Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1920-09-24
THE FLIVvER
BY F. c. HARRINGTON.

~ gasp ana eNclaim by heck u then
your Manhattan friend nonchalantly
turns away with the remark. mot a
bad little building"
Just so do the natives of Woodfeld
conduct their visiting friends to the
Stafford poultry farm. Strangers in
variably admire the magnificent home
and grounds Of the millionaire owner
and at sight of the immense farm just
black with poultry houses invariably
their eyes bulge they gasp and de
clare, Good nghtw ITS certainly
some place." they say, "but one thing
puzzles me. You say this Stafford is
a millionaire?"
Yes, sir Ted Stafford made his
pile all right" and Cy smiles to him
self as if enjoying some secret joke
well, why under the sun doesn't
he buy a real automobile? These tliv
vers of his are camoutlaged with wire
wheels and made-to-order bodies so
they almost deceive YOU but still
they're only flivvers when airs said
and done"
Aha Cy knew that was coming.
He ticks his chops and begins. For of
all the stories that Woodfeld likes to
tell about her citizens that is the "a
yorite
1t was eight years ago in the month
of June. Ted Stafford and his mother
lived together on their little farm do
ing very prosperous egg business
the nucleus of the Stafford poultry
farm When Ted graduated from Har
ward two years previous he was en-
tirely satisfied to settle down as q
farmer
This June afternoon, however. Ted
was not farming. Just after dinner
he took a bath and donned his city"
clothes When he walked into the
kitchen, straw hat in hand, his mother
appraised him with an expression of
| proud admiration.
Dear me- Ted" she ioked, its no
wonder Ruth likes Woodfeld. GER
tanly admire her taste"
Jaw, cut it out ma. Say, ma, do
you like this tie?"
OF course she did. And if ma did,
then Ruth surely would.
Just now he was setting out for the
station to meet the 3 40, which was
bringing Ruth from the city.
1t was about quarter-past three
when Ted alighted from the depot
wagon. He hustled into the station
and shouted a greeting to Ira Jones,
who performed the duties of ticket
/ h
operator, and whose official title was
"station agent" Ira was the news
center of WoOdfield, since he picked
up the doings of the surrounding
towns from the agents along the line.
Outside of this, the use Of the tele-
graph in Woodfield was negligible.
whats new, Iry?' queried Ted.
well. they got new barber down
in JohnsOnville, and there's a bur
lesque show comm inter Eastway
Thursday night Reckon Woodfelds
male population will be kinda de-
pleted Thursday p. m. Think you'll
go DOWN."
mo, | guess not Ira"
Here their dialogue was interrupted
by the clicking of the telegraph re-
ceiver Ted sauntered over to the gum
machine and surveyed himself as best
he could in the little circle of mirror.
He bestowed a second or two on his
tie and began to caress his mustache.
At least Ted claimed it was a mus
tache; but were he not a six-footer
some of his acquaintances might have
differed. However, it was still very
young and, like all young things, was
rather weak, with its best days before
| 1t.
"Tedw Something in Ira's voice
startled him. and he rushed to the
ticket window. CONSERVATION was
written on every line of Ira's face.
Essay, Ted, w-was there some
friend of yours on the 3:45?
whats the matter"
It's gone over the banking at Fair
field junction. Some mix-up in sig
nals-had collision"
Ted felt the hot blood surge through
his arteries. my God Try, do they
was anybody hurt?"
Ira spent the next few minutes fran
tically clicking his instrument. while
Ted waited tensely, as pale as a stat
ne and as rigid.
what they say. Ira-what they
saw"
He says they don't know for sure,
but they expect considerable injuries
an maybe some deaths" Ira was
truthful but not tactful.
Ted commenced to pace the floor in
frenzy of anxiety. If he could only
do something-if he could only act |!
But this suspense -.
Meanwhile the little instrument
was still clicking. This time Ira was
taking message In pencil. With the
cessation of the clicking he called
out, "A wire from Boston for Theo-
dore Stafford"
Ted devoured the message and when
he finished he was weak with Joy. To
this date he rates that telegram
among his most valuable possessions.
Mr.. Theodore Stafford, Woodfield.