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78    ABBOTT'S MONTHLY

Call of the Heart—(Continued from page 67)

Tari, with the greater part of the natives, hastened through the bamboo reeds toward the other side of the screen. Its circuitous outline extended more than two hundred yards like the palm of a mighty hand. In a line all along the extremities he concealed his men. He had an army stationed, as it were, on the very finger tips from the thumb, that was held by Peter, to the little finger. And along the little finger he was placing the last of his men.

The Terrible One's army of about five hundred men bore down swiftly toward Peter's one hundred poorly equipped men. Peter did not know whether or not Tari was ready, but he could not wait. The first end of the enemy's long line was almost opposite him. He gave the signal to fire.

An insignificant patter of shots was the result. The enemy scarcely paused, dashing onward through the shallow water before the thickets. They came on as if it had been only the trivial shots of a few natives who could do nothing to stop them. Peter realized that the advanced line of the enemy would soon pass the thickets—and out of serious danger.

Then, suddenly, down the other side of the screen the ancient firearms burst into action with a volley of telling shots. Instantly there was disorder in the enemy's ranks. A steady stream of fire from all along the edges of the screen was cutting down the Terrible One's men.

THE natives had quickly gotten rid of their excitement and first fright. Hidden in the thickets, they kept up a deadly line of fire against the enemy, attempting to form a firing line, was shooting blindly into the shrubs. At last the frantic men tried to retreat. In vain. For they met disaster all the way along the bamboo-fringed shore.

Soon the narrow beach was lined with dead bodies. The Terrible One's men, like trapped animals, were desperately seeking some way to escape. Men dropped their rifles and ran out into the deep water; but the sharp eyes of the natives found them. And a short time afterwards only a few men still remained. Only several Chinese were left, and they somehow escaped, fleeing through the thickets. 

Peter walked out into the open. One of his men made the tom-tom beats on his drum, and the natives rushed from the thickets. Tari and his men marched down the shore to Peter.

"We be safe," Tari said breathlessly. "I see The Terrible One fall to the sea ... I send some men to see-they see nothing at the other end of the island. No, they see one little thing. They see the Chinese man set the houses with fire. He get his canoe-and he paddle away for the wide sea."

"Well, anyway, it's all over," Peter answered, "and we've lost only a few men."

The dead would be given a sea-burial, at sunset. So the natives marched homeward, with the tom-tom beating of drums. They were heralding the glad tidings of victory, proclaiming it to the people down the island, who waited with intense fear and anxiety.

FROM everywhere in the village came happy women and children, and old men. It appeared to Peter that more than two thousand natives lifted their voices in songs of rejoicing. He had never before seen or heard anything like this unbounded expression of joy and thanksgiving. Slowly he and Tari pushed their way through the pressing crowds, and went up the land toward the armory.

Chief Ouma Ati was standing in the wide doorway of the palace. At his side stood Tina and Rita, their faces aglow with delight and adoration. The Chief came forward and embraced Peter and Tari. Peter heard him say a few words of praise, and after which he went back into the palace. 

Then Peter saw the beautiful Tina approaching, coming to him in a rush. She wore a pretty yellow costume that clung revealingly to the graceful curves of her young body. Her long black hair fell over her tan shoulders in delightful waves. And the garland of yellow flowers on her head emitted a strong, fragrant odor. Peter was painfully aware that she was lovelier than ever, lovely in her irresistible way. 

"You drive The Terrible One into the sea," she murmured, smiling shyly. "Now it's for you to choose that you wish."

And then it occurred to Peter that, according to certain native customs, a young man who accomplished some mighty deed, in war or in peace, was supposed to choose for himself one of the most beautiful maidens of the kingdom.
"I don't know what I want yet," Peter lied glibly.
TINA looked at him, sadly. Her large black eyes had become solemn, and she could not prevent the shy smile from trembling on her pale-red lips. 

"It is past time for the ship to come from Tahiti," she said gravely."Do you go away from us-with the ship?"

"Haven't made up my mind," Peter answered. "But maybe I'll stay a while, anyway," he added, looking around for Rita. 

She was standing in the doorway of the palace, talking to Tari. Her cute little blonde head was shaking with laughter. And anyone could see by the expression on Tari's face that he was deeply touched by the things she was saying to him.
But Peter had known for a long time that Rita Eaton was not the girl in the case, the girl he was going to consider, as he mapped out the course which his life would take in the future.... The girl in Tahiti... the baby had black wavy hair. ...Memories that you couldn't just disregard, no matter how hard you tried. ...
***
ONLY a few fleeting clouds are in the sky. The illuminating power of the moon is at its best. The ocean is calm, and a ship ploughs her way through a silver path over the dark ocean desert. Now fleecy clouds
(Continued on page 85) 




for MAY, 1931         79

Unsung - (Continued from page 18)

safety was his trust on that night thought of the man whose task it was to keep their city out of darkness. Only his wife seemed to know or to care anything about his own safety. 

As Joe stepped from the house he instinctively glanced up at the sky. There was not a star to be seen. A heavy cloud hung low over the heavens and a strong wind was blowing from the sea. In the distance he heard the low rumble of thunder and the dark sky was periodically lightened by intermittent lightning. All nature seemed to prophesy an approaching storm. 

"Not so good for a man like me on a night like tonight," thought Joe. "Rain and my kind of work don't mix."

Hardly had the thought formed itself when a few drops began to fall. 

"Lucky for me," he mused, "that I have my old corduroy suit on. That will keen the rain out of my bones."

JOE worked first in the downtown section. He shivered as he made the rounds of the battery. The wind was forcing in heavy waves from the sea and they were breaking against the walls of The Battery with a vengeance.

"Sorry for those poor devils who are out at sea," thought Joe.

The city slept. True enough, there were a few stragglers - business and pleasure had kept them out until early morning. It was for their safety that Joe was responsible. 

As he passed St. Michael's the rain was coming down in torrents. It was finding its way in the worn places of his suit and was drenching him to the skin. With the rain came cold. Joe shivered more as the tried to pull his clothing more closely around him. 

"Nasty night," he muttered, "glad I don't have much more of this. If that old light at the Citadel Green is burning, everything will be okay. I asked them to have it fixed." 

The bell in St. Michael's struck one. Joe had never missed hearing that particular stroke, but tonight it seemed to portend something ominous. Joe shuddered. He thought of the rain that caused him to be melancholy. Up Meeting Street he went, on past the City Market. Everything there was all right. 

BEFORE he reached the Citadel Green, Joe knew that something was wrong. Everything was in total darkness which was deepened by the drenching billows that poured from the heavens. 

Joe knew his business. He went over to the post and attached his extension rope. Pulling the hook from the bolt, he began to lower away. Something gave way. The lamp crashed to the street. A wire had broken. In the darkness he could only feel his way about in his effort to fix it. He knew that he could not leave it to menace the lives of any chance passerby.

Joe caught up the loose wire in an effort to attach it. Scarcely had he touched it when he must have stepped on the other wire. With all the force of its heavy voltage, the circuit thus completed threw him against the post. He did not know how long he lay there. When he came to he remembered immediately what had happened.

"Can fall down on the job now," he thought. "Got to fix that wire somehow." 

He tried to stand, but his legs would not support him.

"My God!" he exclaimed, "my legs are broken. Well, a thing like that can't stop me."

HE dragged himself along the ground and attached the wire to the lamp. Once more he dragged himself to the post and found the rope. He began to pull, fearing that at any moment the lamp would crash down again. He was panting when he could pull the rope no more. Tying the loose end of the rope around the post, he pulled himself up to hook the hook over the bolt. The effort nearly carried him under. Pain was stabbing him all over. He attached the hook, then . . . darkness.

When they found him early the next morning, he was lying in a pool of water. The newspaper carried an account of the "accident" that the colored light tender had. It announced that his act probably was the means of saving several lives.

But the Great Reporter was to write the final chapter to Joe's heroism. He never walked again. For several years he dragged himself around on crutches and then he passed on to another life.

"Well," he smiled, just before the end, "I've been faithful to my company. I did my duty."

[[boxed]]
Statement of the Ownership, Management, Circulation, Etc., required by the Act of Congress of August 24, 1912, of Abbott's Monthly, published monthly at Chicago, Illinois, for April 1, 1931.
State of Illinois County of Cook } ss.
Before me, a Notary Public in and for the State and county aforesaid, personally appeared Encil F. Simpson, who having been duly sworn according to law, deposes and says that he is the Business Manager of the ABBOTT'S MONTHLY, and that the following is, to the best of his knowledge and belief, a true statement of the ownership, management (and if a daily paper, the circulation), etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shown in the above caption, required by the Act of August 24, 1912, embodied in section 411, Postal Laws and Regulations, printed on the reverse of this form, to wit:
1. That the names and addresses of the publisher, editor, managing editor, and business managers are:
Publisher - THE ROBERT S. ABBOTT PUB. CO., 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill. 
Editor - ROBERT S. ABBOTT, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill. 
Managing Editor - LUCIUS C. HARPER, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
Business Manager - Eneil F. Simpson, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
2. That the owner is: (If owned by a corporation, its name and address must be stated and also immediately thereunder the names and addresses of stockholders owning or holding one per cent or more of total amount of stock. If not owned by a corporation, the names and addresses of the individual owners must be given. If owned by a firm, company, or other unincorporated concern, its name and address, as well as those of each individual member, must be given.)
THE ROBERT S. ABBOTT PUB. CO., 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
ROBERT S. ABBOTT, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
NATHAN K. MCGILL, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
BENOTE H. LEE, 3435 Indiana Ave., Chicago, Ill.
3. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding 1 per cent or more of total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: (If there are none, so state.)
NONE.
4. That the two paragraphs next above, giving the names of the owners, stockholders, and security holders, if any, contain not only the list of stockholders and security holders as they appear upon the books of the company but also, in cases where the stockholder or security holders appears upon the books of the company as trustee or in any other fiduciary relation, the name of the person or corporation for who such trustee is acting, is given; also that the said two paragraphs contain statements embracing affiant's, full knowledge and belief as the circumstances and conditions under which stockholders and security holders who do not appear upon the books of the company as trustees, hold stock and securities in a capacity other than that of a bona fide owner; and this affiant has no reason to believe that any other person, association, or corporation has any interest direct or indirect in the said stock, bonds, or other securities than as so stated by him. 
5. That the average number of copies of each issue of this publication sold or distributed, through the mails or otherwise, to paid subscribers during the six months preceding the date shown above is ............ (This information is required from daily publications only.)
ENEIL F. SIMPSON,
Business Manager.
Sworn to and subscribed before me this 21st day of March, 1931.
[SEAL] GENEVIEVE L. WIMP.
(My commission expires Nov. 5, 1932)
[[/boxed]]

that his act probably was the means of saving several lives. 

But the Great Reporter was to write the final chapter to Joe's heroism. He never walked again. For several years he dragged himself around on crutches and then he passed on to another life.

"Well," he smiled, just before the end, "I've been faithful to my company. I did my duty."






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