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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1922-09-01, Page 70. lg. ATsziIsm, up4A1�: • 'Ga*lduste of the. r0 al , �+914ARe Dental gen AS, Oftar10 114" 4!'t the University To nate. Late Dia, treat': Dental Office, dtHitArr9 District, Not. 1 London, Ont. Office, honrm st Balttlo'!d, Oat, Monday, Wednesday, Friday and- Saturday, from one to f,$0 P.m. 2814-12 DR. F. J. R. FORSTER Eyr, Ear, Nose and Throat Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto. Late Assistant New York Opithal- Led and Aural Institute, Mooreiield's Cys and Golden Square Throat Hos- pitals, London Eng. At office in Scott Block, over Jmbach'a Drug Store, Seaforth, third Wednesday in each month from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m.- - 58 Waterloo Street South, Stratford. Picone 267, Stratford. CONSULTING ENGINEERS James, Proctor & Redfern Limited. 36 Toronto Bt., Toronto, Can. Bridges, Pavements, Waterworks, Sewer. age Systems, Incinerators, factories, Arbitrations Litigation. Phone Adel. 1044. Cable: JPROO" Toronto OUR FEES—Venally paid oat of the money we save oar clients. MERCHANTS CASULTY CO. Specialists in Health and Accident Insurance. Policies liberal and unrestricted. Over' ;1,000,000 paid in losses. Cxceptional opportunities for local Agents. 904 ROYAL BANK BLDG., 4778-60 Toronto, Ont. LEGAL R. S. HAYS. Barrister Solicitor, Conveyancer and Notary Public. Solicitor for the Do- minion Bank. Office in rear of the Do - 'minion Bank, Seaforth. Money to loan. NOP BEST & BEST Barristers, Solicitors, Convey- ancers and Notaries Public, Etc. Office in the Edge Building, opposite Tke Expositor Office. ■w PROUDFOOT, KILLORAN AND HOLMES Barristers, Solicitors, Notaries Pub - .'lc, etc. Money to lend. In Seaforth sn Monday of each week. Office in Kidd Block. W. Proudfoot, K.C., J. L. Killoran, B. E. Holmes. VETERINARY F. HARBURN, V. S Honor graduate of Ontario Veterin- ery College, and honorary member of the Medical Association of the Ontario Veterinary College. Treats diseases of all domestic animals by the most mod- ern principles. Dentistry and Milk !'ever a specialty. Office opposite Dick's Hotel, Main Street, Seaforth. &ll orders left at the hotel will re- asive prompt attention. Night calls received at the office JOHN GRIEVE, V. S. donor graduate of Ontario Veterin- ary College. All diseases of domestic animals treated. Calls promptly at- tended to and charges moderate, Vet- erinary Dentistry a specialty. Office and residence on Goderich street, one door east of Dr. Scott's office, Sea - forth. MEDICAL C. J. W. HARN, M.D.C.M. 426 Richmond Street, London, Ont., Specialist, Surgery and Genio-Urin- ary diseases of men and women. DR. J. W. PECK Graduate of Faculty of Medicine McGill University, Montreal; member of College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario; Licentiate of Medical Coun- cil of Canada; Post -Graduate Member of Resident Medical staff of General Hospital, Montreal, 1914-16; Office, 2 doors east of Post Office. Phone 56. Hensall, Ontario. DR. F. J. BURROWS Office and residence, Goderich street east of the Methodist church, Seafortk Phone 46. Coroner for the County of Huron. DR. C. MACKAY C. Mackay honor graduate of Trin- ity University, and gold medallist of Trinity Medical College; member of the College of Physicians and Sur- geons of Ontario. DR. H. HUGH ROSS .Graduate of University of Toronto !(faculty of Medicine, member of Col- lege of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario; pass graduate courses in Chicago Clinical School of Chicago; Royal Ophthalmic Hospital, London, England; University Hospital, Lon- don, England. Office --Back of Do- minion Bank, Seaforth. Phone No. 5, Night calls answered from residence, Victoria street, Seaforth. AUCTIONEERS THOMAS BROWN Licensed auctioneer for the counties of Huron and Perth. Correspondence arrangements for sale dates can be made by calling up phone 97, Seaforth or The Expositor Office. Charges mod- erate and satisfaction guaranteed. R. T. LUKER Licensed auctioneer for the County of Huron. Sales attended to in all parts of the county. Seven yearn' ex- perience perlence in Manitoba and s wan. Terms reasonable. Phone No. 176 r 11, Exeter, Centralia P. 0., R. R. No, 1. Orders left at Tke Huron >fxpoaitor Office, Seaforth, promptly elttadeL A NoverOf Which He Is Not the Hero. - By • F. HOPKINSON SMITH TORONTO McLEOD & ALLEN (Continued from last 'week.) It was late in the afternoon of the second day when the telegram arriv- ed, a delay which caused no appar- ent suffering to' any one except, per, haps, Peter, who wandered about with a "Nothing from Jack yet, eh?" A question which no one answered, it being addressed to nobody in par- ticular, unless it was to Ruth, who had started at every ring of the door hell,, As, to Miss Felicia—she had already dismissed the young man from her mind. When it did arrive there was a slight flutter of interest, but nothing more; Miss Felicia laying down her book, Ruth asking in indifferent tones •—even before the despatch was op- ened•—"Is he coming?" and Morris, who was playing chess with Peter, holding his pawn in mid-air until the interruption was over. Not so Peter—who with a joyous "Didn't 1 tell you the boy would keep his promise—" sprang from his chair, nearly upsetting the chessboard it his eagerness to hear from Jack an eagerness shared by Ruth, whose voice again rang out, this time in an anxious tone. "Hurry up, Uncle Peter—is he coming?" Peter made no answer; he was staring straight at the open slip, his face deathly pale, his hand trembling. "1'l1 tell you all about it in a minute, dear," he said at last with a forced smile. Then' he touched Mor- ris's arm and the two left the room. CHAPTER XIV The Scribe would willingly omit this chapter. Dying men, hurrying doctors, improvised .stretchers made of wrenched fence rails; silent, slow moving throngs following limp, bruis- ed bodies,—are not pleasant objects to write about and should be dispos- ed of as quickly as possible. Exactly whose fault it was nobody knew; if any one did, no one ever told. Every precaution had been tak- en each charge had been properly placed and tamped; all the fulmin- ates inspected and the connections made with the greatest care. As to the battery—that was known to be half a mile away in the pay shanty, lying on Jack Breen's table. Nor was the weather unfavorable. True, there had been rain the day before, starting a general thaw, but none of the downpour had --Slaked through the outer crust of the tunnel to the working force inside and no extra labor had devolved on the pumps. This, of course, upset all theories as to there having been a readjustment of surface rock, dan- gerous sometimes to magnetic con- nections. Then again, no man understood tunnel construction better than Henry MacFarlane, C.E., Member of the American Society of Engineers, Fel- low of the Institute of Science, etc., etc. Nor was there ever an teleire-r. more careful of his men. `, •l' d, !, we.: hi:: boast that he had a v. ! • a life by a premature dis ge . ' the twenty years of his experience. Nor did the men, those who worked under him—those who escaped alive —come to any definite conclusion as to the cause of the catastrophe: the night and day gang, I mean,—those who breathed the foul air, who had felt the chill of the clammy interior and who were therefore familiar with the handling. of explosives and the proper tamping of the charges—a slip of the steel meaning instantan- eous annihilation. The Beast knew and could tell if he chose. - I say "The Beast," for that is what MacFarlane's tunnel was to me. To the passer-by and to the expert, it was, of coyrse, merely a short cut through the steep hills flanking one end of the huge "earth fill" which MacFarlane was constructing across the Corklesville brook, and which, when completed would form a road- bed for future trains; but to me it was always The Beast. This illusion was helped by its low- browed, rocky head, crouching close to the end of the "fill," its length concealed in the clefts of the rocks— as if lying in wait for whatever cross- ed its path—as well as its ragged, half -round, catfish gash of a mouth from out of which poured at regular intervals a sickening breath—yellow, blue, greenish often—and from which too, often came dulled explosions, followed by helchings of debris which centipedes of cars dragged clear of its slimy lips. So I reiterate, The Beast knew. Every day the gang had bored and pounded and wrenched, piercing his body with nervous, nagging drills; propping up his backbone, cutting out tended bits of flesh, carving—bracing —only to carve again. He had tried to wriggle and twist, but the moun- tain had held him fast. Once he had Catarrh Catarrh 1s a local disease greatly Influ- enced by constitut tonal conditions HALL'S CATARRH MEDICINE Is a Tonto and Blood Purifier. By cleansing the blood and building up the System, HALL'S CATARRH MEDICINE re:Morita normal conditions and allows Nature t0 do Its work. AR Druggists. Circulars free. F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, 0140. Vie Standard , edafor RA'.P5iTt.R arlAsthms. 8e byail good.JJrseglsis. Per Free Trial wrlteTempletons,l'oroste Sold by E. Limbach. In Walton by W. G. Neal. straightened out, smashing 'the 'tiny cars and the tugging locomotive; breaking a Jeg and an arm, and once a head but the devils had begun again, boring and digging and the cruel wound was opened afresh. An- other time, after a big rain, with the help of some friendly rocks who had rushed down to his help, he had snapped his jaws tight shut, penning the devils up inside, but a hundred others had wrenched .. them open, breaking his teeth, shoring up his lips with iron beams, tearing out what was left of his tongue. He could only sulk now, breathing hard and gtI{;it- inf when the pain was unbearable. One thought comforted him, and one only: Far back in his bulk he knew of a thin place in his hide,—,so thin, owing to b dig in the contour of the h71,—that but a few yards of over- lying rock and earth lay between it and the free air. Here his tormentors had stopped; why, he could not tell until he be- gan to keep tally of what had passed his mouth: The long trains of cars had ceased; so had the snorting loco- motives; so had the steam drills. Curious -looking boxes and kegs were being passed in, none of which ever came back; men with rolls of paper on which were zigzag markings stumbled inside, stayed an hour and stumbled out again; then men wore no lamps in their hats and were Better dressed than the others. Then n huge wooden drum wrapped with wire was left overnight outside his lips and unrolled the next morning, every yard of it being stretched so far down his throat that he lost all track of it. On the following morning work of every kind ceased; not a man with a lamp anywhere—and these The Beast hated most; that .is, none that he could see or feel. After an hour or more the head man arrived and with two others went inside. The head man was tall and fair, had gray side whiskers and wore a slouch hat; the second man was straight and well built, with a boyish face tanned by the weather, The third man was short and fat: this one carried a plan. Behind the three walked five other men. All were talking. "The dip is to the eastward," the head man said. "The uplift ought to clear 'Lit E- io we won't have to handle the stuff twice Hard to rig derricks on that slope. Let's have powder enough, anyhow, Bolton." The fat man nodded and consulted t.is plan with the help of his eye- glasses. Then the three men and the five men passed in out of hearing. The Beast was sure now. The men were going to olow mit the side of the hill where his hide was thin- nest so as to make room for an air - shaft. An hour later a gang in charge of a red -shitted foreman who were shifting a section of toy track on the "fill" felt the earth shake under tlem. Then came a dull roar follow- ed by a cloud of yellow smoke mount- : 4; skyward from an opennls high on the hillside. Flashing through •Ir• cloud leaped tongues of tiame intermingled with rocks and splinter- ed trees. From the tunnel's mouth streamed a thin, steel -colored gas that licked it way along the upper edges of the opening and was lost in the underbrush fringing its upper lip. "What's that?" muttered the red- shirted foreman—"that ain't no blast —My God!—they're blowed up!" He sprang on a car and waved his arms with all his might: "Drop them shovels! Git to the tunnels every man of ye: here,—this way!' and he plunged on, the men scrambling af- ter him. The Beast was a magnet now, draw- ing everything to its mouth. Gangs of men swarmed up the side of the hill; stumbling, falling; picking them- selves up only to stumble and fall again. Down the railroad tracks swept a repair squad who had been straightening a switch, their fore- man in the lead. From out of the cabins bareheaded women and chil- dren ran screaming. The end of the 'fill" nearest the tunnel was now black with people; those nearest to the opening were shielding their faces from the deadly gas. The roar of voices was inces- sant; some shouted from sheer ex- citment; others broke into curses, shaking their fists at The Beast; blaming the management. All about stood shivering women with white faces, some chewing the corners of their shawls in their agony. Then a cry clearer than the others soared above the heads of the terror stricken snob as a rescue gang made ready to enter the tunnel: "Water! Water! Get a bucket, some of ye! Ye can't live in that smoke yet! Tie your mouth up if yoa're going in! Wet it, damn ye! —do ye want to be choked stiffs" A shrill voice now cut the air. "It's the boss and the clerk and Mr. Bolton that's catched!" "Yes—and a gang from the big shanty; I seen 'em goin' in," shouted back the red-shirted foreman. The volunteers—big, brawny men, who, warned by the foreman, had been binding wet cloths over their mouths, now sprang forward, peering into the gloom. Then the sound of footsteps was heard—nearer—nearer. Groping through the blue haze stumbled a man, his shirt sleeve shielding his mouth. On he came, ear 1;rP a ltan+.adstl #• c(1 l is clothes: tiYdr ''rn and acorelt- ed; hla face, b1aeed; his loft hand dripping blood. o of the shanty gong were next dba}lled out and laid° on the back of en overturned dirt car. They had,heen near the mouth when the explosion Came, and throw- ing themselves dot. had crawled to- ward the opening. Bolton was still unconscious, but the two chanty men gasped out the terrible facts: "The boss and the clerk, was jea' .starting out when everything let go"; they choked; "ther' ain't nothing left of the other men. We passed the boss and the clerk; they was blowed agin a ear; the boss was stove up, the clerk was crawling toward him. They'll never git out alive; none on 'em. We fel- lers was jes' givin' up when we see the daylight and heared you a-yel- lin' " A hush now fell on the mass of people, broken by the piercing shriek of a woman,—the wife of a shanty man. She would have rushed in had not some one held her. Bolton sat up, gazing stupidly a- bout him. Part of the story of the escaped men had reached his ears. He struggled to his feet and stagger- ed toward the opening of the tunnel. The red -skirted foreman caught him under the armpits and whirled him back. "That ain't no place for you!" he cried—"I'll go!" A muffled cry was heard. It came from a bystander lying flat on his belly inside the mouth: he had crawl- ed in as far as he could. "Here they come!" New footfalls grew distinct, whe- ther one or more the listeners could not make out. Under the shouts of the red-shirted foreman to give them air, the throng fell back. Out of the grimy smoke two figures slowly loomed up; one carried the other on his back; whether shanty men or not, no one itould tell. The crowd, no longer controlled by the foreman surged about the open- ing. Ready hands were held out, but the man carrying his comrade waved them aside and staggered on, one hand steadying his load, the other hanging loose. The big foreman started to rush in, hut stopped. Something in the burdened man's eye had checked him; it was as if a team were straining up a steep hill, making any halt fatal. "It's the boss and the clerk!" shout- ed the foreman. "Fall hack, men,— fall back, damn ye!" The man came straight on, reached the lips of the opening, lunged heav- ily to the right, tried to steady his burden and fell headlong. CHAPTER XV The street lamps were already lighted on the following afternoon —when Ruth, with Peter and Miss Felicia, alighted at the small station' of Corklesville. All through the day she had gone over in her mind the words of the despatch: Explosion in tunnel. MacFar- lane hurt—serious --will recover. Break news gently w daughter. Bolton Asst. Engineer. Other despatches had met the party on the way down; one saying, "No change," signed by the trained nurse,! and a second one from Bolton in answer to one of Peter's: "Three I men killed—others escaped. Mac- Farlane's operation successful. Ex- plosion premature." Their anxiety only increased: Why hadn't Jack telegraphed? Why leave it to Bolton? Why was there no word of him, --and yet how could Bolton have known that Peter was with Ruth, except fru'n young Breen. In this mortal terror l'eter had wired from Albany: "Is Breen hurt?" but no answer had been received at Poughkeepsie. There had not been time for it, perhaps, but still there was no answer, tier had his name been mentioned in any of the other telegrams. That in itself was omin- ous. This same question Ruth had asked herself a dozen times. Jack was to have had charge of the battery—he had told her so. \Vas he one of the. Itilled?—why didn't somebody tell her?—why hadn't Mr. Bolton said something?—why—why— Then the picture of her father's mangled body would rise before her and all thought of Jack pass out of her mind. As the train rolled into the grimy station she was the first to spring from the car; she knew the way best and the short cut from the station to where her father lay. Her face was drawn; here eyes h!nodshot from re- strained tears—all the color gone from her cheeks. "You bring Aunt. Felicia, Uncle Peter,—and the bags,—I will go a- head," she said, tying her veil so as to shield her face. "Yo, I won't wait for anylthing." News of, Ruth's expected arrival had reached the village, and the crowd at the station had increased. On its inner circle, close to a gate leading from the !lntform, stood a young man in a slnoch hat, with his left wrist bandaged. The arm had hung in a sling until the train rolled in, then the silk support had been slipped and hidden in his pocket. Un- der the slouch hat., the white edge of a bandage was visible which the wearer vainly tried to conical by pulling the hat further on his head,— this ead,this subterfuge also concealed a dark scar on his temple. Whenever the young man pressed closer to the gate the crowd would fall back as if to give him room. Now and then one IDI,VFYon Cannot BIIY New Eyes Bat you can Promote e C!ean,BealtbyConditloi YOUa ( Use Murine Eye Remedy Night and Morning:' Keep your Eyes Clean, Clear and Healthy. Write for Free Eye Care Book. Manse tea Remedy Co.. 9 Iasi Ohio Street. Chicago c,t jbots: V is t'd m laliltl',' I`'l glov vxtds 'Phe.(girl peered into ills „isce, cry, of relief. "Mr. Breen!" For one wills nate, ent a spirit of overwhelming joy welled up in her beat and shone out of her eyes. Thank God he was not dead! "Yes, Mies Ruth—what is left of me wanted to see you as seen as you reached here. You niust >1ot be a- larmed about your father." The voice did not sound like Jack's.' "Is he worse? Tell me quick," she exclaimed, the old fear confront- ing her. ! "No. He is all right," he wheezed, "and is going to get well. His left arm is broken and his head badly cut, but he is out of danger. The doctor told me so an hour ago." ' "And you?" she pleaded, clinging to his proffered hand. "Oh! I an all right, too. The smoke got into my throat so I croak, but that is nothing. Why, Mi; Gray- son,—and Miss Felicia! I am so glad Miss Ruth that you did not have to come alone! This way, everybody." Without other words they hurried into the carriage, driving like mad for the cottage, a mile away; all the worn look gone from uth's face. "And you're not hurt, niy boy?" asked Peter in a trembling voice— Jack's well hand in his own. "No, only a few scratches, sir; that's all, Bolton's hand's in a bad way, though; lose two of his fingers, I'm afraid." "And how did you escape?" "I don't know. I got out the best way I could. First thing I knew I was lying on the grass and some one was pouring water over my head; then they got me home and put me to bed." "And MacFarlane?" "Oh, he came along with me. I had to help him some." Peter heaved a sigh of relief, then he asked: "How did it happen?" "Nobody knows. One of the shanty men might have dropped a box of fulminates. Poor fellow,—he never knew; they could find nothing of him," Jack whispered behind his hand so Ruth would not hear. "But when did you get out of bed? continued Peter. He was less anxious now. Jack looked at Ruth and again low- ered his voice; the sound of the car- riage preventing its hoarse notes from reaching her ears. "About half an hour ago, sir; they don't know I have gone, but I didn't want anybody to frighten Miss Ruth. I don't look so bad, do I ? I fixed myself up as well as I could. I have got on Bolton's hat; I couldn't get mine over the bandages. My wrist is the worst—sprained badly, the doctor says." If Ruth heard she made no answer, nor did she speak during the ride. Now and then she would gaze nut of the window and once her fingers tightened on Miss Felicia's arm as she passed in full view of the "fill" with the gaping mouth of the tunnel beyond. Miss Felicia was occupied in watching Jack. In fact, she had not taken her eyes from him since they entered the carriage. She saw what neither Peter nor Ruth had seen;—that the boy was suffering in- tensely from hidden wounds and that the strain was so great he was verg- ing on a collapse. No telling what these foolish Southerners will do, she said to herself, when a woman is to be looked after,—but she said nothing of all this to Ruth. When the carriage stopped and Ruth with a spring leaped from her seat and bounded upstairs to her fa- ther's bedside, Miss Felicia holding Jack's hand, her eyes reading the boy's face, turned and said to Peter: "Now you take him home where he belongs and put him to bed; and don't you let him get up until I see him. No—" she continued in a more decided tone, in answer to Jack's protest—"I won't have it. You go to bed just as I tell you—you can hardly stand now." "Perhaps I had better, Miss Fe- licia. T am a little shaky," replied .Jack, in a faint voice, and the car- riage kept on its way to Mrs. Hick's as the" ti'er SnOnd for st:.ei: Try it to.da7' leaving the good lady on MacFarlane% porch. " MacFarlane was asleep when Ruth trembling with excitement, reached the house. Outside the , sick room, lighted by a single taper, she inet the nurse whose few hurried words, spok- en with authority, calmed her, as Jack had been unable to do, and re- assured her mind. "Compound frac- ture of the right arm, Miss," she whispered, "and badly' bruised about the head, as they all were. Poor Mr. Breen was the worst." Ruth looked at her in astonishment. That was why he had not lifted his hat, she thought to herself, as she tiptoed into the sick room, and sank to her knees beside her father's bed. The injured man opened his eyes, and his free hand moved slowly till it rested on his ddughter's head. "I got an awful crack, Ruth, but I am all right now. Too bad to bring you home. Who came with you?" "Aunt Felicia and Uncle Peter," she whispered, as she stroked his un- injured hand." "Mighty good of them—just like old Peter. Send the old boy up—I want to see him." Ruth made no answer; her heart was too full. That her father was alive was enough. "I'm not pretty to look at, am I, child, but I'll pull out; I have been hurt before—had a leg broken once in the Virginia Mountains when you were a baby. The smoke was the worst; I sevallowed a lot of it; and I am sore now all over my chest. Poor Bolton's badly crippled, I hear—and Breen—they've told you about Breen, haven't they, daughter?" His voice rose as he mentioned the boy's name. Continued on Page 6 WHY iS LEATHER "TANNED"? While many persons think of the highly polished and beautifully grained leather which is used as the basis for so many articles at the present time as a comparatively modern development, the secret of tanning or preserving the hides of animals was well known during the early centuries of the Christian era. In fact, St. Crispin, the pa- tron saint of shoe -makers who was execeuted by one of the Roman em- perors, was so well acquainted with the art that he and his brother were popularly supposed to obtain their supply of sturdy leather from celestial sources. The process they used, however, was that of preserving the hides in a solution of alum or other mineral salts, thus producing a leather that was almost indestructible and proof against decay. The price of alum gradually rose to such a point, how- ever, that its use for "tanning" was practically prohibited, and as a re- sult the making of good leather be- came one of the lost arts, to be re- discovered at a comparatively recent date. The use of modern chemicals has reduced the tanning process to a high state of perfection, closing the pores of the hides and making the loather far more durable and easily worked than formerly. The world becomes more distress- ingly modern every day. The Pope now owns an automobile.—Ottawa Journal. For one thing, every farmer should have an auto to enable his family to get away from home on Sunday be- fore town friends can motor in on them.—Stratford Ilerald. 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