Oh, the geese have all flown northward,
And the willows are in bud,
There's a tickling at my heartstrings,
There's a tingling in my blood,
For the woods and fields are calling,
| income,”
! hits a bottle,
lin Pa
he needs is a steady job—a sicady | examination at Harvard; had been | Spiritual
| attached as scerelary to several Pearly
“Can't be done. Why, the way he | Chinese legations embassies;
he'd disgrace us even during the World War—when
tagonia.” | had piled up enormously, when for
“I wasn't referrin gto a political Hany meus Ye had toiled
A business job. Some place where | brain with opium until, at last, he
his boozing can't do any harm—ex- had surrendered, body and soul, and
Sept 10 Riiaulf Fou Oui 3 soutroll- | aibities, to the curling black
interest in the Far Eastern smoke,
I te Company—" | Still, to him, as to Seabury Clarke,
i “Well?” | was
i
i
F
5
i Smile as ne
heard nearer and nearer, the thun-
| der of the drums; as he heard, pres-
ently, the echo of hoofs, the crackle
of weapons and savage, gutteral war
cries.
He stood very still. He counted the
seconds, the minutes. Two minutes,
Tzu Po must have reached
armory. And just then, out of
mist, the raiders gallop-
And the mountains bid me start. “Send Seabury to Japan er China tude on the part of those in power
Yes, oe re is upon me, | —anywhere at all.” | For at the time when Young China Nonni River—and Marshall Chang
And is pulling at my heart. The business man—they were in had arisen in the yellow, stinking Hsueh-liang’s soldiers were mareh -
his office had thought; had finally slums of Canton and had brushed ing swiftly to prevent this junction.
The violets haunt the lowlands,
The red bird calls his mate,
And for a touch of warmer sun
The dogwood’'s blossoms wait,
Far away my dreams are sailing
Golden seas without a chart,
The call of Spring harkened to,
And it's pulling at my heart.
Asia fastened on the wall.
“Sounds like a new variety of
chop suey.”
there for the sole purpose of greas-
I want to wander—wander,
To the land of far away,
hills and streams enihrall me
nl or something bids me stay; fire our former agent for splitting
And tho still I'd like to wander,
It is mighty hard to part
From the Girl—for in the Spring:ime
She pulls stronger at my heart,
Ap pp
WHEN WAR GODS CALL
Outside the solitary pollard the any white people there. I'd advise
willow tree in front of tbe Chinese Seabury to leave his wife in San
magistrate’s palace creaked and Francisco.”
groaned under white hummocks of | “He isn't married. There used to
Snow. be a girl in the offing—sweet kid—
Snow was everywhere. It thudded but——"
down in soft, tal It swept J Couldn't compete with the bot-
fitfully across the sunset that was tle?
ining to show its proud heart of “Right. Well, perhaps he'll reform
color through the gray, drifting, in Liang Kiao.”
melancholy cloud banks. It mantled Pe
with frosted, gauzy silver the pea- to death.
cock-blue and mandarin-yellow of “Poor beggar! He had a real mind
uplifted pagoda roofs and the harsh once—a future.”
raw crimson of Buddhist wayside “And now he has his future be-
shrines, pind, a 3 oi
It veiled the towering, arrogant “Yes. yet he's a fine type o
height of the temple of Lao-yeh, the American. He's of Puritan stock; is
god of war. It etched tiny diamond Still, deep down in his heart, the
points on the coarse, voluminous fur Idealist, the Christian, who believes
coats of the people—not only native ID Peace and good will upon earth. |
born Manchus, but also aliens of He hates the very thought of war, of
half a dozen races—who were am- ©0loodshed,
Which reminds me—is
Seahury
straight 2”
ing the crooked fingers of a couple quoting a
us local mandarins. And we Soup wood. Let it molder away by itself.”
“In money matters? Absoluteiy,” mandarin had suggested.
“That's good. It takes an honest will not be able to do harm there.
man to hang out the graft—without Nothing there except dirt and goat-
becoming contaminated. By the way, | ish odors. And the people—Budda!
Liang-kiao is a lonely dump. Hardly | Budda!—Most - regretable descend-!
' opium there is cheap.”
fear and, perhaps, world strife.
walked over to the large map of away the gray Bourbon cobwebs of
chu tyrants. Tzu Po had been
“Here we are,” he said, pointing. among the leaders, and one of the
“The very spot for him—Liang-kiao.” most fearless, the most constructive.
And so—again as in the case of
| Seabury Clarke—the people in pow-
, “It's a one-horse town in northern er had said: a
Manchuria. We keep a small office thing for him.
“We must do some-
“What can we do? You know"—
Chinese proverb—*“rotten
“Nor need one try to carve rotten
with them-—after raising the ante. wood. Let it molder away by itself.”
“Where ?"”
“Wha about Liang-kiao?” a young
“Tzu Po
ants of addled duck eggs; and the
So Liang-kiao it had been for Tzu
Po. That dronish, laggard town
which, presently, was destined to.
| leap sensationally into the focus of
world newspaper headlines, world
There, night after night, the two
' friends met at Tzu Po's house, There |
“And perhaps he'll drink himsaif
| filling his glass,
| cube
they were on this bleak, cold winter's
night, the American filling and re-
and the Chinese,
sitting on the broad divan by his
friend's side, reaching out a hand
toward a taboret that was laden
with the opium smoker's parapher-
nalia: yen-shi and yen-hox, boxes of
horn and porcelain, and a small
lamp flame of which was veiled by!
butterflies in green enamel.
Delicately, with nervous, agile!
| fingers, he kneaded the brown
And then there was a bridge, Some-
thing terribly urgent about a bridge.
What was it?
He tried to think, to release the
catch in his brain; did not succeed.
Should he ask his friend?
“Seabury!” he called, nudging him.
“Lemme alone, you heathen
Chink!” the latter grunted impa-
' tiently. “Having dreams. Such swell
‘dreams, White House;
inaugural
ceremonies; driving down Massachu-
setts Avenue, and people cheering.”
He hiccuped loudly, then dropped
into heavy slumber; and Tzu Po
smiled.
Let the bridge look after itself,
he decided. Ah, let all China look af-
ter itself. The bridge did not matter.
Nohing mattered except happiness--
and he smoked again; smoked three
| pipes in rapid succession—The room
was filling with scented fog, and his
brain seemed endowed with a new
and intense vitality. Hidden things
became clear to him. The soul with-
in his soul came to the surface. This
| inner soul was reaching out toward
his former longings, his former am-
bitions.
Ah, another pipe or two and ae
would be walking hand in hand with
the lesser gods. He smoked again-—
and found dreams; found by the
same token, his real life. Found
himself—as years earlier, when he
had become a chien shih, “Doctor
of Eminent and Exquisite Law,” in
Peking, inthe Palace of August and
Happy Education. Found himself, as
he did every night, on the threshold
of the audience hall, kowtowing
seven times and seeing, on the wall,
Yellow faces, wolfish, grim. Crim-
banners. A flash cf lance points
and swords.
The American did not move. Tzu
Po, he thought, would need another
three minutes—four—to find the
box, to twist the knob, to blow up
the armory, the bridge; to keep the
Mongolians from joining the Japan-
ese; to save the world from dying in
a sea of hatred and lost blood. His
lips worked. He felt nausea contract-
ing his throat, but he controlled
himself. He drew his revolver and
fired.
The bullet struck a Mongolian
captain, The man fell sideways out
of the saddle. He lay there on the
ground.
Again the nausea in Seabury’'s
throat. Again he fired. Again he hit
his mark—and, momentarily, the
troopers reined their small, shaggy
ponies while, once more, the Ameri-
can pulled the trigger.
Five minutes, he thought; six!
Surely by this time Tzu Po must
have found the box,
And he tossed the empty revolver
away. He ran up toward the raiders.
He gave a queer high-pitched little
laugh, as right then, from the hill
came the gigantic ominous roar of
exploding shells and T. N. T. oven
as he went down beneath the crim-
son swish of Mongolian swords. —
Hearst's International Cosmopclitan
by Achmed Abdullah,
A —— A —————
COME URL AN AvLVRUBILES
Yes, war everywhere! War-—east,
north, south, west! War of white
man and brown and red and black
and yellow! War on land and sea!
War in the air!
World War, because of a few
thousand Monngolian raiders trying
to unite with the Japanese.
Ah, thought Seabury Clarke, if
only Marshall Chang Hsueh-liang
would hurry; would hurl the Mongo-
lians back across the frontier before
the Japanese arrived from Mukden!
If only the conflict could be localiz-
ed between China and Japan! Why,
it would save the world from anoth-
er avalanche of blood!
But how could it be done? i
For the artillery fire crept nearer
and nearer. Shells dropped. From a
low hogback hill west of Liang Kiao
a curled, inky plume of smoke stab-
bed at the sky that was flushing
with the gold and rose-pink of early
morning. i
A clear morning it was, with a.
stiff wind that swept the streets free |
of snow. A hectic, panicky morning
—with people pouring from the
houses asking excited questions. And |
the artillery fire creeping nearer «nd
ever nearer. And Seabury Clarke
thinking: |
“What's to be done? Dear God,
what's to be done?”
He stared at Tzu Pe, who stared
back at him. Then, the next mo-
ment, the same idea came to hoth
men.
“The d-dispaches,” stammered
American, “from Nanking.”
“The bridge; you remember?”
Greater comiort 10 auwiaobiles is
now lne cnet ovjecuve or cages: s,
#ccoruiug Ww voun A, CO. wagner,
the |
bling along on their various errands, Pacifist, eh?
their legs encased in clumsy, knee-
high felt boots, their heads crowned
by great woolen caps, their noses
wrinkled like rabbit's against the
bitter wind that came booming out
of the frozen hills and steppes of
northern Manchuria.
Cold it was outside. Bleak, biting,
arctic cold. But inside the palace was
warm. Pleasantly worm. Pleasantly
odorous with fumes of alcohol and
opium-—the vice of the West ming-
ling with the vice of the East. And
of he West, by every sign of lean
body, steel-blue eyes and fair, gray-
ing hair, was the tan American who
lay stretched out onthe divan; while
of the East-—rather exaggeratedly
so, in fact was the other, the Chinese
magistrate, silky, urbane, smooth,
© bland, who had squeezed his fantas-
tic bulk into a stiff chair of tulip-
wood and marble mosaic.
They were friends, these two,
Seabury Clark and Tzu Fo. They had
been friends for years.
The link between them was strong.
It had been tempered by misery and
tested by shame. For it was based
upon a strange and tragic reciproc-
ity—the reciprocity of understand-
ing, and condoning, each other's be-
setting sin: the American's craving
for whiskey and, in the case of the
Chinese, his craving for opium, Be-
sides, there was a parallel in the
fateful! pendulum of their careers:
the promising beginnings and
prophecies of high honors to
achieved; and the drab, flat, pathetic
endings—here, in this little Man-
churian town of Liang-kiao.
A few years earlier,
Clark had been a brilliant young
lawyer and politician in his native
San Francisco, with the State Sen-
ate his immediate ambition, and the
White House itself shining like a
Holy Grail in the autumnal distance
of his full, ripe life.
Of course, politics is like any
other game. One has to train; to
start on a scratch team.
Thus it had been with Seabury
Clarke: the scratch team at first—
afterward politics. Add
Seabury
Chang
pa- clipped, singsong monosyllables: advancing rapidly through Hei-lung-
Te sort of pacifist who'd fight pipe;
‘and kill and die—for the sake of
” the flame change it gradually to am- tations from the Kuang-Yuan Chang,
| “Then Manchuria is his meat. For | ber gold. The first read: “Happiness is a vir-
you mark my words, Mac—sooner ~The opium boiled, sizzled, dissoly- tuous thing!” The second:
‘or later merry hell is going to pop | ed, evaporated. The fragrant, opal- tO be happy being virtuous!" The
out there between the Japs and the | escent smoke rolled in sluggish | third: “Lo and behold—I have
Chinks. All right. Give your friend clouds across the room; and Tzu Po, achieved happiness!
a ring. Tell him he's got a job.” having emptied the pipe at one The fourth streamer bore no in-
So, before the end of the week, breath, leaned back against the Scription. Yet Tzu Po knew that,
Seabury had bidden farewell to the square, stiff leather pillows, sooner or later, the Master of the
Golden Gate, to Market Street and The outer world seemed very far House would write on it. He wonder-
| the Barbary Coast; and several away. ‘ed what
weeks later, he had taken his first There was just a memory of dered now as the Master of the
| good look at Liang Kiao. sounds drifting in through the tignt- | House came in: a tall man-—though
! He had hikidered: had whisper- ly closed windows. Just a memory
ed: Dear Lord!"
then dropped it into the open Silk.
furnace of the lamp and watched
‘ing scenery. Indeed, Manchuria at booming in from the north and
its most glorious. The Nonni River! ing at the moon with hard,
rolling blue and ma, c. The sky fingers. Just a memory ’ and being bidden to
a mother-of-pearl slab piling up out there ambling along and talking a seat,”
over a shoulder of a slow, genteel of such unimportant things as love the room,
hill. In the farther distance, vermil- and hate, life and death; or,
lion and ocher and elfingreen moun-
| “Please deign to enter first!”
on the left side of
as a special mark of hon-
were the speakers of Japanese. spies turquoise button on his cap bringing
‘tains toward a rainbow twilight. or native born traitors, of such neg- | two jade cups filled with hot wine;
But-—the town itself! ligible matters as Manchurian rail- cups not of the garish, grass-green
Squalid, Moldy. Dense. Mazed. Ways and the destinies of great em-iao jade which foreigners like, but
Packed wih people of a dozen races Pires and the red coming of war. of the white and transparent iu jade
—bickering, querulous, mean. And War. Railways. Traitors, Japan. that the rites reserve for princes,
the smells—seventy-seven different Why, Tzu Po had heard of it; Viceroys, Manchu dukes, ministers,
smells and all bad. vaguely remembered dispatches from Poets and distinguished scholars.
And the dust—since water had not the national government at Nanking
yet come with its clean snow blank- which had been brought, a few !00, was a
et. Dust rising in spirals. Dust black hours earlier, by a confidential mes- Had he not passed high in all ex.
and choking. Dust that dried a man's Senger and which, with Seabury a8minations?
gullet and made him thirsty. Clarks's help, he had decoded, | __Oh, yes! He was distinguished.
On the other hand—a point in: But that had been after his third | He was successful —and so he sat
Liang-kiao's favor—plenty of places pipe and after the American had had | there, sipping his wine, staring at
‘to quench one's thirst and an abund- a few drinks. So they had not botn- the four silken streamers, finally
‘ant choice of alcohol. Oh, yes, plenty | ered much. asking, as he asked every night:
| of places and plenty of strong liquor, Still, he recalled something of “When will
with the result that, on the after- these dispatches. | fourth streamer,
'noon of his arrival, Seabury Clarke Something about a Japanese bri- brother?
had gone from native inn to native gade cutting its steady, ruthless, ef- I; 3
inn, had finally become roaring ficient way from Mukden no:th to- “Perhaps never!
' drunk—and there had been a quar- ward the Nonni River—and beyond But tonight the repiy was differ-
‘rel; a dagger flashing in the hand of the western border, the Cheptsun-
O wise and older
‘black tragedy. Saint,” the ruler of Mongolia who
© But a man had hurried to the was in sympathy with Japan, send-
! rescue. This man, a Chinese, had ing troops into Manchuria—and the
!hurtled across chairs and tables with two invading forces trying to effect
' great speed in spite of his huge a junction—and, to prevent this tuous than
size. He had knocked the Tartar junction an army of Chinese patriots, alty, self-sacrifice, courage.”
down; had addressed him with irate. led by Marshall Hsueh-liang, = Silence.
Then the . Master of the House
He walked up to the wall.
bold mandarin heiroglyphics he
scrawled on the cherry-red silk:
against the tiny bowl of his, four long streamers of cherry-red
Three were embroidered with quo- |
“T wish
this writing would be; won- |
| never had Tzu Po been able to make |
(of the thudding, whirling snow and out his features distinctly—who bow- |
Nothing wrong with the surround- the bitter wind of the . steppes ed, as he did every night, and said:
Then Tzu Po crossing the thresh-
“deign to!
belike, | OF. And a soft footed servant with a
| Ah, Tzu Po considered proudly, he, |
ished scholar.
you write on the.
Usually the answer would be: .
ent. The Master of the House rose.
‘a Tarter cattle drover; and, almost, dampa Hutukhtu or “Venerable Best He said: “I shall write on it gi
“There are three things more vir-
happiness. They are loy-
“Yes; yes.”
They hurried over to the table.
They unrolled the sheets of creamy
rice paper. They read the m es;
chiefly one, sent by the head of the
Military Intelligence Department,
Major Ch'u Yu, an engineer officer
trained in America.
The major's message dealt with
the railway bridge that spanned the
Nonni at a distance below Liang-
kiao. The Mongolians would have to
cross it so as to join the Japanese
who were advancing from the cther
side. But they were still aver fifty
miles away; would not be able tn
interfere with the Mongolians.
Here was a danger which, months
earlier, Major Ch'u Yu had fureseen
—and had tried to prevent.
joining the bridge was a stone-built
armory. It housed vast quantities
of material bought cheap after he
World War and kept there to outfit
| local levies in the event of trouble.
' All sorts of rifles it contained, mod-
ern and old-fashiooned; bombs und
H. E. shells—and one more thing.
A small thing it was. A box, tne
invention of Major Ch'u Yu,
| which a thermoelectric couple played
a part, as well as some pellets of
sal ammoniac and a certain other
secret activity of electrochemistry;
a box, furthermore, which, in time of
direst need, a man could use single-
handed.
He would have to be a courage-
ous man. For a sharp twist of the
‘black knob—and the box would ex-
plode—and then there would be an
rend to the armory that housed T. N.
| 'T. and the Mill's bombs; an end, too,
to the bridge; an end, finally, to
the man himself,
It was a task, most decidedly, for
a patriot.
slow and heavy—‘“for a man who,
' by dying, might wipe out the score
of his wasted life, who, after death,
with the lesser gods.”
“A task,” rejoined the other, ‘for
‘a gentleman,”
For— the dispatch went on--ad-
“A task"—Tzu Po's words wera
might indeed walk hand in hand
'ghecal wanager or tue Society or
| Aulomouive wmngineers which held
Ils summer meelug at waite Sul-
pour Springs, va, recently.
rutliug out that Pracucally all
cars have been developed to a rela-
uvely high point of mechanical effi-
ciency and may be depended upon
to “get you tnere and bring you
| Die; wall. * Warner declared that
i Pp c now demanding er
‘&nda roomier automobile isger
cush-
t i ig and more comfortable
| ions, er springs and richer up-
. holstery. »
Paul D. Paddock, secretary of the
Mohair Institute, told how tests
have proven that pile fabric
tering, the usual mohair velvets,
Brip the passenger's or driver's
clothing, helping to held the rider
in a more comfortable and safer
| position, also how the fabric, be-
cause of its especial accoustical
| value, subdues, or absorbs noise,
lessening the nervous strain on the
drivers.
The fact that mohair velvets do
‘not shine the clothing was an added
point of interest considered by the
in | engineering gathering.
| queston of riding comfort and
fatigue has been reduced to a simple
term by the invention of a “wab-
Hametenp by Dr. F. A. Moss, of
rge Washington University. With
‘this instrument he is able
The subject stands on the ‘“wabble-
meter” which is simply a platform
| adjusted on sensitive s If the
platform tips in any direction, be-
| cause of the unsteadiness of the sub-
| ject, counters record the movements
so that by clocking the number of
times the platform tips,
degree of. fatigue is measured, for
{ When a person is tired, he. cannot
| stand as steadily on the platform,
| His tests also show that , the
squeaks and rattles produced in an
automobile contribute to the fatigue
{of the occupants. Sounds like these
| are dulled by the use of mohair
| velvet or velmo upholstery, other
Tzu Po smiled. He turned toward ests have proved.
triotic gatherings and local political
clubs. Causing the Eagle to scream Magic
on the glorious Fourth. Thundering, Tartar
in and out of season, against the
Yellow Peril—Asiatic immigration. |
Also duties less stern, though quite | the suddenly sober American, speak- |
as important. For instance, slapping ing in excellent English: i
people on the back. Gossiping with
the woman. Kissing grubby babies, I am Tzu Po—the hien, the magis-
as long as they were the grubby trate.”
babies of legally registered voters. Seabury had stammered his
words, evidently,
“Ngo iu ni yat, chin gan po tan!” kiang.
for the about the
had picked himself up. Three been bribed.
j times, obsequiously, he had kowtow- And—something else!
ed, while the other had turned to ' What was it?
Playing pinochle and stud poker with , thanks, “All my fault” he added |
the boys. And-—naturally, since a apologetically.
politician cannot be a snub—drink- much, and I'
ing with these same boys. “Why should you be?
Oh, yes. Dropping in,
every evening, at
“I had a drop too!
Failings
little nip or two—or three—or, may-
be, half a dozen—and the nips in- pleasant, don’t you think?
creasing in number and potency sighing, “I, too, have a bypath.”
while, proportionately, his energy, Thus they had met. They had |
his ambition, his efficiency had de- dined together,
creased. | had taken an immediate liking
Drunk more than once; | each other,
drunk—until one day the boss had laughing—rather morosely—at
told him: “You've got to cut it out, parallel swing of their fates.
old man.” | For Tzu Po's career had been
“I know.” similar to that of Seabury Clarke.
He had tried to cut it out; had |The scion of an excellent Canton
failed. Still, he had not lost hold on! family, he had to Peking.
his favorite ward. No rhad this fer- | There, at the Palace of August and
tile eloguence suffered, not even| Happy Education, he had passed his
when he was in hiscups. Andsoon a| entrance examination and had re-
certain evening after a presidential | ceived his initial degree, called,
election-—when he, and he alone, had
been able to swing a crucial block of
doubtful votes into the ballot boxes
of his party, which came out victort-
ous—the boss had said to a friend,
a rich business man slated for Wash-
ington and a Cabinet portfolio:
“I wasn't referring to a political
something for him.”
“I'll write him a check.”
“No good. He'd drink it up. What
“Degree of Budding Talent.”
Two years later he had achieved
with distinction, the classic degree
of “Honorable Promoted-Man.” Fi-
nally, he had become a chen shih, a
“Doctor of Eminent and Exquisite
Law,” and had returned to his na-
tive Canton.
Then he had been sent to Ameri-
ca. He had passed a no less brilliant
with flowery Chinese euphemism, the |
that evening, and | such alluring dreams.
to
exchanging confidencss, Clarke. The latter, too, was dream- | enormous sheet of dazzling, whitish-
the | ing: whisky dreams, pleasant dreams. blue light leaping
i
And—oh, yes! something |
f
Something terribly urgent. :
That's what the dispatches had
“Permit me to introduce myself. said: “Terribly urgent.” |
And it had to do with—wait!—
1 yes, a railway bridge. }
But what, precisely i
He puzzled; wondered. Then he
gave up. It did not matter. Nothing
m ashamed of myself.” mattered except the kindly poppy-- ed echoed and reverberated
almost | are as human as virtues. What did |
some saloon on Confucius say? “The Great Way is placid, buttec-yellow fea
Market street, and having a sociable very noble; but all love the bypaths.’ | stared at the rolling
| And these bypaths—they are very They seemed filled with odors of his .
Ah,” | past dreams—his dreams of high peaked to an immense climax of
and he smoked again. {
A slow smile over-spread his
opium clouds,
|
f
honors and splendid
changing into his future dreams,
|
He turned and looked at Seabury
Doubtless, considered Tzu Po, the |
American was happy. Ah, the Bud-!
Py. i
And why not?
Was it not Confucius who had!
said that happiness is the true and |
only aim of the wise? |
Happiness!
Yes. Happiness for him in the
Ppy- |
That evening he had smoked twen- |
ty-seven times. Now he prepared a
pipe which he called his “Pipe of De-
lightful Vice” It was a precious
‘thing of rose crystal with seven long
black tassels and a white-jade
mouthpiece carved exquisitely with
all the many divinities of the Taoist
heaven: from Loa-tze himself to the |
turned toward Tzu Po—and, all. at
local mandarins having once, the latter saw the man’s fea-
tures distinctly, Fe saw the noble,
acquiline nose, the broad forehead,
the snow-white beard. He saw, and
recognized, and on his knees
ame Pd
“Confucius!”
And Confucius touched him on
the shoulder. He repeated: Loyalty,
self-sacrifice, courage. —"
With a voice like thunder he
spoke the words. Thunder that coil-
in Tzu
Po's brain; that startled him
ly, cruelly, out in his opium dream;
tures. He that, queerly, even after the dream |
was over, continued; that
crashing in from the outside;
came
that
endeavors, sound waves like a giant beating a ' deaf; soundless. |
huge drum; that was follewed the |
next moment-—as Tzu Po rushed to
the window and looked out—by an
then dropping with a million racing
flames.
(day be praised! —they were both hap-| Tzu Po knew what it was. Ie had |
heard it before, in Europe, during
the World War. It was an artillery
salvo—far out—a number of miles
away.
He turned to call Seabury. But the
| American was already awake. Red- |
eyed he was, gray-faced—and sober.
He, too, knew. “Artillery, oh?"
“Over in the west.”
“The Mongolians, I guess.”
“Hurrying to unite with the Japa-
nese. Remember the dispatches?”
“Yes.”
“War!”
“War!” echoed Seabury. He shud-
dered. He cursed. He hated war.
He thought that—just as, over a
up to the zenith,
the door. “I must hurry,” he said. .
“So must I. I'm going with you.” , REAL ESTATE TRANSFERS
| “Why should you?” | ns
{| “I'm your friend.” | Ben Kasmark to Mrs. Kate Pe-
“Even S0——" | trosky, tract in Rush Twp.; $300.
"Oh, don't be a damned fool!” R. N. Harnish, et ux, to. James
' Seabury Clarke exclaimed impatient- | Smegler, tract in Walker Twp.;
ily. “It's ten miles to the bridge. I've ' $1,625.
| got my flivver outside. Come!” | John M. Boob, sheriff, to Howard
A minute later they were racing pg Holtzworth, tract in Unionville
out in the open country toward their poro,; $150.
| 20k he Nog} ne Bg John M. Boob, sheriff, to F. C.
Y= saw : Dinges, et ux, tract in Penn Twp,;
| spanning the river; saw close to it, $4,270
onthe: Fretted rest of a bill, tho ar’ oP eral. teil
| mory; saw neither € nor armory Mau - Auman, ’ .
very distinctly. For from the Nonni | dred Boob, tract in Haines Twp.; $1.
|& heavy mist had risen, clothing Thomas A. Meyer, et ux, to War-
| everything in a sudden gray blanket. ren T. Korman, tract in Penn town-
Blind seemed the world here; ship; $150.
Catherine Armor to Nellie Cole,
Woscv gl oy ra Mey, act in. Bellefonte; $1.
Tug; they | LeRoy J. Baer, et ux, to Willard
ViHng? bing tlie muffled, sardon- | Baer, tract in Gregg Twp.; $5.
The American stepped on the gas, ta Frank Gate, eo yin ot al, io
called out to Tzu Po: “The Mongol- | or use, t. in Ferguso
jans! Not much time to lose!” | Twp.; $400.
He sped madly for a minute or, J. W. Henszey, et ux, to Bella S,
| two; then pulled up at the foot of Schlow, tract in State College; $1.
(the hill that was topped by the| Floyd H. Snyder, et ux, to Clara
| armery. He jumped out. He spoke | T. Bateson, tract in State College;
| on t to drive the rest ns
“You've go ve the rest of | (ara T. Bateson to Floyd H.
the way yourself! Go on! Beat it! | Snyder, et ux, tract in Soya Col-
| The Mongolians—they’ll be here lege; $1.
| soon.” J. Clayton Corl, et ux, to Helen M.
PL know But you, what are YOU |S haetter, tract in Ferguson Twp.;
| going to do?” $1.
‘TIl wait for them—parley with Helen M. Schaeffer to J. Clayton
them-—to give you time. Hurry!” | : A
And so, the next moment, Tzu Po | Corl, et ux, tract in Ferguson Twp.;
drove up the hill, while Seabury
Clarke put his hand in his pocket| Howard A. Orndorf, et ux, to Ed-
and touched the blue steel of the | win S, Bierly, et ux, tract in Miles
| automatic. Oh, yes, he said to him- | Twp.; $2,000.
i