The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1911-03-01
THE EVENING STORY
Folwell Adds Local color.

was a mover S6nSaL1On-f IN college ne
mad been SO popular because of his
athletic prowess that they had not
ragged him. Perhaps an additional
| reason for his immunity was his
known cleverness with his fists.
| Since taking up his profession, engi-
get along with people and to command
respect. And yet here. up in the Mich
| igan Jackpine wilderness, a couple Of
pseudo-woodsmen were trying to put
something over on him! And trying it,
| furthermore, in the presence of as
pretty girl as one might wish to see.
The supper table in the log cabin
was enlivened by covert illusions to
his stiff hat, starched shirt and other
evidences of a too-effeminate civiliza-
ton. The boundless presumption of
the genus tenderfoot wac also a sub
| ject for much discussion.
| Folwell did not mind it, at first.
"Boys will be boys" he said to him.
self. to1erantly, though the boys"
were as old as himself and one was
ty girl and calmly ignored the young
men.
The joking became more personal
and offensive. He noted that the in
hospitality of her friends was becom-
! ing embarrassing to the girl. A CLINT
appeared in Folwell's eye. That meant
| trouble.
| When the meal was finished the en-
gineer strolled out of the cabin.
Darkness had settled over the lonely
Landscape. The snow was more than
knee deep and a storm was setting in
Ia grim, determined sort of storm
more appropriate to December than
early March. The wind was search
ingly cold.
After a momen's hesitation Folwell
plunged through the drifts to another
cabin a short distance away-a squat
ty log house with a single window,
through which a light shone. He
knocked and entered. Sam, the team
ster. who had driven him from Prince
vile, rose to greet him
SAM said Folwell, when the
teamster was putting appreciatively at
one of his cigars, 'I didn't come over
here exactly to pass the time of day.
wanted to ask a few questions. How
does this look to your" This" was
a dollar bill.
Looks good" grinned Samuel.
well, then, what sort of game have
you put me up against You agreed
to drive me to Rocky Creek. Instead.
you head over here, claiming your
harness is broken And two chaps;
fresh as paint, try to give me third
degree. What's the joke. anway?"
Jaw, you'll get to Rocky Creek all
right replied Sam. He grinned again
uncomfortable. ''And you'll get a bet
ter bed here than you would over
hours away. You won't get mad if I
tell you?"
.erhat depends. Anyway, you'll get
your dollar"
Sam smoothed his scraggly mus
tache, cleared his throat and began:
''This place, an most O. the county
so fairs that goes belongs to old
Tommy Slade. He has been lumber
jack and a timber cruiser. We've had
some high old times together, for
Tommy was one of the. boys But he
saved his money an bought cheap
pine lands. He held 'em till the prices
went up, an so he's a millionaire.
He lives in New York. but he built
these cabins an comes back every
winter; can't forget the smell O. spruce.
Brings his family, too"
''Where Is he now?"
drove over to Rocky Creek with
his wife; be back after a while.
1.-THE girl in there is their daughter,
Grace. She stays with them in the
big shanty on the knoll back here.
The yellow haired lad is old Tommy's
son, young Tommy. His friend, the
York. Names Vance CORTLAND; ever
hear o. him ?''
Eyes. I thought I'd seen him be-
fore. He plays in Western dramas"
That's him. nodded Sam well,
young Tommy is a-writing a play for
him. They coll-coll-''
collaborating.
'sThat's it. The house where you
ate supper is their study-o. They eat
an sleep an write an box there
BOX. you say? Have they gloves?"
woods loaded with deadly weepins,
like Davy Crockett. But they don't
shoot anything. Never saw man
who wouldn't wear suspenders that
could hit an acre of pine stumps.
Here's where 1 come in. This play
they're writia' is a backwoods dram
mer, and they need what they call
local color. Whenever I pick up
likely lookin' chap goin' from Prince
vile to Rocky Creek my harness
breaks an 1 tote him up here. They
feed him an lodge him an get mad
sos he'll talk stuff they can put in
their play.
81 get two dollars a head for each
one. An I've brought 'em some birds.
IA couple o. lumberjacks started to
rough-house one night but a little
1.-THE girl don't like the way they
act. She says it's abusing the name of
hospitality. That keeps them in
bounds little, for CORTLAND wants to
marry her. But 1 don't believe she
cares a cent for him. Old Tommy, he
just laughs and tells them to go
ahead. He says they'll get theirs yet
F'olwel rose. Here's your dollar,
Sam" The CLINT of his eye was more
pronounced. He was smiling a pleased
sort OF smile.
Much Obliged" said the teamster.
pocketing the bill. Then he looked
curiously at Folwell. "Say, what you
going to do?"
I'm going to give them-'theirs. -
In less than fifteen minutes young
Slade was eagerly proposing that the
traveller put on the gloves with him.
He believed it was his own suggestion
entirely; but Folwell, accustomed to
leading timid and close listed capital
into costly engineering projects, had
really goaded him to the challenge.
CORTLAND, the vain and handsome
was also blinded by his cleverness; but
in the eyes of Miss Slade, as he was
pulling on the gloves, Folwell caught
a look of amused comprehension.
Tommy Slade would never have
,odo 1,fe IN +ho ring IIo