The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-02-24
Continued From Page One)

DTOJeCLRQ ITOIU uIlQGI tllS lOBs eye
rolling. family groaning.
A SUDDEN angry shout from
"A above caused the sweating,
struggling loggers to lift their eyes
momentarily from the moaning
Seaman.
Lift it, you fools! You want to
tear his head OFF,"
1t was Mackenzie, the lumber
company's manager in Moosetown,
and therefore the towns most
powerful citizen A hard, rough
man, nobody ever accused MacKen-
zie of being afraid of anything. As
the men looked upward, he leaped
from the balcony, landing with
thump at their side.
Showing forward those who were
struggling with the log, Mackenzie
bent his bulk and strength to lift
it at the end. The veins stood out
in his forehead and the cords of his
neck frightened as he heaved at the
log 1t rose slowly.
Get him out, quick" painted
Mackenzie, his booted legs trem-
bling as almost the whole weight 1T
the log fell on his shoulders.
Dragging at arms and shoulders,
two men pulled Mike clear. Mac
Kenzie and the others dropped the
log with soft thud on the ground.
Mackenzie Strengthened up,
spread his broad shoulders back. He
glanced down without any express
sion at all at the silent Mike, who
lay unconscious, one man holding
his head.
Garry him over to the clubhouse
and call the Doc" directed Mac
Kenzie briefly, and strobe without
further hesitation toward his office
In the sawmill building.
TT happened often in the logging
Il country. The broken, bleeding
bodies of men were part of the
price of getting out timber"
Luigi, another lumberman, was
already off in search of the doctor.
His frightened face told of a
serious accident as he stopped men
in the street, rushed into stores,
with a breathless question, seen
DR.. Luke? DR.. Luke been here
today?"
Yes, the Doc was home, one
passerby volunteered, but the flying
Luigi was gone before there was
any answer to the startled citizens
"Why?"
The doctors modest little house
looked peaceful enough Us Luigi,
gasping for breath by now, painted
through the wire gate and up the
front walk. Beside the door was
simple gilded sign, CDR. John
Luke" On the porch lay Tobey.
the doctors dog. Luigi burst in the
front door without knocking.
He Numbered his way down
narrow hall to what he knew--and
every one in Moosetown knew-was
the doctors consultation room. And
then, despite his fear and exhaus-
ton. he stopped short at sight of a
strange tableau.
Seated in straight backed chair,
hand clutched to his jaw, sat Jim
Ogden, the constable of Moosetown.
Before him stood DR.. Luke, short,
solid man with twinkling eyes be-
hind heavy-lensed spectacles, and
gray hair standing shocked in
pompadour. He was contemplating
a pair of forcepS, in the jaws of
which was newly extracted tooth.
Biggest one this season, JIM"
Or. Luke was saying as Luigi burst
into the room.
DOC, Mike Scanlan's got both
legs smashed down at the mill!
Can you come right DOWN."
CURE" replied DR.. Luke, laying
~ down forceps and tooth. Rinse
your mouth out with this, JIM" ne
said, handing a glass of antiseptic
to Jim. Where's Mike?"
Answer, instructions, and ques-
ton blended in an even flow with
out emphasis on either. Instruments
were already going into the worn,
square black bag, coat and hat were
already finding their way to the
doctors person.
They got him down in the bunk
house" painted Luigi.
Run over to nurse Kennedy's
house and get her! Wash it out!"
The commands, issued in clipped
tones to Luigi and Jim Ogden, re-
spectively, came with equal force.
And the doctor, black bag trailing
behind him, popped out the door.
Ogden looked sourly at the glass
of antiseptic and poured it furtively
into flower pot. Then he fished
out plug of "eatin' tobacco" bit off
an enormous quid, and marched out
of the house. Tobey, the dog, looked
up placidly. He was used to these
tumultous comings and goings.
The trip to the mill was a matter
of minutes. Through the bunkhouse,
smelling of pine boards, blankets
and food. went the doctor, Luigi
trailing after. "I got him in the
mess hall, Doc" volunteered one
legged Walter, the camp handy
man. Laid him out on table
give you more room. :" The doc
tor brushed past him into the mess
hall.
On table, the lower half of his
body covered by blanket, lay Mike
Seaman, groaning, CRIME and sweat
mingling on his contorted face.
"What've you been doing to your
self, son?" queried the doctor, his
practiced fingers already at work on
the crushed legs. Trying to get
banged up so you'll have to stay
here, with me all winter"
=
MIKE writhed, and between set
1V1 teeth came his words, DOC |
I was grabbin' the boat tomor-
row >. goin' south for the win
fer