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Show SCHWAB LOSES A WILD AUTO RACE IN NEVADA i in front of the Sullivan office. Camp-, bell is a mining engineer in charge of the Sullivan properties in Manhattan. The intelligence yof the strike had reached him first, and he had come down from Manhattan, seventy miles, in two houra Sullivan was still in his office, presiding over a meeting of directors. di-rectors. .Two words from Campbell were enough, and, seizing a box of cigars ci-gars and his big automobile leather' coat, he stepped into the machine. - A short stop was made at the garage "to take oti extra tires and gasoline, and then the big machine, an eighty-horsepower auto, owned by Sullivan, buzzed out into the open country. . Forty Allies an Hour. At 2 o'clock, crossing the Amargosa river, a little stream of bitter water two Inches wide, one of the rear tires blew up. The chauffeur jacked the machine up and put in a new one -and they - went on. They passed through Beatty like lightning, midst a howling of startled dogs. At 3 o'clock they were In Khyollte. They had made eighty miles of mountain desert in three hours. There they met Chafey, the young fellow who had flashed the first news of the strike. He Informed them that he had sent on a mule team with provisions pro-visions to Stove Pipe Spring1, on the edge of Death valley. A half-hour stop was made. Breakfast was eaten. Finally they reached Stove Pipe Spring, a hole in the sand from which a little black water oozed. The mule wagon which Chafey had sent on ahead was there, driven by Mr. McCullough, a desert prospector of years' experience. They loaded up with the water from the spring for the machine, hoarding the better water for drinking, and then they went on, across the Valley of Death. A half mile on, they reached the sand-dunes, and the big machine stuck, its wheels whirring Impotently through the elusive stuff without catching. ' (Special to The Telegram.) " GOLDFIELD, Nev., June -23. Shut your, eyes and say "gold-hunting."(The vision is of an old sun-baked prospector, prospect-or, shuffling along behind a pack of dusty burros, through an endless desert. des-ert. But out here In southwestern Nevada, Neva-da, where mining is newest and most modern, there Is another kind of "gold-hunting.' the kind that is done by the "big fellowa" Rather, it should be called mine-hunting. The men that engage lh it . are looking for a mine. There are mines, and MINES. They are looking for a MINE. They know that It needa but one MINE to fix a man for life and leave something some-thing for his .descendants. That kind pf mine-hunting is not done afoot behind a file of burroa It's done In automobiles. The men that engage In It keep up an "Intelligence department," Just as do the War offices of-fices of European Governments. They have emissaries all over the gold fields plodding patiently through the desert, des-ert, "panning" in ravines, upon mountain moun-tain tops. They have emissaries in the towns, in the saloons, the gambling places fellows who can engage conversation con-versation and have good ears. In the garage close to their office is their automobile au-tomobile oiled up like a watch, laden with extra tires, gasoline, a "grub" box and water, the chauffeur lounging near. Jumps Into Auto. Comes the news of a strike. Mr. Mine Hunter grabs up his overcoat, saunters across the street to the garage, gar-age, steps into the tonneau, and he Is off. Beneath the perpendicular sun, beneath the blazing stars, through desert and oasis, mountain or sink, his big machine whirrs one day, two days, three, if necessary, till he comes to the find. He steps off and examines it. If it looks good he buys it. If not, he goes back, bootless. Bootless thus he often returns, but never impatient. For, remember, all he wants Is one MINE. It's big, noble hunting. Nearly every one of these trips is an adventure. The men of the mining districts relate them to each other as, in the middle ages, the men who stayed at home told of the hardships and deeds of the searchers for the Holy Grail. The story that is being told here now is the run made by L. M. Sullivan and "Jack" Campbell. S-hwab to the Front. From Manhattan, Sullivan and Campbell sprang 250 miles, clean across Death valley, the earth's inferno, infer-no, into the Panamint mountains on the California side, and pounced there upon a monster ledge of rich quartz, the finding of which had been dimly heralded on the wings of rumor. They got there Just in time, too. For hardly had they made a preliminary pre-liminary examination and closed the deal, when a big black auto, carrying the fortunes of Charles M. Schwab, the steel magnate, whirred into the little camp from the California side too late. Just before midnight of June 15 Campbell whizzed through the main street of Goldfleld and halted the auto "Got to Make It." "We can't make it," said the chauffeur. chauf-feur. "We've got to make it," answered Sullivan and Campbell in one breath. Before them, blue with the distance, rose the Panamlnts with the mine, the MINE that they were after. The three men got out With a shovel they cleared the sand heaped up before the wheels; they placed gunnysacks beneath the tires; then, putting their shoulders against the tonneau, they pushed and strained while the chauffeur applied full power. The wheels whizzed, caught the sacking, sack-ing, the men strained and toiled. The machine gave a Jump one foot, two feet, three! It stuck again. More shoveling, more placing of sacks under the wheels, more pushing and straining. strain-ing. The machine Jumped six feet and then stuck again. For 200 yards, foot by foot, they went thus aero the dunes. Then the sand grew deeper, and their best efforts unavailing. "Can't make It." said the chauffeur. "Got to." said Sullivan and Campbell. Camp-bell. Like a Veiled Woman. Before them, far. mysterious as a veiled woman, the Panamint range rose with its promise of golden splendor. splen-dor. They sat down upon the baking sand to consider the matter. "The mules!" exclaimed Campbell at length. "You've got it," said Sulllan. With ropes they tied the wagon to the front axle of the auto. McCullough took the reins. "Yip! Yip! Yip!" he yelled, urging the animals with voice and gesture, while the chauffeur put on full power and the men pushed from behind. The machine vibrated, it jumped up and down in Its tracks. There was a crash, and the mules started forward at a gallop, dragging McCullough with them, while the auto au-to remained In place, immovable as a rock. The whlffle-tree had broken. 100 De Forrest Wireless stock at $2.00. Will be glad to receive a bid, as stocK must be sold at owe. This stock is transferable. E. M. West & Co. 'Phone 165 327 D. F. Walker Blk. Auto Pulled Out. With the handle of a pick. Campbell Camp-bell and Sullivan improvised a new one. Then they hitched the mules directly di-rectly to the autu. There was a sharp struggle. The mules tugged, the men pushed, the wheels whirred through the yielding sand. The auto began to move, an Inch, a foot. The men panted. The wheels began to take hold, the machine gave a Jump, and rolled forward. For 100 yards it went. Then (lie mules stopped, exhausted, and then uen rolled over, half dead. The perpendicular per-pendicular sun fell upon them like drops of molten lead. The shimmering shimmer-ing sand caught the heal and threw it back to the sun. which promptly poured it down again, till earth, sky and air pulsated with blinding glow. But ahead, far. mysterious, the Panamlnts Pana-mlnts rose with their purple promise of riches. "Let's go on," said Sullivan. They went on. For seven miles, by hundred-yard stretches, they heaved the machine over the sand. And finally final-ly thev struck hard ground. Wild Race Is Won. They held a conference, and then decided upon taking a wild chance. With only the chauffeur in It. the auto was backed far up the grade it had come down. The rest of the men spread along the path through the marsh, ready for any emergency. Sullivan dropped his handkerchief for a signal, and the machine started down the hill. Right away the chautteur put on full speed. The steel Haps in front opened like wings. Down she came aroar, like a meteor from the skies. An Involuntary cry came from the men In the marsh as she bore down upon them. She cleared the first hundred hun-dred feet as If with one spring. The men alongside, frenzied, threw their coats, their hats, their shirts, beneath be-neath the wheels, and slowly, inch by Inch, she at length rose upon the hard ground. Again In working order, the auto pumped slowly up the remainder of the grade, and at midnight rolled into the little camp at Emigration Springs. Even then it was not time to rest. Afoot the party climbed over the hills, and Just at sun-up they were standing upon a monstrous outcropping of gold-bearing gold-bearing quartz, the MINE so desperately desper-ately won. Taking samples here and there, they returned to camp, "panned" them, and there and then, Sullivan, Chafey and the prospectors closed the deal. Hardly had this been done when the puff-puff of an auto drew them outside of the tent. Slowly, painfully, a crippled automobile was rolling In from the other side of the mountains. Campbell recognized the man In the auto. a confidential agent of Charles M. Schwab, the great steel magnate. The race had been won, and Just won. . |