Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-06-22
Es CHAPTER XIV -;
ksIWe - Sdl
The Terror i



When Brouillard reached the side
walk the upper avenue was practically
deserted. But in the eastern residence
district, and we'll around to the north
new storm-centers were marked by the
increasing number of fires. Brouillard
stopped and faced toward the distant
and invisible Timanyonis. A chill au
tumn breeze was sweeping down from
the heights and the blOckading wall OF
the great dam turned it into eddies
and dust-pillared whirls dancing in the
empty street.
Young Griffith sauntered up with his
Winchester in the hollow Of his arm.
Anything new?" he asked.
NO." said Brouillard. Il was just
thinking that little wind would go a
long way tonight, with these crazy
house-burners loose on the town." Then
he turned and walked rapidly to the
government headquarters, passed the
sentry at the door of the mapping
room; and out of the ffreproof vault
where the drawings and blue print
duplicates were kept took small tin
dispatch box.
He had opened the box and had
transferred a slip of paper from it tC
the leather-cOvered pocket field book
which served him for a wallet, wher
there was a stir at the door and Cast
ner hurried in, looking less the clergy
man than the handwriting peace of
ficer
More bedlam," he announced. "I
want Gassman or Handley and twenty
or thirty good men. The mob has gone
from wrecking and burning to murder
ing. 'Pegleg' John was beaten to death
III front of his saloon a few minutes
ago. 1t is working this way. There
were three fires in the plaza as came
through"
See Grislow at the commissary and
tell him I sent you," said the chief
I'd go with you, but I'm due at the
Metropolis"
Good. Then Miss Amy got word to
you? | was just about to deliver her
message"
Miss Massingale? Where is she,
and what was the messenger" demand
ed Brouillard.
Then you haven't heard? The Lit
tie Susan is in the hands Of sheriff
posse, and David Massingale Is under
arrest on some trumped-up charge
selling ore for his Individual account,
or something Of that sort. Miss Amy
didn't go into particulars, but she told
me that she had heard the sheriff say
1t was penitentiary offense."
Q But where is she now?" stormed
Brouillard.
Over at the hotel. | supposed you
knew; you said you were going there
Brouillard snatched UP the dispatch
box and flung it into the f1reproof.
While he was locking the door Cashier
went in search Of Grislow, and when
Brouillard faced about, another man
stood in the missionary's place by the
mapping table 1t was Mr.. J. Wesley
Cartwright
The gray-faced promoter had lost
something of his old-time jaunty assur-
ance, and he was evidently we'll shaken
and unnerved by the sights and sounds
of the night Of terror. The sandy-gray
eyes advertised it as we'll as the fat
hands, which would not keep still
Il didn't think I'd have to ask a
favor of you again, Brouillard, but
needs must when the devil drives" he
began, with an attempted assumption
of his former manner I'VE didn't know
the newspapers didn't tell US any
thing about this frightful state of af-
fairs, and"
B4ouillard had suddenly lost his de-
sire to hurry.
Sit down, Mr. Cartwright" he said
Il was just coming over to see YOU
to congratulate you and Mr.. Schermer-
horn on your return to Mirapolis. We
have certainly missed the mayor, not
to mention the president of the COM
mon council"
"Of course-yes," was the hurried
rejoinder. But that's all over You
said you'd get US, and you did. don't
bear malice. Il you had given me one
more day I'd have got you; the stuff
that would have broken your neck with
the Washington people was all writ
ten and ready to put on the wires. But
that's past and gone, and the next
thing is something else. There is a
lot of money and securities locked up
in the Niquoia bank vault. We've come
to clean up, and we brought a few
peace officers along from Red Butte