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4 \ r i Thursday, October ■&, 1932 McCORMK K MKSSKNGER, McCORMICK, SOUTH CAROLINA PACE NUMBER TBREB / © HAACOURT «ACtl,CP FELIX RIESENBERG V V # v THIRTEENTH INSTALLMENT SYNOPSIS: Johnny Breen, 16 years old, who had spent all of his life aboard a Hudson river tugboat plying near New York, is tossed in to the river in a terrific collision which sinks the tug, drowns his mother and the man he called fa- i ther. Ignorant, unschooled, and fear driven, he drags himself ash ore, hides in the friendly darkness of a huge covered truck—only to be kicked out at dawn—and into the midst of a tough gang of boys who beat and chase him. He escapes into a basement doorway where he hides. The next day he is rescued and taken into the home of a Jew ish family living in the rear of their second-hand clothing store. He works in the sweatshop store—and is openly courted by Be^ka—the young daughter ... The scene shifts to the home of the wealthy Van Horns—on 5th Avenue, where lives the bachelor—Gilbert Van Horn— in whose life there is a hidden chapter . That chapter was an af fair with his mother’s maid, who left the house when he was accused. The lives of Johnny Breen and Gil bert Van Horn first cross when Van Horn sees Breen win his first im portant ring battle. Pug Malone, fight trainer, rescues young Breen from a crooked manager, takes him in hand, finds Breen cannot read and starts him to night school, and the world commences to open for Johnny Breen . . . Malone, an old- timer, is backed in a health-farm venture—taking Breen with him. There they meet and come to know Gilbert Van Horn. John at tracts Van Horn, who learns of Breen’s mother, named Harriet. Learning John’s desire for an en gineering course at Columbia Uni versity—he advances the money. John comes to know Josephine, Van Horn’s ward and during' his school years falls in love with her. Graduating as a Civil Engineer he gets a job with a great construc tion company, working in New York. * Breen has a rival for the love of Josephine, a rich man of the world by the name of Rantoul. But John wins out. He proposes and Jjpepltine accepts. Breen gives all his attetition^to his job, which wor lies Vail Horn—Finally Josephim goes to Paris for her trousseau. And at the last moment Rantoul, sails on the same boat. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY As they sailed. Josephine, too, suddenly glimpsed : the essential quality of John. 1 In fact, if .she was not engaged, and piqued, and. what not, John might veiy. easily have been a hero in.her eyes. That hor rible night at the tunnel shaft, and the frightful garlic smell of the acetylene, and the confusion, began to look less crude. John certainly did carry himself with an air of confidence, and—and how easily he had assumed the character of a gentleman! Josephine noted this especially. Of late Oerrit Rantoul had told her a great deal about John’s early life on the Bowery and in the Ghetto, and things he had picked up in conversing with Mal one. It seems John Breen had lifted himself far above his normal; station in life. Fortunately, for Rantoul, Van Horn had no idea of this phase of his conversations with Josephine. “Rantoul’s going over on busi- j ness,” Van Horn remarked to John. “Fine, that’ll keep Josephine oc cupied. He’s handy.” John had no special reason to accept Rantoul as anything but a very agreeable old man. • “When you are married, next spring, I’ll have a very important thing to say, John” Van Horn held John’s hand, looked steadily into his eyes. Their glances dimmed momentarily. , “Gilbert dear, John’s mine, not yours. Give me a chance, please.” A sudden mood seized her, there on the deck she hugged John, his arm was over her shoulder, their lips met. _ . Gilbert Van Horn, a smile on his face, stood near them. Suddenly his ashen look seemed to wash away. He became genial, agreeable. | He looked at Rantoul, but that dis- , tinguished cosmopolitan was busy waving at friends on the wharf. A whistle was blowing. Visitors were hastily leaving the deck of the steamer. “Good-bye, John, Good-bye.” The business of drilling, explod ing and mucking out rock, of punching a long tunnel, miles and miles of it, two and some places four city blocks, straight down in the rock crust of the earth, of lin ing it with concrete, mixed by machinery, spaded and tamped be hind steal fbrma, of fitting mpnster bronze gates tod*Valves, of carrying out the magnificent details of coh- ception,' all -unthought of, unsung, unknown, except in its lists of deaths, occupied John Breen, C. E., through the winter and into the spring of 1912. A month later, John was visiting Harboard at the University. “I’ve had a taste of the city worl^, I’m going to stick. This place,” nod ding out of the high window, “is so full of big things it’s a challenge to a fellow with a grain of kick in him. That bridge off there,” pointing to the huge new span of massive steel > rising above Hell Gate, “is enough to make a man stick. I’ve had a taste of this for some time, it’s full of chances. Har board, this city is a challenge to a man. You’ve heard of Hammond, the mining engineer? Well, he said something the other day\ ‘This is a big man’s town,’ was his advice. ‘Go west, or go anywhere, if you feel yourself to be about the average, but if you have the punch, stick in New York—and win!” Gilbert and Josephine were in Paris in early April. Josephine com pleted her trousseau. Rantoul had gone on ahead to London. Then they were at the Cecil for a few liiMC: ting short. He instinctively felt the moment had come. If the heart of Josephine was to be captured he i had at last arrived at the final movement of assault. He walked with her in silence, holding her close to him. The rustle of her 1 loose dinner gown, under the folds of her loose warm cloak, the inti mate detachment of the sea, her ' laugh, her evident enjoyment of ths ! night, gave him resolution. He »oo was being somewhat carried away. They had walked back and forth for almost a half hour and were leaning on the after ohwartship rail again, sheltered by the bulk of a large life-boat, looking down into the sea. A sigh from Josephine, a slight shudder, caused Rantoul oO place his arm about her, a thing hi nad never done except when danc ing. She rather yielded to the em brace. She was thinking of ohc end of such things. John, grubby, hard, unsympathetic, practicki John, always dirty and smelly, in the tunnel, would be so different. Much of this was in the sigh; an implicit answer to the many days of SKvSvKv VA . mi Kt: A M-t?:- mm [ .1 M-J ‘ He suddenly drew her to him, fiercely—no» did she resist. days. Rantoul had preceded them. A letter from John reached Van Horn as they were about to embark for New York. Pug Malone was waiting for his return. He had planned a walking trip through the Berkshires. “A regular Malone hike,” John had written. “Pug wants to get away from his work. He’s had a rotten winter. Green- bough filled with bad livers. I am full of tunnel air and need a change. American dust will do you good. And, Gil, I’m crazy for Jose phine, crazy for her again. I never knew what love meant, until now.” Poor John! It was spring. Gilbert Van Horn carefully folded the let ter and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Thank God they were homeward bound. He cabled Marvin Kelly. “Sailing tomorrow. All well.” Halfway across, on her maiden voyage, the . raced through a smooth sea, a flat flexible sea en ameled in the deepest indigo re flecting stars, «reat facts, glinting in the sky. But stars have long been ignored by men, or they have been conjured with, it matters very little to the stars, and few attended them that night. Dinner was over and Gilbert Van Horn busied him self in the smoking room, playing solitaire, a demi-tasse and his pipe keeping him occupied. Aunt Wen had retired to her state room, the night was slightly chill, a breath of the outer voids, a touch of the ethereal cold. Few were out, but Josephine, on the arm of Rantoul, both in ample steamer coats, walked the deck, broad and white, like a lighted ave nue in a deserted city. In a spirit of adventure Josephine, nodding at a ladder, pulled her escort. “Let’s go up, Monsieur Gerry.” How quick ly he responded to her mischievous spirit. They were on the deserted boat deck and walked aft, far abaft the funnels. The peculiar spiral of black smoke twisting rapidly over the rims of the huge stacks and curling astern, was the only indica tion of their speed. They looked down over the steep side, from the rail. A singing white streak of water rushed by the black, hull, a seething phosphorescent band of light. „ Rantoul knew that time was get- hey had missed it. Ugh! it war jold. His limbs ached, he shivered 3e wished Josephine * . Per haps, he had been a bit hasty. Shf stirred uneasily, she also saw th: ice. A feeling of guilty terro* seized them. His arms were tired he was no longer as vigorous as he had been in years past. Then the boat deck was stirring with men. Far forward on the bridge, lights flashed. It had been in darkness before. The radio was sending. The steamer seemed to shake. Seamen with axes and knives were running aft. An of ficer, his trousers hastily tucked into short boots, brushed past them. He played his flash lamp on them, momentarily. Josephine thought she saw him smile. But why the rushing about, .... the excitement .. . . what had happened? (CONTINUED NEXT WEEK) xxt m FRANK PARKE] if ° Bu Pafricia l>ow<> >>5 Despite the efforts of style de signers to avoid exaggeration of fashion lines at the beginning of a new season, it is essential that new trends be emphasized so that their daring newness will not be over looked. Again this has proven to i their circumspect intimacy. Rant oul caught her bare hand, with his free arm partly muffled in the. warm wide sleeve of her cloak. Words were so inadequate, so un necessary. He suddenly drew her to him, fiercely nor did she resist. Their eyes flashed a message to each other in the dark above the rushing night, above the blue-black water scarred with fire. She drop ped her lids; his eyes, burning, eager, were on her own. They seem ed to be buoyant, her cloak fell apart and he crushed her to him. Rantoul, utterly out of control, kissed her with the pent-up yearn ing of months and years of waiting. Passionately their lips met in their warm embrace. A screaming rocket rose a thou sand feet, curving, slow an increas ing toppling bend. It burst with a loud detonation. Showers of stars dropped from the black sky, sud denly shutting out the firmament with their closer fire. The boat deck was lit by the falling glare. The speed of the great steamer alt ered perceptibly. Josephine held to Rantoul, her eyes dilated. What beastly business was this? Already | he had begun to wish himself quiet ly in his bunk. Josephine was a trifle heavy, for one so young and willowy, and all that. Also, it was decidedly cool; cold. Another disturbing rocket rose above them. Those officious fools on the bridge were signaling, they were always signaling, or some thing. Rantoul was irritable. Then ! another and another rocket lifted into the blackening sky. It was late, j Josephine was unnerved. A loud shuddering screech of escaping steam thundered above them on the funnels, the shaking white clouds bulging like cotton overhead. Jo sephine clung desperately to Ran- 1 toul. What a terrific strength the girl had! The engines were stopped and safety valves were lifting on the tortured boUers. The sea had changed, the great ship was sluggish. Peering off into the dark, Rantoul saw a ghostlike wall, a towering apparition looming above them, above the funnels, close aboard and drawing slowly astern. Ice, of course. How lucky ■*«X*XvX*X Alexander Wilson, a famous nat uralist, saw at Frankfort, Kentucky, a flock of passenger pigeons a nil> wide and so long that it took four ] hours to cress the town, flying at the rate of a mile a minute. Hn estimated that there were more than two million birds in this one flock. A hundred years earlier an observer in Pennsylvania reported that the passenger pigeons alighted ■ in such numbers on trees as to break the branches off. The last known individual pass- j enger pigeon died in the Cincinnati LONGEVITY ... of newspapers— Zoological Park in 1914. The ex- For 50,000 consecutive days, ex- tinction of this bird is supposed to elusive of Sundays, the London ^ ue wholesale slaughter Morning Post has never failed tc ^ hunters. In 1879 passenger appear since it was founded in P^S eons s °ld a k retail in the Chicago 1772. This is the oldest daily markets for sixty cents a dozen and newspaper in the world that has a k°y with a shotgun could make been a daily since it was founded. a ^ ay ky killing them, even at There are one or two newspapers that price. in America which are older,, but | This * only one of the farms of they were weeklies for many years na tive wild iife which, like the before they became dailies. I know of nothing that is harder to kill than a good newspaper. 11 have had occasion to make a L>' , of American newspapers more than S ame laws to protect one hundred years old and was creatures as we have left. buffalo, have utterly vanished from the American scene because of un checked slaughter. Fortunately most states now have well-enforced such wild ftA.4 be the case in the first flare for big sleeves, but already in second show ings, bringing moderation in lines. This turn to smaller sleeves had to be in dresses and frocks, because it was necessary to get sleeves un der control, unless all coats were to be designed along swagger lines. Such not being the case, a distinc tive turn in sleeve design is already noted, which perhaps makes for more graceful designing. The new fall coat, shown in the , ^ , sketch, is an example of moderation _f. ir ^ a ^ p 4 f in the adaptation of the new style lines. Full of sleeve, but not too full, the shoulder line is maintain ed, yet suggests newness and chick- ness right abreast the most popular styles. Even the fur refrains from over exaggeration, topping off a amazed to find that there are near ly two hundred of them. That :.s probably more survivors ohan there are in any other line of business. Without exact figures at hand, I venture the guess that there are nowhere near two hundred busi nesses or industries in the United States that have survived a century of uninterrupted activity. SAXOPHONES . . . long with us— Almost a hundred years ago a Belgian named Adolphe Sax in vented a new kind of musical in strument and named it for himself, the saxophone. It speedily became a standard instrument for military bands in France. P. T. Barnum, the greatest showman the world has ever known, heard the saxo phone played when he was in Eu rope in the 1840’s and brought a band of saxophone players over to give concerts in his museum on lower Broadway, long before he ever started in the circus business. The saxophone is today the most popular of all musical instruments. Its re-discovery in America dates from about the time of the great war. One reason for its popularity is that it is easy to learn to play it. A great many people dislike saxo phone music but something like a hundred thousand of these instru ments are turned out every year by American factories and shipped all over the world. SCOTCH . . . buy our bonds— I dined the other night with the European representative of an im portant American financial institu tion, over here on a vacation. He told me that it was the canny Scotchmen who are responsible for the present activity in the bond an<l stock market in the United States. Edinburgh is the headquarters of a large number of British invest ment trusts. Along in the early part of the summer the managers of these trusts, looking for sound investments observed that condit ions seemed to be improving in the United States, that there was no longer any fear of our monetary stability, that some commodity prices were beginning to rise and that broad plans for the rehabilita tion of the financial situation were beginning to operate. At the same time they noted that American securities, particularly bonds, were selling at ridiculously low prices, so they began to buy them. They bought, and they kept on buying, and in a month or so their buying began to affect the Wall Street securities market and American investors began to fol- -iXt- THINGS WORTH KNOWING Of the 25,000 oil wells dug last year, 3,000 returned no oil. Beech trees form a shade so- dense that other trees and bushes rarely survive nearby. There are more than 200 breeds of domestic pigeons, all evolved from the blue rockdove. During the last fiscal year the United States biological survey em ployes and 4,000 co-operators, killed 102,000 pocket gophers in Arizona, according to announcement of A. Gilchrist, assistant biologist. William Thomson, eighty-seven, flew home to Wichita, Kas., in an airplane after visiting his son, Don ald Anderson ,at Boulder, Colo. Thomson is a civil war veteran, and believes flying safe. At Wickenburg, Ariz., the adobe house in which Henry Wickenburg lived and died fifty years ago, will become a curio of a guest ranch. The holise is to be part of the Bar F X ranch. Henry Wickenburg. w?^ the discoverer of the famous Vul ture gold mine. ^ A British scientist figures that earthquakes cause the deaths of about 14,090 human beings each year. Aeronautical exports from France last year were valued at $8,577,320. ' - The Tennessee department of the American Legion increased its en rollment by 149 per cent last year. Two of the largest Italian ship yards have been consolidated with a capital of 100,000,000 lire and three year’s work ahead. The minaret of one of the oldest mosques in all Bosnia, built in 1476, was blown down into a street in Sarajevo, smashing into fragments, but injuring nobody. So my friend told ne. POWER . . . inside the earth— Some day we will get a large part of our heat and power without us ing any fuel at all. In Italy more than 12,000 kilowatts of energy are generated by the heat obtained by General Cihoski, war minister, has ordered a census of all the con crete cellars in Roumania. It is supposed that he wishes to list ref uges for citizens in case of aerial bombardments in future wars. , . , . , . . . drilling holes into volcanic moun- conservative styled coat which T , ,, many women will choose because of ta s# n onoma ’ ’ . its trimness. In color, it may be st “ m fro , m «f sers 15 . t0 g ay, aithough the darker tones ap-; P“ ” pear to be favored. It is of course one of the new broadcloths—an The late Sir Herbert Parsons, in ventor of the steam turbine, work- _ . _ . , . f 'ed out a plan for boring a hole for old—yet a very new material for ...... y J twenty miles or more mto the hot 1932. HUMORETTES Waiter—Don’t you like your col lege pudding? Diner—No. I’m afraid there’s an egg in it that ought to have been expelled. Lissen—What made Wildroot send that bomb to the Editor of the Ev ening Snooze? Hurpa—The editor told him to send all future jokes written on tissue paper so he could see through them. interior of the earth and proved to ihe satisfaction of many engineers that its cost would be more than repaid by the continuous supply of heat and power which would thus be obtained. We haven’t as yet begun to more than scratch the surface of this old earth’s possible sources of wealth. PIGEONS . . . extinct passengers— Every little while some sportsman or naturalist reports having seen a live passenger pigeon. On investiga tion, however, it always turns out that the bird was a mourning dove, which is a smaller bird. One hundred years ago, in 1832, The discovery of the canals which cut through Ur of the Chaldees shows us a city of the ancient world very much like Venice of today. An expedition from the American Museum of Natural History has sailed for Patagonia to seek fossil animals of South America. Experiments at the University of Michigan have the aim of altering morphine so that it will relieve pain without having its terrible ha^bit-forming effects. The black diamond used in in dustry is said to be 3 per cent hard er than the gem diamond and is therefore the hardest known sub stance. About twenty-five miles of the underground passages of Carlsbad, caverns have been explored, and the end of the caverns is yet to be found. Dr. Laszlo Nanassy, one of the chief police officials of Hungary, says that few young people are committing suicide, but that self- destruction is increasing among persons over seventy years of age.. r'