Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1917-06-28

Our home state, Of course. I don't
believe any member Of Mr.. Smiths
immediate family on either side has
ever moved out Of if"
Stanton gave it up for the time be-
ing, and was convinced upon two points.
Smith might have business reasons for
secrecy-he might have hackers who
wished TO remain completely unknown
in their fight against the big land
trust; but if he had no hackers the
other hypothesis clinched itself instant
ly-he was in hiding; he had done
something from which he had run
away.
1t was not until after office hours
that Stanton was able to reduce his
equation to its simplest terms, and it
was Shaw dropping in to make his re-
port after his first days work as clerk
and stenC srapher in the High Line
headquarters. who cleared the air Of at
least one fog bank of doubts.
1--WE been through the records AMI
the stock-books," said the sr,', When,
in obedience to orders, he hal locke
the office door. "Smith is p,aying a
lone hand. He f1imf1ammed jEnzie fCr
his first chunk of money, and :.fter thu; t
it was easy. Every dollar invested il
High Line has been dug up RIGHT here
in the Timanyoni. Here's the list Of
stockholders"
Stanton ran his eye down the string
of names and swore when he saw Max
Wells subscription of So 900. Damn
1t " he rasped; "and he's Fairbairns
own sOn-in-laW"
$50 is Starbuck, for that matter /;
and he's in for twenty thousand" said
Shaw. ''And, by the way, Bill is a
man who will bear watching. He's
hand-in-glove with Smith. and he's onto
all of our little crooks and turns. !
heard him telling Smith today that he
owed it to the company to carry f.
gun"
Stanton's smile showed his teeth.
81 wish he would; carry one and Kill
somebody with it. Then we'd know
what to do with him."
The spy was rolling a cigarette md
his half-clOsed eyes had q mT aerous
CLINT in them.
'Me, for instanceT' he inquired Gym
ically.
Anybody" said Stanton absently.
He was going over the list of stock
holders again and had scarcely heard
what Shaw had said.
''That brings us down to business,
Mr.. Stanton" said the ex-railroad clerk
slowly. "Tm not getting money enough
out Of this to cover the risk-my risk"
The man at the desk looked up
quickly.
whats thai you say? By heavens,
Shaw, I've spoken once, and III do
it just this one time more: you sing
small If you want to keep out Of Jail -
Shaw had lighted his cigarette and
was edging toward the door.
"Not this trip, Mr.. Stanton" he said
cOolly. IF you've got me, I've got
you. I can find two men who will go
into court and swear that you paid
Pete Simms money to have Smith sand
bagged, that day out at Simms' place
at the dam! l may have to go to Jail,
as you say; but I'll bet you five to one
that you'll beat me to it." And with
that he snapped the catch on the locked
door and went away.
Some three hours after this rather
hostile clash with the least trustwor-
thy but by far the most able of his
henchmen, Crawford Stanton left his
wife chatting comfortably with Miss
HIGHLANDER in the hotel parlOrs and
went reluctantly to keep an appoint
ment which he had been dreading ever
since the early afternoon hour when
a wire had come from Copah directing
him to meet the Nevada Flyer upon
its arrival at Brewster. The public
knew the name signed to the telegram
as that of a millionaire statesman; but
Stanton knew it best as the name Of
hard and not overscrupulOus master
The train was whfstling for the sta
ton when Stanton descended from his
cab and hurried down the long plat
form. A white-jacketed porter was
waiting to admit him to the presence
when the train came to stand, and as
luxurious private car, Stanton got what
comfort he could out of the thought
that the interview would necessarily be
limited by the ten minutes engine
changing stop Of the fast train.
Stanton, ten minutes later made q
flying leap from the moving train. At
the cab rank he found the motor cab
which he had hired for the drive down
from the hotel. Climbing in he gave
brittle order to the chauffeur. Stimuli
taneously man wearing the softest
of hats lounged away from his post of
observation under a nearby electric
pole and ran across the railroad plaza
to unhitch and mount wiry little COW
pony. Once in the saddle, however,
the mounted man did not hurry his
horse. Having overheard Stanton's
order giving, there was no need to keep
the motor cab in sight as it sputtered
through the streets and out upon the
backgrounding mesa, its ill-smelling
course ending at lonely roadhouse in
the mesa hills on the Topaz trail.
When the hired vehicle came to
stand in front Of the lighted barroom
of the roadhouse, Stanton gave a wait
ing order to the driver and went in.
Of the dog-faced barkeeper he asked
an abrupt question, and at the mans
jerk of a thumb toward the rear, the
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