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V
of the CaANTS
Bx PETER B. KYNE
Author of "Capiqr Rick/
Copyright bx Peter B. Kyn*
WOTHERI
•K^lifomia Syrup of Pig^
Child’s Best Laxative
‘JULE8 RONDEAUl”
Synopsis.—Pioneer In the Callfor,
nta redwood region, John Cardigan,
at forty-seven, is the leading citizen
•f Sequoia, owner of mills, ships,
and many acres of timber, a wid
ower after three: years of married
life, and father of two-day-old
Bryce Cardigan. At fourteen Bryce
makes the acquaintance of Shirley
Bumnei:,a visitor at Sequoia, and
hta-jtfnlorT>5t..a few years. Together
Ifey visit the^alley of the Giants,
sacred to John Cardigan and his
son as the burial place of Bryce's
mother, and part with mutual re
gret. While Bryce is at college
' Jdhn Cardigan meets with heavy
business losses and for the first
time views the future with uncer
tainty. After graduation front csi-
l^e, and a trip abroad. Bryce Car
digan comes home. On the train he
meets Shirley Sumner, on her way
to. Sequoia to make her home there
with her uncle. Colonel Pennington.
Bryce learns that his father’s eye
sight has failed and that Colonel
Pennington is seeking to. take ad
vantage of the old man’s business
misfortunes. John Cardigan is de
spairing, but Bryce is full of fight
head. ‘Il’m
Y,” he oon-
CHAPTER V.-^-Continued.
—5—
John Cardigan shook his head,
mortgaged te the last penny,
fessed, “and Pennington has been buy
ing Cardigan Redwood Lumber com
pany first-mortgage bonds until he is
in control of the Issue. He’ll buy in
the San Hedrin timber at the fore
closure sale, and In order to get It
t»ck and save something for you out
•of the wreckage. I’ll have to make an
unprofitable trade with hl,m. I’ll have
to give him my timber adjoining his
north of Sequoia, together with my
Valley of the Giants, In return for the
San Hedrin timber, to which he’ll have
a sheriff’s deed. But the mill, all my
old employees, with their numerous
■dependents—gone, with you left land-
poor and without a dollar to pay your
tayes. Smashed—like that!’" And he
drove his fist Into the palm of his
band.
“Perhaps—but not witliout a fight,”
Bryce answered, although he knew
their plight was well-nigh hopeless.
■“Ill give that man Pennington a run
for his money, or I’ll know the reason.”
The telephone on the-table beside
blm tinkled, and he took down the
receiver and said “Hello
“Mercy!” came the sweet voice of
Shirley Sumner over the wire. “Do
50U feel as savage as all that, Mr.
Cardigan.”
For the second time in his life the
thrill that was akin to pain came to
Bryce Cardigan. He laughed. “If I
had known you were calling, Miss
Sumner,” he said, “I shouldn’t have
growled .so,”
"Well, youTe forgiven—for several
reasons, but principally for sending
me that delicious blackberry pie.
Thank you so much.”
“Glad yon liked It, Miss Sumner. I
dare to hope that 1 nwy have tlie
privilege of seeing you soon again.”
“Of course. One good pie deserves
another. Some evening next week,
when that dear old daddy of yours
can spare his boy, you might be in
terested to see our burl-redwood-
paneled dining room Uncle Seth Is so
proud of. Would Thursday night be
convenient?”
“Perfectly. Thank you a thousand
times.”
She hade him good-night. As he
turned from the telephone, his father
*i*ll Give That Man Pennington a
Run* for Hit Money.*'
looked up. “What are you going to do
to-morrow, lad?” he queried.
*1 hftve to do some thinking to
morrow,” Bryce answered. “So I’m
going up” Into Cardigan’s redwoods to
tlolt”
“The dogwoods and rhododendrons are
blooming now,” the qjd man murmured
wistfully. Bryce knew what he was
^Making of. “ITI attend to the flow-
nt Mother,” be assured Cardigan
and he added fiercely: “And I’U at
tend to the battle for Father. We
may lose, but that man Pennington
will know he’s been in a fight before
we fin
He broke off abruptly, for he had
just xemembered that he was to dine
at the Pennington house the following
Thursday—and he was not the sort of
man who smilingly breaks bread with
his enemy.
■ * • • • • • *
All about Bryce were scenes of
activity, of human endeavor, and to
him in that moment came the thought;
“My father brou.ght tfll this to pass—
and now the task of continuing it Is
mine! All those men who earn a
living In Cardigan’s mill and on Cardi
gan’s dock—those sailors whp s^l the
ships that carry Cardigan’s lumber
into the distant marts of men—are de
pendent upon me; and my father used
tojell me not to fail them. Must my
father have wrought all this in vain?
And must I stand by and see all this
go to satisfy the overwhelming ambition
a strangerf* His big hands clench
ed. “No!” he growled savagely. “Give
me your last five annual statements,
Mr. Sinclair, please.”
The old servitor brought forth the
documents In question. Bryce stuffed
them Into his pocket and left the office.
Three quarters of ah hour later he en
tered the little amphitheater In the
Valley of the Giants and paused with
an expression of dismay. One of the
giants had fallen and lay stretched
across the little clearing. In its de
scent It had demolished the little
white stone over his mother’s grave
and had driven the fragments of the
stone deep Into the earth.
The fact that the 4:ree was down,
however, was secondary to the fact
that neither wind nor lightning had
brought it low, but j-athef the intP'ous
hand of man; for the great jagged
stump showed all too plainly the
marks of cro.ss-cut saw and axe; a
pile of chips four feet deep littered the
ground.
For fully a minute Bryce stood
dumbly gazing upon the sacrilege be
fore his rage and horror found veqt in
words. “An enemy has done this
thing,” he cried aloud to the wood-
goblins. ^“And over her grave!”
It was a burl tree. At the point
where Bryce paused a- malignant
growth had developed on the trunk
of the tree, for all the world like a
tremendous wart. This was the burl,
so prized for table-tops and panelling
because of the fact that the twisted;
wavy, helter-skelter grain lends to the
wood an extraordlnarj’ beauty when
poli.shed. Bryce noted that the work
of removing this excrescence had been
accomplished very neatly. With a
cross-cut saw the growth, perhaps ten
feet In diameter, had been neatly
sliced off much as a housewife cuts
slice after slice from a loaf of bread.
He guessed that theSe slices, practi
cally circular In shape, had been rolled
out of the woods to some conveyance
waiting to receive them.
What Bryce could not understand,
however, was the stupid‘brutality. of
the raiders in felling the tree merely
for that section of hurl. By permit
ting the tree to stand and merely
building a staging up to the burl, the
latter could have been removed with
out vital injury to the tree—whereas
by destroying the tree the wretches
had evidenced all too clearly to Bryce
a wanton desire to add insult to Ip-
jury.
“Poor old Dad!” he murmured.
“I’m glad now he has been unable to
get up here and see this. It would
have broken his heart. 1*11 have this
tree made into fence posts and the
stump dynamited ^nd removed this
summer. After he is operated on abd
gets back his sight, he will come up
here—and he must never kiiow. Per
haps he will have forgotten how many
trees stood in this circle.” ^ „
He paused. Peeping out from un
der a chip among the litter at his feet
was the moldy corner of a white
envelope. In an instant Bryce had it
In his hand. The envelope was dirty
and weatherbeaten, but to a certain
extent the redwood chips under which
It had Iain hidden had served to pro
tect It, and the ^vrltlng on the face
was still legible. The envelope, was
empty and addressed to Jules Ron
deau, care of. the Laguna Grande
Lumber company. Sequoia, California.
Bryce read and reread that address.
“Rondeau!” he muttered. '•Jules
Rondeau 1 I’ve heard that name be-
fote---^tih, i of him Just
night. He’s Pennington’s woods-boss
and "
An enemy had done this thing—and
In all the world John Cardigan had
but one enemy—Colonel Seth Penning
ton. Had Pennington .sent his woods-
boss to d6 this dirty work out of
sheer spite? Hardly. The section of
burl was gone, and this argued thst
the question of splte^ad been purely
a-matter of seeopdiry consideration.
Evidently, Bryce rea.soned, someone
hod desired that burl redwood greatly,
and that someone had not been Jules
Rondeau, since a wools-boas would not'
be likely to spend five minutes of his
leisure time In consideration of the
bjMQtlea of a burl table-top or pao^
Hence, If Rondeau had superintended
the task of felling the tree, It must
have been at the behest of a superior;
and since a woods-boss acknowledges
no superior save the creator of the
pay-roll, the recipient of that stolwi
burl must have been ColoD*il/t*ennlng-
ton.
Suddenly he thrilled. If Jules Ron
deau had stolen that burl to present
It to Colonel Pennington, his employer,
then the finished article must be in
Bryce Stood Dumbly Gazing Upon the
Sacrilege.
Pennington’s home! .4nd Bryte had
been invitel to that home for dinner
the following Thur-sday by the Colonel’s
niece.
“i’ll go, after all.’^e told himself.
“I’ll ge—and I’ll see-^vwat I shall see.”
CHAPTER VI
When Shirley Sumner descended to
the breakfast room on the morning
following her arrival in Sequdia, the
first glance” at 'TTef '’'siatwy■
countenance informed Mr that during
the night something had occurred to
irritate Colonel Seth Pennington and
startle him out of his customary bland
composure.
“Shlrle.v,” he began, “did I hear.yon
calling young Cardigan on the tele
phone after dinner last night or did
my ears deceive me?”
“Your ears are all right. Uncle Seth.
I called Mr. Cardigan up to thank him
for the pie he sent over, and incident
ally to invite him over here to dinner
on Thursday nig-lit.”
“I thought I heard you asking some
body to dinner, and as you don’t know
a soul in Sequoia except young Cardi
gan. naturally I opined that he was to
be the object ef our ho-spitallty.”
“I dare say It’s quite all right to
have invited Mm, isn’t It, Un(3'e Seth?”
“Certainly, certainl.v, ray dear.
Quite all right, but, er—ah, slightly
inconvenient. T am expecting other
company Thursday night—unfortunate
ly, Brayton, the president of the Bank
of Sequoia, is coming up to dine and
discuss some business affairs with me
afterward; so If you don’t mind, my
dear, suppose you call young Cardigan
up and ask him to defer his visit until
some later date.”
“Certainly, uncle. What perfectly
marvelous roses! How did ,vou suc
ceed in growing them, Uncle Setlt?"
He smiled squrly. “I didn’t raise
them,” he replied. “That half-breed
Indian that drives John Cardigan’s
car brought them around about an
hour ago. along with a card. There
It is, beside your plate.”
She blushed ever so slightly. “I
suppose Bry(;e Cardigan is vindicating
himself,” she murmured as she with
drew the card from the envelope. As
she had surmised, it was Brj'ce Cardi
gan’s. Colonel Pennington was the
proprietor of a similar surmise.
“Fast work, Shirley,” he murmured
banterlngly. “I wonder what he’ll
send you for luncheon. Some dill
plc4Jes, probabl.v.”
She pretended to W very busy with
the roses, and not To liave heard
him.
Shirley, left alone at the breakfast-
table, picked Idly at the preserved figs
the owlish butler set before her.
Vaguely she wondered at her uncle’s
apjplfeirc"1ffOBfnrty“TiT*tte
she was as Vaguely troubled in the
knowledge that until she should succeed
In eradicating this hostility. It must
Inevitably act as a bar to tlie further
progress of her friendship with Bryce
Cardigan. And she told, herself she
did not want to lose that friendship.
She wasn’t the least bit in love with
him albeit she realized he was rather
lovable. And lastly he was a good, de
voted son and was susceptible of
development Into a congenial and
wholly acceptable comrade to a young
lady absolutely lacking In other means
of nmusemeiit.
She finished her breakfast In
tboughtM silence; then she went t»
gr
lained the rea-
e Wednesday
the telephone and called up Bryce.
He recognized her voice Instantly and
called her name befffle she had oppor
tunity to announce her identity.
“Thank you so much for the beautl-
fnl roses, Mr. Cardigan,” she began.
-*Tm glad you liked them. Nobody
picks flowers out of our garden, you
know. I used to, but I’ll be too busy
hereafter j^to bother with the garden.
By Ihe'way, Miss Sutnner, does your
uncle own a car?”
“I believe he does—a little old rat
tletrap which he drives himself.”
’'“Then I’ll send George over with
the Napier this afternoon. You might
care to take a spin put Into the sur
rounding country, the way. Miss
Sumner, you are to consider George
and that car as your personal prop
erty. I tear you’re going to find
Sequoia a dull place; s(f whenever you
wish to go for a ride, just call me up,
and I'll have George report to you.”
“But think of all the expensive gaso
line and tires!”
“Oh. but you mustn’t look at things
from that angle after you cross the
Rocky mountains on your way west.
What are you going to do this after
noon ?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought
that far ahead.”
“For some real sxwrt I would sug
gest that y-ou motor up to Laguna
Grande. That’s Spanish for Big La-
goOn, you know. Take a rod with
you. There are some land-locked sal
mon in the lagoon.
“But I haven’t any rod.”
“I'll send you over a goo1.one.”
“Rut I have nobody to teach me
bow to use’it,” she hinted daringly.
“I appreciate that compliment,” he
flashed back at her, “but unfortunate
ly my holidays are over for a long,
long time. I took niy father's place Im
the business this morning.”
“So soon?” • ^
“Yes. Things hfr^e been happening
while I was .fcwa.v. However, speak
ing of ftshinmG^rge Sea Otter will
prove an invgmblc Instructor. He Is
a goml bo,y aw you may trust him
Implicitly. OT Thursday evening
you can tell i what success you had
with the Salmon.”
i‘'Qh. that reminds- me, Mr. Cardigan.
»oW** owu’t 'TOffic'iJIlln’snny" 'Cvcflwg;
after all.” And s:
son. ‘’Suppose yo
night Instead.”"^
“We’ll call that e’h^. Thank you.”
She chuckled afi.hLs^ frank good hu
mor. “Thank you, Mr. Cardigan, for
all your kindness apd thoughtfulness;
and If you will persist In being nice
to me, you might send George Sea
*()tter and the car at- one-thirty. I’ll
be glad to avail myself of botli until
I can get a car of my own sent up
from San Fi’ancisco. Till Wednesday
night, then. Good bye.”
As Bryce Cardigan hung up, he
heaved a slight sigh. It was difficult
to get out of the habit of playing; he
found himself the possessor of a very
great desire to close down the desk,
call on Shirley Sumner, and s;>end the
remainder of the day busking in the
sunlight of lier presence.
Following his discovery of the out- i
rage committed on his father’s snnctu- ‘
ary, Bryce wasted considerable val- i
liable time and effort in a futile en- ■
deavor to gather some further hint ;
of the Identity of the vandals.; hut I
despairing at last, lie dismissed the j
matter from his mind, resolving only j
that on Thursday he would go up
into Pennington’s woods and interview ;
the redoubtable Jules Rondeau. |
Bryce’s natural Incllnatiou was to
wait upon M. Rondeau immediately.
If not sooner, but the recollection of
his dinner engagement at the Penning
ton home warned him to proceHl
pautlously; for while harboring no
apprehensions as to the outcome of a
possible clash with Rondeau, Brj’ce
Was not so optlnflstlo as to believe he
would escape unscathed from an en
counter.
• * • • * * •
Colonel Pennington’s pompous Im
ported British butler showed Bryce
Into the Pennington living room at
six-thirty, announcing him with due
ceremony. Shirley rose from the piano
where she had been Idly fingering the
keys and greetetl him with every ap-
pearahce of pleasure—following which,
she turned lo present her visitor to
Colonel Pennington, who was standing
In his favorite position with his back
to the fireplace.
“Uncle Seth, this Js Mr. Cardigan,
who was so very nice to me the day
T ^T',: .
The Colonel bowed. “I have to
thank you, sir, for your courtesy to
my niece,” He had as.sumed an air of
reserve, of distinct aloofness, despite
his studied politeness.
“Your niece, Colonel, Is one of thosi
fortunate beings the world will alway
clamor to serve.”
“Qiilte true, Mr. Cardigan. When
.she was qtilte a little girl I came un
der her spell mysblf.”
“So did 1, Colonel. Miss Sumner
has doubtless told you of our first
meeting some twelve years ago.”
"Quite so. May 1 offer you a
coch.tail, Mr. Cardigan T”
“Thank yon. certainly. Dad and 1
have been pinning one on about this
time every night since my return.”
“Shirley belongs to the Band of
Hope,” the Colonel explained, “She’s
ready at any time to break a lance
with the Demon Rum. So we will
have to drink her share, Mr. Cardigan.
Pray be seated.”
Bryce seated himself. “Well, we
lumbermen are a low lot and naturally
fond of dissipation,” he agreed. “I
fear Mis.s Sumner’s prohibition tenden
cies will be still further strengthened
after she has seen the mad-train."
“What Is that?” Shirley queried.
“The njad-traln runs over your
uncle’s logging railroad Into Township
nine, where his timber and ours is lo
cated. It is the only train operatetl
on Sunday, and it leaves Sequoia at
live p. m. to carry the Pennington and
Cardigan crews back to the woods
after their Saturilay-night celebration
in town. As a usual thing, all hands
with the exception of the brakeinan,
engineers, and liremau, are singing,
weeping or fighting drunk.”
“Do they fight, Mr. Cardigan?”
“F''requent!y. I might sa.v usually.
It’s quite an inspiring sight to sei' a
couple of lumberjacks going to it on
a flat-car traveling tlilrty miles an
hour.”
“How Imrrible!”
“Yes, Indeed. The right of way 1»
lined with empty whisky bottle.s.”
Colonel Pennington spoke up. “We
don’t have any fighting on the mad-
train any more,” he said blandly.
“Indeed! How do you prevent It?"
Bryce asked.
“My woods-boss, Jules Rondeau,
makes them keep the peace,” Penning
ton replied with a small smile. “If
there’s any fighting to be done, he does
IL”
“You mean among his own crew, of
course,” Bryce suggested.
“No, he's in charge of the mad-train,
and whether a fight starts among .vour
men or ours, he takes a hand. He’s
had them all behaving mildly for quite
a while, because he can whip any man
in the country, and everybody realizes
it. I don't know what I’d do wlUiout
Rondeau. He certainl.v makes those
bohunks of mine step lively.”
“Oh-h-h! Do you employ bohunks,
-
“Certainly. They cost less; th^'
are far less independent than most
men and more readily handled. And
you don’t have to pamper them—par
ticularly in the matter of food. Why,
Mr. Cardigaii, with all due respect ts
your fatlierj^the way he feeds his men
Is simply ndiciilous"! Cake and pis
and doughnuts at the same meal!”
“Well, Dad started in to feed hls
men the same food he fed himself.
' Accept “CaUfomla" Syrup of Flci
only—look for the name California
the package, then you are sore year
child Is having the best and most buss*
less physic for the little stomach. User
and bowels. Children love Its fmltF
taste. Full directions on each bottlik
You must say "California.”—^Adr.
Was Keeping 'Em Secret.
. ‘^ave you any secrets In yoor
pa.st?" she asked.
“None to speak of," he replied.
ASPIRIN INTRODUCED
BY “BAYER” IN 1900
Look for name “Bayer" on the tablets^
then you-need never
worry.
j If you want the true, world-famous
Aspirin, as prescribed by physicians
for over eighteen years, you most ad:
: for “Bayer Tablets of Aspirin.”
I The “Bayer Cross” is stamped oo
each tablet and appears on ^ach padc-
age for your protection against Imi
tations.
In each package of “Bayer Tablets
of Aspirin” are safe and proper dlree-
tlons for Colds, Headache. Neuralgia,
Toothache, Earache, Rheumatism.
Lumbago, Neuritis, and for Pain to
general.
Handy tin boxes containing 12 tablets
cost but a few cents. Druggists also
sell larger “Bayer” packages. Aspirin
is the trade mark of Bayer Manufac
ture of Monoacetlcacldltester of Salicy-
licacid.—A'dv. '
fl
Rather Wide.
‘The red oiemeut certainly ha.s
cheek." "Well, cheek is mo.-stly what
the red stuff goe.s on.' .
SHAKE INTO ’/OUR SHOES
Allen’s Foot = Ea8e, the antlsepttc powder ta
be shaken into the shoes and sprinkled ta
the foot-bath. The Plattsburg Camp
nal advises men in training to use Foots
Ease in their shoee each morning. It pie*
vents blisters and sore spots and relieve*
and ts*
use Allen’s Foot = EaKa^^o^^
shoes.—Adv.
Nowaday
Willis—“A satisfieii e^stop/e^ is a*
store’s best atlvertisemenf.^ —
“Old stuff! A gotnl-iooking girl clerk
!s.“—Judge.
Sure
Relief
6 Bell-ans
Hot water
Sure Relief
RELL-ANS
ai#FOR INDIGESTIOit
Kr'
PARKER'S
HAIR BALSAM
a-S top&H&irjnUIlni
Rerisres Color aad
. to Grarand Faiiadllih
soo^juid (LOO at dnerltta
m. it to. FatchoOTO. W-T.
HINDERCORNS Rodotob Oms. cm-;
lousca. eco., stopa aU pam, encoraa comlurt to tfea-
feel, makM wtJkiiiiC eatr- Uo. by Ball or at Iktaai
■Uta niMos ClbomlgJ Wesks, SL X..
“He Can
Whip Any Mait
Country.”
in tha
HONE GANNER
ldi&7 w iMking fiS.OO aad op per day, can-
nine Ftttit and Verrtables for laatkec. netcb>
bor* and borne use with a
^AVORirr* HOMC CANNn
Male becter. last longer. DO vaM^
resohs. ose« less fuel ca«y to operate.
Prices $2,30 tad up. We foroiih caai
and Write for FREE BOOKLET.
Til* Carolina Matal Prodnets
Po«t Box 19
and I suppose the habits oqe forms ta
youth are not readily changed In old
age^ Colonel.”
“But tluit makes It hard for other
manufacturers,” the Colonel prote.sted.
“I feed ray men good plain flood and
plenty of It—quite better food than
they were used to before they came ta
this country; but I cannot seem to
satisfy them. Your respected parent
Is the basis for comparison In this
country, Cardigan, and I find It devil
ish Inconvenient." He laughed Indol-
to Bryce.
“Uncle Seth always grows restlem
when some other man Is the leader,"
Shirley volunteered with a -mischie
vous glance at Pennington. “Don*!
you, Nunky-dunk?"
Take
Baths
“You know why, of course
—those burl panels in your
dining room.’’
GouL IcKna. Bvts. etc. RtgMM
yov own booM aad at triflag cotL
yea caa caJoy the beadU ol hehiM
•otpiMr Beua.
Hancock
Sulphur Compouhp
ssgiiagfttigiaafa'jfe
Sfe'sfts.’.'ssasr**’^
60c
at year dkuatfifs. H he ceet yMk
amd ha mapm ami the r’-i‘i itri-gi vT
«M«aMMyMabattl* dheet
a*NcocK UQuio auLMint
COMFAMT
(TO BE CONTINUED^
Some persons are peifaeUy Min»g ai
to killing tUne^
will