The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1913-11-20

I
Carthy had but the one virtue Of ac-
curacy. and that had to do with mat
ters of time. At five minutes OF six
he reached for his hat: at three min
utes OF six he boarded the elevator.
Runs all right today Sam" he re-
marked genially to the boy whom he
had half throttled the evening before.
He stood for moment i'm the en-
trance Of the building. enjoying tho
sight OF the crowds hurrying to their
cars the elevated, the subway. and
the ferries. The clang and rom of
the city pleased his senses. as a yes
sci vibrates to it's master tone. Nc
earthly was feeling largely paternal
as he stepped toward the corner. for
to a great extent the destinies OF
these people were in his hands.
Easy marks!" was his phllan-
thropic expression OF this sentiment
At the corner he stopped for a car.
He glanced up At the clock at tho
Metropolitan tower The bronze hand
pointed to the stroke OF six. AS he
looked. the first note OF the quarter
chimes rang out. The car swung the
corner and headed down the street.
Mccarthy stepped forward. The
sweet chimes ceased their fourfold
phrasing. and the great bell began
its spaced and solemn booming.
One!-Two!-Thr Four Five,
Six! Mccarthy counted. At the recol-
| lection OF crazy message from the
Unknown, he smiled. He stepped for
ward to hold up his hand Mt the car
Somewhat to his surprise the car had
already stopped some twenty feet
away.
Mccarthy picked his way to the
car.
Wonder you wouldn't stop at
crossing" he growled. swinging
aboard
Juice give out" explained the mo,
torman.
Mccarthy clambered aboard and sat
down In a comfortably filled car. Up
and down the perspective of the street
could be seen other cars, also stalled
Ten minutes slipped by; then Mala-
chi Mccarthy grew impatient with
muttered growl he rose, elbowed his
way through the straphangers, and
taxicabs stood in front of the Atlas
Building. Into the first of these
bounced Mccarthy. throwing his ad-
dress to the expectant chauffeur
The man hoped down from his box
threw on the coil switch and ran to
the front. He turned the engine over
the compression. but no explosion fol-
lowed. He repeated the effort dozen
times. Then, grasping the starting
handle with firmer grip, he "whirled'
the engine-without result
What's the matter? Can't you make
her go?" demanded Mccarthy, thrust
ing his head from the door
"Will you please listen, sir. and see
If you hear buzz when ! turn her
over?" requested the chauffeur.
Il don't hear nothing" was the YER
dict
I'm sorry, but you'll have TO take
another cab" then said the man. My
coils gone back on me-"
Mccarthy impatiently descended.
entered the next taxi in line, and re-
peated the same experience. BY now
the other chauffeurs. noticing the
predicament of their brethren. were
anxiously and perspiringly at work
Not an engine answered the call of the
road! A passing truck driver grin
ming from ear to ear, drove slowly
down the line, dealing out the ancient
Jests rescued for the occasion from
an oblivion to which the perfection Of
the automobile had consigned them
Mccarthy added his mite; he was
beginning to feel himself the victim
of series of nagging impertinences,
which he resented after his kind
IT." said he, your company would
put out something on the street be-
sides n bunch of retired grist-mills
with clock dials hitched on to them.
you might be able to give the public
some service. I've got lots OF time
Don't hurry through your afternoon
exercise on my account Just buy
lawn-mower and a chatelaine watch
apiece-you'd do just as we'll"
BY now every man had his battery
box open. Mccarthy left them. puz.
cling over the singular failure of the
electrical apparatus, which is the nerv-
ous system Of the modern automobile.
He turned into Fifth Avenue. An
astonishing sight met his eyes.
The old days had returned. The
center OF the long roadway, down
which ordinarily long file of the pur.
ring monsters of gasoline creep and
dash, shouldering aside the few han
SONS and victorias remaining from a
bygope age, now showed but a swing.
ing slashing trot of horses.
Hansoms, hacks. broughams: I'D,
raised whips, whirling in signal: the
spat spat OF horses hoofs: all the ob.
solescent vehicles that ordinarily doze
in hope along the sands Of the side
streets; 1t was a gay sight of the past
raised again for the moment TO reality
by the same mysterious blight that
had shadowed the Atlas Building the
night before.
Mccarthy looked about him for n
hanson. There was none unengaged
In fact the boss soon determined that
many others. like himself. were wait
Ing for chance at the first vacant
one. Reluctantly he made up his mind
TO walk. He glanced up at the tower
OF the Metropolitan Building; then
stared In astonlshment The hands Of
the great dial were still peroendicular
the hour indicated was stIl six
O'Clock!