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Wie Lamp ™
BY ARTHUR STRINGER JL W. N. U. Service d ,
THE STORY SO FAR
Sidney Lander rescued Carol Cobum
from the annoyances of Eric (the Red)
Erlcson. She Is returning to her native
Alaska to teach. Her father, a sourdough,
died with an unproven mine claim. Lander,
an engineer for the Trumbull Co., which is
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m all right,” I told him. And
1 attempted to prove it by going out
and bringing in the mud-smeared
and forgotten blackboard.
He stood watching me as I wiped
the mud, and then what was un
mistakably a bloodstain, from that
ignobly acquired symbol of author
ity. Then, still without speaking,
we stood rather foolishly looking
into each other’s eyes.
“This won’t happen again,” he
said with a steely sort of quietness.
He glanced down at his bruised
knuckles. “You know, of course,
■what that rabble-rouser wants to
do? He wants to throw a scare into
you, to frighten you out of your job,
to make this valley intolerable.”
“Why should he?” I asked.
“I think,” answered Lander, “it’s
because he has Trumbull behind
him. There’s more than one way,
remember, of fighting a mine
claim.”
A ghostly voice was telling me
that it would be sweet to lean
against a wide shoulder like that,
whatever the outcome, until life lost
a little of its uncertainty.
A car horn sounded outside the
shack. The door opened, and we
stared at the rough and mannish
figure of Katie O’Connell.
“You’re the bozo I want,” was her
grim-noted announcement. “We’ve
got to get action here or there’ll be
hell to pay. There’s three clear
cases of measles in that tent col
ony, and about two hundred kids
who’ve been exposed to it. Colonel
Hart’s gone over for the Anchorage
doctor, but that doesn’t solve our
problem.”
“What is it you want?” asked
Lander.
"I want Doctor Ruddock here,”
said Katie’s prompt proclamation.
“And inside of twenty-four hours
I’ve got to have a hospital of some
kind.”
"Then you’ll get it,” Lander said
with reassuring curtness. “We’ve
got the material and we’ve got two
hundred workers.”
“What workers?” challenged Ka
tie. “Those bindle stiffs in the CCC
camp have just told me they’re
walking out. They say they’re on
strike. And the building-gangs claim
they have orders to stick to houses.”
“To hell with orders,” barked
Lander, “at a time like this. I say
you’ll get that hospital. And you’ll
get it, lady, before I take these
bools off.”
CHAPTER XVI
Action is eloquence, as Shake
speare once said.
Lander didn’t fail the valley in
its time of need. And Katie got her
hospital.
All she got was a board shed in
terlined with plywood and roofed
with tar paper, a bald-looking build
ing with square windows and a row
of army cots along one wall. But
it was shelter for Katie’s patients.
It didn’t come easy. When Lan
der put his pride in his pocket and
talked to the transient workers he
got nothing but jeers. For Eric the
lied, obviously, had been working
on them. They declared they were
already imposed on and underpaid.
But Lander didn’t give up. He
hurriedly canvassed the colony tents
a d unearthed three men who had
0 e done carpenter work. Then he
v ent after the old-timers. He got
1 ms Wiebel. Then he got Soek
-1 ye, and the quick-handed father of
< i ie Eckstrom, and a stalwart ex
c ibinetmaker who knew the mcan
j g of edged tools. The acid-spirited
I am Bryson, it’s true, flatly refused
t i come to our help. But Salaria
j ,st as flatly defied all paternal in
-3 .actions and joined up with the
group.
Then the dirt began to fly. Half
an hour after the site and size of
1 he building had been decided the
pillars were bedded and the sills
laid. While I helped to lug two-by
fours from the track side lumber
piles the wide-shouldered Salaria
strode back and forth with twelve
foot boards on her back. She glo
ried in dumping her gigantic loads
at the feet of the busy Lander. And
almost as fast as we could carry the
allotted timbers they were caught
up and measured and shaped while
the sound of hammer and saw filled
the valley.
Northern nights, at this time of
the year, are not long. But, when
darkness came on, fires were light
ed and lanterns were swung above
the busy workers. They neither
grumbled nor rested.
It wasn’t until the sun began to
show over the peaks of the Talkcet
nas that Katie and I took time off
to serve them with coffee and hard
tack. But by then the floor had been
laid and the walls were up and the
roof was ready and waiting for its
covering of tarpaper.
By noon the roof was finished and
Katie’s brand-new Red Cross flag
was flying from its peak. Then the
windows were screened, and the
drugs and dressings and towels and
instruments and enamelware were
carried in from the emergency tent.
•Everything looked so shipshape that
fighting the Coburn claim, breaks with
Trumbull. But he remains engaged to
Trumbull's daughter, Barbara,
Lander becomes field manager for the
Matanuska Valley project.
Carol and he both are enthusiastic about
INSTALLMENT XIII
Katie hurriedly donned a uniform,
as brand new as her Red Cross flag,
and gave instructions for the carry
ing in of the sick children. There
were seven of them by this time.
And just as the last of them was
being tucked into bed Doctor Rud
dock appeared in our midst and
promptly announced that from that
day forward he was to be recog
nized as the official man-of-medi
cine for the valley project.
I could see the glow that came
into Katie’s Celtic eye as she caught
the significance of that announce
ment.
“That’s great,” she said, with a
quaver in her voice. He inspected
the building and lamented the ab
sence of running water and laughed
at the electric sterilizer, which
couldn’t be used, of course, until
the completion of the Project’s gen
erating plant.
“They’re throwing money away
on the wrong things,” he said, aft
er a quick appraisal of the sup
plies.
And that seemed confirmed, two
days later, when a motor ambu
lance was unloaded from a flat car,
a highly varnished and urban-look
ing ambulance designed for the use
of the new Red Cross nurse. But
Katie promptly cottoned to that ve
hicle, which because of its sable
paint scheme, she christened “Black
Maria.”
But Katie soon had other things to
think of. Two cases of scarlet fe
ver developed in our little tent city.
— — ——-■
.. S
“That’s great,” Katie said.
And that stirred her Ruddy into
still more frantic action. He bun
dled his nurse off to an isolation
tent in a clearing at the edge of
the Wiebel farm and commanded
her to carry on as best she could.
“This is like stamping out a prai
rie fire,” he announced. “We’ve got
to check it before it starts.”
Katie went without a murmur. I
think she would have gone to the
north pole if her abstracted man-of
medicine had ordered it. He boiled
with indignation at the carelessness
of the colony mothers. One neglect
ed child, in spite of his warnings,
developed pneumonia. And that
brought a hurry call to me.
“We’ve got to have help here,” he
said when I confronted him in his
crowded little tent office. “And as
I’m stopping all public assemblage,
your schoolwork peters out and
leaves you free.”
So I was not only a day-nurse
and scrubwoman and deputy-mar
shal but also a human laundry and
a stove-stoker and milk-distributor
and oiler of desquamating little bod
ies. I took temperatures and
changed sheets and doled out a gal
lon of cathartics. I kept the shed
warm at night and the sunny side
screened by day. I patted soda so
lutions on itchy little torsos and
swabbed out spotted little mouths
and baked sheets and played check
ers with the convalescents and
shooed overinquisitive urchins away
from the door and went to bed so
dog-tired that seven hours’ sleep
seemed nothing more than seven
ticks of my alarm clock.
But behind my back, all the while,
life was going on as life has the
habit of doing.
For the colony wasn’t without a
valor all its own. Every mass mi
gration, I felt, must have had its
casual mishaps and touches of
misery.
The misfits might rail at Ruddy
and his health rules and the mal
contents might squat about the Com
missary porch and orate at the bu
reaucrats who were turning Mata
nuska into something worse than
Soviet Russia But the real home
seekers were already out on their
plots getting a bit of land ready
for belated seeding or lending a
hand at building shelter for their
belated stock. They were the hope
of the Project.
And among the women, I found,
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY. GEORGIA
the future of the new colony.
Eric, the Red, and a gang of worker*
bring Carol a blackboard and becomes In
sulting. She faces them with a pistol. Lan
der arrives and knocks Eric out.
Once more Lander had been her protector.
there was the same division be
tween the misery-mongers and the
homemakers. While the triple
chinned Betsy Sebeck sat on a chop
ping-block and railed at the Com
missary for ladling out coffee that
wasn’t dated and butter that smelt
cheesy, a more energetic group of
housewives were down at the salmon
stream, with pitchforks, ladling out
half a ton of fresh fish, where the
water was almost solid with red
meated bodies, which were prompt
ly dressed and salted, or processed
and canned and stowed away
against a rainy day. Some of them,
I noticed, had already planted sweet
peas along the black-earthed ter
races in front of their still unfinished
houses.
They made my own humble wicky
up, when Ruddy’s prairie fire was
finally stamped out and I moved
back to my home on the Jansen
clearing, seem a very small and
antiquated affair. The quietness op
pressed me.
I was glad when Katie dropped in.
But her spirits, for once, seemed
anything but light and airy.
“What’s on your mind?” I de
manded.
“A couple of snapshots,” was Ka
tie’s rather cryptic answer.
“Snapshots of what?” I asked.
“Of a snip of a surgical nurse
down in that Seattle hospital,” the
gloomy-eyed Katie replied. “Rud
dy just showed ’em to me. He
seems to think she’s the last word
in womanhood.”
Life, I felt when Katie went on
her way again, was a dolorously
muddled-up affair.
It didn’t make a good beginning
for my first night back in the wicky
up. And, a little later, it was
crowned by a still unpleasant
thing.
For most unmistakably, on that
first midnight of my new loneliness,
somebody came to my cabin and
tried to force the door open.
I wasn’t sure just how much pres
sure my crossbar would stand. So
I groped about in the darkness, aft
er slipping out of my bunk, and
made a search for Sock-Eye’s re
volver.
1 waited, with the big six-gun in
my hand, until the sounds began
again. Then I deliberately fired a
shot at the wall, as a gentle remind
er of what that would-be intruder
might expect.
The warning, apparently, wasn’t
wasted. For nothing but silence,
after that awful roar of sound, came
to my ears.
But, even though I took Sock-Eye’s
six-gun to bed with me, it was a long
time before I could go to sleep.
CHAPTER XVII
Long before this colony was
thought of there was a small school
at Matanuska Village. It was housed
in what had once been a wooden
fronted trading post. Its floors had
heaved with the frosts of many a
long winter, its walls had sagged,
and its roof leaked like a sieve. Sam
Bryson, its owner, soured by his
removal as district superintendent,
refused to lift a hand in repairing
the old wreck. The CCC workers
were equally recalcitrant. So Lan
der marshaled a corps of volun
teers and tackled the job. The un
dulating floor was made level once
more; the side walls were patched
and straightened; two new windows
were put in, and the roof was made
waterproof. They also built a dou
ble row of rough little desks and
replaced the rusty old drum stove
with a new and shining air-tight
heater, to say nothing of four equal
ly bright and shining gas lamps.
The Project officials may have
been short on labor but they proved
prodigal enough with supplies. For
they promptly shipped in six gross
of blackboard wipers and a half
truckload of chalk boxes and enough
paper and pencils to run a state
university. They also, ironically
enough, sent a nickel and enamel
water-cooler and an electric fan,
both of them, of course, quite use
less. But all shipments of textbooks
must have fallen by the wayside.
STary, openly defying her acidu
lous old dad, helped me sandpaper
the rough little chair desks and
sweep up shavings and brighten the
windows with chintz.
When I asked STary, as we worked
there side by side, if it wouldn’t be
easier to pursue her studies in such
surroundings, she startled me by the
vigor of her revolt.
“Me plant my carcass in one o’
them kid seats?” she indignantly de
manded. “Me squat here and do
sums with a bunch of undersized
cheechakos who ain’t able t’ wipe
their own noses? Not me.”
She was conscious of my frown of
disapproval as I watched those full
and rose-red lips framing language
so unsuited to the seeker of culture.
“Pop’s been wonderin’,” she ob
served with a new meekness in her
smoldering eyes, “if you couldn’t
come and teach me private. And
once I got t’ handlin’ a pen as easy
as I handle a rifle, he allows, I’d
be ready t’ go outside and have a
winter in the States.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
'"""""'IMPROVED
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
SUNDAY I
chool Lesson
Bv HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST, D. D. j
bean of The Moody Bible InsUtute
of Chicago.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Lesson for June 22
Lesson subjects and Scripture texts se
lected and copyrighted by International
Council of Religious Education; used by
permission.
FIRST JERUSALEM CONFER
ENCE ON WORLD MISSIONS
LESSON TEXT—Acts 15:6-21.
GOLDEN TEXT—But we believe that
through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ
we shall be saved, even as they.—Acts 13:11.
The conference on missions in
Jerusalem was not the result of an
appeal to a ruling church organiza
tion for a decision, but rather a gath
ering of the beievers from Antioch
with those in Jerusalem to confer
regarding a serious difference of
opinion. The earliest converts to
Christianity were Jews, who had
come by the way of Judaism into
their new faith in Christ. But now,
through the preaching of Paul and
Barnabas, certain Gentiles had be
lieved In Christ. Their new-found
joy was soon beclouded by a theo
logical problem. Certain teachers
from Judea (Acts 15:1) declared
that the Gentiles were not saved un
less they came into the Christian
faith the way of the fullfillment of the
Jewish law. Paul and Barnabas at
once realized that this was
I. The Vital Question—ls Salva*
tion by Grace or Works? (vv. 7-11;
see also vv. 1-5).
Paul and his fellow workers had
rightly apprehended God’s plan of
salvation apart from works of the
law. Paul realized that the entire
future of the gospel ministry was in
a sense dependent on the solution of
this problem. Christianity is the
only religious faith in the world that
presents justification by grace as the
way of redemption; all others follow
(more or less) the path of salvation
by works.
The question now was: Shall
works of the law be mingled with
grace—can Jesus Christ alone save
men, or is salvation through Jesus
Christ plus something else?
How was such a serious question
to be settled? Should argument and
strife be permitted to go on until the
stronger party prevailed? Better
judgment indicated the desirability
of a friendly discussion and a joint
decision with the believers at Jeru
salem. This was
11. The Christian Solution—Coun
cil Rather Than Controversy (vv. 6,
7, 12-18).
There may be times when it be
comes the duty of the Christian
worker to take an uncompromising
stand for the truth of God and refuse
to be moved, come what may. But
certainly there should be no such
spirit in dealing with differing in
terpretations of Scripture on the part
of sincere and earnest Christian
brethren. How much would be
gained in the Church today if, in
stead of magnifying differences and
permitting personal desires and am
bitions to intervene, men were will
ing to sit down in the spirit of Christ
around the tables of Christian coun
cil and brotherhood, presided over
and directed by the Holy Spirit (see
Acts 15:28).
Observe the full measure of lib
erty in discussion, the attentive
listening to the messages of the
brethren. Note also that there were
no secret sessions of a “steering
committee” and no “steamroller”
tactics.
The whole question was honestly
and carefully considered by the
council at Jerusalem, with the result
that there was a vindication of the
preachers of God’s grace.
James finally spoke, giving the
conclusion to which the Holy Spirit
had led the conference (see v. 28).
Here for all the future we have
111. The God-Given Answer—Sal
vation Is by Grace (vv. 19-21; see
also vv. 22-35),
In his epistle to the Ephesians
(Eph. 2:8, 9), Paul succinctly states
this truth: “By grace are ye saved
through faith; and that not of your
selves: it is the gift of God: not
of works, lest any man should
boast.” The teaching of Scripture
is very plain on this point, and we
do well to receive it in all its beauty
and grace.
Let us observe, however, that the
decision in Jerusalem, while it laid
no further burden on these Gentile
believers (v. 28), did quite properly
require of them that, as those who
had been saved by grace, they must
"walk in newness of life” (Rom.
6:4) which they had in Christ. Paul
had the same thought in mind when
he supplemented Ephesians 2:8 and
9 with verse 10, declaring that God
has ordained that we should walk
‘in good works.”
There are two opposite tendencies
(both of which are wrong) in this
matter, which consistently hurt the
Christian church. The one which we
have already stressed tries to mix
works with grace, making salvation
either entirely or partially by works.
Sad to say, some who have sought
to avoid this error have gone to the
opposite extreme and have done vio
lence to God’s plan of salvation by
making grace an excuse for sin,
using their freedom from law as a
justification of lawlessness. We are
God’s “workmanship, created in
Christ Jesus unto good works” (Eph.
2:10).
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@ A General Quiz
The Questions
1. Who was the first President
of the United States to be born
under the American flag?
2. In olden times, what did a
ballista do, dance, hurl missiles or
row boats?
3. How many rivers in Europe
are named Aa?
4. The king of what country
commanded an army in the field
during the World war?
5. What century usually is called
the beginning of the Renaissance?
The Answers
1. Martin Van Buren (Decem
ber 5, 1782).
2. Hurl missiles.
3. More than 40, the most im
portant ones being in France,
Switzerland, Germany, Latvia and
Russia.
4. Belgium (Albert I),
5. The Fourteenth century.
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Jealousy spreads the bed with
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Great joys, like great griefs, arl
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