4 ? 'X^isDSEMX-WE EM.^ ^ ^ ^ l. m. orist'S SONS, Publishers. } % ^amitg Uercspjer: Jfor the promotion ofl the political, Social, ^grirultural, and (Batmntittial Jntsresta of the feople. { tkbmLo^?coApt! ?rac^tl'c'i" ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, AUGUST 1903. NO. 67. - . , | ~ By WILL N. H/ Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All i CHAPTER XVI?Continued. Wilson lautrhed again as be fished the desired article from his pocket and gave It and a match to Pole. Then he leaned against the heavy railing of the banisters. "I may as well tell you," he said. "I'm a dealer In lumber myself, and I'd like to know what kind of timber you have out there." Pole pulled at the cigar, thrust It well into the corner of his mouth, with the fire end smoking very near his left eye. and looked thoughtful. "To tell you the truth, my friend," he said, "I railly believe you'd be wastin' time to. go over thar." "Oh, you think so!" It was a vocal start on the part of Wilson. "Yes, sir; the truth Is old man Bishop has simply raked into his dern clutch ever' acre o' fine timber out that away. W AfVAK f'Af K AH iiuw, fi )uu ncui cuot, utu t uuuti side o' the mountains, you mought pick out some good timber; but, as I said, old man Bishop's got it all In a bag out our way. Sawmill?" "No, I don't run a sawmill," said Wilson, with an avaricious sparkle in his eye. "I sometimes buy timbered lands for a speculation; that's all." Pole laughed. "I didn't see how you could be a sawmill man an' smoke cigars like this an' wear them clothes. I never knowed a sawmill man to make any money." "I suppose this Mr. Bishop is buying to sell again," said Wilson tentatively. "People generally have some such idea when they put money into such property." Pole looked wise and thoughtfuL "1 don't know whether he is or not," he said, "but my opinion is that he'll hold on to it till he's in the ground. He evl aenuy tninas a goou ume s a-cowiu : Thar was a feller out thar t'other day with money to throw at cats. He's been tryin' to honeyfuggle the old man Into a trade, but I don't think he made 1 a deal with 'lm." "Where was the man from?" Wilson spoke uneasily. "I don't rallly know, but he ain't a-goin' to give up. He told Nell Filmore at his store that he was goin' home to see his company an' write the old man a proposition that ud fetch Mm ef thar was any trade in Mm." Wilson pulled out his watch. "Do you happen to know where Mr. Rayburn Miller's law office is?" he asked. "Yes; it's right round the corner. 1 know whar all the white men in this town do business, an' he's as white as they make 'em an' as straight as a shingle." an aonnaintaiipe of mine." said Wilson. "I thought I'd run In and see him before I leave." "It's right round the corner an' down the fust side street toward the courthouse. I 'ain't got nothin' to do; I'll p'lnt it out." "Thank you," said Wilson, and they went out of the house and down the street together, Pole puffing vigorously at his cigar in the brisk breeze. "Thar you are," said Pole, pointing to Miller's sign. "Good day, sir; much obleeged fer this smoke," and with his head In the air Pole walked past the office without looking In. * "Good morning," exclaimed Miller as Wilson enterftl. "You are not an early riser like we are here in the country." He Introduced Wilson all round and then gave him a chair near his desk and facing him rather than the others. "This is the gentleman who owns the nrnnprtv I hellpvp " said Wilson suave ly as he indicated Bishop. Miller nodded, and a look of cunning dawned In his clear eye. "Yes. I have just been explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Bishop that the mere signing of a paper such as will be necessary to secure^the loan will not bind them at all In the handling of their property. You know how cautious older people are nowadays in regard to legal matters. Now, Alan here, their on. understands the matter thoroughly, and his mind Is not at all disturbed." Wilson fell into the preliminary trap, "Oh, no; it's not a binding thing at all," he said. "The payment of tlie money buck to us releases you?that la, of course," Wilson recovered himself, "if we make the loan." Several hearts in the room sank, but Miller's face did not alter in the slight est. "Oh. of course, if the loau is made," he said. Wilson put his silk hat ca the top of Miller's desk and flicked the asliet from his cigar into a cuspidor. Then he looked at Mrs. Bishop suddenly? "Does the lady object to smoking?" "Not at all," said the old lady; "not at all." There was a pause as Wilson relighted his cigar and pulled at it in silence. A step sounded on the sidewalk and Trabue put his head in at the door. Miller could have sworn at him, ^ but he smiled, "(lood morning, squire," he said. "I see you are busy," said the intruder hastily. "Just a little, squire. I'll see you in a few minutes." "Oh. all right." The old lawyer moved on down the sidewalk, his bunds in his pockets. Miller brought up the subject again with easy adroitness. "I mentioned your proposition to ray clients?the proposition that they allow you the refusal of the laud at one hundred thousand, and they have finally come round to it. As I told them, they could not possibly market a thing like that as easily and for as good a price as a company regularly in the business. 1 * iPRT? M Author of lIX.I3Ilrr>l, " Westerfelt." 'ights reserved. "Thar you are," said Pole. [ may have been wrong In giving such advice, but It was the way I felt about It." , Without realizing it, Wilson tripped in auother hole dug by Miller's inven uve mum. "They couldn't do half as well with It," the Boston man said. "In fact, no one could, as I told you, pay as much for the property as we can, considering the railroad we have to move somewhere and our gigantic facilities for handling lumber In America and abroad. Still I think, and our directors j think, a hundred thousand is a big price." Miller laughed as If amused. "That's Ave dollars an acre, you know, but I'm not here to boom Mr. Bishop's timber land. In fact, all this has grown out of my going down to Atlanta to borrow twenty-five thousand dollars ou the property. I think I would have saved time if I hadn't Clin on you down there. Mr. Wilson." Wilson frowned and looked at his cigar. " \> e ure winiuy, saxu ue, lu uiaac the loan at 5 per cent per annum on two conditions." "Well, out with them," laughed Miller. "What are they?" "First," said Wilson slowly and methodically, "we want the refusal of the property at one hundred thousand dollars." Miller's indifference was surprising. "For what length of time do you want the refusal of the property at that figure ?" be asked, almost In a tone of contempt. Wilson hung fire, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "Till it is decided positively," he got out finally, "whether we can get a charter and a right of way to the property." "That's entirely too indefinite to suit my clients," said the lawyer. "Do you suppose. Mr. Wilson, that they want to hang their property up on a hook like that? Why, if you didn't attend to pushing your road through?well, they would simply be in your hands, " ?i i_ [ rne L.ora oniy snows uuw lung. "But we Intend to do all we can to shove it through," said Wilson, with a flush. "You know that Is not a businesslike proposition, Mr. Wilson," said Miller, with a bland smile. "Why, it amounts to an option without any limit at all." "Oh, I don't know," said Wilson lamely. "Mr. Bishop will be interested just as we are in getting a right of way through. In fact, it would insure us of his help. We can't buy a right of way; we can't afford it. The citieens through whose property the road runs must be persuaded to contribute the land for the purpose, and Mr. Bishop, of course, has influence up here with his neighbors." "Still he would be very imprudent," said Miller, "to option his property without any limit. Now here's what we are willing to do. As long as yoa hold Mr. Bishop's note for $25,000 unpaid you shall have the refusal of the land at $100,000. Now, take my advice"?Miller was smiling broadly? "let it stand at that." Wilson reflected for a moment, and then he said: "All right. Let that go. The other condition is this?and it need be only a verbal promise?that nothing be said about my company's making this loan nor our securing the refusal of the property." "That will suit us," said >i!ller. "Mr. Bishop doesn't care to lnue the public know his business. Of courap the mortgage will have to be recorded at the courthouse, but that need not attract attention. I don't blame Mr. Bishop," went on Miller in a half confidential tone. "These people are the worst gossips you ever saw. If you meet any of them, they will tell you that Mr. Bishop has bu'sted himself wide open by buying so much timber land, but this loan will make him as solid as the Bank of England. The people don't understand his dealings, and they are trying to take it out on him by blasting his reputation for being one of the solidest men in his county." "Well, that's all, I believe," said Wilson, and Miller drew a blank sheet of legal cap paper to him and began to write. Half an hour later the papers were signed, and Miller carelessly handed Wilson's crisp pink check on a New York bank to Mr. Bishop. "There you are, Mr. Bishop," he said, with a smile. "You didn't want any one else to have a finger In that big pie of yours over there, but you needed money, and I'll tell you as a friend that a hundred thousand cash down will be about as well as you can do with that land. It takes money, and intn nf it to make monev. and Mr. Wil son's company can move the thing faster than you can." "That's a fact," said Wilson in a tone that betrayed self gratification. "Now we must all pull together for the railroad." He rose and turned to Miller. "Will you come with me to record the paper?" "Certainly," said Miller, and they both left together. The Bishop family were left alone, and, the strain being lifted, they found themselves almost wholly exhausted. "Is it all over?" gasped the old woman, standing up and grasping her son's arm. "We've got his money," Alan told her, with a glad smile, "and a fair chance for more." The pink check was fluttering in old RiRhnn's hand. Already the old self willed look that brooked no interference with bis personal affairs was returning to bis wrinkled face. "I'll go over to Craig's bank an' deposit it," be said to Alan. "It '11 take a day or two to collect it, but he'd let me check on It right now fer any reasonable amount." "I believe I'd ask him not to mention the deposit," suggested Alan. "Huh! I reckon I've got sense enough to do that" "I thought you Intended to pay off the mortgage on our farm the fust thing," ventured Mrs. Bishop. "We can't do it till the note's due next January," said Bishop shortly. "I agreed to keep the money a yeer, an' Martin Doe '11 make me hold to it But what do you reckon I care as long as I've got some'n' to meet it with?" Mrs. Bishop's face fell. "I'd feel better about it if it was cleer," she faltered. ? - " ? J-- M 1 "But the Lord knows we on to ieei thankful to come out as we have. If It hadn't been fer Alan ? Mr. Miller said that Alan"? "Ef you all hadn't made sech a eternal row," broke in Bishop testily, "I'd 'a' had more timber land than this. Colouel Barclay has as One a strip as any 1 got. an' he's bantered me for a trade time an' agin." Abner Daniel seldom sneered at anybody, no matter what the provocation was, but It seemed Impossible for him to refrain from It now. * < "You've been lookln' fer the last three months like a man that needed more land," he said. "Jest no furder back 'an last night you 'lowed ef you could git enough fer yore folly to raise the debt off'n yore farm you'd die happy, an' now yo're a-frettln' beca'Be you didn't buy up the sides o' the earth an' give nobody else a foothold. Le* me tell you the truth, even ef it does hurt a little. Ef Alan hadn't thought o' this heer railroad Idea, you'd 'a' been the biggest human pancake that ever lay flat in its own grease." "I hain't said nothtn' to the contrary," admitted Bishop, who really took the reproof well. "Alan knows what I think about It." Then Bishop and his wife went to Craig's bank, and a moment later Miller returned, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "We got through, and he's gone to catch his train," he said. "It worked as smooth as goose grease. I wonder what Pole Baker said to him, or if he saw him. I have an idea he did. from the way Wilson danced to our music." "Heer's Pole now," said Abner from the door. "Come in heer, you triflln' loafer, an' give an account o' yoren m be I. "I seed Mm makln' fer the train," laughed Pole, "an' so I sneaked in to see what you uns done. He walked like he owned the town." "It went through like llghtnln', without a hitch or a bobble," Abner told him. "You did noble," said Miller, while Pole and Alan were silently clasping hands. "Now I told you we wouldn't forget you. Go down to Wimbley's and tell him to give you the best suit of clothes he's got and to charge them to me and Alan." Pole drew himself up to his full height and stared at the lawyer with flashing eyes. "Blast yore soul!" be said. "Don't you say a thing like that to me agin. I'll have you know I've got feelln's as well as you or anybody else. I'd cut off this right arm an' never wince to do Alan Bishop a favor, but HI be danged ef anybody kin look me over after I've done a little one an' pay me for it in store clothes. I don't like that one bit, an' I ain't afeerd to say so." "I didn't mean any offense, Pole," apologi/.ed Miller most humbly. "Well, you wouldn't 'a* said it to some men," growled Pole. "I know that When I want pay fer a thing like that, I'll jest go to that corner o' the street an' look down at that rock nile whiir AIhii found me one dav an' paid me out jest to keep me from bein' the laughin' stock o' this town." Alan put his arm over his shoulder. "Rayburn didn't mean any harm," he said gently. "You are both my friends, and we've had a big victory today. Let's not have hard feelings." Pole hung his head stubbornly and Miller extended his hand. Abner Danlei was an attentive listener, a half smile on his face. "Say, Pole," he said, with a little laugh, "you run down to Wlmbley's an' tell Mm not to wrop up that suit. I'm a-owin' him a bill, an' he kin jest credit the value of it on my account." Pole laughed heartily and thrust his big hand into Miller's. "Uncle Ab," he said, "you'd make a dog laugh." "I believe yo're right/' said Abner significantly, and then they all roared at Pole's expense.* The next day Alan received the following letter from Dolly Barclay: Dear Alan?Rayburn Miller told me in confidence of your wonderful success yesterday, and I simply cried with Joy. I knew?I felt that you would win, and this is, as he says, a glorious beginning. I am so proud of you, and I am so full of hope today. All our troubles will come out right some day, and now that I know you love me I can wait Rayburn would not have confided so much to me, but he said while he would not let me tell father anything about the prospective railroad, he wanted me to prevent him from selling u'~ ???At nf lonH near vours. You know I1IO uavw my father consults me about all his business. and he will not dispose of that property without my knowing of it Oh, wouldn't It be a line joke on him to have him profit by your good Judgment Alan was at the little postofflce in Filmore's store when he received the letter, and he folded It and restored it to its envelope with a heart filled with love and tenderness. As he walked home through the woods It seemed to him that everything in nature was ministering to his boundless happiness. He felt as light as air as he strode along. "God bless her dear, dear little soul I" he said fervently. TO BE CONTINUED. BOUND A3 WAS ULYSSES. Homecoming Sailor Passed the City Sirens and Bought a Farm. Of the temptations which beset the homecoming Jack; >of his weakness in the face of them, and of the Ulyssean A?a AIH OQ 1 f mndp measures which wnc w.t. ???., ..._? wise by many sad experiences, employed to secure himself against the song of the Sirens, a naval officer of high rank has this story to tell: There was an old boatswain named Sam on board the last ship which this officer commanded before going on shoreduty, Sam had served his country some thirty years when his last cruise took him to the Asiatic station and kept him there for more than three years. At the end of that time he had some $800 to his credit, which would be paid over to him as soon as the ship reached New York. One evening just before the home shore was sighted, the captain was on the quarter-deck when Sam approached him, tugging his old-fashioned forelock and scraping with his foot as he bowed. He was an old favorite, and could get an audience at any time. "We'll soon be home, Cap'n," he be gan. "Right you are, Sammy, and I suppose you'll be happy to get a rest at last." "Maybe I am and maybe I ain't? there's my sister Sally." "Well, won't you be glad to see her?" "Maybe I will and maybe I won't?' there's the $800 coming to me." "The more welcome you should be, Sammy." "Ya-as; and Sally wants me to buy a farm and stay home." "Splendid Idea, Sammy. I'm sure you'll end as a bloated landholder." "Ya-as, but there's New York 'tween Sally and the money." "And what of It?" "Well, you know, New York Is a pretty fine city and?and I've been gone a durned long time, and?If I get through New York with any money left that'll be the first time In my experience." The captain understood. "How far away does Sally live?" he asked. "Thirty-five miles, Cap'n." "Can't you get there without passing New York?" "Can't be done, Cap'n, and that's Just the rub." "It's the worst blankety-blank thing I ever heard of," remarked the captain reproachfully, "that an old, seasoned, sensible chap like you must be so weak." "It's a ship's length beyond all excuses," the old man admitted In a mournful tone. "But I can't help It. Cap'n. I suppose It's In the land air." The captain was thinking hard. "How would It be for me to send an officer with you through the city?" "That's terribly kind of you, Cap'n, but there ain't no man strong enough In the navy to hold me when I feel the smell of the grogshops." ?T crn with vnii mvsplf." the x ntiuu bw ? v captain declared. Sam shifted from one foot to the other and looked indescribably unhappy. "I'm afeared?" he began. "I'll take you in a carriage?a closed one." "God bless you, Cap'n; but I'll be blamed if I don't think I might jump out." "Then I'll be danged if I know what to do for you," the captain concluded in despair. "There might be Just one way what I've been thinking of?but, of course, that's really too much?" "Sing out and don't be afraid." "S'poslng you went with me in a carriage?and that the carriage was closed"?the old man was twisting about as if in pain?"and?and my hands and feet were tied up, and you didn't let me loose till we got outside the town?I don't know, Cap'n, but I guess I might get through with the money." The old man's play was earned out to the letter. He begged and prayed and swore while the carriage was passing through the streets of New York, but, like Ulysses tied to the mast, he was helpless, and the captain remained as deaf to the old fellow's entreaties and outbursts of profanity as if his ears had been filled with wax, like those of the Ulyssean crew. Once beyond the city, Sam calmed down. At Sally's door, but not until the money had passed into her hands, the captain left his charge. That's how the farm came to be bought. But to this day Sam vows that but for the ropes that held him during those moments of sapreme temptation he would still be cruising on the high seas as poor as ever.?Chicago InterOcean. piscdlaticotts Reading. EASY WEALTH FOR FARMERS. Prof. Holden'e New Idea About How to Plant Corn. "Let every farmer In the seven great corn states give a few winter evenings ~ -"A t 1 .|_ 111 Ua ana 48(J,UUU,UUU Dusneis will ue auucu to the -annual crop of the corn belt." In these words Prof. P. G. Holden of the Ames Agricultural college summarizes the results to be expected of the campaign Instituted by himself and the Iowa Corn Growers' association. It isn't increased acreage that Prof. Holden wants; it is better results from the present acreage. It is not by any artificial culture that he would bring about these results. He promises that they shall be realized if the farmer does the simple thing of putting a hundred live kernels of corn in every thirty hills. Entirely new in agriculture is the experimental work of Prof. Holden, and throughout Iowa he has convinced meetings of farmers that for once a professor in an agricultural college has a reform that is thoroughly practical. In a word, his plan requires only the sorting by hand of seed corn and the filing of plates in corn planters in such a way as to drop the required number of grains of corn in each hill. To find how mucn me iarmero ui Iowa are losing each year by not properly planting corn, Prof. Holden last year sent 1,000 letters to all parts of Iowa asking the number of stalks In each hill In corn fields. He found that the stand was but 75 per cent of what he has demonstrated will produce the largest yield, and last year's corn crop was considered a good stand. The other day he himself Inspected twentyfour of the best corn fields he could find. "I found," he reported to a meeting of the Iowa Corn Growers' association in Sioux City, "from 39 to 86.2 pier cent, of a perfect stand. The average loss was 27.7 per cent. "I do not mean by this that the field that has five stalks in each hill Is better than one with four and that hills of six stalks are better than hills of five. I have found that the best results are obtained from an average of about three and a third stalks to a hill. "I have found one stalk in a hill will produce but one-third as much corn as a proper number of stalks, two stalks three-fourths of a yield and five stalks three-fourths of a yield. In making my tables I counted either three or four stalks a 100 per cent stand. "For ten years the average yield of corn in Iowa has been approximately 35 bushels. A yield of thirty-five bushels with a 70 per cent stand, which is the average found in a number of years, would become fifty bushels with a 100 per cent stand." The acreage planted in corn in the seven states growing over 100,000,000 bushels of corn in 1902 was: Illinois, 9,623,680; Iowa, 9,302,688: Nebraska, 7,817,962; Kansas, 7,451,693; Missouri, 6.775.198; Indiana, 4,520,937; Ohio, 3,200.224. The combined acreage was about 48,000,000. A gain of ten bushels an acre, or a 90 per cent stand, which Prof. Holden thinks is easily attainable, would mean an increase in the annual yield of these states of 480,000,000 bushels. On the big Funk farm at Bloomington, 111., Prof. Holden's theory was carried out last year. Several thousand acres were planted with seed sor ted by band, througn planters aajusieu to drop the proper number of kernels. Previously, the best yield was fiftyeight bushels an acre. Last year the average was seventy-two bushels. Of the gain. Prof. Holden estimates 80 per cent, was due to the stand and 20 per cent to the excellent germinating power of the seed. In the experimental fields under Prof. Holden's control the yield has never been less than 60 bushels since 1896. The owner of 4,000 acres of corn ground at Oldebolt, la., this spring bought six corn planters and put them to work hurriedly. He has examined his field and found a stand of 13} stalks to each hill. He estimates his loss at $20,000. He has told that hereafter he will plant according to the Holden method. "Aw, that isn't practical," objected a farmer in one of Prof. Holden's meetings. "The idea of my sorting grains of corn by hand. I have something better to do." "All right," answered Prof. .Holden. "We will say that you have the work done by a man to whom you pay $2 a day. He will sort at least a bushel of shelled corn every day. "That bushel will plant seven acres of ground. The fact that it has been sorted will add at least ten bushels to the acre yield. At an average price of 30 cents a bushel that would mean a return of $21 for the $2 you invested in having the corn sorted. "But you can do It as well on winter evenings when it will have cost you nothing."?Sioux City, Iowa, Letter. A Bank Teller's Tale.?The Bismarck Quarry company had an option on three acres of land belonging to Sam Dunseith, good for one year, the aaa or* oppq " onih tha JVC MCI1I5