Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1913-11-07

1t was not that he hated work or
craved a life of ignoble ease and pleas
ure. Philosophically inclined, even
Nefore he left college he had discerned
the futility of the search after hap
piness. Contentment, he knew, must
be the reward of work. But this
this eternal toll In New York office,
adding millions to millions for the
ACKNOWLEDGMENT of the monopoly which
his father had built up-this was what
appalled, him. In other lands a man
situated as he was might enter poll
tics, devote his life and fortune to
his country; here-well, his country
could get along very we'll without his
assistance In the vast and varied
public life Of America his efforts would
be lost, his ambitions crushed out
by daily disappointments and the sor-
did strife of the political world. He
saw no future of contentment for him
in the land of his birth; he, with his
millions, looked forward to fewer OPP
portunities than the poorest and most
illiterate immigrant passing beneath
the Statue of Liberty.
Many times a millionaire at the age
of thirty he had succeeded to the con-
troll of his fathers enormous business.
He fulfilled his duties punctiliously,
sedulously, but without heart. And his
week ends he spent alone in his cot
tage on the northern Long Island
shore, among his books, reading,
dreaming, or wandering by the barren,
desolate marshes and the surf-swept
shores of the Scum, while his mag
nificient town house remained closed
and his automobile rusted unused In
his garage.
Half a mile from his isolated house
he stopped, awaking out Of his medi.
tations to discover that he could no
longer see his way. A death-white fog,
one of the sea-borne fogs of Novem-
Der, had shrouded the land, blotting out
all the familiar landmarks Lane drew
in great breaths of it greedily 1t re-
minded him of London, with its mys-
terry and its charm, of melancholy
France, when the leafless poplars glis-
ten with white frost beside the Seine.
His years abroad had been too few
though vivid in incident Something
of his detection fell from him as the
pictures stirred in his mind and paint
ed themselves upon his memory in
vivid colors anew. Some day, when
he decently could, he would shake of
the cares of his life, resign the bus
mess into other hands, and withdraw
to that life of leisure which he loved
in other lands.
Suddenly he heard the booming of a
gun over the waters. 1t sounded like
the signal of some ship in distress
That was a treacherous shore near the
east end OF the Island, and one on
which ships often came to grief, fol
the long, oily pillows hid the menac
ing rocks which threatened vessels
Although 1t was far less than hun
bred miles from the metropolis. this
region might have been a remote
part Of the New England shore; Il
was out of the track of passing ships
little, forgotten space devoted tt
sea birds and hunters.
Then over the waves came some
thing strident and shrill, hooting like
steam siren and shrieking like al
| approaching cable car. And out o
the void fell something not fifty yardI
away that plunged into the sand ant
flung up a smoking hillock. Lane
walked quickly toward this object; al
he approached he heard the booming
sound once more.
When he came up he saw that
was a fifty-pound shell from a man-oi
wars gun that had burst asunder Their
and buried itself in the sand. TIL
shell had fallen before the booming be
gan; sound travelled slowly; he cal
culated that the warship must b.
about three miles In the offing. Sh
was evidently some vessel that ha
lost her bearings in the fog, and wa
attempting target practice notwith
standing
That might be a rational explana
ton, but-suddenly the thought cam
To him: was ever target practice hel
In the waters of Long Island Soun
before? Though that especial regio
was out of the track of ships. nun
erous small craft traversed the VIZ
.ers, to gather oysters or lay theI
down on the marine oyster farm
Surely no man-of-war ever engaged
target practice in that populous. lant
locked sea
Again a distant scream rose int
! dangerous din and, as the boom {
the gun followed, a shell ploughed u
the sand, this time falling furtht
away, but scattering more widel
Zane might have fastened from tn
spot without imputetion upon h
courage; and SO he would probab
have done, but at that moment Il
fog lifted
He stared out at a stretch of u
dulating, gray sea, ripping away t
ward the horizon Halt mile out. jul
where the crests Of the Rip Rocl
emerge from the waves, a small stear
ship lay on her side, grinding
pieces slowly under the ineessal
, founding of the waters. And, flu
Their away, a hulk low down on IL
horizon, were the black outlines or
man-ofwar.
The warship was evidently shelliI
The steamship. This much was e'
lent, for the trajectory of her shel
was Immediately over the latte
And it was equally clear that Il
steamship was no abandoned targ
destined to be battered by navy CUR