The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1916-05-25
HSd1rllRl
Hopkins
Adams
6eQQE
BEST BET


liberty bill through" said Waldemar.
scrawling a head on his completed
editorial, with one eye on the clock,
which pointed to midnight.
That was to be e.-pected, WASH
it, asked Average Jones.
"Oh. yes" replied the editor-oWner
Of the Universal in his heavy bass.
will veto it,
Thereby bringing the whole power
OF the gambling ring down on him like
all AVALANCHE
Naturally Morrison has declared
open war against 'Pharisee Phil, as he
calls Governor Arthur. Says he'll pass
the bill over his veto. In his heart he
knows he can't do it. Still, he's
hard fighter"
Average Jones tipped his chair back
against the wall Of the editorial sane
tum. What do you suppose he in
quired with an air Of philosOphic spec
ulation, that the devil will do with
Carroll Morrison's soul when he gets
it? Deodorize it?''
Harsh words, young sir! Harsh
words and reasonable against one of
our leading citizens; multimillionaire
philanthropist, social leader, director
of banks, insurance companies and
railroads, an emperor Of the race
track, the sport Of kings
Man to see Mr.. Waldemar," said an
Office boy appearing at the door.
TOO late" grunted the editor.
'He says it's very particular, sir,
and to tell you it's something Mr.. Nor
rison is interested in
Morrison, Ell? All right. Just step
into the inner office, will you, Jones?
Leave the door open. There might
be something interesting
Hardly had Average Jones found a
chair in the darkened Office when the
late caller appeared. He was middle
aged, pursy, and dressed with slap-dash
ostentation. He slumped into the wait
ing chair and mouthed mutely at the
editor.
"Well?' the bulletlike snap of the
Interrogation stung the man into bah
bling speech.
"'S like this, Misscr Wald'mar. S
like this. Y-y-yuh see, S like this.
Fer Gawsake, kill out an ad for me-
What? In tomorrow paper? Nom
sense! You're too late, even if l
wished to do it."
The visitor stood up and dug both
hands into his side pockets. He pro-
duced, first binocular, which, with a
snarl, he flung upon the floor. Before
it had stopped humping there tluttcrcd
down upon the seat Of his chair a
handful OF greenbacks. Another fol-
lowed. and another, and another. The
bills toppled and spread, and some Of
them slid to the floor Still the man
delved.
'There!" he painted at last. Money
talks. There's the stuff. Count it.
Eighteen hundred if there's dollar.
More likely two thou. If that amt
enough, make your own price. I don't
care what it is. Make it. Misser. Put
price on it"
There was something loathsome and
obscene in the creatures gibbering tiux
of words. The editor leaned forward.
Bribery, eh?" he inquired softly.
The man flinched from the tone. 1T
amt bribery, is it, to asst you to rout
out Jus one line from an ad an pay
you for the trouble. My own ad.
too. If it runs, it's my finish. l was
nutty when l wrote it. For Gawsake,
Misser-"
@stop it! You say Morrison sent
you here?"
mo, sir. Not exac'ly. S like this,
A[isser Wald'mar. l hadda get to you
some way. It's important to Misser
Morrison, too But he don't know
come. He don't know nothing about
It. Oh, Cav! If he finds out"
Put that money back in your
pockets."
With an ashen face of despair, the
man okeyed. AS he finished. he began
to sag at the joints. Slowly he slack
encd down until he was on his knees,
an abject spectacle Ct disgust.
Stand up" ordered Waldemar
"Liss'n; lss'n t. me- 'moaned the
man. I'll make it three thousand. FL
thou"
Stand up!'
The editors hearty grip on his coat
collar heaved the creature tc his feet.
For a moment he struggled, painting,
then spun, helpless and headlcng from
the room, striking heavily against the
passage wall outside. There was a
half-choked groan; then his footsteps
slumped away into silence.
UGH gruntcd WaldeEaar. Come
back, jones'
Average Jones rc-cntered. Have
you 10 curiosity in your composition?
he asAet $50 "'ss
NO, much-having been reared in
thu newspaper business"