u
G3NTRAMND
95
A Romance of ihe North M
1 PAPPisn c
6y RANDALL PAPPI5A
Author of nr lady *fu,emm\: mio </m, forest" etc
antic
COPYKiCrtf
AC YfcCU/^Ck CO
SYNOPSIS.
.
CHAPTER I—Robert Hollis, one-time
eea captain, who tells the story is a
guest on Gerald Carrington's vactit Es
meralda. It Is supposed to be a "stag"
party and Hollis Is surprised on discover
ing a woman, who evidently wishes to re
sr;ejn unknown, aboard.
I could better my position, however,
and immediately did so. If the second
officer really proved to be the accom
plice of the girl, he would very prob
ably take a rather careful survey of
the deck aft before permitting her to
venture forth from concealment. If
his search disclosed my presence, the
young woman would doubtless be or
dered to remain below. My choice of
position was easily determined. The
flag locker was unusually commodious,
us one of Carrington's hobbles waff to
dress the ship handsomely on every
gala occasion, and display the colors
of all nations. It was built directly
against the after rail, and back Inti)
Its protective shadow I silently drew a
steamer chair, concealed myself be
neath the folds of a rug, and lay there
quietly.
Time dragged, but finally the bell
forward announced the hour for the
change of watch. I was sailor enough
to comprehend the meaning of every
sound. I heard someone walk hastily
ucross the main deck, and descend
through the companion—a seaman dis
patched to call the second mate. The
two cnine back together. Five min
utes luter, with no warning sound of
approach, I became aware that some
one had quietly rounded the end of the
cabin. The mate passed me by within
a few feet, so close. Indeed, 1 could
distinguish the buttons on his uniform,
and the white cap he wore. Nothing,
however, could have occurred to arouse
Ids suspicions, for the man did not
even pause in his slow walk, but disap
peared along the port rail. Fearing
he might return, I remained motion
less, yet was doubly assured now that
my suspicions were about to bo veri
fied. I dared not venture any explo
ration. Thus far my plan bad worked
nicely, und I could not now afford to
risk discovery. She came so silently,
like a gray shadow gliding out of the
night, that she was actunlly beside the
rail, gazing steadfastly out at the sil
very water, before I was even clearly
aware of her presence. I was scarcely
willing to uccept the evidence of my
own eyes, yet arose slowly to n sitting
posture to observe better, dropping the
rug silently onto the deck. She heard
no sound of the movement, and, with
no suspicion of nny other presence
near, remained motionless, drinking In
the soft beauty of the night, and
breathing deeply the crisp suit air.
I could see her plainly, silhouetted
against the sky, illumined by the slar
gleam which reflected upward from the
water, her hands clasped on the rail,
her form bent slightly forward, her
skirts blowing lightly in the wind. She
was slender and young, no doubt as to
that, with a certain supple grace to her
figure noticeable even in that quiet
laisture.
iieipeu ny me support <n me unis
looker, 1 tttalned my feet noiselessly,
only half determined in the course I
had better pursue. However, I was
left no choice. Something served to
startle her, to make her vaguely aware
of some other presence on the deck.
She turned, still grasping the rail with
one hand, and confronted me. I caught
u glimpse of her face, white and youth
ful, her big eyes staring at me as
though in sudden terror. She stepped
hack, then straightened slightly, her
questioning eyes never leaving my
face.
“I—I supposed myself to he alone,"
she sHld, the words uncertain, hut the
voice clear. "You are one of the pas
sengers 7"
“Yes; 1 chanced to be still on deck
when you came."
“Where? You were expecting me?"
I Indicated the chair in the shadow,
but did not venture to move.
“I was lying here, covered by a rug.
but did not see you until you appeared
yonder ut the rail. Why do you ask
If 1 was expecting you?"
She hesitated Just an instant, but an
swered frankly.
“There was a man here last night,
after the engines stopped. I believed
then he failed to see me. Was It you,
and ure you here again tonight to make
sure ?”
“You huve guessed the exact truth,”
I confessed, almost regretfully. “Hast
night It was a mere accident, hut to
night my presence here had an object."
“Indeed! Whut Interest is it of
yours?”
"None directly, except as I am a
friend to Mr. Carrington, the owner
of this yacht, and also his guest. Ho
assured me only this morning that
there was no woman on board, and
laughed at me for even Imagining such
a thing. Naturally I desired to vindi
cate myself! then besides the mystery
also had its attractions.”
“No doubt! And now that you have
progressed so fur, what further do you
purpose doing—turn me over to the
authorities?”
•q do not know,” I said honestly.
“But I am In hopes you will trust me
enough to explain your object in thus
uninvited abourd. I shojjid pie
for being your Jrieml, if that prove
possible.”
She did not answer, apparently hesi
tating In surprise nt my unexpected
plea, and doubtful as to my sincerity.
“What Is your name?”
“Hubert Hollis; I live in Chicago.”
She nodded, and I imagined the ex
pression of her eyes changed slightly.
Tlie merest semblance of a smile
curved her lips.
"I am rather glad you are my dis
coverer," she said quietly, “for I know
who you are. You are not altogether
a stranger.”
“I am not!” 1 exclaimed In surprise.
“Oh! I understand: Seeley hus told
you of me.”
“Has he Indeed ! Why Seeley?”
“Because I have some reason to be
lieve that the second officer is your
special friend on board: that through
his old you have found concealment.
Am T altogether wrong?”
She laughed—the sound barely au
dible, yet evidence of her swift amuse
ment.
“If I did not chance to know better.
Mr. IIollls, I should almost suspect you
of being a lawyer,” she said cheer
fully. “However, in spite of my pres
ent position, I am inclined to be a
truthful person. I fear Mr. Seeley’s In
terest in me Is altogether, or at least
largely, mercenary. I will confide in
you, and confess that he has already
cost me one hundred dollars, and
heaven alone knows how much more
will be required before we attain deep
water, when 1 hope to be free from
bondage."
“Good! I am encouraged; now you
will tell me more?”
She shook Iter head.
“Not another word. sir. So far. as
they say in New York, 'you have the
goods on me.’ and denial would be use
less. Of course, 1 might have told a
falsehood. I am perfectly capable of
ho doing, and bad I been conversing
with some others on board, I would
have chosen to do so.”
“Which would seem to imply that
you possess a measure of confidence in
me?”
i do, .Air. Hums, quieiiy,
“Seeley must have given me n most
excellent reputation, and deserves re
ward.”
“Mr. Seeley gave me your name os
one of the passengers, nothing more.
I eannot at present explain when, or
how, I acquired my Information regard
ing you. To you I am a perfect
stranger, and must remain so, hut, by
some good fortune, 1 chance to know
enough of you to trust you thoroughly
ns a gentleman. You understand what
I mean?"
Her eyes met mine frankly; they
were clear, honest eyes, and 1 felt that
I read their direct challenge.
“Perhaps so," 1 answered w ith n feel
ing of disappointment. “You mean I
am to nsk no further questions? to for
get, if possible, your presence on
board?”
“Yes; can you do this?”
“Well, to be perfectly frank, I nrn
not altogether certain that I can, or
that I ought. I am Mr. Carrington’s
guest, and owe him a certain loyalty—
you admit that?”
“Yes."
"Have I a right to conceal from my
host the knowledge which I have dis
covered, that a strange young woman
has been hidden on board his yacht by
one of his officers?”
“That must depend altogether on
your sense of duty to both Mr. Carring
ton and myself," she returned calmly.
“Do 1 appear like a thief? a conspira
tor? or in any wuy a desperate charac
ter?”
“You appear a most charming young
woman, w hom I should be very glad to
know.”
“Thank you,” and her lips smiled.
“Then my case is not quite hopeless.
As a ‘most charming young woman’ 1
unreservedly yield myself to your pro
tection. I cannot tell you who I am,
nor why I am on board the Esmeralda
secretly, but I give you my word of
honor that no harm shall result from
my presence to any of your friends,
and 1 only request you to remuln si
lent for a few hours longer.”
“You Intend tutor to reveal yourself
to others?”
"As soon ns the yacht is safely at
sea, beyond all possibility of putting
me ashore.”
1 confess I was puzzled, uncertain;
my duty to Carrington seemed clear
enough, and yet there was that about
the girl which gave me faith in her
pledge. She read my hesitation,
“You still doubt me, Mr, Hollis?"
“No, it is not doubt, yet I know so
little. You will ut least trust me with
your name?”
Her eyes fell, shadowed by their long
lashes. For a moment she looked out
across, the rail, at the dark water be
yond,
“So fur us I can—yes," she answered
soberly, “You nmy call me Vera."
CHAPTER III.
War, and a Copper Pool,
“Vera,” I echoed, In some way
vaguely conscious of a strange famil
iarity with the word, yet utterly un
able to immediately rtcall the assoclu
tion, “that must lie your given, "not
your family name?”
“Ami you are not even satisfied at
tills evidence of my trust?” she ques
tioned lightly. “Usually it is consid
ered quite a compliment to be permit
ted to call a lady hy her given name—
yet I grant you, a stranger, this privi
lege.”
“To which I am not insensible;
yours Is not a common appellative, yet
I have known someone so named be
fore.”
“Indeed! A friend?”
“Well, really, I cannot say; I haven’t
quite figured it out yet; only the mem
ory haunts me oddly, as something I
I ought to remember.”
i "Or else forget,” she interrupted
' quickly. “What do you say if we blot
out all this mystery, and just be natu
ral for a while? Have you the slight
: est knowledge of where we are, Mr.
, Hollis? What is that light flashing
out yonder?”
“Montauk point,” I answered, in
stantly recognizing the peculiar flash.
“The eastern extremity of Long island.
We shall be breasting the Atlantic by
daylight if till is well. I have good
reason to remember Montauk."
“Yes? You were there?”
“Once ; why, it was sixteen years ago
at the close of our war with Spuin. I
j served on the St. Paul, and we came
Breathless With Interest, She Ques
tioned Me.
■ up from Cuba loaded with sick and
wounded soldiers — Michigan troops
mostly—and put them ashore at Muu
j tauk. I was little more than a boy
! then, and the suffering witnessed made
a deep impression.”
“You were n sailor?”
“I was twelve years at sea; my fa
ther was a lurge ship owner. I left
the sea when I w’ns thirty; I had
arisert to command, my father died,
and I decided I had had enough. I sup
1 pose I seem quite ancient to you?”
“Indeed you do not. I think it is
wonderful for you to tight your way
like that, when your father was rich.
It was a man's work. Tell me about
11. Your sen life, 1 mean.”
The eagerness of her voice must
have touched tt responsive chord, for
almost before I realized my purpose, I
began speaking. I began at the first,
relating my life as cabin boy, and as
man before the mast, my first voyage
ns mate, and the experiences of my
earliest command. I told of shipwreck
in the South sens; of a battle for life
in the Indian ocean ; of strange peoples
met in every quarter of the earth;
of fighting windy gales off the Atlan
tic coast, and the silent desolation of
I tropic seas. Breathless with interest,
! she questioned me, and I answered,
feeling the magic of her eyes on my
face, the soft intoxication of her pres
ence beside me. She was natural,
wholesome, the very sort of woman I
had dreamed about, as being some
where in the world, yet had never met
before. Her very presence was inspi
ration, but beyond this vague impres
sion my dream did not go. Then I
looked aside at her and laughed, realiz
ing suddenly how loquacious I had
been.
“Keally, I must have nearly talked
you to sleep,” I said regretfully. “I do
j not know when I have before been
guilty of such egotism.”
“Ho not soy that. It was most ln
| teresting. It Is nice to be spoken to
; as though one was an intelligent hu
man being—it is quite an experience.”
“Perhaps I do not understand."
“Doubtless not, for you are not a
girl, and you tell me you never sought
: society. The very nature of your life
1 has left you frank and straightforward.
You talk to me Just as you would to a
man.”
“If my frankness has interested
you,” l ventured, "can you not realize
how much I desire to learn more—who
you are, why you are here?"
“Of course; hut l cannot tell you,
Mr, Hollis- - not yet,"
She looked at her wrist watch, hold
ing It out into a star-gleam, which re
vealed the white shapeliness of her
arm,
“1 dare not even remain here wltb
you longer,"
"Hu*.you will come again? This Is
not to be our last meeting?"
Hlie hesitated, her eyes meeting
mine almost kindly; then she held out
her hand.
“Tlie last—yes, in this wny. Yoq
will meet me again, hut not as WO are
tonight, j have truly enjoyed being
j with yon, of hearing your story, hut
this meeting here alone wna not my
choice, You understand I could not
avoid It, and after I was discovered,
I had to remain ami win your pledge
WKWfcW*a.——i. 1
Sow Wheat
WHY?
It will pay. Congress ha* fixed the
price for wheat In 1918 at not leas
than |2 a bushel. Wheat or, rood land
yields from 15 to 40 bushels an acre,
and can be followed the same season
by a paying sec<Ad crop. The winter
, pasture from wheat usually pays for
the seed and seeding.
There is a shortage of labor now,
and next year this shortage will be
acute. Wheat takes much less labor
per acre than cultivated crops. One
man and five mules with modern im
plements can prepare and seed 160
to 320 acres of wheat and do it well.
The total amount of man labor re
quired to raise a bushel of wheat with
improved machinery is 45 minutes.
OUR COUNTRY NEEDS THE
WHEAT.
Our soldiers and our allies must
have bread from wheat to win the
war. The average requirement each
year for every man. woman and child
in the United States is half an acre
of wheat. Let Arkansas raise wheat
to supply her own needs, and what she
usually takes from the West and
Northwest can go to supply the needs
of our soldiers. The last 500,000
bushels of wheat Is going to win the
war.
THIS IS A GOOD WHEAT
COUNTRY.
The average yield per acre of
wheat a year for the last ten years in
Arkansas has been the same as that
in the famous wheat states of North
and South Dakota. All the cotton
growing districts Rod the prairie sec
tions of Arkansas are well adapted
to wheat.
HOW MUCH TO SOW.
Sow at least two acres for each
horse and mule you work. This
should be the rule for every one who
raises crops, from the one-mule farm
to the largest plantation In the state.
It applies to land owners, tenants
and share-croppers. On the large
plantations the tenants and share
croppers can work together and havi
all the wtteat in one large field. I'
means an average of 14,000 acres fo
each county—a million acres for th<
state, and the raising of enough whoa
to fully supply home needs.
mil Ut KA.I\n*jK> AIM!
BUSINESS MEN.
The first duty of every banker ar.d
business man who owns land in Ar
kansas is to at once arrange to sow
his share of wheat.
The bankers and business men in
every trade center should immediate
ly make the sowing of the needed
acreage of wheat a community mat
ter in their trade territory. They
should see that every man and woman
understands the need and reasons for
raising wheat on every farm, and
should induce every land owner, ten
ant, share-cropper and farm manager
to sow his share.
The bankers and business men
should ascertain how many acres of
wheat will he sown in their trade
territories, should find th» necessary
seed—either at home or in some oth
er part of the state—and should ar
range to secure all seed that must
be purchased and sell it at cost.
Credit for seed and the implements
necessary to prepare the land and
seed it should be arranged for those
who need and deserve such credit, if
the bankers and business men will do
their part, the farmers t,vlll do theirs,
and Arkansas will raise Its own wneat
In 1918.
SOIL FOR WHEAT.
Wheat needs a fertile, well drained
soil. The red and black clay loams
and buckshot land are adapted to this
crop. Sow wheat on Qood land. It
Is a waste of seed to sow wheat on
wet, overflowed, sandy or worn out
soils.
SEED BED FOR WHEAT.
Wheat needs a firm, deep seed bed
with the upper three Inches loose and
fine. The Ideal seed bed is made by
plowing the land six to eight Inches
deep 60 days before seeding. Each
day's plowing should be harrowed be
fore the team leaves the field at
night. As soon as thp entire field Is
plowed, disk It thoroughly and follow
the disk harrow with a smooihmg
harrow Work the land once a ween,
until seeding time with some klqO-V
to secrecy. You will not forgot That?"
"Assuredly not. You will not return
to the deck tomorrow nljjht}''
She laughed softly, and withdrew
her hand, whle^ J still htdO.
“TuWWfUW night 1 ?)h, I cannot
telli we may be for enough at sea by
then SO I need no longer seek fresh air
by bight- I told you my fconcealinent
was only temporary. Good night, Mr.
Hollis.”
| The gray dress she wore left upon
m© the Impression that she faded
' from sight, her dim outline vanished
' a harrow or cultivator. Such prep
i aration will settle the soil and make It
firm and In condition to hold mois
ture like a sponge. The top two or
three Inches will be loose and fine.
This Arm seed bed will make a
close contact with the subsoil, and
moisture will be drawn steadily up to
the top of the firm soil and held there
by the layer of fine, loose top dirt.
Sow the seed so that it will rest di
rectly on the top of the firm soil and
have the loose earth above It. This
will place it where the moisture ac
cumulates and Is held and will insure
quick germination and strong early
growth.
When wheat is sown on land that
is loose and mellow to a depth of
four ot eight inches, the seed has
loose soil above aird below it and the
loose ground does not bring up the
moisture stored below. Wheat under
such conditions sprouts unevenly,
grows irregularly, and is likely to be
winter killed. The conditions are
particularly bad when grass, weeds
or trash are turned under Just before
seeding.
When it is necessary to plow late,
the land should be disked as soon as
plowed and the dink harrow followed
by a corrugated roller or packer. By
repeated workings alternately with a
disk harrow and a corrugated roller,
freshly plowed land can be put in fair
condition for seeding wheat.
Hundreds of good Arkansas farm
ers are going to fail with wheat be
cause they will sow it this fall on
loose soil.
i km akaiiu^ ur l rlci
LAND.
The land should be prepared In
! such a way as to produce the right
kind of seed bed. Each grower will
have to use hts judgment as to how
this seed bed can be most cheaply
made under his conditions.
Land not In growing crops should
be plowed 30 to 60 days before seed
ing, the longer the time the better
I and prepared as recommended under
the heading, “Seed Bed for Wheat.’*
When it is necessary to plow just
' before seeding, plow shallow, not over
' j three inches in depth, and work the
land thoroughly before seeding with
, the disk harrow or a cultivator and a
1 smoothing harrow. It is well to use
j a float between harrowings.
Grass and weeds are unusually bad
this season, and where a heavy grow th
must be turned under it will be nec
essary to plow deep. Follow the plow
with a disk harrow and the disk with
a packer. Alternate these with a
smoothing harrow until the soil Is s a
thoroughly packed that there are no
air spaces around the trash that jhaa
been turned under.
When wheat is to he sowed jp corn
that is to he left standing the land
between the rows should be made sne
and mellow to the depth or two to
three inches with a bne-horse cultiva
i 'or or 13-toothed harrow. The samo
j method can be used where cotton, to
grown when the rows are wide apart,
or the cotton stalks are short. Where
com Is cut for fodder before the wheat
Is seeded, the land should bo made
mellow and fine to the depth of two
to three Inches with a disk harrow
followed by a smoothing harrow.
Land In cowpeaa. soy br-ans or pea
nuts should be disked, and harrowed
after the crop has been removed and
just before the wheat is sown, but
should not be plowed. Land In cow
peas where the vines are to be turned
under Should be plowed. The plow
followed by the disk harrow and cor
rugated roller or packer and v*>rked
repeatedly by those implements until
the soil is so firmly pressed around
the vines that have been turned under
that there are no air spaces.
Lespedeza pastures and meadows
usually produce high yields when
sown to wheat. Thoroughly disk and
harrow the land after the lespedPMi
has gone to seed, hut do not plcvw It.
FERTILIZER.
If the land needs It, apply 200
pounds acid phosphate an. acre broad
cast before seeding, and harrow It in.
Fifty pounds nitrate or soda an acre
applied early in the spring often In
creases the yield oirehalf.
SEED. '
Sow; Southern grow/* seed. The
to the farm Vt»e seed is grown,
, the better. Sow 'plump, clean seed.
so suddenly amid the shadows. 1 took
h swift step forward. Impelled by an
irresistible desire to ascertain In what
portion of the yacht she found ^conceal
ment, yot paused almost ns quickly.
Who she wns, and why she had chosuah
so unconventional a manner of joining
us, was beyond my guessing. I -essayed
many a theoty, yet one after the other,
all broke down, and left me groping In
darkness. Only one fact remained
steadfast, to which I could cling wit
confidence—the girl was no mere r gp
I ventures^ no criminal ; she was do £jg
Considerable wheat offered for seed
has wild onion seed mixed with it. Do
not bow it.
drain handlers in North Dakota
and other spring wheat state* are ar-1
ranging to flood the cotton belt wlih
bard spring wheat for seed, using the
argument that Northern grown seed
is hardier and yields more and that
^hard wheat brings a better price. Ar->
kansas is a soft wheat country, and is
rnot adapted to either hard or North
ern grown wheat. The Arkadelphla
Milling Company, Arkadelphla, Ark.,
will aell good, clean seed wheat at
cost, and agrees to buy the crop at1
the highest market price.
VARIETY.
The variety is not Important. Any
early red, soft home grown wheat that
yielded, well in J917 is a good kind t<»|
sow. Late maturing varieties are
likely to be badly injured by rust,
while the eai’Jy hind usually escapes
this dnniage. There is no difference
in hardiness or yield between beard
ed and smooth varieties, but some
growers prefer ,V«rded and others
beardless. Good varieties of bearded
wheat are Fulca ster, Klondike and
Red Wonder, tlood varieties of
smooth, or beardlitss wheat are Blue'
Stem or Purple St caw. Red or Early
May, and Eult*.
Sow Immediately after the first kill*
ing frc et. This is about October 20
at Little Rock.
HOW TO SOW.
Sow live pecks an acre when seed
Is drilled', eight PVfctys when sown
broadcast . Cover wheat one and one
half to three inches. Buy, borrow or
hire a llrill, if passible. Seeding
wi»A a drill takes kiss wheat, we
Wheat comet up quicker and more
Evenly, tind usualljr suffers less from
winter filling. TJs« two horse drills
for ope a field an|l cmtvhorse drills be
tween tows of corn and cotton.
Where a grower la not going to sow
enough wheat to Justify the cost of a
drill, ) te can buy one, now his own
wheat, and then rant the drill to him
neighb ors.
Whf m. It Is n<«eswiry to sow wheat
broad. *j!f. he care tful to get it well cov
ered t®. the proi vr depth. This la
seldoin done, with Ihc result of much
loss.
PASTU WNG.
’/"heal makes one of the best win
t‘ g pastures for hors W. mules, cattle
And hoga Stock shou V’ not be allow
ed on th« ground when .It is wot, and
should ha taken off eaj\v *n March.
If these tiirections are fa Bowed, the
pasturing* will not lower t\ e yield of
grain.
isECONU CHOPS. ,
Leaped rxa may be sown hr* .wlcast
in March, in holds of wi'ieat. It. need*
no covering. After the whwit te bar
vested tt. will cover the land and may
be pastured or cut for hay Hie same
season.
Wheat, ninj • be follow sd the same
season Vjy Jm e corn, 90-d;*y corn, cow
peas, velvet beans, soy beans and
Irish or sw« t potatoes, nuking two
paying crop a In one year from the
sar*e land.
f ft VESTING.
Wheat p*omi on large, level fields,
| Tree from ntuisps, should be out with
» grain binder. Wheat on Btnair
flel/.s, si'le hills and stump land can
1>a cut witii a self-rake reader and
bound by ha nd. Where a fartv"*r ha*
.only two to five acres, he can cut it
' v.-ith a grata' cradle and bind it t>y
, 'hand, or i£ a crarile is too expensive.
! he can c'ft with a scythe and site*
| without binding.
Bound wheot should be shocked
and stacked. Wheat. well stacked im
proves in the «*ae,k: sufficiently to in
crease the price several cents s bush
el. Whtti* there is more than ttve
acres of 'wheat it will par fn thrash
It with a, power thrasher. A farmer
with lea* than itye *ctc« can thrash
i it in a sttort tim»t with an old fashion
ed flail. For ho.ior Alt?**, wlieat may
be grouts 1 by any kind of a grinder.
I Many f.uiiilieB are using bread made
| from y thole wheat. Jfilour. and like it
better than the rr f'flaT flour
H H COTTRELL. j
(Witten for tbr ATkaxjsa* Profit
able Farming Q>nButt tee, Little Rock
|Bo?.Td of Comimeroe.)
n< /thing of which she was In the IcasT
n dig med, nor bad site the slightest
fenr the consequent*?*.
(Continued Next Weak.)
Newspaper CYothee Hanger.
3vn emergency*clothes hanger may be
Ttitide by rolling up a newspaper and
tying the middle with a piece of stfiag,
having a loop by which to hang It.
This may be suspended from a gM
brocket or other handy book, and will
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