderlv and critically. But Miss Winter was as quick as he. She knew then that he had guessed, Whatever he mieht have suspected before. she had no doubt now that Matthew Mark Easton knew that Helen loved Claud Tyars. 'The worst of it," he broke out, with sudden airiness, "is that there was no fire at all. It was extinguished on the stage. The performance might have been continued." "It only makes it more horrible, said Miss Winter ; "for I suppose there were some killed." That is so." he answered. "They took forty-two corpses out of our box alone." "I did not knowl" said Helen, after a painful pause, "that it was so bad as that." Oswin Grace came in, opening the front door with his latch-key. He was greeted with an Interrogatory "Well?" from Miss Winter. "He Is all right," he answered. It was a simple fracture. Old Barker set it very nicely, and I sent him off to nis ciuu In a cab." "Then " said Easton, holding out his hand to sav eood-by, "I shall go and help him Into bed-r-tuck him in, and sing a soft lullaby over his pillow. Good night, Miss Winter, tiood nignt, auss Grace." (To be continued.) As It ! I" Chicago. Jack Beacon Yes, In Boston we have all cultured love making. When a young man goes wooing In the Hub he must embrace all foreign phrases and noetleal nuotatlons. You don't see anything like that In prosaic Chicago, , Dick Lakeside I should say not Here a fellow 13 satisfied to embraca the girl. Ilent Ho Could Do. "You know," said the young man In the case, "that I am poor, but don't you think we might be able to live on bread and cheese and kisses?" "Yes," replied the fair maid, but ' "Then," he interrupted, "see if you can work your father for the bread and cheeee and I'll attend to the rest. Home-Mude Milk Cooler. It Is not nn easy tusk for those who have but a small quantity of milk to care for to do It with economy. The large cooling tanks or refrigerators which dairymen on a large scale can ull'ord are not for the man with the single can, hence he must resort to some plan on the home-made Idea. Take n box, which may he liought at GOOD M1I.K COOl.KK. any store for a low price, high enough to contain a barrel of good dimen sions. Fill In the bottom of the box several Inches deep with sawdust, and on this net a bnrrel cut down so that when a milk can Is set Into it It will come Just below the level of the top of the barrel. Around this barrel, eight Inches deep, pack sawdust. Set the can of milk in the barrel ami our In cold water and, If possible, add sev eral large pieces of Ice. Arrange a faucet which shall ruu through the barrel and the box so that the water may be drawn off when It gets warm. The Illustration shows the idea plain ly. In the small drawings at the bot tom "M" represents the box, "L" the barrel and "A" the can of milk, and In the drawing to the left "G" shows how the faucet Is placed near the bot tom of the box. Any one can readily make thin milk cooler at small ex pense. Indianapolis News. Lime and Salt Keep V.Kgm. The water-glass method Is not the only one of keeping eggs in fairly good condition for quite a long period. Some years ago the Rhode Island Experiment Station tested a number of different methods, and found that salt brine and lime water stood second only to water glass as a preservative. The eggs were held over a year In the pickle, and all came out good. The station reported as follows: The surface of the liquid was crusted, and considerable silt had settled to the bottom of the Jar. The shells of the eggs which were sunken in this silt appeared very fresh. The exteriors of the shells were clean and clear. The air cells were not Increased In size. The whites and yolks were normal In appearance. The whites beat up nicely, but had a slightly saline taste. Several used as dropped eggs appeared to be nice, but had a slightly sharp taste. This old-fashioned method of preserving eggs is thus again proved effective. Kconoiny in the Legume. Agricultural chemists tell us that while two tons of timothy hay, or a good average crop from an acre, takes away fifty pounds or nitrogen, a crop of clover of same weight takes over eighty pounds ; likewise while the tim othy hay takes off thirty-six pounds of potash, the clover takes nearly ninety pounds. With phosphoric acid it is dif ferent; the timothy takes twenty-one pounds and the clover only fourteen pounds. But the nitrogen which Is the most expensive element Is drawn from the air, to a large extent, In the case of clover, and so need not be supplied In the fertilizer. Here Is the economy In growing the legume, which has the power, as It were, of making Its own fertilizer, or most of It. Summer Grain for Poultry. It Is not to be expected that the fowls can be taken care of wholly on the range during the summer no mat ter how extensive It may be so that the grain must be fed in a greater or less amount During the summer we do without the mashes and the corn, feed ing wheat and buckwheat and, begin ning in June, more or less cottonseed meal, adding it In very small quanti ties and Increasing It gradually until about one-tenth of the dally ration con sist! of the oil meaL n The object of an experiment at tlie Ohio station waH to determine whether silage might not be substituted for u considerable portion of the grain usual ly fed to dairy eows. Two rations were fed carrying practically tho game amount of dry matter. In one ration over r0 per cent of this dry matter was derived from tillage, and less than 18 per cent was derived from grain. In the other ration over 57 per cent of the dry matter was derived from grain, no silage being fed. The cows fed tho sllago ration produced Dtl.7 iwunds of milk and COS pound of butter fat a hundred pounds of dry matter. Tho cows fed the grain ration produced 81..'t pounds of milk and .1.!) pounds of butter fat a hundred pounds of dry matter. The cost of feed a hundred pounds of milk was $0.(187 with the silage ration and $1.0,-) with the grain ration. Tho cost of feed a hundred pounds of butter fat was 1,11 cents with the silage ration and 22.1 ceuts with the grain ration. The average net profit a cow a month (over cost of labor) was $fi.,Slil with tlie silage ration, and $2.4115 with tho grain ration. llome-lloof Culler. If In reshoclng n horse the horse shoer does not trim the hoof smooth ly, and the shoe consequently docs not fit tlio foot perfectly, the horse there by feels uncomfortable, would be a question very (llllicult to answer. It Is natural to Infer, nevertheless, that when such Is tho case the horse Is un cer more or less strain. To accom plish a more uniform and even par ing of the hoof n Canadian Inventor has devised t lie hoof-cutter shown in the Illustration. In this cutter two knives are pivoted to a central bar, which terminates Into a hook. Tills hook Is clamped In position on the hoof as shown. Tlie operator then grasps the center handle and one of the knife handles firmly In one hand. With the other baud he swings the remaining handle hack to the point In dicated by the dotted lines. Thus with one stroke he Is able to pare one side of the hoof from heel to toe. The other knife Is then swung back In the TK1MS THE HOOK. same manner, trimming the other side of the hoof. A quicker or more effi cient ninner of trimming a horse's hoof would be hard to Imagine. Manure Aid to Fruit Trees. A l'eniisylvanlari states that ho has never used commercial fertilizers In an apple orchard. If the ground Is too poor to produce apples, nothing Is bet ter than barnyard immure, which an swers every purpose, both for a mulch or for enriching the ground. In plant ing an apple orchard the ground should be fanned every year for about ten years, growing -such crops as potatoes, truck, etc., so that the ground will get manure as often as the crops will re quire It, and that will be sufficient for the growth of the apple trees and fruit. After that time the land may be seeded down and occasionally farmed and manured sufficiently to keep the land In a fertile condition. Greatest Alfalfa Field. Kansas has tho largest continuous al falfa field In the world. This belongs to Colonel J. W. Iloblnson, Eldorado, and Includes more than 2,500 acres, the product of which brings a small for tune to Its owner each year. Save Ammonia from Manure. . All stable manure will be Improved If potash In some form Is added, espe cially of the potash salt. Kanlt has been found useful for this purpose. ,It Is crude sulphate of potash and con tains a large proportion of salt. It will arrest the escape of ammonia and prove valuable of Itself when applied to the land. It Is also excellent on land in fested with grubs, though not a com plete remedy for such pests. It Is cheap and should be used more extensively where manure Is being laved. t