Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-05-18

There were dozen business blocks
under construction in Mirapolis, with
a proportional number of dwellings
and suburban villas at various stages
in the race toward completion, when
it began to dawn upon the collective
consciousness Of a daily increasing
citizenry that something was missing.
Garner, the real estate plunger from
Kansas City, first gave the missing
quantity it's name. The distant thun-
der OF the blasts heralding the ap-
proach of the railroad had ceased be-
tween two days.
Up to the period of the silenced dy-
Mantle thunderings new industries
were projected daily, and investors,
tolled in over the high mountain trails
crusted automobiles by methods best
known to a gray-mustached adept In
the art of promotion, thronged the
lobby of the Hotel Metropole and
bought and sold MiranoIis CORNERS"
or "lnsides" on a stead1ly-ascending
| scale Of prices.
A strange mania for holding on, for
permanency, seemed to have become
epidemic. Many Of the working men
were securing homes on the install
ment plan. A good few of the villas
could boast parquetry floors and tiled
bathrooms. One coterie of Chicagoans
decided to build a six-storied office
building, with a ground floor corner
for the NiQuoia National bank with
modern conveniences and that the
chosen building material should be of
nothing less permanent than mono
| lithic concrete.
In harmony with the same spirit the
newly incorporated Buckskin Gold
Mining and Milling company plowed
| deep burrows to bedrock across and
back until the face of Jacks mountain
was zigzagged and SCARED like a vet
| eran Of many battles.
| In keeping was the energy with
which Mr. Cartwright and his munich
| pal colleagues laid water mains, strung
electric wires, drove the paving con-
| tractors, and pushed the trolley line to
| the stage at which it lacked only the
rails and the cars awaiting shipment
| by the railroad.
This was the situation on the day
| when Garner, sharp-eared listener at
the keyhole of opportunity, missing
the dynamite rumblings, sent cipher
wire Of inquiry to the East, got
rush" reply, and began warily to I'M
| load his Metropolitan holdings. Being
man of business, he ducked to cover
first and talked afterward; but by the
time his hint had grown to rumor size
Mr.. Cartwright had sent for Brouil.
lard
Pull up chair and have cigar"
said the great man when Rrouillard
had penetrated to the nerve-center OF
the Metropolitan activities in the Metro.
pole suite and the two stenographers
had been CURLY dismissed. Have
you heard the talk of the street? There
is rumor that the railroad grading
has been stopped"
Brouillard, busy with the work OF
setting the third series Of forms on
his great wall, had heard nothing.
1--WE noticed that they haven't been
blasting for two or three days But
that may mean nothing more than q
delayed shipment Of dynamite" was
his rejoinder.
'It looks bad-devilish bad" The
promoter was planted heavily in his
pivot chair, and the sandy-gray eyes
dwindled to pin points. 1--WE are up
against it, that's all. Read that" and
the promoter handed a telegram
across the desk.
The wire was from Chicago, wae
signed "Ackerman," and was still
damp from the receiving operators
copying press. It read:
Work on P S-W.'s Buckskin ex
tension has been suspended for the
present. Reason assigned, shrinkage
In securities and uncertainty of bust
ness outlook in Niquoia''
Mr.. Cortwright's frown figured as a
feshly mask Of irritability Let It'll
once get out that the railroad people
lis and we're DONE
Brou1ilards retort was the express |
sion of an upfash Of sanity
'Mirapolis has no future: it has
only an exceedingly precarious pres |
emit"
For moment the sandy-gray eyes |
became inscrutable. Then the mask |
Of irritation slid aside, revealing the |
face which Mr.. J. Wesley Cartwright |
ordinarily presented to his world
the face Of imperturbable good nature |
You're right, Brouillard; Mirapolis |
is only good joke, after all. Some |
times l get bamfoozled into the idea
that it isn't-that it's the real thing. |
That's bad for the nerves. But about |
this railroad fZzle; / don't relish the |
notion Of having our little joke sprung |
On us before we're ready to laugh, do
you? What do you Think"