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HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1921-09-22, Page 6J. 1,12 spseses The Shadow Ghost BY EUGENE JONES PART II.. No. 86 left on time, but lost a half - The following morning Hawthorne hbur crawling across Big Cypress be- sought' his fireman at the roundhouse, hind an extra freight with a hot jour where that worthy was busy tinkering nal. Fortunately, the right of way with engine 99. through the swamp had been con - "Look here, Uncle Bill; I want to, structed with attention to the pos- talk to you! Climb up in the cab a sibility of a flood. The fill was wide minute!„ and sufficiently elevated to defy the There was no one to hear, and so , rapidly deepening pools on either side; the younger man repeated Katharine's' the trestle had been built on triple story precisely as he remembered it, concluding with the remark: "When you mentioned spooks to me last night I laughed at you; I never gave such a thing a serious thought, But now, after that confounded mes- sage from Fipps—holy smoke! He meant every word he said. I somehow got the impression of facts when Katharine told ole—of a certain, posi- tive thing—not a dying man's fancy. Besides, he did save the Limited twice when, by all that's reasonable, she ought to have been ditched. `'Suppose I get to imagining when I'm hitting the high places ire Big Cypress; suppose I jam everything to pieces stopping for a shadow? They'll say 'Poor Kid, he hasn't the nerve! He'll do better on freight.' " Suddenly Hawthorne was leaning rows of piling, creosoted and driven through the •muck to hard bottom. In spots the water had eaten into the bank, but not dangerously. A few miles out of Jacksonville the train was held up while a wrecking crew removed some box cars which had split a siding switch. And always the rain fell steadily out of a black sky that seemed! to lay its finger tips on the locomotive stack. The northbound Limited made up a little time on the return run; but the injectors gave trouble, while two miles from Savannah a duck flew straight into the headlight, smashing the glass and snapping both arc carbons. After uncoupling and shunting 99 into the roundhouse, Frank and Uncle Bill walked home together. Th11Teerie= of sham•etories' that have beer!• running on this page for the Past month or. -two will be followed next week by a serial, "Every Man for I Himself," a splendid Canadian story of mystery, romance. and political in- trigue with a amaahlng climax—the sort of story that every five Canadian will enjoy; The action begins In Toronto, the scene changes to Sparrow Lake, then up the railway lines through the Al- goma district, a territory that is now tapped for the first time by a Cana- dian novelist. The local Color of,thls tale is one of its most fasbinating fea- tures, But above all it is an action story which keeps the reader's in- terest from the first to the last chap- ter. The author Is Hopkins Moorhouse, of Winnipeg, who has a continental re- putation as a. -journalist, and short story writer, For some years he has lived in the West, but he was educated at London, Ontario, is a graduate of the Western University in that city, and served on different newspapers in Eastern Canada. In vividness of phraseology, in. racy dialogue, and In swift descriptive power, Mr. Moor - house is regarded as one of Canada's most gifted authors. forward, his eyes pleading. Dawn was just breaking; the yards "Uncle Bill, you've got to under-; showed a dirty black in the gray light. stand! It's not a blooming ghost Ism 'Pools of water stood everywhere', track afraid of; it's myself We're all hu- walkers loomed out of the mist like man; superstition is an instinct and'dejested ghosts, and disappeared; when it's fed, strengthened—" I slouching their rounds with hunched "Wait a. minute!" the fireman inter- I shoulders. The noise of locomotive rupted. "You listen! Can't you guess ddrrif vers' was half drowned y the in s why I'm not an engineer? Has it ever I teat ng rain; the smoke dimming whatng lin a struck yon I'm the oldest fireman on, the division with enough experience ; light there was. behind me to handle anything with' T reckon," said the engineer with dmi,yers ? Frank, a long while ago I ! see some nce mere f armanto-day.in love, i "we'll made up my mind I hadn't the nerve r soon the water will be over the tracks to stand it. Firing was all right, but that rice field this side: of Big Cy - health. didn't Then, to clinch matters, oil burners came in; and that took away the only barrier threatening my fu- ture. A man sixty years old can fire an oil burner. And so I'm doing it today—wiI1 always be, while I live. "The very thing that scared, me off is getting your goat now; you're up against a flat proposition of nerve. You've got to decide --and stick to it —whether you be a three=hundreda- month man and look at death occasion- ally, or whether you'11r°be content to be another `Uncle Bill'." press. Lord, listen to iti!" They carted under the shed of the union -lend, Hawthorne stopping for a cup of coffee, while Uncle Bill went honie to bad. At twelve e'.clo.ek the engineer drop- ped in at the dispatcher's office. The wires were hot with trouble—a wash- out here, a freight ditched there, water everywhere, except in Big Cypress. "Ysm're lucky," the chief said to :him. "You've got the driest ran en the division. Funny, too! You'd think a swamp would just naturally forget Hawthorne brought his fist down. its manners a day like this, yet re - "I've got to earn the three hundred ports :have it the flood's three feet for Katharine—more, if I can." from track level an Big Cypress." "Oh! That's the lay of the land, Four o'clock cane around at last. eh?:, Hawthorne backed 99 into the shed, "Sire:.. . We make our first run coupled, and climbed out of the cab. . to -day; Limited leaves at four four." Katharine was waiting on the plat - Hawthorne off, Hawthorne saw Katharine at lunch form. They walked a little way , time.' She eppeared`tired and worried. and when they came back there was a "DidknowFrank there was a , tender light in his eyes. yyou loo division e . „i- en .+, ,.. •„."ii io"Y'gah't , big .:;raw intthe isi• s�Perfmfienii � .;; :.NotluYig;;iike„-a;;vvoma., '• ent's office last aught?” she asked. woxth-whiler he beamed, cleaning his "Edward Adler, the man who expected goggles industriously. "Take Kathar- to land Dad's job, made an awful ine, for instance—" scene -threatened the old man himself. ! But, Uncle Bin wasn't in a mood to Somebodysaid he'd' been drinking. Of agree. ' course, hwas fired outright. He I "Women Cause half the—” blamed you,and swore 'he'd get even.' His words' : were drowned by the He swore he'd make you wish you'd safety, which popped opportuntely.' never heard of the Limited. Yes, the Frank got the conductor's signal and police are going to watch pian, but the drivers turned; 99 crawled out there's a—a chance—" into the yhrds and into the storm, "And you think—" • which presented an indefinite, gray She nodded soberly. barrier. Switch lamps burned a sickly "An accident might occur so easily yellow—they had ,been lighted early, ., n Big Cypress' for one couldn't see a hundred feet "Well watch out for Adler, honey," away he promised grimly. "Damn thick!" said Hawthorne And that was the last they saw of cheerfully around the end. of the boiler. easel other before the Limited made her run. _, There was a time when 99 thunder- ed through Big Cypress sending the echoes crashing into the moss -draped "Take it easy," advised the fireman. "Remember' that rice field." Presently the yard -limit sign flashed past. Now the Limited was alone in a world of mist, thundering out of trees --a time when the men in the nothing into a receding wall. cab braced themselves and watched "Green!" yelled Hawthorne as the the track unreel with uneasy eyes. But first tower lights glimmered ahead. the headlight found no flitting figure "Green," repeated Uncle Bill, blocking the right of way; nor was Sixty miles an hour now. On either Adler's work in evidence. Lonely? side lay inundated fields. Once they Yes. It was the loneliest run on. the swooped across a bridge where the division; but that first night, whatever water ran sullen and yellow hardly a secret lay concealed in the depths of the swamp, remained hidden, allowing the train to pass unwarned and un- injured. At Jacksonville, Hawthorne and Uncle Bill spent en hour in the dis- goggles, found the crack between over- patcher's office waiting for the north- !ails and coat, rain in disgusting bound Limited, which arrived some streams down his neck. As the cross- fiifteen. minutes Iate. At 6 a.m. they boards oe a highway leaped out of foot below the track. "Green!" shouted the engineer a moment later. Another tower swan'' by like a rigid ghost. The rain drove against has rolled back into Savannah, none the worse for Big Cypress—tired of course but far more confident. Frank went to bed almost convinced that Adler had been one hundred per cent bluff, and that old man Fipp's message was the .product of a disordered brain. " That was on Thursday, On Friday several disturbing things occurred. To begin with, it rained hard all day. Also, the police lost track of Adler, the ex -engineer. Tae had skipped, bare and baggage—which might mean a great deal or nothing. Toward even- ing reports kept eommg in from the towers about the high water. The weather bureau callously .promised more rain. the mist the fireman reached for the whistle cord. But the sound didn't seem as pleasant as timid; the drizzle drove it back, muffled it, proving con- clusively that 99 was a prisoner of the storm. Then, suddenly, there wasn't any track ahead just a placid lake! "Look out!" Uncle Bill's warning brought the jar of brakes. The train closed up, bucked, lost momentum, while spray flew from the pilot. "The rice field," Hawthorne explain- ed unnecessarily., Three hundre• feet beyond, the water rose to .'tile"trucks. Then they caught the signal from tower BB -17. "Red," grunted Frank. Ni "Red," repeated Uncle Bill as the Limited took the air again. Swinging abreast of the tower, 99 came to a dead halt with only the noise of the injectors to break the stillness. The mirror surface of the flooded field stretched to the near horizon, deserted except for the two- storey structure which reared up on the right like a lighthouse on a bar- ren coast. Hawthorne stuck his head from the cab as a window was raised above. "What's the matter?" he yelled. "No O.K. on -62 yet. Maybe she's in over her boiler. Pretty slushy go- ing, eh?" "How's William's Creek bridge?" "All right, so fax as I know. But watch your step!" . The limited waited fifteen minutes —fifteen minutes of rain and silence. and darkening sky; night was coating Then the semaphore flashed given. "Good luck!" shouted the operator. Slowly the train crawled under the signal span, picked up speed. A male beyond lay William's Creek. As the superstructure of the bridge appeared, Frank cut down to five miles. The water was over the stringers; there was no defining the original. creek bed.. He nosed the pilot forward, felt a slight sag. "Whew!" muttered Uncle Bill as the engine gained the fill on the farther', side. "She's going out pretty•noon!"I A utile beyond, a two per cent..grade', brought the track to the surface, and the train increased pace. When:dark ness settledn the white shaft of the! headlight groped futilely in the' fog 'like the finger of a blind man, but Hawthorne did not slacken speed, "0. K new," he grinned: "We'll make, ti time. Big Cypress i up;; a bit of t me Cyp sa dry Sixty, stxt'y:five. They settled down to the roar of the drivers. Now on each side marched gnarled trees, in- distinet, grotesque sentinels of the swamp. The locomotive lurched and' swayed, the white path of the 'head- light suggested a lurid wound to the darkness. Behind, Pullman after Pullman•fol- lowed with.. the trusting confidence of a dog at his master's heels. That was the responsibility Uncle Bill had al- ways side -stepped --all those innocent people back there, cozy in the brilliants: ly lit diner, or watching the porter make up their berths, or swapping lies in the • smoking compartments. And, in the cab, two white- faced, rain -soaked men with nerves as taut as bowstrings, hurling the train on- ward like a meteor. Another hour of it. Still the trees peered at them; still the drizzle blind- ed them. They were halfway across now. Frank settled. back, trying to shield his chest and throat as !beat he could. "God in. heaven!" The words were Uncle Bill's, but so sharp, so desperate, they sounded like an explosion. • "Look!" he yelled. "Look!" Something inside of Hawthorne froze; he could hardly bring his eyes, son a so, e eve g child ever overwhelms its parents with to focus on the track. McFarland. There, in the headlight an indefin- I ""Nonsense!" he scoffed. "Let's have gratitude for its daily care. Yet be- ite distance beyond thea pilot truck, the truth. You didn't stop for ashe-i cause these children are not constantly danced a'' gigantic shadow. 'low o a your g gig low. The shape, was a caricature of a human being, headless but with arms fluttering. Di- rectly over ' the rails, receding with the rush of the train, it sped. The light did not pierce it. There could be no. doubting, no reasonable explanation; nothing was between that gleaming arc and the grotesque shadow. Ne - thing could be except—Tim ,McFar-- landf Prank was rigid, his hands idle, his profile bloodless:in the radiance of the gtiuge" lamps. He too had fallen under the spell. The horror, the sure- ty of the 'supernatural proved now beyond a'doubt, held him like a vise. The trees Ieaned closer as if to get a better view, and the Limited rushed on. What a moment! Things to do and do quick, yet neither man moved. Their bodies were powerless; their nerves shuddered, refusing to eontrol their limps. Something -as intangible, the trestle, and received a life sen- as the shadow itself, yet clinging, per - as As for Prank, he and Kathar- sistent, enveloped 99. It was almost i'ne are niarried,'while over their as if the mists of the night had sic- tel hangs a singular trophy. It is a mail -- easefully braved file heat of the 'boiler F you are out all day in the cold, keep warm by wearing STANFIELD'S "Red Label" Underwear It is heavy wool underwear —thick enough to protect you against the piercing cold–easy and comfortable because so carefully made. We make all weights suitable/for men, women and children. Send for free sample book. - STANFIELD'S LIMITED; Truro, N. S. �a of air against the brakes. The train closed' up, surged forward, slackening speed. Forty-five miles! Beyond the dancing shadow ray of light` caught an ugly, black spot—an. empty place where there ought to have been a trestle! Thirty—twenty-five! The Pullmans were piling against the tender es if eager for their destruction. Nearer leaped that awful void—nearer. Frank braced himself, his face a gray mask of. putty. The brakes screeched, the locomotive trembled like a thing con- demned. Twenty miles! They were al- most of it, The Limited must plunge into that filthy water. Already he imagined the mire closing over him. Fifteen miles—ten-- There iles—ten— There was a crash, a sudden down- ward 'tilt as the pilot left the rails. The drivers gripped hard, slid, gripped again '• 'He closed his eyes..- What was wrong; anyway? Why didn't he feel the final, dizzy ;lunge—" Uncle Bill spoke after a long silence. "That was -close," was'all he said. Shaken, scarcely crediting; such a niiracul'ous escape. Hawthorne and the apros- of nubbin ,the .fat into the dour and fireman stumbled from the cab, to the' a community' organization in a g, ,. - d)- s •,.sfirst,r ,- keeping- sever •thin ice card:: fi1i while behind'them surged a :thi=s perous farming „eciion. Her sig.p g y.• g' of passengers.. The locomotive hung gestions were constructive, but wheth- 'More power to every discovery that p g Virtue May Become a Vice. Virtues can be carried to such an extreme that they degenerate into vices is an axiom. Perhaps the one which moat easily and quickly slips over the border is the virtue of criti- cism. A. little kindly, well meant criticism is one of the' best stimulants. to growth. But it is seldom a critic can remain just a kindly critic. It is so easy to slip over. the line and.become a chronic fault` finder, from whom Heaven pre- serve us. out upon a floured board and roll thin before lining the tins. And do not forget when lining the plate to care- fully press out all air so that none is left to force up the pastry in large bubbles and puss: the filling but of the , pie into the oven. This amount will make upper and lower crusts for ane large pie. I1 filling is uncooked bake forty minutes in 450 -degree oven, re- ducing the temperature to 400 degrees for last ten minutes.;, It is claimed . that this recipe- will, never fail. It .es more easily and One Such pest has. almost broken up quickly made than by the old method half over the wrecked trestle. and in her headlight the shadow of Tim still danced, The conductor pushed forward, his portance, or whether she was at heart grizzled face white and drawn, "A wash-out!" he muttered: `"How a born fault finK.ler, who can say? At in the world did you see it in time?" any rate she continued to pick flaws in Uncle Bill pointed to the splintered the methods of work until . the dis- piling, couraged promotors of neighborhood "Not awash -out --a deliberate at enterprises are ell ready to give up. Probably this woman has done no more harm, though, than her neighbor who finds fault with her faintly. Every the organiza- tion rganizes saves time and• labor but sacrifices no ,quality!, er her success in getting tion to change some. of its plans gave her an enlarged sense of her own tempt to ditch us: That was.done with dynamite!" "But who—" A Novel Bazaar. Ladies' Aid: Can you suggest some new way, of holding a small sale or bazaar ? A Pedier's Parade. is novel and does not retjuire booths. Those who take part dress up to represent peddlers. (both men and women), and pltee "I think I know," interposed Haw= their wares in baskets, packs and thorne grimly. "Adler said he'd get woman knows that no husband is per- push -carts, The «sale opens with a square: Another yard or so--" feet, no children faultless. But why .parade of these merchants headed A shiver swept over the erased. But be forever telling them about it? by an organ-.. rinder carrying a hand the uzniformed• man's horror was eche- sed by his curiosity. Hawthorne, you couldn't have seen that .hole three hundred feet away! What warned you?" The young engineer laughed • queer- ly. hat—thing in the headlight wav- ed me down. See!" Passengers and crew looked up: a reputation they, will have hard work Over them hovered the shadow, living down. They are already looked straingely alive, yet with no more sub -upon in the community as future bad stance than the night. citizens, when as a iliatter of fact they The conductor was a material per. are only normal, average children. No 1 h len moth' of Tit Psychologists tell us that the beat way organ, if it is possible'to hire, one.. to build up is by praising virtues An agile boy might be persuaded to rather than by stressing faults. Yet dress as a monkey and accompany -the this woman—and she has many copies organ -grinder throughout the even almost never mentions a good thing ing, holding up his cap for stray pen - about any of•her family, but continu- nies. If this can not be arranged, a ally harps on their shortcomings. gronp of musicians might serve as a That woman is giving her children street •band, producing music on real or fake instruments, but remembering to "pass tlhe hat" between numbers. After the "parade" the pedlers en- deavor to sell their wares, imitating the methods of real pedlers in order to create merriment. Sandwiches'ean be sold from a basket carried by ,a man dressed to represent a "train ? Lok , t o r headlight—no- thankingtheir niother for their -bread' boy." Another "train -boy" could sell thing but a deaf stuck fo the glass!" and !butter, she i efers to them as mo p:- peanut bars, marshmallows, _other , Sure enough, on the powerful lenssters of ingratitude, And where is package candy and sweet ,chocolate. was a small object—a real caught and, the child who hops out of bed m the Ite cream could be sold from a pash- as, by the rush of the Limited. Even I moaning and rushes to mother, clan'- cart 'rind should be served on paper as engineer .and fireman exchangedoring to be given work to do? I've , plates and eaten with tin 'spoons. A' glances,' it trembled uncertain!and, thePilot, and the shadow , yet to see a healthy boy or girl who woman carrying a basket containing fluttered top , voluntaril offered to do chores or I cakes should be near at band. Other disappeared 1 3' � "Well," snapped the conductor, "how Wadi dishes, until months of -habit had baskets should be filled with aprons, - , tea-towe:i, fancy -work, penalty of Children is to dash out to! notions and flowers if they are avail- ""Go on, run along rank told back to your play, and if they don't whine and pro- able, Pullmans, Haynes. youtest when you dragged them in to "was a shadow, and I'm telling you , gg Minard's Liniment used by Physicians, 'twas • Tim McFarland!" work, you'd thiol. there was something y "+McFarland e �' the matter with them Now wouldn't' about it? Loosen up!" made the job seem natural. The pro 1 iron-hoidors Billflushed. •'Uncle "Who''s Tim , No Wonder, District Visitor --"Well, ane must (In with his red handkerchief. Yet, because this woman's children sonethin' for the suffering poor." "Nobody in particular; he used to are healthy young animals and object g g drive the Limited, but he's dead these to 'being broken to harness she bewails Friend—"But are you stirs they db ten years," suffer?" the fact that her children are lazy and. Eventually Edward Adler" was. District Visitor -"Oh, yea, I visit idle. Bewailing at home would be bad „ naught. He confessed to wrecking. them. enough, it would go far towards mak-1 ing the children lazy, but to tell their, .----***— faults to the world is. little short of Pensions are being paid to three crinlnal. and a half million men, women and children by the British Ministry of The grizzled fireman mopped his you? small leaf under Blase and handsomely fires and flung their shapeless arms' framed. Below axe the words: through the cab windows, The flying The Shadow Ghost,—In moron', of thing in the searchlight was to (blame .I+Iather" `a±id' Tim NlcFarlan�d, —the thing they called Tim's ghost.. . Titre's shadow, headless, animat- ed by an unearthly power, was root -1 ing the last doubt of engineer and fire- man; they faced irrefutable, blood - chilling proof—such proof as is only offered those about to die. Die! Ah, Prapk's brain worked normally again. The word had broken the spell, Ile thought of old man Pipe's warning; that was tangible, a basis for action— ",Stop her!' Insole Bill's vohe'e carne thin with fear. "Tor heaven's salve, stop her!" Hawthorne mechanieally strained et the throttle; there was the ixnev'en jar (The End.) p: MIL EA . 'P • X5'1 E the used car dealer who ab.Cwti .you how they rata instead of tnllcltYa about What they are Me,. USED AUTOS 100 itotttally •lit Stock+ 402 YONoe Percy gletai en To1ioerto ereiatiotf this Near. ISSUE No. t8—'21. Keep Minard's Liniment in the house..) Pensions. . A "Never Fail"- Pie Crust. • r""" A pastry made with hot water! We' ask you—the experienced cooks ---can you think of anything more iconoelas-' tic? Here it is: J{ 1/2, cupful shortening (1✓k cupful but -1 ten', 1/m cupful lard), % cepful hots (boiling water), 2-V2 cupfuls. flour, 1/m teaspoonful baking 'powder, le teas; spoonful salt. Cream the shorteniiig with the. water by addleg the latter only alit at e. time. Mix the salt and baking powder with the sifted flour, and stir this into the butter end water, Tuan eeess FL al iVigiece Novelties Don't overlook these in buying. Our Travellers have the Samples, We bave the Stock. Torcan Fancy Coach �. Co., :std. \Vholosalo Weilingtan St. lZ,, I.0rontt•. ,. :.,may