The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1918-01-25
The Rail Gave Way.

and sore. This brought to mind the
fight on the hurricane deck, and he
smiled. 1t hurt every time he twiched
q muscle.
The young man stepped to the look
ing glass. Both eyes were BACKED, his
lip had been cut, and there was
purple veal well up on his left cheek.
He stopped himself from grinning only
Just In time to save another twinge Of
pain.
"Some party while it lasted. I never
saw more willing mixers. Everybody
seemed anxious to sit in except Mr..
Wally Selfridge," he explained to his
reflection. "But Macdonald is the
class. He's there with both right and
left. That uppercut of his is vicious.
Don't ever get in the way Of it. Cor
don Elliot"
He bathed, dressed and went on
deck.
Early though he was, one passen-
ger at least was up before him. The
Young woman he had noticed last eve
ming with the magazine was doing
constitutional.
Irish he guessed her when the deep
blue eyes rested on his for an instant
as she passed, and fortified his conjec-
ture by the coloring of the clear
skinned face and the marks of the Gel
tic race delicately stamped upon 1t.
The purser came out Of his room and
Joined Elliot. He smiled at sight of
the young mans face. 'Your maps
a little out of plumb this morning, sir"
he ventured.
"But you ought to see the other fell
low" came back Gordon boyishly.
"Pye seen him-several of him. I've
got TO give it to you and Mr.. Macdon-
aid. You know how to hit"
| ooh. I'm not in his class"
Gordon Elliot meant what he said.
He was himself an athlete, had played
for three years left tackle on his col
lepe eleven. More than one critic had
niclxed him for the All-America team.
Rut after all he was product of train
ing and of the gymnasiums. Macdon-
old was what nature and long line
of fighting Highland ancestors had
made him.
The purser chuckled. 'He's good
I'M. Mac is. They say he liked to have
drowned Northrup after he had saved
him."
Elliot was again following with his
ewes the Tilt of the girls movements.
Apparently he had not heard what the
officer said.
With grin the purser opened an
other attack. Don't blame you bit,
Mr.. Elliot. She's the prettiest colleen
that ever sailed from Dublin bay"
"Who is she?"
'aThe name on the books is Sheba
O'Neill."
"From Dublin, you sayf"
ooh, If you want to be literal, her
baggage says Drogheda. Ireland is
Ireland to me-"
"Where is she bound for?"
"Kusiak."
The young woman passed them with
q little nod of morning greeting to the
purser. Fine and dainty though she
was. Miss O'Neill gave an impression
| of radiant strength.
"What is she going to do in Kusiak =
Again the purser grinned. "What do
they all do-the good-looling ones"
"Get married, you mean"
"Surest thing you know. Girls com.
ing up ask me what to bring by way
of outfit. / used to make out long
list Now I tell them to bring clothes
enough for six weeks and their favor.
lite wedding march"
SIS this girl engaged?"
"Can't prove it by me-" said the Of
ficer lightly. "But she'll never get out
Of Alaska spinster-not that girl
She may be going in to teach. or to run
millinery store, or to keep books fol
trading company. She'll stay t.
bring up Riddles of her own. They all
do"
Three children came up the stair
way, caught sight of Miss O'Neill, and
raced pell-mell across the deck to her