McCormick messenger. (McCormick, S.C.) 1902-current, October 06, 1932, Image 3
4
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Thursday, October ■&, 1932
McCORMK K MKSSKNGER, McCORMICK, SOUTH CAROLINA
PACE NUMBER TBREB
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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..
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