Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1925-09-02
g By the Bell Syndicate, Inc.
WNU Service


That's the trouble with you fel
lows" Leon Barrows said it thinly
sarcastically. 81 never saw man yet
who'd ever been in the army who
didn't have something to kick about.
Can't understand it. If you've got
so many kicks, why do you wear that
button?"
THAT button" Bart Rogers looked
down at his lapel, toward the star of
the American Legion which showed
there. Then, for the first time during
the Interview, he grinned. Il guess
you don't know soldiers, Mr. Barrows.
A man hasn't been in the army I'M
less he's learned to kick against every
thing in the world. That's what makes
him a fighter, because he carries
chip on his shoulder. But just be-
cause he kicks that doesn't make him
any the less patriotic"
Guess that's right. But don't like
kicking like man to take his
medicine and not make faces about
it. He halted suddenly as the tel
ephone tangled and swung about in
his chair to answer it. Hello" he
called, then leaned suddenly toward
the transmitter. BEG pardon Very
sorry, but l can't see you now. What's
that? Yes" A slight pause. Then:
About five minutes I'd say"
Bart Rogers rose.
IA client" he asked
"Yes." Leon Barrows turned back
to his desk in fretful, agitated mood
Eyes, client Coming up here in
five minutes. You'll have to get out.
Let that money thing go. Forget it.
Don't come back here trying to give
me any more money unless l send for
you. Understand? All right. Get out"
Certainly" Rogers already was at
the door. "Only l think that it would
be fair to me to tell me what this deal
is and let me know the identity of my
benefactor. I"
You'll know that when legal ethics
permit me to tell. Now get out"
The door opened and closed. A long
moment passed. while the lean-faced
attorney listened to the steps of the
young man as they faded down the
hall. Then hurriedly, almost feverish-
ly, he turned toward the telephone and
called a number, drumming excitedly
upon his desk as he awaited the an
swer. At last it came, and the at
torney leaned close to the phone
"Hello," he called in a low voice.
Couldn't talk minute ago. That
party was in here. You know the one
l mean. Now, go ahead"
Something streamed over the phone
which caused the narrow eyes OF the
thin-faced attorney to blink rapidly,
and which slowly brought a steadily
deepening flush Of color to his high
cheeks His free hand seemed to
twist and writhe. Then his eyes set,
and the color faded, giving his fea-
J lures a CHASTITY, pasty expression.
The thin lips seemed to lose them
selves in the white of his face.
"All right" came at last. 81 under
stand. You've got a little more than
an hour. That's plenty of time. Go
ahead with that proposition we've
talked overland work fast! Under
stand me? Work fast!"
A second more he remained at the
telephone, to receive his answer from
the other end. Then the receiver
clicked into place, and the tall man
leaped from his desk that he might
hurry to the window and stare into
the street below. In front of the main
election booth was a knot of men, one
of them Bart Rogers. And upon that
figure the eyes of Leon Barrows cen.
tered, eyes which suddenly had as
sumed a snakelike glitter, eyes which
had become deep-set and vicious, eyes
which spelled for the moment the true
story of the brain behind them. And
as those eyes watched the young man
below, the lean hands writhed and
twisted, twisted and writhed, one into
the other; the thin lips drew back
from heavy teeth, and the unwhole-
some face seemed suddenly to comfort
in an agony of hate, of fear-and of
victory.