The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1916-04-20

dives were stIll running full blast
chiefly now on the wages of the gov
eminent force.
1T will be worse before 1t is better"
was the young chiefs prediction, and
the foreboding verified itself that
, night. Looting Of more or less brazen
sort had been going on from the first.
and by nine o'clock of the night of
prediction loosely organized mob Of
drink-maddened terrorists was drifting
from street to street, and there were
violence and incendlarism to follow.
Though the property destruction
mattered little. the anarchy it was
breeding had to be controlled. Brouil-
lard and Leshington got out their re-
serve force and did what they could to
restore some semblance of order. It
was little enough; and by ten o'clock
the amateur policing of the city had
reduced itself to a double guarding OF
the dam and the machinery, and a
cordoning of the Metropole. the re-
clamation service buildings, and the
Spotlight office. For Harlan, the dash
of sporting blood in his veins assert
ing itself, still stayed on and continued
to issue his paper.
81 said | wanted to be in at the
death, and for few minutes tonight
thought | was going to be" he told
Brouillard when the engineer had
posted his guards and had climbed the
stair to the editorial Office Then he
asked question: When is this little
hell-on-earth going to be finally extin-
guished. Victor?"
Instead of answering, Brouillard put
question of his own: did you know
that Cartwright and Schermerhorn and
Judge Williams came back this eve
ming, Harlan?"
81 did," said the newspaper man.
"They are registered at the Metropolis
as large as life"
What's up?"
THAT is what I'd like to know.
There's a bunch of strangers at the
Metropole, too, sheriff's posse,
Poodles thinks; at least, there is a
deputy from Red Butte with the
crowd"
Harlan tilted back in his chair and
scanned the ceiling rehectively. This
thing is getting on my nerve, old man.
| wish we could clean the slate and all
go home"
1T is going to be cleaned. Notices
will be posted tomorrow warning
everybody that the waste-gates will be
closed promptly on the date adver-
tised."
when is it9 Things have been re.
volving too rapidly to let me remember
such a trivial item as date"
1T is the day after tomorrow, at
noon"
The owner of the Spotlight nodded.
LET her go. Gallagher. I've got every
thing on skids, even the presses. An
revoir-or perhaps one should say, Au
reservoir"
Fresh shoutings and cracking of
pistols arose in the direction of the
plaza, and Brouillard got up and went
to window The red glow of other
house burnings doomed against the
somber background of Jacks noun
tain.
"Senseless savages!" he muttered
and then went back to the editor 81
don't like this Cartwright reappear-
ance, Harlan. | wish | knew what il
means"
Lets see," said the newsman
thoughtfully; what is there worth
taking that they didn't take in the
sauve qui peut? BY Jove-say! Did
old David Massingale get out of ].
Wesley's clutches before the lightning
struck"
Il wish I could say Yes, and be sure
of it." was the sober reply. You knew
about the thieving stock deal. or what
you didn't know ] told you. Well.
had Massingale. as president. call a
meeting of directors-which never
met. Afterward. acting under legal,
advice, he went on working the mine,
and he's been working it ever since,
shipping a good bit of ore now and
then, when he could squeeze it in be-
tween the getaway trains. OF course.
there is bound to be future of some
sort; but that is the present condition
of affairs"
How about those notes in the bank?
Wasn't Massingale personally involved
in some way?"
Brouillard bounded out of his chair
as if the question had been point
blank pistol shot.
Great heavensl" he exclaimed. "To-
days the day. In the hustle | had for
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