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Show Tbe Great IioiiCicQS A Christmas Storu Harry Irving Greene T WAS upon one of those ? T good old daya of nearly j 13 four hundred years ago , Ja .f when that prince of bold buccaneers, Cortez, was grinding Mexico under his Iron heels and sending his ships back laden with treasures, treas-ures, and while all Spain was ringing like a bell to the tune of his deeds, that tthe beginning of the circumstances cir-cumstances happened. As to whether the ending was due to a near miracle or pure chance each must take his choice, but the way it all happened hap-pened was like this : Carlos de Mont-bar, Mont-bar, grown old and gray as a silver fox In adventures upon land and sea and adventures upon land and sea nnd listening with his ear to the ground the better to hear the rumbles' from afar, arose saying to himself : "Cortez 1 Who, then, is he Jto be a worker of marvels which I cannot do? True, he has shaken the tree of conquest con-quest first and many golden apples have fallen into his helmet, but in his haste has he Lot left as many more behind? I will follow in his steps, and with much less trouble than befell be-fell bim gather those he has left behind, be-hind, also becoming rich and famous. I will take my two ships, summon my men and sail to this land of gold." And thus having determined he assembled as-sembled his crews, after which he sought out the good padre Ferdinand. "Father," he said. "I have two as good ships as ever broke a waVe and There Came a Mighty Tug Upon the Cable. crews of whom even Satan himself is afraid. We are to sail to the wonderful won-derful land of Mexico and fill our holds with its treasures. But there will be storms to overcome, dying comrades com-rades to minister to and proper prayers for our success to be said, therefore we cannot sail without a priest. Be one of us as our holy advisor ad-visor and your share shall be next to mine." The priest smiled up at him. "Yes, you will need a priest, and therefore I will go. But it is not the gold of these heathens that I wish, but merely their souls. May I claim them as my share?" Montbar laughed loudly. "As many as you can get. But how do you plan to snare such cunning things?" "Listen and I will tell. Upon some mountain top from whence it may be seen from afar your men must build me a great mission. In front of this mission I will place a great magic lure, so that all seeing it shall be drawn closer. And once I have them before it I shall talk to them of the true faith until one by one they shall embrace it that Christ may receive them. Thus in my keeping will be their souls. Am I not crafty, also?" Montbar slapped his thigh. "Wondrous so, Father, and it is a good bargain for both of us the souls for you and the gold for me. But what Is to be the magic lure?" I "That, my son, you shall know In good time. You say you sail in a fortnight. Upon the morning of ycur I depnrture you must send me 40 of ' your men to convey it to the ship. . You promise that?" "As many as you wish," Montbar agreed. j And when the day of sailing came and 40 straining men hauled aboard ' one of the ships a great cross made of iron, Montbar walked about it In much ive. "By all the saints, Father," he said as he crossed himself, "yon nave come prepared to convert a universe." "If the better the day the better the deed, why may it not as well be that the greater the emblem the greater the good?" Whereupon they made sail and disappeared dis-appeared adown the western horizon. And from that day nearly 400 years ago until but a few months ago no eye of man saw sign or trace of them. Up the Gulf of Mexico the oil barge Crescent came wallowing like a pig in the trough of burly, rough and tumble seas that ran over her like the slathering slath-ering tongues of monstrous brutes gone mad. Deep down in her the old engines clanked and wheezed, while McArdle, the engineer, scratched his head dubiously as he watched their spasmodic laborings. "And while by the grace of the Lord they may last the trip out, I sometimes misdoubt It," he muttered. "For at any minute are they liable to fly to flinders like the wond'rus old one-horse shay." And fly to pieces they did. With the report of a gun a connecting pin snapped asunder, and the next instant its rod had jammed, while with the roar of a cannon a cylinder head went crashing through a bulkhead. In an instant the engine room was deluged with live vapor, but with one thrust of his arm the engineer shut off the steam and half fainting from his scalds went working his way forward between be-tween seas to the bridge where Captain Cap-tain Travers was cllngtng in a smother of spume. "And its gone to glory they have, sir," he reported, with a death's head grin. Gray of face, Travers pointed point-ed to the bar of Madre de la Laguna with Its spouting foam a few miles under their lee. "Then so have we along with them. Our anchor will never hold on this bottom, and we'll all eat Christmas dinner tomorrow in Davy Jones' locker." lock-er." Reverently McArdle drew a small cross from his pocket, kissed it and replaced it while the captain looked on silently. "It will take a bigger crpss than that to save us," he announced grimly. The engineer straighted his pain-twisted face. "That nay be, sir. Tet big and small, that same token has saved many a man and 'tis my belief it will save many another. Leastwise, 'tis our only hope." Down to his own cabin he went creeping In search of oil and bandages. All night long the Crescent, plunging plung-ing backward against her restraining cable as a wild horse bucks against its tether, dragged the anchor closer and closer to the seething bar where she must break her back, casting then all into a seething pot, where neither man nor boat could survive a minute. At dawn of Christmas morning, with destruction de-struction but an hour away. Captain Travers summoned his men before him. He pointed an ominous finger at the roaring bar now but a cable's length away. "My friends," said he. "In an hour from now it will all be over. This will be our last Christmas day. We have but little time in which to say our last words. Therefore, what shall they be?" From somewhere among the despairing dozen the hoarse voice of the engineer arose in a croaking attempt at-tempt at song. "To the cross I cling" One by one they joined their voices In a ragged accompaniment of chorus that was torn from their lips by the hurricane hurri-cane to be lost in the veil of the surf upon the bar. And as their last words ceased there came a mighty tug upon the cable as if some giant of the depths inconceivably vast had seized the anchor and was holding the ship fast against the drift. And as they saw that it dragged no more they looked at each other, first in amazement, amaze-ment, then with the joy of men snatched from the very Jaws of death by-a miracle. "The anchor has found its grip and is holding," they told each other. But that such good fortune could long continue con-tinue each had but little faith. Yet 24 hours later when the sea had calmed they still found themselves riding in safety. Then they gave the steam winch full power and gradually the anchor came to the surface, still holding in Its grip the object which it had found nnd fastened itself to so desperately. And as the crew burning with curiosity bent over the rail to gaze upon the mysterious thing which had preserved them, and which foot by foot was being dragged from Its bed of sand, they saw rising through the waters In the anchor's grip a great object blackened and lncrusted by the waters of the sea, a monstrous iron cross such as it might tuke 40 strong men to carry. (Copyright. 1916, Wentern Newsparw !Tntj |