THE CITY OF »
NUMBERED DAYS
6/ FRANCIS LYNDE - - •
ILLUSTRATIONS by C.D.RHOOES
I CDPYBIQMT by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SDNS
SYNOPSIS,
^^.^ETER I—Brouillard, chief engineer
on the Niquoia irrigation dam. goes out
from camp to investigate a strange Mght
and finds an automobile party camped at
the canyon fcoital.
CHAPTER II—Brouillard meets J Wes
ley Cortwright and his daughter Gene
vieve of the auto party and explains the
reclamation work to them.
CHAPTER III—Cortwrlght sees in the
project a big chance to make money "and
t>° c iSlno? (or a man to £>ct in anywhere."
Brouillard is impervious to hints from the
financier, who tells Genevieve the engi
neer "will conn1 down and hook himself
If the bait is well covered."
CHAPTER IV—Cortwright organizes a
company and obtains government ron
tractsi to furnish power and material for
the dam construction. A busy Htv
wrings up about the site. Steve Massin
gale threatens to start a gold rush if
Brouillard does not influence President
Ford to build a railroad branch to the
place, thus opening an easy market for
the ore from the "Little Susan" mine.
CHAPTER V—Brouillard and the com
pany’s promoter clash, but on orders from
Washington Brouillard turns over the
plans for the power installation.
CHAPTER VI—On a visit to Amy Mas
slngale at her father’s mine Brouillarti
finds she understands him hotter than he
had thought.
CHAPTER VIT—He tells her of his need
for money to pay off his dead father's
debts and that t bo free he would sacri
fice anything sa, e his love for one wom
an. Though his influence is vital to the
building of the railroad extension she
tells him to be true to himself. He de
cides for it.
CHAPTER VTTT—Mirapolis. the city of
numbered days, booms Cortwright per
suades Brouillard fro become consulting
engineer of the consolidated electric pow
er company in return for $100,000 stock.
CHAPTER TX Rumors that the govern
ment will call a halt on the darn cause
Grislow’ to tell Brouillard that lie is lean
ing to the Cortwright side to make the
city permanent. Brouillard denies it.
CHAPTER X—Permanent building In
Mfrapolis and a real estate boom arc in
full swing when the stoppage of wrnrk on
the railroad threatens a panic. Brouillard
spreads the Massingale story of plaeer
gold In the river bed and starts a gold
rush.
CHAPTER XT—The gold rush promises
to stop the reclamation project
CHAPTER XTT-Amy tells Brouillard
that her father has Incorporated the "Lit
tie Susai " and is In Cort w right s dutches
financially. He tells her he has mad*
$100,000 and declares his love. Amy loves
him but show’s him that he has become
demoralized.
CHAPTER X TTT--M a ssln gale's placer
gold find was a fraud, but a real find is
made.
CHAPTER XIV—Brouillard sells bis
stock but does not pay his father’s debts
Oortwrlght’s son shoots Steve Massin
gale.
CHAPTER XV — Brouillard threatens
Cortwright with exposure of bad title to
Mirapolfa land if he pushes Massingale to
tlie wall. The magnate promises to give
the old man a free field.
CHAPTER XVI—Stories of the dam’s
abandonment revive. Foreclosure on the
"Little Susan" is impending and Brouil
lard loans Dave Massingale his $100,000 to
clear him.
CHAPTER XVII—Massingale g^nbles
away the $100,000.
"I have been trying pretty hard to
make you understand that it is a mat
ter of utter indifference to me.”
‘‘But you haven't succeeded very
well; it isn’t at all a matter of indiffer
ence to you," the magnate insisted per
suasively. "As things are shaping
themselves up at the present speaking,
you stand to lose, not only the hun
dred thousand you squandered on old
David, but all you’ve made besides. I
keep in touch—it’s my business to
keep in touch. You've beer buying
bargains and you are holding them—
for the simple reason that with the
present slowing-down tendency in the
saddle you can't sell and make any
"money.”
"Well?"
"I've got a proposition to make thnt
ought t° look good to you. What we
need Just now in this town Is a little
more activity—something doing, i'ou
can relieve the situation if you feel
like it.’’
“How?”
"If I tell you, you mustn’t go and use
it against me. That would be a low
down welcher’s trick. But you won't.
See here, your bureau at Washington
is pretty well seared up over the pros
pect here. It is known in the capital
that when congress convenes there is
going td be a dead-open-and shut light
to kill this Buckskin reclamation pro
ject. Very well; the way for you fel
lows to win out is to hurry—finish
your dam and finish it quick, before
congress or anybody else can get ac
tion."
For a single Instant Brouillard was
puzzled. Then he began to under
stand.
“Go on,” he said.
‘‘What I was going to suggest is
this: You prod your people at Wash
ington with a hot wire; tell ’em now's
the time to strike and strike hard.
They'll see the point, and if you ask
for an increase of a thousand men
you’ll get it. Make it two thousand,
just for the dramatic effect. We’ll
work right along with you and make
things hum again. We’ll start up the
cement plant, and I don’t know but
what we might give the Buckskin M. &
M. folks a small hypodermic that would
keep ’em alive while we are taking a
few snap-shot pictures of Mirapolis
on the jump again.”
“Let me get it straight,” said Brouil
lard, putting his hack against the door.
“You fully believe you’ve got us down;
that eventually, and before the water
turned on, congress will pass & bill
killing the NiquoilTprojeet. TTifl In Hie
meantime, t-> make tbingH lively, you'd
like to have the reclamation service go
ahead and spend another million or so
in wages that can be turned loose in
Mirapolis. Is that it?"
"You’ve surrounded it very neatly,”
laughed the promoter. "Once, some
little time ago, I might have felt the
necessity of convincing your scruples,
but you’ve rut away all thpt foolish
ness. It’s a little tough on our good
old Uncle Samuel, I’ll admit, but It'll
be only a pin-prick or so In comparison
to the money that Ir thrown away
every time congress passes an appro
piration bill. And, putting it upon the
dead practical basis, Brouiilard, it's
your own and only salvation—person
illy, I mean. You’ve got to unload or
TO broke, and you can’t unload on a
ailing market. You think about it and
hen get quick action with the wire.
There is no time to lose.”
Brouiilard was looking past Cort
vright and out through the plate glasR
window which commanded a vIpw of
he groat dam and its network of forms
ind stagings.
"It is a gambler's bet and a rather
iesperate one,” he said slowly. "You
stand to win all or to lose all in mak
ng It, Mr. Cortwright. The town Ir
balancing rn the knife-edge of a panic
it this moment. Would it go up, or
iown, with a sudden resumption ol
work on the dam?”
"The careless thinker would say
(hat it would yell ‘Fire!’ and go up In
’o the air so far that It could never
Mlmb down,” was the prompt reply.
But we’ll have the mcdicir.e dropper
sandy. In the first place, everybody
can afford to stay and boost while
Uncle Sam is spending his million or
right here in the middle of things.
Nobody will want to pull mit and leave
that cow unmilked. In the second
place, we’ve got a mighty go'>d anti
dote to use in any sure-enough case
of hydrophobia your quick dam build
ing may start."
“You could let It leak out that, in
spite of all the hurrah and rush on
the dam, congress is really going to In
terfere before we are ready to turn
the water on,” said Brouiilard musing
ly and as if It were only his thought
slipping Into unconscious speech.
"Precisely. We could make that prop
hold If you were actually putting the
top course on your wall and making
preparations to drop the stop-gate in
your spillway.”
“I see,” was the rejoinder, and it
was made in the same half-absent
monotone. “But while we are still on
the knife-blade edge ... a liftle
push . . . Mr. Cortwright, if there
were ere solitary righteous man left
in Mirapolis—”
"There isn’t," chuckled the promoter,
turning back to his desk while the en
gineer was groping fur the door knob
—"at least, nobody with that particu
lar brand of righteousness backed by
the needful inside information. You
go ahead and dr. your part and we’ll
do the rest."
Brouillard. walKing cut of Mr. Cort
wright’s new offices with his thoughts
afar, wondered if it wore by pure coin
cidence that he found ('astner appai
cntly waiting for hiru on the sidewalk
“Once more you are Just the man I
have been wanting to see,” the young
missionary began, promptly making
use ot the chance meeting. “May 1
break in with a bit of bad news?"
“There Is no such thing as good
news in this God forsaken valley. Cast
ner. What’s your grief?”
"There is trouble threatening for
the Cortwrights. Stephen Massingale
is out and about again, and 1 was told
this morning that he was filling him
self up with bad whisky and looking
for the man who shot him.”
Brouillard nodded unsympathetic
ally.
"You will find that there is always
likely to be a second chapter in a book
of that sort—if the first one isn’t con
clusive.”
‘‘But there mustn’t be this time,”
Castner insisted warmly. “We must
stop it; it is our business to stop it.”
“Your business, maybe; it falls right
in your line, doesn’t it?”
“No more in mine than in vours,”
was the quick retort.
”Am I my brother’s keeper?” said
the engineer pointedly, catching step
with the long-legged stride of the ath
letic young shepherd of souls.
"Not if you claim kinship with Cain,
whe was the originator of that very
badly outworn query,” came the an
swer shotlike. Then: ‘‘What has come
over you lately, Brouillard? You are a
friend of the Massingates; I’ve had
good proof of that. Why don’t you
care?”
“Great heavens, Castner, I do care!
But if you had a cut finger you
wouldn’t go to a man in hell to get it
tied up. would you?”
“You mean that I have brought my
i cut linger to you?”
“Yes, I meant that, and the rest of
it, too. I'm no fit company for a de
cent man tcday, Castner. You'd better
edge off ar.d leave me alone.”
Castner did not take the blunt intl
, mation. For the little distance inter
vening between the power company's
new offices and the Niquoia building
he tramped beside the young engineer
' ; In silence. But at the entrance to the
i Niquoia he would have gone his way if
Brouillard had not said abruptly:
“I gave you fair warning; I'm not
looking for a chance to play the Good
Samaritan to anybody—not even to
Stephen Masslngale, much less Van
Bruce Cortwright. The reason is be
cause I have a pretty decent backload
of my own to carry. Cone up to my
rooms if you can spare a few minutes
I want to talk to a man who hasn’t
parted with his soul for a money
equivalent—if there is such a mam left
in this bottomless pit of a town.”
Castner accepted the Implied chal
J lenge soberly, and together they as
cended to Brouillard's offices. Once be
! hind the closed door, Brouillard struck
out viciously.
"You fellcws claim to hold the keys
1 t to the conscience shop; suppose you
open tip and (fcde out a little of the
' precious commodity to me, Castner. Is
it ever justifiable to do evil that good
may come?”
"No.” There was r.o hesitation in
the denial.
Brouillard's laugh was harshly de
risive.
"I thought you'd say that. No qualifi
cations asked fcr, no judicial weighing
of the pros and cotis—the evil of the
evil, or the goodness of the good—
just a plain, bigoted ‘No.’”
The young missionary left his chair
and began to walk back and forth on
' his side cf the office desk.
"Y'ou want counsel and you are not
willing to buy it with the coin of ccn
? fidence,” he said at length, adding;
"It is just as well, perhaps. I doubt
very much if 1 am the person to give
1 It to you.”
1 “Why dr. you doubt it? Isn't It a
part of your job?”
1 "Not always. 1 am not your eon
science keeper, Brouillard. Don’t mis
1 understand me. I may have lived a
year longer than you have, but you
> have lived riore—a great deal more.
» That fact might be set aside, but there
’ Is another: In the life of every man
i there is some one person who kn ws,
who understands, whose word for that
t man is the one only fitting word of in
spiration. That is what I mean when 1
i say that I am not yi nr conscience
i keeper. Do I make It clear?”
* "Granting your premises—yes. Go
on.”
"1 will. We'll paste that leaf down
and turn another. The ugh I can’t
"There Is No 8«)ch Thing as Good
News in This God-Forsaken Valley,
Castner.”
i
[ counsel you, I can still he your faithful
accuser. You have committed a great
. sin, Hrouillard, and you are still com
mitting it. If you haven’t been the
• loader in the mad scramble for riches
t here in this abandoned city, you have
been only a step behind the leaders,
t And you were the one man who should
have been like Caesar's wife, the one
> whose example counted for most."
Hrouillard got up and thrust out his
1 hand across the desk.
) ‘‘You are a man, Castner—and that
- is better than being a priest.” he as
serted soberly. "I’ll take back all the
, Spiteful things I’ve been saying. I’m
r down under the hoofs of the horses.
- and It’s only human nature to want to
J pull somebody else down. You are one
i of the few men in Mirapolls whose
1 presence has been a blessing instead
1 of a curse—who hasn’t had a purely
selfish greed to satisfy.”
'■ Again Castner shook his head.
1 "There hasn't been much that I could
1 do. Hrouillard. It is simply dreadful—
the hard, reckless, half-demoniac spirit
T of this place! There Is nothing to ap
petfl To~ Hi ere "s no room or time tor
anything hut the ma<l money chase or
the still madder dissipation in which
the poor wretches seek to forget. I
can only try here and there to drag
some poor soul cut of the fire at the
last moment, and it makes me sick—
sick at heart!”
“You musn’t look at it that way.”
said Brouillard, suddenly turning com
forter. "You have been doing good
work and a lot of it—more than any
three ordinary men could stand up un
der. I haven’t got beyond seeing and
appreciating, Castner; truly I have
not. And I’ll say this: “If I had only
half your courage . . . but it's no
use, I'm in too deep. I can’t see any
farther ahead than a man born blind
Thejc is one end for which I have been
striving from the very tirst, and it is
still unattained. I’m past help now. I
have reached a point at which I d pull
the whole world down in ruins to see
that end accomplished.”
The young missionary took another
turn up and down the room and then
came back to the desk for his hat. At
the leave-taking he said the only help
ful word he could think of.
"Oo to your confessor, Brouillard—
your real confessor—and go all the
more readily if that one happens to be
a good woman—whom you love and
trust. They often see more clearly
than we do—the good women. Try it;
and let me help where a man can
help.”
For • long hour after Castner went
away Rrouillard- sat at his desk, fight
ing as those fight who see the cause
lost, and who know they only make
the ruin more complete by struggling
on.
Cortwright’s guess had found its
mark. He was loaded to break with
“front feet” and options and “corners.”
In the least speculative period he had
bought and ■ mortgaged and bought
again, plunging recklessly with tilt
sole object of bringing another hun
dred thousand out of drying sponge
against the time when David Massin
gale should need it. At first the under
taking seemed easily possible. But
with the dryirg of the speculative
sponge it became increasingly dlifi
cult. More and more he had Deen com
pelled to buy and hold, until now the
bare attempt to unload would have
started the panic wrhicli was only wait
ing for some hedging seller to fire the
train.
The sweat stood out in great drops
cn his forehead when he finally drew
a pad of telegraph blanks under his
hand and began to write a n:e3sage.
Painstakingly he composed it. refer
ring often to the notes in his field
book, and printing the words neatly
In his accurate, clearly-defined hand
writing. •
When it was finished he translated It
I laboriously into the department code.
But after the copy was made and
signed he did not ring at once for a
, messenger. Instead, he put the two.
1 the original and the cipher, under a
i paper weight and sat glooming at them
searching blindly for some alternative
to the final act of treachery which
would he consummated in the sending
of the wire.
Since, by reason of Cortwright’s tam
perings with the smelter people and
the railroad, the "Little Susan" had be
come a locked treasure vault, the en
gineer, acting upon his own initiative,
had tried the law. As soon as he had
ascertained that David Massingale had
been given sixty days longer to live,
solely because the buccaneers chose
to take his mine rather than his
money, Brouillard had submitted the
facts in the case to a trusted lawyer
friend in the East.
This hope had pulled in two like a
frayed cord. Massingale must pay the
bank or lose all. Until he had ob
tained possession of the promissory
notes there would be no crevice in
which to drive tiny legal wedge. And
even then, unless some pressure could
bo brought to bear upon the grafters
to make them disgorge, there was no
chance of Matslngale's recovering
mere than his allotted two-thirds of
the stock; in other words, he would
still stand committed to the agreement
by which he had bound hiruself to
make the grafters a present, in fee
simple, of one-third of his mine.
Brouillard had written one more let
ter to the lawyer. In it he had asked
how David Massingale could be uaas
sailably reinstated in his rights as the
side owner of the “Little Susan.” The
answ-er had come promptly and it was
explicit. “Only by the repayment of
such sums as had been actually ex
pended in the reorganization and on
the betterments—for the modernizing
machinery and improvements—and the
voluntary surrender, by the other par
ties to the agreement, of Ae stock in
dispute,” the lawyer had written; and
Brouillard had smiled at the thougnt
of Cortwright voluntarily surrendering
anything which was once well within
the grasp of his pudgy hands.
Failing to start the legal wedge,
Brouillard had dipped—also without
consulting Massingale—into the mat
ter of land, titles. The "Little Susan”
was legally patented under the land
laws, and Massingale’s title. If the
mine were located upon government
land, was without a flaw. But on a
former reclamation project Brouillard
had been brought in contact with some
of the curious title litigation growing
out of the cld Spanish grants; and in
at least one instance he had seen a
government patent Invalidated there
by.
As a znar. in reasonably close touch
with his superiors in Washington, the
chief of construction knew that there
was a Spanish grant involvement
which had at one time threatened to
at least delay the Niquoia project. How
it had been settled finally he did not
know; but after the legal failure he
had written to a man- a college class
mate of his own—in the bureau of land
statistics, asking for 3ata wlilcli would
enable him to locate exactly the Ni- |
quoia-touching boundaries of the great |
Coronida grant. To this letter no re-:
plv had as yet been received. Brouil
lard had cause to know with what
slowness a simple matter of informa
tion can ooze out of a department bu
reau. The letter—which, after all,
might contain nothing helpful—lin
gered on ihe way, and the crisis, the
turning point beyond which there
could be no redemption in a revival of
the speculative craze, had arrived.
Broulllard took up the draft of the
Washington telegram and read it over
He was cooler now, and he saw that It
was only as it came from the hand of
a traitor, who could and would dellb- 1
erately wreck the train of evdnts It
might set in notion, that it became a
betrayal. Writing as the commanding
officer lr the field, he had restated the
facts—facts doubtless well known In
the department—the probability that
congress would intervene and the hold
the opposition was gaining by the sus
pension of the work on the dam. If
the work could he pushed energetically
and at once, there was a possibility
that the opposition would become dis
couraged and voluntarily withdraw.
Would the department place the men
and the means instantly at his dis
posal ?
“If 1 were the honest man I am \
supposed to be, that is precisely the
message I ought to send,” he mused
reflectively. "It is only as the crooked
devil in possession of me will drive me
to nullify the effort and make It of no
effect that it becomes a crime; that
and the fact that I can never be sure
that the Cortwrlght gang hasn’t the
inside track and will not win out In
spite of all efforts. That is the touch- j
stone of the whole degrading busi
ness. I am afraid Cortwright has the
inside track. If I could only get a lit
tle clear-sighted daylight on the damn
able tangle!”
j|j§p CHAPTER XX
C
Love’s Crucible
5
Obeying a sadden impulse, Broull
lard thrust the two copies of the tele
gram under the paper-weight again,
sprang up, put on his hat, and left the
building. A few minutes later he was
on the porch of tho stuccoed villa in
the Quadjenal road and was saying
gravely tc the young woman who had
been reading in the hammock: “You
are staying too closely at home. Get
your ccat and hat and walk with me
up to the ‘Little Susan.’ It will do you
good.”
The afternoon was waning and the
sun, dipping to the horizon, hung like a
huge golden hall over the yellow im
mensities of the distant Buckskin as
they topped the final ascent In the
steep trail and went to sit on the steps
“See How the Great Dam—Your Work
—Overshadows It."
of the deserted home cabin at the
mine.
For a time neither spoke, and the
stillness of the air contributed some
thing to the high-mountain silence
which was almost oppressive. 'Work
had been stopped in the mine at the
end of the prev'ous week. Massingale
declaring, morosely, that until he knew
whose ore he was digging he would dig
no more. Presumably there was a
watchman, but if so he was invisible
to the two on the cabin step, and the
high viewpoint was theirs alone.
“How did you know that I have been
wanting to come up here once more be
fore everything is changed?" said the
girl at length, patting the roughly-hewn
log step as If it were a sentient thing
to feel the caress.
"I didn’t know It," Brouillard denied.
“I only knew that I wanted to get out
of Gomorrah for a little while, to come
up here with you and get the reek of
the pit out of my nostrils."
"1 know," she rejoined, with the
quick comprehension which never
failed him. "It is good to be out of it. i
to be up here where we cah look down 1
upon it and see it in its true perspec- j
tive—as a more little impertinent blot
on the landscape. It’s only that, after ■
all, Victor. See how the great dam—
your work—overshadows it."
"That is one of the things I hoped 1
might be able to see if I came here
with you," he returned slowly. “But
I can’t get your {mint of view. Amy. I
shall never bo able to get it again.”
You did have it once,” she asserted. ’
“Or rather, you had a better one of
your own. Has Gomorrah changed it?”
“No, not Gomorrah. I could shut the
waste gates and drown the place to
morrow for All that Mirapolis, or any
thing in It, means to me. But some
thing has changed the point of view
for me past mending, since that first
day when we sat here together and
looked down upon the beginning of the
reclamation construction camp—be*
fore Gomorrah was ever thought of."
‘‘I know,” she said again. "But
that dreadful city is responsible. It has
robbed us all, Victor; but you more
than any, I’m afraid.”
"No,” he objected. “Mirapolis has
heen only a means to an end. The
thing that has changed my point of
view—my entire life—is love, as I have
told you once before."
“Oh, no,” she protested gently, ris
ing to take her old place, with her
hark to the porch post and her bands
behind her. And then, still more
gently: "That is almost like sacrilege,
Victor, for love is sacred.”
"I can't help It. Love has made 4
great scoundrel of me, Amy; a crim
inal, if man’s laws were bb closely
meshed as God's.”
"I can’t believe that,” she dissented
loyally.
"It 1b true. I have betrayed my
trust. Cortwrlght will make Rood In
all of his despicable BchemeB. Congrees
will Intervene and the Nlquola project
will be abandoned.”
"Tell me.” she begged briefly; and.
since he was starli-g fixedly at the
scored slopes of Jack's mountain, he
did not see that she caught her lip
between her teeth to stop Its trem
bling.
"As you know, I had a debt to pay
before I could say: ‘Come, little girl,
let’s go and get married.’ So I became
a stockholder In tortwrlght's power
company, knowing perfectly well when
I consented that the hundred thousand
dollars’ worth of stock he gave me was
a bribe—the price of my silence and
noninterference with hts greedy
schemes.”
’’But you didn't mean to keep It;
you know you couldn’t keep It!” she
broke in; and now he did not need to
look to know that her lips were trem
bling piteously.
"I did keep it.”
She dropped quickly on the step be
side him and a sympathetic hand crept
into his.
“You kept It until the unhappy day
when you gave it to my father, and he
—and he threw It away." She was
crying softly, hut his attempt to com
fort her was almost mechanical.
“Don't cry about the money. It had
the devil’s thumb-prints on it, and he
merely claimed his own and got It.”
Then ho went on as one determined to
leave nothing untold. "Cortwrlght had
bought me, and l served him as only a
man In ray position could serve him I
became a promoter, a ‘booster,’ with
the others. There have been times
when a word from me would have
pricked the bubble. 1 haven’t lyld the
word; 1 am not saying It now. If 1
I should say it I’d lose at a single
stroke all that I have been lighting for.
And I am not a good loser, Amy.”
For once the keen, apprehending pel',
ception failed.
"I don’t understand,” she said, speak
ing as If she were groping in thick
darkness. “I mean 1 don’t understand
the motive that could—"
He turned to her in dumb astonish
ment. ,
“I thought I had been making it
plain as I went along. You wanted
something—you needed It—therefore
it must be purchased for you. And
the curious part of the besetment is
that I have known all along that I was
killing your love for me. If It wasn't
quite dead before, it will die now—now
that T have tcld you how I am flinging
the last vestiges of uprightness and
honor to tho winds."
"But how?” sho queried. "You
haven't told me.”
“With the dam completed before con
gress could intervene, Mlrapolfs wo'ufll,
of course, be quite dead and ready for
its funeral. But If the Cortwrlght peo
ple industriously insist tb^t the spend
ing of another million or two of gov
ernment money Is only another plum
for the city and its merchants and In
dustries, that, notwithstanding the re
newed activities, the work will still
stop short of completion and the cny
will be saved by legislative enactment,
the Innocent sheep may be made to
bleed again and the wolves will es
cape.”
She shuddered and drew a little
apart from him on the log step.
“But your part In this horrible plot,
Victor?” she asked.
“It is as simple as It Is despicable.
In the first placo, 1 am to set the situ
ation before the department in such «
light as to make It clearly a matter of
public policy to take advantage of the
present -Mirapolitan crisis by pushing
the work vigorously to a conclusion.
After thus turning on the spigot of
plenty, I am expected to crowd the
pay rolls and at the same time to hold
back on the actual progress of th®
work. That Is all—except that I am to
keep my mouth shut.”
“But you can't, you can't!” she cried.
Then, In a passionate outburst: "If
you should do such a thing as that. It
wouldn’t kill my love—I can’t say that
any more; but It would kill mo I
shouldn't want to live!”
He looked around at her curiously,
as If he were holding her at arm’n
length. _
tContinued Next Week.j
Let us do vour ,jnl printing..
-r t
Hi* Lasting Occupation-. '
"What 1b your occupation?'" asked
the judge of a witness. "Same ol»
thing, jedge—prayin' for rain or shine*
as they’re needed; an' predictin' tit*
end o’ the world whenever the signs
pint that-away."—Atlanta Constitu
tion.