The Pulaskian., 1919-05-02

The eyes of the dining room fol- lowed the party as they filed past the buzzing tables. Faraday was not in town; Marshall represented that DOW CT. As he walked out, lowing right and left, his right hand occasionally extended in his well-known oratoricaI courteous gestuAe. His black tie was stringing down his shirt front; his black clothes were the worse for his lunch. But no one, save the Eastern girls, saw spots or tie. The future of that valley lay in that mans hand, no matter how Black or Grace might harangue. In five minutes, the dining room was emptied.
 AS snow gently falling, had gath cred the first damage suits of the 1 ranchers. The last flood had precipi- tated temperamental storm. Men were suing for the possible values of their farms, impossible values of crops. Not alone the companies had been blanketed with the accusing pa pers, but against Mexico the white | drifts had piled up. Mexico! No one knew better than Hardin how absurd 1t was to accuse the sister country of responsibility. A pretty pickle they were in! Where was it all going to end?
 In the lobby, Hardin ran up against Brandon, who was following a news scent. Through the valley it was being rumored that subscriptions were to be asked for the completion of the work. If this were the intention, there would be hot meeting.
 You are going on the platform?" assumed the newspaper man. ''No? Then will you sit with mel"
 "If you will sit upstairs" seowled Hardin, q don't want to be dragged onto the platform"
 1 Down in the orchestra, Black from the Wistaria was haranguing group of gesticulating ranchers. Phrases climbed to the men on the balcony seats. "Keep their pledges. Promise makers. Let them look at our crops ]"
 'If Marshall expects to coerce those men, I lose my guess. Then he's no judge of men," cried Hardin. Look at those faces" The floor was a sea of impassioned features.
 Something's going to drop," echoed Brandon.
 From the wings, Babcock's inquisi- tive glasses were seen to sweep the 1 house. Hardin could catch the sum- mons of an excited forefnger to the l group unseen. There was a minute of delay. Then Babcock's nervous toddle carried him onto the stage.
 De la Vega followed Babcock. l There was hush of curiosity. The | house did not know who he was. Be hind him, soldierly, stiff, stalked Mac Lean. Marshall's entrance released 1 the tongues. There was an interval of confusion on the stage. Babcock, like a restless terrier, was snapping at the heels of the party. At last, they were all fussily seated. De la Vega was given the place of honor. Marshall, Babcock put on his left, MacLean on the right.
 Babcock raised his staccato gavel. l
 A hush fell on the house. His words were clipped and sharp.
 "You have left your blowing to come here. You are anxious to hear what we have to say to you. You cannot afford to be indifferent to it. You ac- knowledge, by your presence, a de pendence, correlation which you would like to deny. Irrigation means cooperation, suffering together, strug- gling together, succeeding together. l You prefer the old individual way, each man for himself. 1 tell you it won't do. You belong in other coun- tries, the countries of old-fashioned rain. You want to hear what we have to say to you, the company who saved the valley, the company you are suing. But you have also suits against Mex leo. There is a gentleman here who has a message from Mexico about 1 those suits. I have the honor, gentle men, to introduce, Senor de la Vega"
 Ladies" bowed the Mexican. Gen 1 tlemen, MT. Chairman. It is with an appreciation of the honor that I ac- | cepted for today the invitation of Mir. Marshall to speak before you, to speak to you; I must tell you first my thought as I sat there and looked at you, the youth, the flower of the Amer ican people. A few years ago, we were calling this the great Colorado desert; now, the world calls 1t the hothouse of America. This theater is built over the bones of gold-seekers, who dared death in this dreaded desert to find what was buried in those mountains beyond. The man, I say, who crossed this desert, took the hazard of death. It was coun- tryman of mine who piloted, fifteen years ago, a little band of men, across | the desert. Perhaps he camped on this very spot. It is not impossible It is here, perhaps, that he got his "