Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

THE MARKED MAN #2 A Romance of the Great Lakes 4 L By Karl W. Detzer R THE STORY From his French-Canadian mother, Norman Erickson inherits a distaste for life on the water, which is beyond the understand ing of his father, Gustaf, veteran deep-water sailor. At Mrs. Er ickson's death Gustaf determines to make Norman, who has been working for a grocer, his partner in his fishing boat, at once. In rebellious mood, Normn& seeks comfort from Julie chaud, French-Canadian playmate of his school days. Gustaf, going to the aid of a drowning friend is crip nled. After months, Gustaf is in & measure able to resume his oc cupation, Ed Baker, young fisher man, Norman’'s lifelong enemy, fans ill' feeling between father and son, and Norman determines to seek employment in the light house service. Before he has ac cepted, Norman refuses to accom pany his father on a fishing trip, during a flerce storm, CHAPTER ll—Continued . —t “Out of Madrid Bay,” he answered, “fished a little with my dad.” “Madrid Bay, eh? Well, there’s good sailors out o’ that port. Madrid Bay fishermen’s the best on the lakes.” “Where do 1 come in?” Steve Sut ton demanded. Norman looked at him appraisingly. He did not know exactly what to make of this man Sutton. He seemed sulky to Norman. Before her father could answer, Sue spoke. “I know two or three men from Ma drid,” she said, and looked at Norman critically, as if she were comparing him with them. Norman flushed. His feelings still were sore from his father’s berating. Time enough to tell them of the man ner in which he left Madrid Bay. ... “Where'd you sail,” the captain in sisted, “’sides out of Madrid?” “Nowheres,” Norman admitted. He felt that he was not telling the whole gruth. His father would have denled that he ever sailed out of Madrid. “Nowheres.” he repeated. “] fished in my father’s boat. I only fished a few weeks. Don’t care for fishing.” A recollection of Madrid Bay flashed across his mind. Of a dozen fisher men who listened no doubt to his fa ther’s story after he left. He knew that before this, to anyone who would heed, Gustaf had accused him of be ing afraid. Once more across his memory passed that whole scene this morning. It couldn’t have been just this morning when he drove Ed Baker from his father’s shanty, only to be driven himself a few minutes later, B 4 Baker . . . the gosslp . . . he wished he had fought Ed Baker this morning. That would have been one pleasant memory of Madrid Bay. Sue arose severely and adjusted the wick of the lamp. The two men looked at Norman. There was surprise in the expressions of both, not hostility, only surprise. He had never sailed. “My father 18 Gustat Erickson,” Norman added. “He was a sailor.” Steve Sutton shruggéd. Captain Stocking let a disturbed “Well, well!” escape him at length. Then he shook his head as if the matter were much too deep for his after-supper mind, and darted toward the window. “Wasn't that a boat?” he asked. “Boat?” Sutton answered. “There's a bad sea still runnin’. Nobody with sense would come pokin' down here in a boat tonight. . . .” “l ean Imagine a few persons with sense doing so,” Susan said promptly, There was an edge to her volce, “Girls sometimes enjoy having call ers.” She went toward the door, Samuel Stocking looked after her suspiciously. “This time o' evenin'?” he asked. He yawned, stretched hls arms above his head and came away from the window. “It's nine o'clock,” he sald. “That wasn't no boat. Sue was just hopin' 1t was” Sutton rose and took the keeper's place at the window. He had become nervous suddenly. Captain Stocking spoke of golng to bed. “You better take first watch to night,” be bade Norman. “Won't any thing happen. Stir me out at elght bells.” He paused, observing that Nor man looked puzzled. “Don't know the bells? Well, well . . . Steve, what you think of this? Here's a young man alp't sure of the bells! Well, couldn't expect much else, growin' up on land. It's all right, I'll teach you. Eight bells is midnight. So's four o'clock, and eight tomorrow morning. Clock rings ‘em every half-bour, Twelve-thirty starts it. That's one bell . . . every balf-hour up to four o'clock, then begin all over, Well, well, you got lots to learn around bere.” He was unfastening his shoes, “Bless my soul, that was a boat!" Volces sounded In the corridor. The door opened. Norman feit a chilliness at the roots of his balr, felt hot sud. denly, felt angry, felt beaten and ashamed. Grioning at him, by the side of Sue Stocking, who looked just a 8 disturbingly sure of herself as ever, stood Fid Baker, bearer of tales from Madrid Bay. CHAPTER 111 Coward! Norman stared incredulously at Ba ker's robustious presence. There was something threatening in his assur ance, in his -smiling face. Like an emissary out of the past he came to harass Gustaf Erickson’s son whose sinyle desire was to forget the past. Baker spoke first. “It's you, Is it?” He showed no surprise. “You're the new assistant? Sue didn’t tell be that! Your old man's kind of broke up, you runnin’ away from him. , . .” “What's that?” Captain Stocking demanded. “What's that you say? Run away?” he repeated. . Balker laughed. “You figger on hold ing on to this boy?” he asked Captain Stocking. “Aye. Assistant keeper. And what about 1t?” Baker lighted a cigarette. *“This is Gustaf Erickson’s gon,” he said. He addressed Captain Stocking. *“Gus taf's a fisherman down at Madrid. His boy run out on him early this morning. The old man nigh had a stroke. “Gustaf’s been sick,” he ex plained. *“He asked this deep-divin’ mariner to take him out to the banks today., He needed to lift his nets. The boy wouldn't go. His old man’s all broke up tonight. Says this fel low’s always been a cargo of trouble. Always been scart o’ the water. . . .” “Well, well, well!” Capr*ain Stock- Ing murmured. : . “Baker, you're a liar! And a thief! AR 0 “Here, here!” Stocking interrupted. “None ¢' such talk gces aboard my light.” Baker laughed again, His eyes glowed unpleasantly. Sue Stocking, who had been listening in silence, glanced from him to the new assist ant keeper. Norman's pale blue eyes were filled with anger but she saw no fear in them. “Let’'s get this straight,” she said. “If this boy’s not going to fit we'd better know it now. What's this about always being afraid of water?” “Nothing!” Norman again spoke sharply. “My father . « . was un reasonable. Goiag out in that storm would have killed him today. No one went out!” His volce raised. “You didn’t go out!” he challenged Baker. “] didn’t bave any oets set,” the other answered lightly. “And it’s not me that’s calling you scared. All I'm tellin’ these folks is what your old man says. Ee ought to know. He says you was no son to him. Says you had the green scares at goin’ out in a bit of breeze. . . . “A bit of breeze?” put in Steve Sut ton. “I'll say it was a bit!” Baker ignored him. “You never was hankering to go afloat was you, Norm?" he asked, “No,” Norman aaswered slowly, “no I never was. And I'z: not now. Most thing I'm hankering for now is to see how much punishment you can take and come through alive. ~ . .” He moved forward. “Sit down, Erickson !” Cagtain Stock ing commanded. *“ldee o' such talk and such goin’scon! Sit down, 1 tell you! I'm master here!” Norman's temper cooled. *I ecan’t .« .« can’t teil all that's happened, Captain Stocking. My father Is better off when I'm not there. He ordered me away . . . meant t!”™ He fought for words. His legs and feet were numb. He felt the girl's mercl less eyes staring at the back of his head. “He'd have sunk the boat if he'd gone out In that blow this morn- Ty “You wouldn't leave him sink you, Norman, would you?" asked Baker. “You're a sallor, eh? The hardest sallin’ storm chaser on the lake meb be? It you are, your old man don't guess it! He says you got the scare, and he's sailed a bit, seen a bit, In bis time.” Baker turned to Susan. “It was you | came to see,” he sald. “Didn't figger on meeting this tadpole.” Norman started to follow the two out of the door, It was Captain Stock ing's sbort “Her 2 you!" that halted him, Steve Sutton arose from his .chalr, “1 don't like that dogfish!" he com plained. “Don't llke him” the keeper de manded. “What of It? Guess he don't like you. What of that? The lake is full of don't-llkes.” He turned on Norman, “What war his meaning about you and your paw?” “Nothing much,” Norman wet his lips. It was difficuit to explain, How could he make this o'd sallor under stand any more than he bhad his fa ther? Desperately b wet his lips. “1 wasn't alming to be a fsherman,” he sald, “My f(ather is stubborz some times. He wanted me to fish along with bhim.” “And you «,t an appointment here Instead?” Norman shook Lis head gloomlily, “Not exactly. 1 got fn. But I wasn't intending to keep it.” . “Not Intend'ng to heep 1t?" Captain Stocking removed hls spectacles an grily. “What kind of monkey shine was that? You think this lighthouse business 1s a game?” “No, sir, 1 wanted to come here. Only I saw 1 ought to fish. I was all fixed in my mind to go partners. To day he put me out. There wasn't any mistaking what he meant.,” The clock ticked twice. “I don't like fish ing . . .” he paused lamely, “Don't like fishing? Why not? Why wasn't you for goin' partners? Why your paw put you out?” Captain Stocking had taken off his blue uniform coat and stood in his shirt-sleeves, his lips pursed out like a fat public inquisitor. Steve Sutton interrupted. “I never did lay stock In that Bak er!” “It don't matter what you lay stock in,” the keeper answered. “l 1 got more to say to Erickson. | want to know what else Baker was aiming at. Have you got the name of coward down at Wadrid? If so, it's best you quit this service before you start. No place for fear. We're old seamen In It mostly, skippers and m tes of the saliling days. Good men!” “I'm not afraid! I'm not here to be preached at! I'm not here to have \ \\" ?‘fxs‘;:»';/ R~ o //\ \ v 3b, M/ ' A -~ i v///,'/.. I i W py Y %R : ~- 2 o™ /_;_:i'f Rs‘ Myi/“ His Lips Pursed Out Like a Fat Pub lic Inquisitor. you or Baker or anybody else yelling down my throat! I'll thrash Baker this time! TH . ,» “Stead-d-dy 1” “It's Baker,” declared Sutton. “He'’s always makin’ trouble, always holler in' at somebody. Called me a beach comber the othér day. | can’t come up here no more ’'thout seein’ him. As long as he hangs around these moorin’s, they's plenty o’ other places for me. Good night, Captaln Sam’l. Good night, Erickson.” He stamped down the steps and across the sand. Captain Stocking turned distractedly to Norman. “You've never salled anywhere?” he asked. Norman shook bis head firmly, Cap tain Stocking was shaking his also as he went to the door. He opened it for bis daughter and Baker. A “Was that the brave boy running?” Baker asked. “No? Still here? Must have been nice Mr, Sutton leaving us then, What you sweating about, Nor man? I don't mind seeing you sweat 1" Sue Stocking took off her scarf, with her shoulders severely straight, and hung it dellberately in a coat closet. \ “Ed's set me right shout this Er {ekson,” she told her father bluntly. She pald no attention to Norman. From her detached manner he might not have been In the room, “He's got the name of an unspeakable coward up at Madrid Bay.” “Coward? Come, come, Susan!” Baker was smiling, a grim, self. satisfied smile. He unfastened the strap of his sou'wester from a button on his slicker where it had bung, “I'd best be golng,” he declded, “It's getting late.” He turned famillarly to Susan. “I'll run down next Thursday evenin' If the weather's decent., We can toke a bit of a ride out Battle Ax way . . . what you think?" “Yes,” Sue answered, “that would be all cight,” She held out her hand. Captain Stocking nodded abstract edly. Norman's face was hard. He felt a bom:‘g rage In his throat, “I'll tell the boys you're sufe,” Bak. er taunted, and opened the door, Norman stepped after him, *“Hold on, E 4,” be cailed out, *1 want a word with you.” His vol ‘e sounded flat to his sensl tivs ears. How his throat hurt! What a castiron Image this girl looked! How astonished the eaptain, like o fidgety old woman | In the parior of the lighthouse Cap tain Stocking took off his spectacles, wiped them vigorously and propped them back on his raspberry nose, Sue relaxed. “A cownrd, dad, | guess that fixes wim. And | thought | llked him* Captaln Stocking walked the floor, “Looks bad," he agreed. “But may CHARLTON COUNTY HERALD be he all't really scared. Maybe he can't help it if he is. Once you get scart of water, you always cariy fit, like a black cat on the shoulders. Give the lad a chanct, Sue, Get both ends of this case. I've heard sea law yers make scoundrels out'n good lads afore now, . . . He stopped and they both listened. Voices were arguing on the beach. “What did you ever do?" Baker cried once. Then Norman Erickson’s voice, on fire with anger: “I'll drown you deeper'n a lost an chor, Ed Baker, if there's any more!” Their voices flared up a second time and then died away completely. Fa ther and daughter walted nervously. The new assistant was breathing hard when he re-entered the room. His blue eyes flashed with a chill anl mosity. He ignored Sue. “I'm to call you at midnight, sir?” he asked Captain Stocking, “S6h:y .. 0O .. . walta min ute, Erickson, Thinge s upset to night. It's after ten now. We better make Just two even watches of it to night. Turn me out at three bells . « .« half past one, I'll take till morning. I don’t need much sleep.” Sue wound the clock. Captain Stock ing pursed his lips reflectively. He chose to ignore the scene just over, “Ed must be having trouble start ing his boat,” Sue said. “lI haven't heard the engine . . .” “He's pumping her,” Captain Stock ing suggested. “l can take the watch, sir,” Norman repeated, “if you want to turn in.” Sue went to the window. Norman, eyeing her, saw a suspicious hardness cover her face. He left the room, 1l at ease, and on the step outside the front door stared up soberly at the light, Sue Stocking came out of the door behind him, “I'm going down and see what's holding Ed,” she sald determinedly. She ran down the steps, brushing Nor man's coat sleeve. He watched her uncertainly as she turned to the right around the house. He was tempted to follow, She was gone perhaps a minute. And then her voice sounded up from the wash, breathless, as if she were frightened. “Ed!” she called. Captain Stocking padded to the door, His plump face was red with perspiration. Norman made room for him to pass, then followed him. Un consciously they started together to ward the beach. “Father!” they heard Sue cry. There was no doubt about it this time. She wanted help. Norman raced through the sand. He heard Captain Stocking pant llke a winded dog at his heels. Sue Stocking was kneeling In the wet pebbles, trying to lift a man. Nor man leaned down, with a eick feeling in bis stomach, and turned the fellow over, It was Baker, all right . , . Baker with blood on his flat features and his mouth partly open, showing his teeth, “I think he’s dead,” Sue sald harsh: Iy. Norman caught his breath, This matter concerned him some way. In the moment's panic he could not tell to just what extent, “Pick bim up, you two, carry him Unable to Live Even Hours Without Water The most amazing race of human beings is undoubtedly the EI Moro, & tribe of “fishmen,” who linhabit the desert wastes bordering Lake Rudolf In Kenya colony, Africa. This tribe represents the only known specimens of semi-amphiblous people, and It is a curious fact that any tribesman dles if he Is kept withont water for about three hours, As a rule they drink every hour during the day, for even an hour and a half without water causes cracking and bleeding of the lips. The EI Moro tribesmen spend their days swimming In the waters of Lake Rudolf, and fishing from frall rafts constructed with palm branches. Fish 1s almost their only diet, and they have no opportunity of varylng their menu unless they are fortunate enough to spear a hippopotamus. The water of Lake Rudolf is undrinkable to anyone but the El Moro, for It con Overcoming Objections Little Trodas, uge five, Is always glad to see her munt come to spend the night, and thinks It quite a treat to get up and eat breakfast with ber the following morning, which Is al ways übout four hours earlier than ghe ils usually permitted to arise. At §:9O p. m, the aunt was trying to ex. plain that it made little girls cross to get up 8o early, so Trudas began to untle her shoe, and sald, “I'll be golng to bed right now, then” Paper From Reeds A Shanghal paper mill Is utilizing the reeds which grow In profusion along the river banks as a raw mate rinl, Its empacity Is about 45,000 reumms o yeur, in,” Sue sald. “Hurry, if you know how " She ran ahead. ’ | Baker was a heavy man for all hll: shortness of stature. Norman'’s eyes clouded so that he could not see as he lifted him In his arms, Captain Stocking puffed beside him. They reached the house door. Sue waited in the parlor, a basin of water dripping in her hands; her face was white but all the tumult was gone from f{t. “Put him down here on the couch. Bring the lamp.” “He’s breathing all right,” Norman sald roughly. “Feel him breathing ugainst me, Don't cry.” “l never cry,” sald Sue Stocking. He arose weakly and looked at her. There was blood streaking his sleeve and the front of his coat. He tried to rub it off. “Hit in the back of the head,” Cap taln Stocking whispered. Father and daughter turned slowly, as if a mechanical belt were twisting them. They looked accusingly at Nor man., Sue’'s eyes were merciless. “You don't thipk 1 did 1t?" He caught himself. *Better get a doctor,” he said dully, “reach McCarthy on the phone,” Captain Stocking shook his head. “Wind took our line down last night, There’s one over at the coast guard. Captain Parisb’ll call bim, . ~ * “I'll run,” Norman promised. He was glad to be out of the room, out of the presence of Ed Baker’'s flat bloody face, out of the range of Sue Stocking’s eyes. He arrived at the coast guard station just as the watch In the tower sounded six bells. The look-out awakened the captain. While Norman walted, Captain Parish tele phoned Copperhead. “One o' my patrol will meet youw at the malin road,” Norman heard him instruct Doctor McCarthy, *“There's a man hurt at the lighthouse . . . don't know how . . . don’t know any more at all. You'll start right away?" ; He came from the telephone. “Blood?” he asked, pointing at Nor man's jacket, “Yes, blood. 1 carried him,” ; “Fix a lantern, Anderson,” Captalg Parish bade the look-out. “I'll ge along back with this assistant.” He returned immediately in ollsking and boots. Norman walked silently beslde him, giving no particulars. In the parlor of the lighthouse Captale Stocking walted restlessly. Sue stood at the foot of the.couch stiff as a tamarack spar. The filsherman wag conscious, hls eyes were wide open, “Evenin’, Josiah,” Samuel Stocking greeted the coast guard captaln. “Evenin’, Sam’l,” Captain Parish an swered. “What's it about?” “About?” Ed Baker muttered. *1 can tell ye!” He moved his head slowly, and lifted one hand, pointing a thick, stubby, shaking finger at Nor man, “I was getting in my boat,” he cried, “Erickson hit me behind. He'd sald he was goin’ to drown me, ~ . ." He closed his eyes and lay still, Norman stared unbelievingly at him, He felt dizzy suddenly. The room was stuffy. He must have alr. Ho staggered toward the door, heard Sue Stocking speak sharply: “You disgusting coward!” (TO BE CONTINUED,) tains a large quantity of soda and hax an objectionable taste. The propos tlon ot soda In that lake Increases yearly, and it Is belleved to be this fact that has caused the “fishmen” te become a deformed race, Desert Cannibalism A teacher In Indiapa told her pri mary class about the life of the desert children; thelr games, clothing, food, ete. One article of food they had for dinper was roast kid, The next day she asked class members to tell what they had learned about the chlldren of the desert, The first hand ralsed was not that of a red-headed boy on the back seat but the bright. eyed boy with raven locks, sitting neer the front who proudly answered, “They had roasted boy for dinner.” Famous French Engineer Ferdinand De Lesseps, who lived from 18056 to 1804, was the famous French engineer whe designed und‘ superintended the construction of the Suez eanul which was completed be tween the years 15800 and 1500, [l scheme for cutting a eannl ncross the Isthmus of Panama led to a financlal collapse for which De Lesseps wn! held legally responsible, In his old nge he was coademned to a term of Imprisonment, which, however, was not enforeed, e —— Actions Beyond Recall Just us & stone sends Ity ever-widen Ing circles ncross s pool Into whick It has been dropped, wo every act of yours s muking ripples on the sur face of time, ripples that rpread ta beyond your knowledge.~-Gelt, GEORGIA STATE NEWS GEORGIA COTTON ESTIMATE FOR 1928 IS 1,020,000 BALES Crop Slightly Under Last Year's Figure in United States Report Recently Released. A’PLANTA. GA.-~The Georgia cotton crop for 1928 was estimated at the final cotton report of the year is sued Saturaday by V. C. Childs, agri cultural statistician in charge of the Georgia office of the United States department of agriculture, This estimated crop compares:with 1,100,000 standard bales in 1927. The 1928 acreage is placed at 9 per cent greater than the harvested acreage a year ago. The report placed the acreage for harvest this year at 3,719,000, and the yleld per acre at approximately 131 pounds, the lowest since 1923. The vield per acre a year ago was 154 pounds. Yields in the northern section of the state varied from fair to good, the re port showed, with production for the section running about 2 per cent above last year. The coastal plains and part of the Piedmont section, on the other hand, were severely handicapped by wet weather and unseasonably cool tem peratures, according to the report, As a result, the south Georgia crop was fully three weeks late, it was pointed out. Production was placed at about 38 per cent of the 1927 outturn, in these sections. Georgia ginnings prior to December 1, totaled 971,000 running bales, ac cording to the report. .0 Big Estate Is Bought by Broker Bainbridge, Ga.—F, M. Mills closed a deal with Kitchengs and King on 12 lots and five cottages in West Bainbridge for $7,775, and one lot of nnimproved land at the intersection of ¢he Bainbridge-Pelham and Whigham- Vada roads for $5,600 to B. M. Mills. Kitchengs and King now own prac lically two-thirds of the real estate an the industrial town, \ Paving of highway routes number 1 and number 38, with city street pav- Ing and contracts being let for addi tional amount of city paving, is boost ng business and the fall outlook sis good, according to some of the lead- Ing business men. { } Kiwanis Bury “Hard Times"” Montezuma, Ga. — With a unique and clever service the Kiwanis Club it the weekly luncheon conducted the luneral of a much-talked-of resident )f the community, “Hard Times.” The service was led by “Rev.” A. P, Lewis wnd tributes were paid to the deceased »y J. P. Walker, B. F. Neal and John B. Guerry. The concluding number vas a song, ““Pack Up Your Troubles,” ter which the “pallbearers” placed the departed on the dump cart to be :arried to his final resting place, Card Playing on Streets Banned Waycross, Ga.—The mayor and al lermen of Nahunta have gone on rec wd as disapproving of card-playing m the streets, or in front of stores of ‘he town, the position being taken that ‘lt looks bad to strangers visiting Na wunta.” A citizen’'s committee appear wd before the hoard of aldermen and somplained of the practice. No charges y gambiing were preferred, but the somplaint was that the habit consti uted o greve danger to the town, o ) ‘ Provisions for Orphanage Midville, Ga.—A car for the Georgla Baptist Orphanage at Hapeville was joaded with provigions of all kinds here. 'The ontire community, regard ess of denominational affiliations, co sperated in this enterprise. This car |s being sent by the Hephzibah Bap st Associztion. It came from Au gusta and Midville over the Georgla and Florida, and from Midville will pe sent over the Central of Georgla. Planning Big Highway Opening Swalinshoro, Ga.--At & meeting of the Swalnsboro Kiwanis Club, it was fefinitely decided that the club co operating with the city of Swalnsboro, county ofifelals and other civie or ganizations will celebrate the open- Ing of federal highway number 1 about Jauuary 16, when the connecting link will be completed into Swalosboro, It 1% the purpose of the Swalnsboro people to enlist the help of other towns on the route in making this opening a groat event, Big Estate Is Bought by Broker Thomasville, Ga.-~Gerald Living ston, ono of the members of the board of rovernors of the New York Stock oxchange, has acquired and entered into possession of some fifteen thou wand acres, lying part in Georgla and part across the state line, In Florida, twenty-five miles southeast of Thom auville, Of the tract 8,000 acres made up the plantation formerly owned by Major Burton Bellamy, along both wides of the Aucllla river. It Is one of the biggest deals of this section.