Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1917-12-19
LIAM MdCLEOD PAINE

Copyright. 1907. by William Macleod Paine.

TIE lIleH toSelHeI anu I'Sdu tlc hAol aSt
to them. He fired this bunch on the
boat and was out of the camp before
you could bat an eye. 1t was the clean
est hurry-up job ever did see."
"From what I've heard about him,
he must be remarkable man."
Hes the biggest man in Alaska,
bar none"
This was subject that interested
Gordon Elliot very much. Colby Mac
donald end his activities had brought
him to the country.
do you mean PERSONAL---VERY. be-
cause he represents the big corpora
tions?'
Both. His word comes pretty near
being law up here, not only because
he stands for the Consolidated, but
because he's one man from the ground
up"
DO you mean that he's square
honest?"
you've said two things, my friend"
answered Strong dryly. Hes square.
If he tells you anything, don't worry
because he amt put down his John
Hancock before notary. Don't waste
any time looking for fat or yellow
streaks in Mac. They amt there. No
body ever heard him squeal yet and
what's more nobody ever will"
mo wonder men like him."
"But when you say honest Mol
Not the way you define honesty down
in the States. He's grabber, Mac is"
"What does he look like?"
"Oh, l don't know" Strong hest
tated, while he searched for words to
show the picture in his mind. big as
a house-steps out like buck in the
spring-blue-gray eyes that bore right
through you"
"How old?"
"Search me. You never think of age
when you're looking at him. Forty
five, mebbe-or fifty-I don't know"
''Married?
"No-o." Hanford Strong nodded in
the direction of the Kusiak circle.
"They say he's going to marry Mrs.
Mallory. She's the one with the red
hair"
1t struck young Elliot that the miner
was dismissing Mrs. Mallory in too
cavalier a fashion. She was the sort
of woman at whom men look twice,
and then continue to look while she
appears magnificently unaware of it.
Her hair was not red, but of lustrous
bronze, amazingly abundant, and
dressed in waves with the careful skill
of a coiffeur. Slightest shades of
meaning she could convey with lift
Of the eyebrow or an intonation Of the
musical voice. If she was already
fencing with the encroaehing years
there was little evidence Of it in her
opulent good looks.
The whistle of the Hannah blew for
the Tatlah Cache landing while Strong
and Elliot were talking. The gang
plank was thrown out.
A man came to the end Of the wharf
carrying a suitcase. He was well-set,
thick in the chest and broad-shoul-
dered. Looking down from above,
Gordon Elliot guessed him to be in the
early thirties.
Mrs. Mallory was the first to recog-
nize him, which she did with a drawl-
ing little shout Of welcome. "Oh, you,
Mr.. Man. I knew you first. I speak
for YOU" she cried.
The man on the gangplank looked
up, smiled and lifted to her his broad
gray hat in wave of greeting.
"How do you do, Mrs. Mallory? Glad
to see you"
The miners from Frozen Gulch were
grouped together on the lower deck.
At sight Of the man with the suitcase
Those in the rear pushed forward and
closed the lane leading to the cabins.
One Of the miners was flung roughly
against the new passenger. With a
wide, powerful sweep Of his arm the
man who had just come aboard hurled
the miner back among his companions.
"Gangwayv he said brusquely, and
as he strobe forward did not even
glance in the direction Of the angry
men pressing toward him.
"Here. Keep back there, you fell
lows. None Of that rough stuff goes"
ordered the mate sharply.
The big Cornishman who had been
tossed aside crouched for spring. he
launched himself forward with the
awkward force Of bear. The suit
case described a whirling arc of cir
Gle with the arm of its owner as ra-
lius. The bag and the head Of the
miner came into swift impact. Like a
bullock which had been poleaxed. the
man went to the floor. He turned over
with groan and lay still.
The new passenger looked across |
the huge, sprawling body at the group
Of miners facing him. They glared in
savage hate. All they needed was a
leader to send .them driving at him
with the force of an avalanche. The
man ut whom they ragged did not give
an inch. He leaned forward slightly,
his weight resting on the balls of his
feet, alert to the finger tips.
"Next," he tainted.
Then the mate got busy. He hustled
his stevedores forward in front of the
miners and shook his fist in their faces
as he stormed up and down. If they
wanted trouble, by Jove! it was wait
ing for 'em, he swore in apoplectic
fury. The Hannah was river boat
and not a dive of wharf rats!
The man with the suitcase did not