Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1916-06-06
CHAPTER II
J. Wesley Croesus
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n
Brouillard was not what the West
calls "jumpy." Four years Of field
work, government or other. count for
something; and tho man who has
proved powder.shy in any stage Of his
grapple with the Land OF Short Notice
is customarily q dead man.
In spite Of his training, however, the
young chief of construction, making an
early morning exploration Of the site
for the new dam, WINGED handsomely
when the shock Of distance-mufded
explosion trembled upon the crisp
morning air. coming, % It seemed.
from some point near the lower end
of the canyon.
The decorating crash reminded him
forcibly that the presence Of the tour.
ing party was asserting itself. Tho ex-
plosion was too heavy to figure ~ .
sunshdt. Therefore It must have been
an accident Of some sort-possibly the
blowing up Of the automobile.
Between this and . hurried weight.
ing Of the sheaf of blueprints with his
f1eldglass preparatory to q hrst-aid
dash down the outlet gorge. there was
no appreciable interval. But when he
came to his outlook hating place Of
the night before, he saw that there had
been no accident. The big touring car.
yellow with the dust Of the Buckskin.
stood intact on the sand Mat where
1t had been backed and turned and
headed toward tho desert Wading In
the shadows of the river with linen
dust robe Tor ss:ue. tho two younger
men of the party were gathering the
choicest Of the dead mountain trout
with which the eddy was thick1y dot
ted.
Coming toward him on the upward
trail. and climbing laboriously to gain
the easier path among tho pines. were
the two remaining members Of the
party-an elderly, pudgy, stockily built
man with . gray face. stin gray mus
taches and sandy-gray eyes to match.
and the young woman. booted, gsunt.
leted. yelled. and bulked into shape
lessness by her touring coat. Brouil-
lard had sudden rush Of blood to the
anger cells when he realized that the
alarm which had brought him two
hard-breathing miles out Of his way
had been the discharge Of stick Of
dynamite thrown into the Niquofs for
the hsh-killing purpose. In his code
the dynamiting OF stream figured -
a high crime. But the two on the trail
had come up. and his protest was fore
stalled by the elderly man with the
gray face and the sandy-gray eyes,
whose explosive "Ha" was as much a
measure of his breathlessness a. Of
his surprise.
II was Just telling Van Bruce that
his laundering f1sh cartridge would
raise the neighbors," tho trail climber
went on with . stout mans chucile.
And then: You're one Of the reclama-
ton engineers? Great work the gov
eminent Is undertaking here. You
are connected with 1t. aren't you?"
Brouillard's nod was for the man.
but his words were for tho young
woman whose beauty refused to be
quenched by the touring handicaps.
Yes. am in charge of it." he said.
Hal" said the stout man, and this
time the exclamation was purely ap-
probative. "Chief engineer. Ell? That's
fine, fine! My name Is Cortwright-
J. Wesley Cartwright Of Chicago. And
yours Isl"
Brouillard named himself in one
word. Strangers usually found him
bluntly unresponsive to anything like
ef1usiveness, but he was finding 1t Gu.
riously difficult to resist the good
natured heartiness which seemed to
exude from the talkative gentleman,
OVERLAPPING lin Ike the honeydew on
the leaves In . droughty forest.
II Mr.. J. Wesley Cortwright's sur
prise on hearing the Brouillard sur
name was not genuine 1t was at least
an excellent imitation.
!. well. well. well-you don't say!
Not of the Brouillards Of Knox county,
Indiana but, of course. you must be. )"
Yes" said Brouillard. Our branch
Of the family settled near vincennes,
and my father was on the bench. when
he wasn't In politics"
What? Not 3uuge Antoine! Why.
my dear young man! Do you know
that once had the pleasure Of intro
ducing your good father to my bank
ers In Chicago? It was years ago, at
time when he was interested in noat-
ing a bond issue for some growing In
dustry down ON the Wabash. And to
think that away out here in this howl
Ing wilderness, thousand miles from
nowhere, as. you might say, ! should
meet his sonl"
Srvui i;;; laughed laughed ::: Ell
into the pit OF triteness.
"The world isn't so very big when
you come to surround it properly, Mr..
Cartwright" he asserted.
"You are wondering What fool no
ton chased us sway out here in the
desert when we had comfortable no.
tel to stop at" he ratified on. I'll
| tell you, Mr.. Brouillard-in confidence
It was curiosity-raw, country curfos
/ ity. The papers and magazines have
I