The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1935-12-13

BY Special ARRANGEMENTS With The
Chicago Trtbune-New York News Syndicate,
Incorporated
Copyright: 1884: BY Douglas Newton)
dN TWO PARTS-PART ONE)
THE SNOW had thickened by the
time Hardron had finished lunch at
st. Frail. The old, Tweedledum-
built porter at the inn did his mild
best to warn the millionaire.
You'll not be going far in this, I'm
hoping, sir"
I'm going as far as I mean to CO."
Hardron's way of answering was char
acteristic. But they did not know ST.
mon Hardron nor the iron behind his
name In this district, yet, and the por-
ter responded with a simplicity that
made the grim mouth sheer.
Heaven and its snow willing"
willing or not, I sleep at Several
tonight" Hardron said.
Several in the hills" the porter
pursed fatherly lips, squirting at the
piling snow clouds. 1--we a sore doubt
you'll not reach Several Of the hills
this day."
tive a good car" Hardron snapped.
AYE, big an strong, but with this
wind theren be drifts no machine can
master. An there's the Spenny Brook,
it'll spate under this downfall" The
pink benignant face smiled coaxingly.
you'll not want to be marooned
all night in a deep, cruel drift, will We,
sir?"
II can look after myself" Hardron
snapped.
AYE, yourself" the mild, over blue
eyes examined his harsh, gray face
with an unexpected shrewdness. "Or
think you can till you find Nature
There's your driver chap to think of,
too; he's human, anyhow, and it'll be
cold charity freezing him to death at
the price of duty"
"That1l do" snarled Hardron, who
paid chauffeurS and others for their
efficiency, not their feelings. "Shut the
door,"
"surely, and God bless you," smiled
the porter. "All the happiness of the
season go with you, sir"
He would say that, Hardron's mind
snorted. as the starting a sank
him softly into the luxury Of his
seat. He looked one of your Christ
mas keeping fools, that porter.
Or wasn't it rather the low cunning
Of the breed? Sentimentality about
Christmas meant tips for porters. They
capitalized the emotions OF the herd
keepers commercialized the Season of
Good Will" to encourage extra spend
ing on rubbishy gifts. What a land of
idiots 1t was!
Not that he minded. In a world OF
fools the hard-headed came into their
own. and he. Simon Hardron. was
harder-headed than most. He. too. had
how he could put to good use these
days of holiday that sentiment had
forced upon him. It was his orDortun-
ity to make sure Of taking Drannys
from that stubborn ass. Robert Rule.
A stupid as well as stubborn ass. this
Rule. from all Hardron could gather.
Drannys had been steadily begearing
the Rules for generations. as a mere
farming estate must: vet instead of
cutting his losses and closing with the
eood-wel1. anyhow. reasonable-offer
Hardron's lawyer had made. the man
still chung on desperately. And for no
sane excuse-merelv because the Rules
had lived and died in Drannys for 400
odd years.
Worse, Rule was still hoping against
hope that something would turn up to
save the place. and yet-and how char
acteristic of the type it was the chap
never as much as dreamed that that
Something" was even then lying under
the hills of his own northern meadows.
A farmer of a race Of farmers. he had
thought only of his sil1v roots and
Grain and cattle, while all the time a
fortune in china clay was buried under
his nose.
Well. if Rule did not know it Simon
Hardron, who had spies to inform him
of such things. did. Also. BEING SIMON
Hardron, he meant to have that clay,
for china clay was booming in the
pottery works of the world. Rrle had
refused to sell Drannys. but that did
not worry Hardron: title deeds Ann
wears old usually had flaws no1,oh in
them to give a good lauver oil the
1nopholes he wanted. Hardrnr's lowver
was practically ure that the Rules
titles were like that-if n could only
get a look at them.
Hardron was on his way to get that
look at them.
He knew he could. A Direct and
pitiless handling, such as he knew
how to MANAGE, would force al easy
going man like Rule to show his
deeds. and he wasn't Simon Hard
ron If he could not spot at once the
means Of turning the fellow ont.
The big car was climbing the first
hill now, 1urching and going slow. for
Naylor, the chauffeur, was having diff
ficulties with the deepening snow. The
wind blow was thick on the windows
and Hardron could make little Of the
country. but he thought they should
be half way to Several village bv now.
He took a map from the pocket of
the door.
They ought to be up to the Spenny
Brook soon. a mere water splash the
map made it, in spite of the porter's
prophecies.
The car lurched and stopped.
Through the arc made by the laboring
electric screen wiper, Hardron saw
brown. widespread water moving with
a secret sickness across their path.
The Spenny Brook, not quite the mere
splash he had expected. Navlor. in
fact, opened the window between them
and said ~nervously:
"1t's running pretty deep from the
1oolys of IT.. sir"