The L'Anse sentinel., 1921-07-29
CHAPTER Xxx
p. 8. L. Comes Home

of breakfast in the grill-room / swiped
a camp-stool and magazine out OF
the lounge and trotted upstairs to
plant myself before the boss door, de-
termined that nobody should disturb
him until he was good and ready to
get up.
He turned out little before twelve,
looking sort Of haggard and drawn, of
course, and having some pretty bad
burns on the side of his neck and on
the backs of both hands. But he was
all there, as usual, and he laid good,
brotherly hand on my shoulder when
he saw what was doing.
"They don't make many of them like
you, Jimmie" he said. And then:
"Have you any newsT
had, little, and gave 1t to him.
Fred May had come tip-toeing up into
my sentry corridor about ten O'clock
to tell me that Mr.. Perkins had ar
ranged with the strikers to have spe-
cial go east with the major and Mrs.
Sheila and Collingwood's body to
catch the Overland ut Sedgwick; and I
told the boss this, and that the train
had been gone for an hour or more.
Also, l gave him sealed package
that a strange boy had brought up
just little while after May went
away. We took the elevator to the
grill-room for something to eat, and
ut table Mr.. Norcross opened. the pack
age. 1t contained bunch Of affida-
Wits, eleven of them In all, and there
was no letter or anything to tell where
they had come from.
He handed the papers over to me,
after he had seen what they were
sort of frowned across the table at me
and said: "Do you know what 1t
means-this surrender of those bribe
affidavits, JimmieT"
said / guessed did; that Hatch
being dead, and Colllngwood, too, there
wasn't nerve enough left In the Red
Tower outfit to keep up the fight; that
the surrender of the affidavits was a
kind of a plea for let-up on our
part.
"We'll begin to show them, In Just
about fifteen minutes, Jimmie" was
the short comment. "Reach over and
get that telephone and tell Mr.. Ripley
and Mr.. Billoughby that l want them
to meet me at my office Mt half-past
twelve. Any news from the strike"
Nothing" told him, while "Cen-
tral" was getting me Mr.. Ripley's num-
ber. Fired May said it was going on
just the same; everything quiet and
nothing doing, except that the wreck
ing train had gone out to pick up the
scraps at Timber Mountain " Kir-
! gan is bossing 1t, and the strikers
manned 1t for him."
Nothing more was said until after I
had sent the two phone messages, and
then the boss broke out in a new spot.
"Has anything been heard from Mr..
Van Britt?" he asked.
| "Not that know Of"
Again he gave me that queer little
scowl across the table.
Jimmie, have you found out yet
why Mr.. Van Britt insisted on quit.
ting the service"
guess ! grinned little, though
I tried not to.
"Mr. Van Britt Is one of the best
friends you've got" said. "He thought
you needed this strike, and he wanted
to go out among the payroll men and
sort of help 1t along. He couldn't do
thing like that while he was an Of.
ficer of the company and drawing his
| pay like the rest of1us."
81 might have known--he as good ms
told me-" was the reply. made kind
of half-absently; and then, short and
| quick: Flows the stock market? Have
you seen a paper"
| had seen both papers, at break
fast-time, but of course they had moth
ing startling in them except last
minute account Of the wreck at Tim
ber mountain "Y," grabbed off Just
before they went to press. They
couldn't have anything later from New
York than the day before. But Fred
May had tipped me off when he came
up to tell me .about the Major Ken
drick special. The newspaper offices
were putting out bulletins by that
time.
told Mr.. Norcross about the bul.
letlns and was brash enough to add
"We're headed for the receivership all
right, I guess; our stock has tumbled
to twenty-nine, and there's regular
dog-fght going on over 1t at the rail.
road post In the Exchange. Wall
Streets afire and burning up, so they
say"
The chief hadn't eaten enough tc
keep a cat alive, but at that he pushed
his chair back and reached for his
hat.
"Come on Jimmie" he snapped
We've got to get busy. And there
isn't going to be any receivership."
We reached the railroad headquar'
ters-which were as dead and quiet as
a graveyard--a little before Mr.. Rip
ley and Billoughby got down. Blu,
Mr.. Editor Cantrell was there. waiting
to shoot an anxious question at tho
boss.
"well. Norcross, are you ready tc
talk now7"
| "Not just yet: tomorrow. maybe