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COMPAHY.
SYNOPSIS.
Percy Darrow, a young scientist In
search of a job. enters the office of
"Boss” McCarthy of New York. Mc-
Carthy has just been threatened by an
anonymous message ordering him to flee
to Europe. He does not take the mes
sage seriously. Darrow goes up the
elevator to try for a position with Dr.
Knox. Suddenly the electric apparatus
in the Atlas building goes out of busi
ness. Experts are unable to locate the
trouble. All at once, without apparent
reason, electric connections are restored.
The next evening McCarthy is warned
that unless he leaves at once for Europe
a sign will be sent him at six. Prompt
ly at that hour the entire electric appara
tus of New York is cut off.
CHAPTER IV.
Darkness and Panic.
Probably the only men in the whole
of New York who accepted promtly
and unquestioningly the fact that the
entire electrical apparatus of the city
was paralyzed were those in the news
paper offices. These capable citizens,
accustomed to quick adaptations to
new environments and to wide reaches
of the imagination, made two or three
-experiments, and accepted the inevit
able.
Within ten minutes the Despatch
had messenger boys on tap instead of
hells, bicycles instead of telephones,
and a variety of lamps and candles in
place of electricity. Everybody else
in town was speculating why in blazes
this visitation had struck them. The
Despatch was out after news.
Marsden, city editor, detailed three
men to dig up expert opinion on why
It had all happened.
“And if the scientific men haven’t
any other notions, ask ’em if it’s any
thing to do with the earth passing
through the tail of the comet,” he told
them.
The rest of the staff he turned out
for stories of the effects. His imag
ination was struck by the contempla
tion of a modern civilized city depriv
ed of its nerve system.
After covering the usual police-sta
tion, theater and hotel assignments, he
sent Hallowell to the bridge; Long
man to the Grand Central; Kennedy,
warren ahd Thomas to the tubes, sub
ways and ferries. The others he told
to go out on the streets.
They saw a city of four million peo
ple stopped short on its way home to
dinner! They saw a city, miles in ex
tent, set back without preparation to
a communication by messenger only!
They saw a city, unprepared, blinking
its way by the inadequate illumina
tions of a half-century gone by!
Hallowell found a packed mass of
humanity at the bridge. Where ordin
arily is a crush, even with incessant
outgoing trains sucking away at the
surplus, now was a panic—a panic the
more terrible in that it was solid, sul
len, inert, motionless. Women fainted,
and stood unconscious, erect. Men
sank slowly from sight, agonized,
their faces contorted, but unheard in
the dull roar of the crowd, and were
seen no more. Around the edges peo
ple fought frantically to get out; oth
•ers, with the blind, unreasoning, home
instinct, fought as hard to get in.
The police were unavailing. They
. i
* It
SmJR J 9
“Can’t You See How We Need Each
Other?”
could not penetrate to break the cen
ter. Across the bridge streamed a
procession of bruised and battered
humanity, escaped from or cast forth
by the maelstrom. The daylight was
fading, and within the sheds men
could not see one another’s faces.
Longman at the Grand Central ob
aerved a large and curious crowd that
filled the building and packed the
streets round about They waited for
their trains, and the twilight gathered.
For ten minutes trains continued to
enter the shed. This puzzled Long
man until he remembered that gravity
would bring In those this side of Har
lem. None went out. The waiting
throng was a hotbed for rumors. Long
man collected much human-interest
fltuff, and wae quite well satisfied with
his story—until he saw what it had
meant elsewhere.
For in the subways and tubes the
stoppage of the trains had automatic
ally discontinued the suction ventila
tion. The underground thousands, in
mortal terror of the non-existent third
rail danger, groped their way painfully
to the stations. With inconceivable
swiftness the mephitic vapors gather
ed. Strong men staggered fainting
into the streets. When revived they
told dreadful tales of stumbling over
windrows of bodies there below.
Through the gathering twilight of
the streets, dusky and shadowy, flitted
bat-like the criminals of the under
world. What they saw, that they
took. Growing bolder, thef progress
ed from pocket-picking to holdups,
from holdups to looting. The police
reserves were all out; they could do
little. Favored by obscurity, the
thieves plundered. It would have
needed a solid cordon of officers to
have protected adequately the retail
district. Swiftly a guerrilla warfare
sprang up. Bullets whistled. An
archy raised its snaky locks and peer
ed red-eyed through the darkened
streets of the city.
Here and there fire broke out. Men
on bicycles brought in the alarms;
then, as twilight thickened, men on
foot. Chief Croker promptly estab
lished lookouts in all the tall towers,
as watchmen used a hundred years
ago to watch the night.
At eight o’clock, two hours after
the inception of the curious phenom
ena, the condition suddenly passed.
The intimation came to the various
parts of the city in different ways.
Strangely enough, only gradually did
the lights and transportation facilities
resume their functions. Most of the
dynamos were being inspected by
puzzled experts. Here and there the
blazing of a group of lights, the ring
ing of a bell, the’response of a volt
or ammeter to test, hinted to the mas
ters of the lightnings that their rebel
lious steeds again answered the bit.
Within a half-hour the city’s illum
ination again reflected softly from
the haze of the autumn sky; the clang
of the merry trolley, the wail of the
motor’s siren again smote the air.
Malachi McCarthy, having caught
a ride on a friendly dray, arrived home.
At eight ten his telephone bell for the
first time jangled its summons. Mc-
Carthy answered it.
“I’m Simmons, the wireless opera
tor,” the small voice told him. “Say!
There’s a lot of these fool messages in
the air again. You know what they
said last night about six o’clock, and
what happened.”
“Let’s have ’em,” growled Mc-
Carthy.
“Here she is: 'McCarthy, will you
do as I tell you? Answer. Remember
the sign at six o’clock.’ It’s signed
‘M.’”
“Where did that come from?” asked
the boss.
“Can’t tell, but somewheres a long
ways off.”
“How do you know that?”
“By the sound.”
“How far—about?”
“Might be anywhere."
“Can you get an answer back?”
“I think so. Can’t tell whether my
spark will reach that far. I can send
out a call for ‘M.’ ”
“Well, send this,” said McCarthy.
“ ‘Go to hell.’ ”
On the evening of the phenomena
afore mentioned, Pe^cy Darrow had re
turned to his apartments, where he
had dressed unusually early, and by
daylight. This was because he had
a dinner engagement up-town. It was
an informal engagement for a family
dinner at seven o’clock, but Percy had
been requested by one of the mem
bers to come at about six. This was
because the other members would pre
sumably be dressing between six and
seven.
The young man found a fire blazing
on the hearth, although the evening
was warm. A graceful girl sat look
ing into the flames. She did not rise
as the scientist entered, but held out
her hand with an air of engaging
frankness.
“Sit down,” she invited the guest.
“This is a fearful and wonderful time
to ask you to venture abroad in your
dress clothes, but I wanted to see you
most particularly before the rest of
the family comes down.”
“You are a singularly beautiful wom
an,” observed Darrow in a detached
manner, as he disposed his long form
gracefully in the opposite armchair.
The girl looked at him sharply.
“That is intended as an excuse or
explanation—not in the least as a com
pliment,” Darrow went on.
“You would not be so obiliging, if
I were not —beautiful?" shot back the
girl. “That is indeed not compli
mentary."
“I should be exactly as obliging,”
amended Darrow lazily, “but I should
not feel so generally satisfied and
pleased and rewarded in advance. I
should have more of a feeling of vir
tue, and less of one of pleasure."
THE BULLETIN. IRWINTON. GEORGIA.
”1 see,” said the girl, her brows still
level. “Then I suppose you are not
Interested in what I might ask you
as one human being to another!"
“Pardon me, Helen,” interrupted
Darrow, with unusual decision. “That
is just what I am interested in—you
as a human being, a delicious, beau
tiful, feminine, human being who could
mean half the created universe to a
lucky man.”
“But not the whole —”
"No, not the whole.” mused Dar
row, relaxing to his old indolent atti
tude. “You see," he roused himself to
explain, “I am a scientist, for in
stance. You could not be a scientist;
you have not the training."
“Nor the brains,” interposed Helen
Warford, a trifle bitterly.
“Nor the kind of brains," amended
Darrow. “I have enough of that sort
myself,” he added. He leaned fbrward,
a hunger leaping In the depths of his
brown eyes. “Helen,” he pleaded,
“can’t you see how we need each
other?"
But the girl shut both her eyes, and
shook her head vigorously.
“Unless people can be everything to
each other, they should be nothing—
people like us,” said she.
Darrow sighed and leaned back.
“I feel that way, but the devil of It
is I can’t think it," said he. Then after
a pause: “What is it you want of me,
Helen? I’m ready."
“Its Jack," said she.
“What’s the matter with Jack?”
“Everything—and nothing. He’s just
out of college. This fall he must go
to work. Father wants him to go into
an office. Jack doesn’t care much, and
will drift into the office unless some
body stops him.”
“Well?" said Darrow.
“An office will ruin him. He isn’t
in the least Interested in the things
they do in offices; and he’s too high
spirited to settle down to a grind.”
“He’s like you in spirit, Helen,” said
Darrow. “What is he interested in?”
“He’s interested in you.”
“What!” cried Darrow. “Wish it
were a family trait."
“He thinks you are wonderful, and
he knows all about all your adventures
\ I'l 3
“1 Do,” He Said, “If You’re Game.”
and voyages with Doctor Schermer
horn. He admires the way you look
and act and talk' I suspect him of
trying to imitate you.” Helen’s eyes
gleamed with amusement.
Darrow smiled his slow and languid
smile.
“The last time I saw Jack he stood
six feet and weighed about one hun
dred and eight-five pounds," he pointed
out.
“The imitation is funny," admitted
Helen, “but based on genuine admira
tion.”
“What do you want me to do with
him?" drawled Darrow.
“I thought you could take him in
with you; get him started at some
thing scientific; something that would
interest and absorb him, and some
thing that would not leave all his real
energies free for mischief."
Darrow leaned his head against the
back of the chair and laughed softly.
So long did his amusement continue
that Helen at length brought him
rather sharply to account.
“I was merely admiring." then ex
claimed Darrow, “the delicious fem
ininity of the proposal. It displays at
once such really remarkable insight
into the psychological needs of an
other human being, and such abysmal
ignorance of the demands of what we
are pleased to call science.”
“You are the most superior and ex
asperating and conceited man I
know!" cried Helen. "I am sorry I
asked you. I'd like to know what there
is so silly in my remarks!”
“Jack is physically very strong; he
is most courageous; he has a good
disposition, a gentlemah’s code, and
an eager likable nature. I gather fur
ther that he does me the honor of ad
miring me personally. He has re
ceived a general, not a special, college
education."
“Well!" challenged Helen.
“Barring the' last, these are exactly
the qualifications of a good bull-ter
rier."
“Oh!” cried the girl indignantly, and
half rising. “You are insulting!"
“No," denied Darrow. “Not that —
never to you, Helen, and you know it!
I’m merely talking sense. Leaving
aside the minor consideration that I
am myself looking for employment,
what use has a scientist for a bull-ter
rier? Jack has no aptitude for science;
he has had none of the accurate train
ing absolutely essential to science.
He probably wouldn’t be interested in
science. At the moment he happens
to admire me, and I'm mighty glad
and proud that it is so. But that
doesn’t help. If I happened to be a
saloon man. Jack would quite as
cheerfully want to be a barkeeper.
I'd do anything in the world to help
Jack; but I'm not the man. You want
to hunt up somebody that needs a
good bull-terrier. Lots do.”
"I hate such a cold-blooded way of
going at things!" cried the girl. "You
show no more interest in Jack than if
—than if —”,
Darrow smiled whimsically. "In
deed I do, Helen,” he said quietly;
“that is why I don’t want to touch his
life. Science would ruin him quicker
than an office —in the long run. What
he wants is a job of action —something
out West —or in the construction of
our great and good city. Now, if I had
a political pull, instead of a scientific
twist, I could land Jack in a minute.
Why don" you try that?”
“Father and McCarthy are enemies,”
she said simply. She arose with an
air of weariness. “How dark it's get
ting!" she said, and pressed the elec
tric button in the wall.
The light did not respond.
“That’s queer,” she remarked, and
pulled the chain that controlled the
reading light on the table. That, too,
failed to illuminate. “Something
must be wrong with those things at
the meter—what do you call them?”
“Fuses,” suggested Darrow.
“Yes, that’s it. I’ll ring and have
Blake screw In another."
Darrow was staring at a small ob
ject he had taken from his pocket. It
was the electric flash-light he habitu
ally carried to light his way up the,
three dark flights at his lodgings.
“Let me call him for you,” he sug
gested, rising.
“I'll ring," said Helen.
But Darrow was already In the ball.
“Blake!” he called down the base
ment stairway. “Bring lamps—or can
dles."
The man appeared on the word, car
rying a lamp.
“I already had this, sir," he explain
ed. “The lights went out some time
ago."
‘‘Did you look at the —fuses?" asked
Helen.
“Yes, miss.”
“Well, telephone to the electric
company at once. We must have light."
Percy Darrow had taken his place
again in the armchair by the fire.
“It is useless,” said he, quietly.
“Useless!" echoed Helen. “What
do you mean?” Blake stood quietly at
attention.
“You will find your telephone also
out of order."
Helen darted from the room, only
to return after a moment, laughing.
“You are a true wizard," she said.
“Tell me, how did you know? What
has happened?”
“A city,” stated Percy didactically,
“is like a mollusk; it depends largely
for its life and health on the arti
ficial shell it has constructed. Unless
I am very much mistaken, this par
ticular mollusk is going to get a
chance to try life without its shell.”
“I don’t understand you," said
Helen.
“You will,” said Percy Darrow.
Mr. and Mrs. Warford descended
soon after. They sat down to dinner
by the light of the table candles only.
Darrow hardly joined at all in the
talk, but sat lost in a brown study..'
from which he only roused sufficiently
to accept or refuse the dishes offered
him. At about eight o'clock the tele
phone bell clicked a single stroke,, as
though the circuit had been closed. At
the sound Darrow started, then reach
ed swiftly into his pocket for his little
flash-light. He gravely pressed the
button of this; then abruptly rose.
“I must use your telephone,” said
he, without apology.
He was gone barely a minute; then
returned to the table with a clouded
brow. Almost immediately after the
company had risen from the board, he
excused himself and left.
After he had assumed his coat, how
ever, he returned for a final word
with Helen. /
“Where is Jack this evening?" he
asked.
“Dining out with friends. Why?"
“Will you see him tonight?"
“I can if necessary."
“Do Tell him to come down to my
room as near eight o’clock tomorrow
morning as he can. I’ve changed my
mind.”
“Oh!" cried Helen joyously. “Then
you've concluded I’m right; after all?”
“No,” said Darrow; “but if this thing
carries out to its logical conclusion.
CALLED LOW CLASS OF ART
Sweeping Indictment of Music to
Which Song “Home, Sweet Home”
Has Been Set.
Though the oldest piece of English
music in existence, “Summer is icu
men in” is quite modern in compari
son with a score of the “Orestes" of
Euripides, dating from the fourth cen
tury B. C.. which was exhibited at the
international exhibition of music at
Vienna some years ago. Even more
ancient is the chant "The Blessing of
the Priest.” which was sung in the
temple of Jerusalem before the captiv
ity, and is still in use in the Jewish
synagogues in Spain and Portugal.
"Home, Sweet Home"—the song of a
homeless American —once moved Rob
ert Louis Stevenson to an outburst of
passionate protest. But it was the
music rather than the words that
roused his indignation. You will find
the passage in "Across the Plains”:
I have no idea whether musically this
air is to be considered good or bad;
but it belongs to that class of art
which may best be described as a bru
tal assault upon the feelings. Pathos
must be relieved by dignity of treat
ment, declared an English writer. If j
I'm going te fitted • good bnll-terrlei
pup!”
CHAPTER V.
A Scientist in Pink Silk.
The next morning promptly at eight
o’clock Jack Warford, in response to
a muttered invitation, burst excitedly
into Percy Darrow’s room. He found
the. scientist, draped in a pale-pink
silk kimono embroidered with light
blue butterflies, scraping methodically
it his face with a safety-razor. At the
sight the young fellow came to an
abrupt stop, as though some one bad
met him with a dash of cold water in
the face.
“Hello!” said he, in a constrained
voice. “Just up?"
Darrow cast a glance through his
long silky lashes at the newcomer.
“Yes, my amiable young canine, just
up.”
Jack looked somewhat puzzled at
the appellation, but seated himself.
“Helen said you wanted to see me “
he suggested.
Darrow leisurely cleaned the com
ponent parts of his safety-razor, wash
ed and anointed his face, and turned
“I do,” said he, “if you’re game.”
“Os course I’m game!" cried the boy
indignantly.
Darrow surveyed his fresh, young,
eager face and the trim taut bulk of
him with dispassionate eyes.
“Are you?” he remarked simply.
“Possibly. But you’re not the man to
be sure of it.”
"I didn’t mean it as bragging,” cried
Jack, flushing.
“Surely not.” drawled Darrow,
stretching out his long legs. “But no
man can tell whether or not he’s game
until he’s tried out. That’s no reflec
tion on him, either. I remember once
I went through seeing my best friend
murdered; being shot at a dozen time#
myself as I climbed a cliff; seeing a
pirate ship destroyed with all on board,
apparently by the hand of Providence;
escaping from a big volcanic bust-up
into a cave, and having the cave en
trance drop down shut behind me. 1
was as cool as a cucumber all through
it. I remember congratulating my
self that, anyhow, I was going to die
game.”
“By Jove!" murmured Jack War
ford, staring at him fascinated. Evi
dently, the super-beautiful garment
had been forgotten.
“Then a war-ship's crew rescued
me; and I broke down completely
and acted like a silly ass. I wasn’t
game at all; I'd just managed to post
pone finding it out for a while.”
“It was just the reaction!" cried
Jack.
“Well, if that sort of reaction hap
pens along before the trouble is all
over, it looks uncommonly like loss of
nerve,” Percy Darrow pointed cut
“No man knows whether or not he's
game,” he repeated. “However," he
smiled whimsically, “I imagine you’re
likely to postpone your reactions as
well as the next.”
“What’s up? What do you want me
to do?”
“Stick by me; obey orders,” said
Darrow.
“What’s up?”
“Did you notice anything in the pa
pers this morning?”
“They’re full of this electrical fail
ure last night. Haven’t you seen
them?”
"Not yet. White I dress, tell me
what they say.”
“The worst was in the tubes--’’
Warford began, but Darrow interrupt
ed him.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Pretty Problem.
Saint Gingolph, which is on the
borders of Lake Geneva, is the cause
of a pretty little international prob
lem. One part is in French and the
other in Swiss territory, and acer
tain area is owned in common. Since
1600 this communal land has been
the subject of dispute, and pourpar
lers were begun in ISSI. These have
not yet been finished, bet both the
French and Swiss government are
now taking steps to arrive at some
definite understanding. A local pe
culiarity is that while the French in
habitants cross the Swiss frontier to
go to church, the Swiss residents pro
ceed into French territory to wor
ship.
' you wallow naked in the pathetic, like
the author of "Home, Sweet Home.'
you make your hearers weep in an un
manly fashion, and even yet while
they are moved they, despise them
selves and hate the occasion cf their
weakness.
Decorates Abandoned Home.
Returning after a day’s work as
baggagemaster on a New Haven
train, a citizen of Winsted. Conn.,
found a bare home, with only his bed
in it. His wife, children, and house
hold goods were gone.
After tearing that his wife had rent
ed apartments elsewhere he proceeded
to celebrate. He bought firearms »ud
flags, and red. white, and blue bunt
ing. His neighbors were aroused dur
ing the nibht by reports of pistols,
and when day broke they saw the
house decorated in the national col
ors. He explained he was celebrating
his wife’s retreat.
Quick Composition.
Bishop Heber, while on a visit to
his father-in-law. Dean Stanley, wrote
"From Greenland's Icy Mountains," in
fifteen minutes, making only one cor
rection, the change of "savage” tsa
"heathens'' in the secoxsd vers*.
For Domestic Animals.
Horses, cattle and sheep are liable
to sores, sprains, galls, calks, kicks,
bruises and cuts, and Hanford's Bab
sam of Myrrh is the standard remedy
for such cases. When you consider
how valuable your stock is, having the
Balsam always on hand for them is a
cheap form of insurance. Adv.
Easily Pleased.
"Mrs. Brown has the kleptomania.”
"Indeed; what is she taking for it?”
“Anything that looks good to her.”
For crushed finger thoroughly apply
Hanford's Balsam. Adv.
A soft answer doesn’t turn away
the young man who is in love.
4
Hanford's Balsam should relieve
even the worst burns. Adv.
“Look out for paint”—before falling
in love with a beautiful complexion.
Hanford’s Balsam has cured many
cases of running sores of many years*
standing. Adv.
Heard at Long Range.
Uppson—You have a new baby at
your house, I hear.
Downing—Great guns! And we live
four miles apart! I had no idea any
one could hear him that distance! —
London Tit-Bits.
DISFIGURED WITH PIMPLES
R. F. D. No. 2, Box 46, Matthews,
Ga. —“For three years or more I was
troubled with pimples and blackheads
At first my face would itch and burn
and then the pimples would break out.
They looked almost as if I had meas
les, causing great disfigurement. They
would make my face very red and
sore. Then they festered and came to
a head and large boilfl would come on
my chin and nose.
“I also had dandruff which caused
my scalp to itch and burn. It itched
and burned so that I had to scratch it
until it was irritated. The dandruff
scaled off and showed plainly in my
hair. It also caused my hair to
break off and become very thin. I
used several remedies which did not
cure and gave but little relief. After
I received a free sample of Cuticura
Soap and Ointment I began using
them according to directions. I se
cured two cakes of Cuticura Soap and
two boxes of Cuticura Ointment, which
cured me perfectly.” (Signed) Misa
Willie M. Walker, July 31, 1912.
Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold
throughout the world. Sample of each
free,with 32-p. Skin Book. Address post
card “Cuticura, Dept. L, Boston.” —Adv.
Honeymoon Over.
Wife (pouting) —You have ceased to
love.
Hub (enjoying cigar and newspa
per) —No. my dear; I've only ceased
making love to you.
Hint to Husbands.
Knicker —Is Smith an optimist?
Bocker —Yes: as soon as the tariff
bill was signed he cut his wife’s al
lowance because the cost of living is
coming down. —New York Sun.
The Nuisance.
“So you are complaining of the
trespass on your property. Did your
neighbor's building abut on your
ground?”
"No; but his goat did.”
Insulted.
"Why didn't you go to work for
him?" ’
"He insulted me.”
“How?”
"I asked him for a situation and
he offered me a job."
A Reasonable Fear.
"So you are going down for a visit
to the Jobbinses. They will treat you
like a member of the family."
"But I do hope they won't feed me
like one."
A Shrewd Dodge.
"This new murderer is a foxy one.”
"How so?”
"Declares he's perfectly sane. Now.
of course, everybody will have to go
to work and prove he's insane.”
FULLY NOURISHED
Grape-Nuts a Perfectly Balanced Food.
No chemist’s analysis of Grape-Nuts
can begin to show the real value of
the food —the practical value as shown
by personal experience.
It is a food that is perfectly bal
anced. supplies the needed elements
for both brain and body in all stages
of life from the infant, through the
strenuous times of active middle life,
and is a comfort and support in old
age.
"For two years I have used Grape-
Nuts with milk and a little cream, for
breakfast. I am comfortably hungry
for my dinner at noon.
“I use little meat, plenty of vege
tables and fruit, in season, for the
noon meal, and if tired at tea time,
take Grape-Nuts alone and feel per
fectly nourished.
“Nerve and brain power and mem
ory are much improved since using
Grape-Nuts. I am over sixty and weigh
155 lbs. My son and husband seeing
how I had improved are now using
Grape-Nuts.
“My son, who is a traveling man.
eats nothing for breakfast but‘Grape-
Nuts and a glass of milk. An aunt,
over 70, seems fully nourished on
Grape-Nuts and cream.” “There’s a
Reason.”
Name given by Postum Co., Battle
Creek, Mich. Read "The Road .to
Wellvllle,” in pkgs.
Ever read the above letter? A new
one iippeara from time to time. They
nre Kenulne, true, and full of humu
interest.
