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nil I \ 9 \ ^ The one eyed Captain Rime; was waiting at so nearly the exact spot where Dick took the deck that he had te jump back. INSTALLMENT SIXTEEN THE STOAT SO FAB: Karen Water Ma, bellevtax haraalt te ka tea heir te Alakoa, tea laland estate at bar sraad tatear, lads herself aa heiress at all, vhaa tea oM (eaUeman, Garrett Water Ma, tarns up after a leas disappear ance. Meantime ska and bar lawyer have bean encased In a dispute over tea rlfhta to tee property with tea Wayne family wbe have been In possession since the old man left, many years before. Kichard (Tonsa Dick) Wayne hat fallen la lore with Karen, as has also the lawyer, John Colt. After she quarrels with Dick, Karen decides to leave Ala koa with Colt. Old Garrett Waterton has arrived at Alakea and Is very 111 with fever but expresses a wish to see Karen. Aa Toaca Dick coot te And her ho sees that she and Colt have put out to sea. Be Is determined to brine Karen hack te see her grandfather. Now continue with tea story. CHAPTER XIV Even yet, behind the beach of Ala koa, continued the music and danc ing which was an extension of the wake for the death of James Wayne; relaxing now into an emotional deb acle which had forgotten the reason that it began. Consequently the crew -of the Holokai, held on the vessel when they had expected to go ashore, was in resentful and surly mood. From that frustrated and dark-skinned crew any skipper could expect a sullen handling of lines and gear, and the uneasy, heavy-weight ed obedience of men who like noth ing about their work. But this time as Dick Wayne swung aboard the Holokai something different hap pened. Tonga Dick came aboard relaxed and smiling, and every move that he made was lazy. The easy droop of his whole figure would have seemed, at first glance, to be that of a man upon whom anybody could impose. And yet, as soon as he stepped aboard, a peculiar and un explainable discipline came over the whole length of the Holokai. The crew forgot the doings behind the beach, and the drinking they had missed, and the girls they had missed; suddenly they wanted noth ing except to be out of range of the inevitable explosion. Tonga Dick didn't see any of that. He didn't notice the unaccustomed smartness with which deck Kanakas got out of his way,, nor the naval precision with which Inyashi attend ed him?not too close. The rail felt unnatural as he swung over it be cause his hands were cold and trem bling; and he was seeing nothing ex cept the wavering lights of the Seal, probing out through a channel which no one aboard her knew. The tall rollers that came across two thousand miles of Pacific were breaking low upon the coral reefs. Ho one could make his way through there who had not been born among those reefs?not as the tides lay now. Certainly Captain Ramey, bad navigator and weak pilot, could not find his way through. Dick watched the Seal swing perilously in the rip of the tide; he waited confidently, even hopefully, knowing what kind of rock was reaching for the Seal's plates. Presently, he believed, he would take the people off the foun dering Seal, and put them back where they belonged?where he had told them to stay. He waited for the reel of the Seal's lights, the sick check of her motion which would mark the physical concussion be tween John Colt's will and the actu alities of land and water. There was a moment, suspended in hair-breadth contest, in which he knew the Seal could not live?that the one-eyed Ramey had made one mistake too many. Then, unaccount ably, by a whim of the sea, the Seal shook off the reef through a course in which no vessel had ever succeeded yet?and was free in open water. Even the broken-toothed coral seemed to have failed Dick Wayne. ?Take your anchor up," Dick said. His voice was so low that Inyashi, waiting near as he was, had to ask him to repeat. "Weigh your anchor, and give me the Diesel I What is this? Doesn't anything I say ever stick any more?' The Seal was in the open sea; but now the Holokai was coming out, brought by a shorter and easier way. When Dick Wayne had brought her through the treacherous and an gling channel he set his hip against the wheel, letting the Holokai buck brokenly against the cross chop. "Inyashi," Dick said, "that is our boat." "Our boat, Captain?" "I'm going aboard that boat and bring her back," Dick said. Something special showed in In yashi then. Sometimes people won dered why a squatty little yellow man, who looked like a clerk in a Japanese dry goods store, should be right-hand man to Dick Wayne. If they had been watching, they might have found out something about that now. Inyashi's face wrinkled in a peculiar grin; it was deferential still, but a peculiar drawing of the lips made the eye teeth show, so that all at once, without ever step ping out of his place, Inyashi was something else than he had been before. "Are all the Kanakas aboard?" Dick asked. "All five, Captain Dick." "Bring 'em here." The crew of the Holokai didn't look like much as Inyashi brought them up to the wheel which Dick still held. These were slovenly look ing men, not very well washed. Their taces were dark; the hair of some of them had a crinkly bush; the noses of some were nothing else but fiat, and the lips noticeably thick. A Polynesian who, on a surfboard, seems the image of a god, can look like scum in dungarees. 'You see that boat up there?" Dick said. None of them said anything, and their faces were inexpressive. The question was rhetorical. Whatever these brown-skinned men might miss in this world or the next, they never missed anything on the face of the sea. "We're going to come up close on that boat in a minute," Dick said. "We're going to swing so close to her that maybe we'll smash her rud der off. I'm going aboard, and I'm going to take her back to Alakoa. After I've gone aboard, the Holokai is going to stand by for maybe ten minutes. Within ten minutes the malahine boat will turn and go back. If it doesn't turn?" Dick Wayne stopped a moment, while he turned the Holokai more carefully into the wake of the Seal's lights. "Then, Captain?" Inyashi prompt ed. In the undistinguished yellow face the canine teeth were showing in Inyashi's peculiar new smile. "If," Dick said, "the Seal does not turn in ten minutes after I have boarded her, the Holokai will come alongside the Seal and lash fast." "And then??" Inyashi said again. "One way or another," Dick said, "I'm going to take the Seal back to Alakoa." Dick Wayne didn't even look at the faces of the Kanakas?he knew what was there. They were looking at each other then, but not in sullen ness nor rebellion. The faces of these men were thick-skinned as leather, weathered by a thousand tropic suns; but now there was a cu rious drawing up of the faces of the first man and the third?different from a smile, and at the same time nothing else?as if the deep-skinned leather had been drawn up by inner cords. If any haole had anything these men could understand, Dick Wayne had it; and they understood him now. Without looking at them at all, he knew that they would take the Seal, if he named the Seal, no matter what else happened after that. Dick had to grin a little, but not without affection, as he reo ognized that he was perfectly cer tain of what these men could be counted on to do. "Get your buffers out to star board." The Seal was all out, and, as Dick already knew, Ramey's boat had a surprising turn of speed; but there was nothing she could do to get away from the Holokai, in the open sea. The Holokai had been built for sail, but she had taken to her power with a surprising surety, so that under her Diesel she went over the water like a thrown shell. Def initely and steadily, with an arith metic accuracy, the Holokai came up on the Seal; and nothing that men's intentions or present emotions might do could effect that steady overtaking: She could overhaul the unhappy Seal tonight simply by a mathematics of oil and iron con trived by forgotten designers, some of whom were dead . . . "I have to go now," Dick said to Inyashi. "You mean?you mean?" "Take the wheel, and throw her so close that you pick her wheel man's teeth with the buckle of your belt." "What are you going to do?" In yashi demanded. ?. "I'm going to leave this rail, and go aboard this other boat," Dick said. "Tonga," Inyashi said, lapsing into the name under which he had first known Dick, "if I miss the swing, even by inches?it Just can not be done." "You go ahead and do It Take the wheel." The Holokai's deck crew were lounging against the weather rail as Dick left the wheel. They appeared to be resting; but Dick caught the gleam of a long knife in the belt of a boy who looked the laziest of all. "Stay back," he warned them. "Stay back until your time comes!" Nobody moved on the deck of the Holokai as Dick went over the rail of the Seal. Everyone of those sea riding men must have known what inspiration was in Inyashi's hand as he drew the Holokai past the Seal, against the restless swell of the countering sea. But they stood, waiting their turn, while Dick made his jump across better than a fath om of open water; and, gaining the Seal's deck, signaled Inyashi to stand clear. The one-eyed Captain Ramey was waiting at so nearly the exact spot where Dick took the deck that he had to jump back when Dick came down over the rail. "What's this. What is this?" "How would you like to turn your boat?" Dick said. "Listen?wait?listen!" There was a frantic expostulation in Ramey's voice, not without its note of ap peal. "You can't do this! What are you going to do? Damn me, you can't do it! You know I hardly ever get a decent charter, and when I do, do you have to butt in, and?" Everyone upon the Seal had known that the Holokai was coming from behind, had seen Dick Wayne come aboard. There was a ring of faces, now, all around Ramey and Dick Wayne. Through the quick fog that action makes he saw that John Colt, too, was there. "You can't do this," Ramey said again. "I'll hang you higher than a kite in any court?" Dick saw now where Karen Wa terson was. She was leaning against the bulkhead of the cabin, detached still, with an unreadable face. "You don't even know what I'm going to do." "Sure, I know," Ramey said with as much black malice as can be put through one eye. "Go ahead and do it?and see what happens to youl Will you, now?" "You have your choice," Dick said. "You can turn back, if you're willing to turn back." John Colt spoke then. He said, "I really don't understand?" "Shut your head," Dick said crudely. He spoke across them all, to Karen who stood against the bulk head of the cabin; and although he rii/l nnt roi?A hit wnicA nr? nn? crtnlH have mistaken to whom he spoke. "You're going back now," Dick said. "You're going back, and you're not even asking why." John Colt said, with a singularly decent poise, "Are we to under stand??" "You wouldn't understand this. An old, dying man wants to sea what his grandchild looks like. I have guaranteed that he will. The girl is going back." "If you mean Miss Waterson," Colt said, "she is going where she chooses to go." "Sorry." The sound of the sea was all around them, but within it there was a peculiar silence, in which nothing human had anything to say. John Colt stepped forward across the swaying deck, into that ring of faces. "This isn't a hundred years ago. We're not in the days of Captain Cook; we're not even in the days of Henry Morgan. We're not living in the old days, Wayne." "No," answered Tonga Dick, "but this is the sea." "Am I to suppose?" 'T don't care what you suppose. I have to take Karen Waterson back to Alakoa." "This is an outrage," Captain Ra mey put in. "I'll fight this through every court of admiralty that?" "You will be very happy," Tonga Dick said, "not to raise your head before admiralty at all. How would you like the admiralty courts to hear what happened at Lord Randolph's Island?" "You mean to blackmail me?" Ramey screamed. Dick Wayne grinned. "You bet your life I'll blackmail you?if it's any good to me I" It was singular the way Ramey faded, after that. "I'll have you for this?this is piracy," John Colt said. "I can bring charges such as will?" (TO BE CONTINUED) y MAIN STREETS OF U. S. DOMINATE AMERICA SOMEWHERE I have read a ?tatement to the effect that the Main streets ol America are more power ful than the Broadways, TTiat is very, very true. The hard, horse sense of our Main streets dominates America. From them are recruit ed the larger proportion of our col lege students, a great proportion of our industrial and political leaders. From the Main streets are elected a trifle more than SO per cent of our representatives in congress. Progress is found on our Main streets quite as much as on our Broadways. The hitching rack and watering trough of a generation ago have given place to the automobile parking place, the gas station and the garage. The kerosene lamp has been replaced with the electric light bulb. The wash tub in the kitchen tor the family Satin-day night bath is no more. In its place is a modern bathroom. Every convenience that Broadway has known is also found on Main street. There are a larger number of automobiles per Main street homes than per Broadway homes. Yes, there is progress on Main street, but with the advance in ma terial things there has been retained that hold on cultural and spiritual things which makes the Main street perspective so different from that of Broadway. Main street gives seri ous consideration to the problems of life and of the nation. Its social life is built around the school and the church. Broadway is largely frivo lous. Its social life is that of the night spots, the bright lights and the country clubs. It is not easily brought to a serious consideration of national or governmental problems. The Main streets of America rep resent the future of the nation. They have the virtue of progress, without the frivolities and the bright lights. From them comes most of the sane thinking of the nation. m m m FARMERS' REACTION TO AID PROGRAM ON A RAILROAD TRAIN between Chicago and the West coast, I had, among others, seven farmers as fel low passengers. Four of them got on at Chicago. One was from Michi gan, one from Wisconsin and two from Illinois. One got on in Iowa and two, one from Missouri and one from Kansas, boarded the train at Kansas City. Of the seven, five were definitely opposed to government bonuses to agriculture, although four of the five were accepting government pay ments. The farmer from Wisconsin was not. He was operating a dairy farm and was bitter in his denuncia tion of the government's effort to in duce American people not to eat cheese so there might be a greater supply for England. The Wisconsin co-operatives had spent a million dollars in an advertising campaign to create an increased market for cheese. The man from Iowa expressed the views of the five opposed to govern ment payments: "Farmers are not mendicants any more than are merchants," he said. "Some farmers fail at farming be cause they are not capable farmers. Some merchants fail at storekeep ing because they are not capable merchants, but the government does not subsidize merchants because of the failures. As farmers we want a protected American market. We do not want to compete with farm ers in countries with a much lower standard of living than that at Amer ica. That protected market and new markets, through the development of the scientific application of agri culture to industry, is all we want With that we want to stand on our own feet. The government should save the more than a billion dollars a year now being paid as farm hnnnwi." The two farmer* who favored the bonus plan were equally definite in their Insistence of the necessity ot its continuance. "The farmer," said one, "is en titled to a standard of living he can not achieve without government help. It Is what I get from the gov ernment that makes it possible for me to make this trip to California, and my wife and I are entitled to such a trip." Did those seven farmers represent a cross-section of the farmers of America? I do not know. I give you the story as I received it and without comment, other than if it does represent the attitude of a majority of American fanners, the billion dollars would aid materially in financing the war. ? ? ? GOD MAY BLESS AMERICA with victory in this war if each of us does his part to assist. ? ? ? PROFITS AND PRICES IN WARTIME THERE ARE SOME THINGS that cannot be normal in war times. It is not normal for our boys to be dying on the battle fields or to be serving their country all around the globe. There are three things that should never be above normal in war times and they are: Prices, Profits and Wages. We should not ask our boys to fight and die for us and we take advantage of the conditions to increase the wealth oi those who stay at home. JU" IMPROVED UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL Sunday! chool Lesson ^ Bar HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST. D. D. Of The Moody Bible Institute of Chicago. (Released by Western Newspaper Union J Lesson for May 3 Lesson subjects and Scripture texts se lected and copyrighted by International Council of Religious Education; used by permission. THE DAY OF ACCLAIM LESSON TEXT?Mark 11:Ml; Luke 19: el-44. GOLDEN TEXT?Blessed Is he that Com eth In the name of the Lord.?Mark 11:9. The last week o( our Lord's earth ly life had come. "Normally, in fact almost universally, the last week of a man's life is of practically no significance. In many cases he is too sick to speak with any clear intelligence, and, of course, when ill, is incapable of doing any note worthy deeds. In our Lord's life, the last week was the most impor tant of all, and to it more space is given (in Scripture) than to any one whole year of Jesus' ministry" (Dr. Wilbur M. Smith). The first day of that week found our Lord riding into Jerusalem in humility, and yet in royal majesty, to present Himself as Israel's King and Messiah. We find I. The King Seeking Man's Help (Mark 11: 1-7). How surprising that the One who made and upholds all things (CoL 1: 16, 17) should have to say, "The Lord hath need of him," in sending for a humble beast of burden. Yet therein lies a marvelous truth. He has graciously so ordered the uni verse that He has need of us and of our possessions. That was true ln the days of His flesh, when He had voluntarily become poor for our sakes. In a somewhat different sense, but nonetheless precious, it | is true today. To De needed t>y anyone?to neve that which can be used?is always encouraging, but to find that the Master needs us and what we have to give, is truly inspiring. Let us learn to give as readily as the own er of the colt (w. 5, 6), and let us also learn the important lesson of unquestioning obedience taught in verse 4. "They went their way" to do what the Lord told them to do. How greaty simplified and glorified would be the lives of Christian peo ple if they would thus obey Christ. n. The King Receiving Man's Homage (Mark 11:8-11). Presenting Himself as their Mes siah, Jesus received the enthusiastic acclaim of His disciples and friends, who were probably joined by others who were drawn by the excitement. But the Pharisees did not join in (see Luke 19:39, 40) nor did the city, not even knowing who He was (Mat). 21:10, 11). So it is today: some love and praise Him, somd hate Him, others just ignore Him. Of which class are you? He gave Jerusalem and the nation a final opportunity to receive Him. It was not yet too late, but it was their last chance. Such a time comes in the life of everyone of us. They rejected Him. What do we do? But let us not forget that there were those who shouted, "Hosanna," who cast their garments down be fore Him and waved palms of vic ' tory and joy. Thank God for their ' holy enthusiasm. Pray God that we , may have a little more of it. We , have come to the place where no body shouts "Hosanna" or "Hallelu jah" except the church choir?and they do it only in carefully modu lated tones. We cheer at ball games or at a political rally, and while we surely do not want that same kind of confusion in the church, it would be quite appropriate to bring some real enthusiasm into our Christianity. Our Lord knew that it would not be long ere the multitude would be changing their cry to "Crucify Him," for He knew their sinful hearts. So in the midst of His day of acclaim we see III. The King WN)ta| Over Man's Sin (Luke 19:41-44). I ' In times of treat joy or under un usual circumstances we are prone to think only of our own pleasure or our own need. But with Christ the ? need of the souls of men was never for a moment forgotten. He might well have gone on to Bethany to rest and rejoice with His friends over His triumphal entry into Jeru | salem. This constant and tenderhearted concern which Christ had for the city which hated and eras soon to crucify Him; this remembrance of their need even in His brief hour of public acclaim, may well teach the church a much needed lesson. Many churches are prosperous, well cared for, and even popular. They are prone to rest back and ride the crest of the wave of popularity, forget ting the souls of men and women in need, many of whom live under the very shadow of the church. Shame on us for such callous indifference in the light of our Lord's agonised weeping?for such is the meaning of the word in Luke 19:41. Others may observe that their city or community is hostile to the gos pel. that men would rather crucify the Christ than receive Him. And so they are content to have their snug little spiritual retreat where they meet to comfort one another and to congratulate themselves on i their spiritual haven. Again we say, shame on us! OWMaaikr VMn Immv Ma I A New Flag la Unfurled Br that ruda brtdca that arc had tha flood. Thatr flag to April'a breeze unfurled Here once the embattled farmer* stood And fired the shot board round the world. ?Emerson "Concord Hymn." ON PATRIOT'S day this year a new flag waa unfurled to April's breeze. It was highly appropriate that this should have been done on April 19. For this banner bears the symbolic likeness of those embat tled farmers who, on another April 19 nearly 170 years ago, fired the opening shots in America's first fight for freedom. They call this new banner the Minute Man Flag and under it pres ent-day Americana are fighting an other battle for freedom?not with bullets but with bonds. For this is the flag which the United States treasury department is making available for purchase by employ ers when at least 90 per cent of their employees are participating in the payroll savings plan of buying Victory Bonds. It is also available to labor unions and other organiza tions when 90 per cent of their members are purchasing bonds through some regular and systemat ic method. Along with the flag goes a certifi cate, also adorned with the picture of the Minute Man surrounded by 13 stars (for the Thirteen Original States), and signed by Secretary Morgenthau, the state administrator and the state chairman of the de fense savings organization, to testi fy to the workers' patriotic contri bution to America's war effort. The model for the white figure on the blue field of the new flag is, at course, the statue at the Minute Man which stands on the site of tha battle of Concord. Few if any stat ues on the soil of the United States are more familiar to the average American than this one. But bow much does be know about the scalp tor who designed it and the nnrrwial circumstances under which it was made? The sculptor was Daniel Chester French, the son of a New Hamp shire judge who moved to a farm I near Concord when Daniel was IT. One day while young Daniel was harvesting turnips be suddenly yielded to an urge for creative ex pression. Picking up a large tur 1 nip, he set to work with his jack knife and carved from the glistec t ing heart of the turnip the image ' of a frog. Young French next began caimiig figures out of wood and when his father told Mary Alcott. a sister of Louisa, about the work of his tal ented son. she gave him seme clay and one of her modeling tools. From that tune on he was determined to I be a sculptor. In 1R1 the town of Concord de cided that a memorial of some sort should be erected on the site of the famous Revolutionary battle there. The sum at $1,000 was raised for this purpose and 21-year-<$d Dan French was asked to submit a de sign for the memorial. So he made a sketch for a statue and took rt to two friends of his father?Ralph Waldo Emerson and Judge Hoar? and upon their recommendation it was immediately accepted. ' Then came the job of making the plaster model?a difficult one for the inexperienced young sculptor. But, with the help of his father, he prepared a moid, dissolved what he thought was enough plaster, stood the model on its head and poured the molten plaster into it. But alas! There must have been a hole un der the minute man's hat for the plaster ran right through the mold out on to the floor. So they had to wait another day until they could get more plaster. The first model wasn't especially successful, partly due to the fact that French was working in a poorly lighted room in a business building in Boston. But he persisted at his task and in 1FT2 the second anc final model was completed. How ever, three years elapsed before th? statue was cast and unveiled at Coo | cord. By that time French had gon< to Italy to study. So he was no present for the ceremonies held a the dedication of the statue whid was destined to become one of hx best known works of art! The unveiling of the statue ?t set for April 19, 18TS. The "Apri breeze" that morning was a bitter!; cold one but more than 5.000 peopi 1 were on hand for the event. Presi dent U. S. Grant and most of th members of his cabinet had come ti Concord. There were bands am marching and speech-making Th speaker of the day was George Wil liam Curtis and he spoke for tw hours while his auditors shivered Later a wag declared that more pec pie died from exposure to the weath er that day than were killed at th battle which they were celebrating [classified DEPARTMENT SHOE PRESERVER rAKENTI:?Cut ?our (udt7 Mm* bflU I* half. Simple liquid sola wttenrtr dees It. Formula, directions ftfty cents colli. AKVOL, 9im Hertes, Cleveland, Ofcfte. Glorious Inheritance II we do our best; if w# do not magnify trifling troubles; if we look resolutely, I will not say at the bright side of things, but at things as they really are; if we avail ourselves of the manifold blessings which surround us, wa ! can not but feel that life is indeed i a glorious inheritance.?John Lub bock. Aim* u or HMMjamt I WiMK ^ msMi & m 17*1. f m ttarrn ^ oc?n' arm nmjMt ^^SEXXJUft r tk Brm> wKf 10 nur ammm our to ua of kdkdWhtwktsv C04UOCT TMT CM1 or 1me tmuiu ?mi * BCi /Mt< rttCAl AUrtMULCKT rTEvotrftor MDMMUKTY or WKTOL Tour weakness or strength as a person comes out in achon: jour weakness or strength as an intel lectual farce comes out te nteo tinrr.?John Burroughs. OVER SO7 e<uuU*uJmt? nadM jSTlSnaiwI# Jte.iaADLUIXA Mv>jj pg AratM V" COOIH^ fey iimiyi DnwMtewfts IWtaT*M?a wJ* i2I* 55^jS?j^Sl?'55 e'SmMiiknEM^ S"e*? Me 1 *li,.i.?eMeel*e.M "fcSTelS"'" SoeM^ MMo f^zr T^'^r~i?^zu?ewi >~? r >MM> gttmc ?p ?c ai^to. ? ?dlfw r Wter aoc try Dm'i NU? Ya? W ?.M ? ?-*=?? Ml ???!?* *? I NtmL7 3M?a ?cmai*? ci? f*?? 1 T**l ***,*=*?" "* *"?-*"-? , I Geta^eS'ce'MaSM | M**??iliie II |f(1^|3 |i|WT3 ll'il/'itKlJIlM ?uliMiClAUXI i ? WXU?4 IT?a | rm GOOD WILL j S Tie masuiactarer at i _ E Merck* at wio a deer- ; taaae. Makee peblac lie lect that he *uk you 0 E good will . Aed ha real U I S iaee that tie oety way K j S that he can keep II h t- j E by gtrteg good eahaa . E aadaarricaa. T I i J
The Alamance Gleaner (Graham, N.C.)
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April 30, 1942, edition 1
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