The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1917-02-15

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accompany me to Savannah to watch
the races?"
Are you going, Immanuel?" asked
Tarrant in surprise. when the
prophecy is fulfilled the augur is at
home, you know"
II have to read a paper at the an
nual meeting of the Georgia Medical
society that evening"" the doctor an
sWered.
"What a condolences" exclaimed.
The doctor smiled. Gas you please"
he answered. AT any rate, you see
history is in the making. Will you
come, Tarrant?"
eyes, confound you, I will come"
answered our host, throwing aside his
Assyrian catalogue. Emmanuel, you
have got me thoroughly wrought up
by your exotic beliefs. I'll come and
see Harris killed.
a"And then you'll believer"
mot if Harris confessed himself to
be Hippias in his last will and testa-
ment"
Doctor Emmanuel grinned broadly.
had never seen him look so facetious.
"Some day, Mr.. Tarrant," he said,
placing his hand upon the big mans
shoulder, Eve shall find out who you
were when Rome was mistress OF the
world. Like as not you were an AS
syrian slave who spent his days ma
king catalogues of his masters manu-
SCRIPTS" he added maliciously.
"And was plagued by confounded
bonesetter from Athens who persisted
in assuring me that in my next incar-
nation should be the owner Of some
of the choicest of my masters treas
ures," answered Tarrant. "Well, I'll
come, anyhow. How about you?" he
continued, turning to me.
I'm with you'll answered.
There is nothing more to record ex-
cept the final spectacle. Ten cars had
been entered in the race, but by COM
mon opinion Harris and Morton would
run close together at the finish. The
grand stand was packed; excitement
was intense. We had three of the best
seats in the enclosure, close to the
Judges, and I remember pointing to
dignified old Senator Smart and his
wife and asking Emmanuel whether
they were Justinian and his consort.
But he was obviously too distressed
for me to continue this sort of badin-
age. His eyes were riveted upon Har-
ris as he drove by to the accompani-
ment Of tumultuous cheering, his
broken collar-bone still supported by a
slender brace. 1t was madness for him
to attempt to drive. I saw him glare
at Morton in his Carrier, and saw Nor
ton return the glare every whit as
cruelty. There could be no doubt that
if a tragedy we're averted one OF the
two would leave the course broken
man, never to race again.
They were off. They had started on
the long race, all ten of them, and as
each car swept by the crowd cheered
wildly and discussed the issue in a
bable of tones. But soon they settled
themselves down to await the long
drawn out issue. Presently the weak
er cars began to lag behind or drop
out of the race. Tires burst, mechan-
ism went out Of gear, defeated drivers
sullenly retired. Five were left in,
then four. Then three. Suddenly I
caught sight of woman upon the
bench below me, not ten PAGES dis
tant.
1t was Mae Connolly, and she looked
as Byzantine lady might have looked
when the warriors fought or the char
ioteers raced in the arena. She was
cold, but as intensely cold as bar OF
steel that sears the hand like fire in an
arctic winter. She sat unmoving, hard
ly breathing, her flashing eyes dilated,
her lips apart, as though she drank in
the spectacle Of the contest and await
ed bloody ending. She seemed as
perfectly poised and as self-sure as the
tigress crouching for her victim. She
did not move or change in one iota
when Harris swept by, when Morton,
now his only rival, raced after him,
hardly three cars lengths distant. The
specks in the far distance grew larger
and resolved themselves into the cars
again. Now they were passing on the
penultimate lap, and I saw that Nor
ton had drawn closer. The concourse
roared, but still the woman sat IN
moved. Tarrant was moved; I'M
manuel sat as though dumbly awaiting
the inevitable catastrophe; but the
woman was not moved. And I knew
that it was the lust for conquest that
entranced her. It was for her these
men were striving, and she knew that
it was to be strife unto death.
And now the cars were whirling
back again on the last round of all,
and the spectators stood up and yelled
and screamed and shouted themselves
into husky whispers. They were al
most abreast now-Harris leading;
they were abreast - Morton was pass
ing him, inch by inch, inch by inch.
Harris was falling back! No, it was
the delusion caused by the foreshort-
ening of the bend of the track. Harris
was still in the Leader was Morton?
My eyes swan. 1 heard thousand
cries, asservating, denying. And then,
amid all that confusion, saw Mae