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Show y,, j In the Days of Poor Richard By IRVING BACIIELLER j 1 Copyrijlu lr IRVING baci m I m I AMERICA IN THE MAKING Irvinif lliu-holliT. In tils new novt'l, "In tlut liiy.H uf I'viur' lvk'lmi-il." Iuih wrlttrn II Hlniy of AintTU'ii In tho mttUliiK of tlm I'nlttM Stulr In llu ll:lH of lu-ii-Janiln t-'runU II n. It iti il Mtory wltli a (Kuihlo Hpp'ul. too is to tlie rcioli r In Nrnirh of t'uirtuln-mMit. t'uirtuln-mMit. Hltu-o thiTe Im ll fiLst'lnullii ltvi niiiiy In ll. spH'rtl wlili ml-'iMUnr ml-'iMUnr :uu! llKlilln. '1'lilH In Ihf lovo-in:iklnK uf Jin-U Irons, a younrt f in n 1 1 1' rs in n n . n ml M u i ri-t lLir.-. tho il:iiiKlii'r of an Kiik1I.Oi i'(liin-l. Tlut otlu-r uppi'ul Ih to tilt' KOOll AllUM'll'lllI wlui Is liilir- esli'il In his coiinlrvH tilsiury. Krnnklin Is (ho ilonilniillim i'h:ir-ni'tor i'h:ir-ni'tor of tho slmy ninl us till Kooil AintTliMns know or slionlil know ho was tiltnmn. ciikiikIiik uiol I tovnhlo lioi niul llu no' i.suri' of ' most of tlu ri-al inpn of Ilia elay. Anil thrr wero Klants In thoso days, not tho lousl of whnnl was Krunklln. '1'ho roiulor K'ts vlvl.l pllmpsps nt hlstotii' niomonls of our Aniorli'an Klants Washington. Washing-ton. Hamilton, Ailains. JofTorMin anil this rest. ls woll ns sni'li ai'-tora ai'-tora In tho ilrama of nation-making ns Aiulro anil lUoioillot Arnold. Il oiuls with n tlno pli-turo of l'oor Uli'tian) In t.ls last itaya ut-torlnK ut-torlnK those hoinoly iihllosoiihles whloh art) both historic anil classic. CHAPTER I The Horae Valley Adventure. "The first time 1 saw the boy, Jack Irons, he was ahout nine years old. I was in Sir William Johnson's camp of mai;nllK'eIit Mohawk warriors at Al-tiany. Al-tiany. Jaek w as so active and successful success-ful In the iratncs, between the red ho s and the white, that the Indians called him 'Boiling Water." His lau'h ami tireless spirit reminded me of a mountain moun-tain brook. There was no lad. near his nee. who could run so fast, or Jump so far, or shoot so well with the bow or the ritle. I carried him on my back to his home, he urt;itiK me on as If 1 had heen a battle horse and when we were come to the house, lie ran about doin his chores. I helped him. and. our work accomplished, we went down - to the river for a sw im, and to my ' surprise, I found him n H-cll-tniuht ! tish. We became friends and always , when I have thought of him. the words i Happy Face have come to me. It was. i 1 think, a better nickname than T.nil- Ir.s Water,' although there was mm h propriety In the latter. I knew ihc.t his enerjry f.ivn to labor would accomplish ac-complish much and when 1 left him, 1 repeated the words whlih my father had often quoted in my hcarinu't " 'Seest tnou n man diligent In his colling? He shall stand before kins''" This glimpse of John Irons. Jr. fa-! fa-! mlliarly known as Jack Irons is from n letter of Benjamin Franklin to his wife. Nothinp further Is recorded of his boyhood until, nhout eiitlit years later, what was known as the "Horse Valley Adventure" occurred. A full account of It follows with due regard for background back-ground and color: "tt was the season o' the great moon." said old Solomon I'.inkus. scout and Interpreter, as he leaned over the camplire and Hirked a co.il out of the ashes with his forefinger and twiddled It up to his oipe howl. In the army he was known us "old Solomon Cinkus," not by reason of his a-e. for he was only about thirty-eight, but as a mark of deference. Those who followed fol-lowed 1) I m in the bush had a faith in his wisdom that was childlike. "I had had my feet in u pair o' sieves walklu tlie white sea a fortnight," he went jn. "The dry water were six foot on the level, er mehhe more, an' some o' the waves up to the tree-tops, an' nobody no-body with me but this ere ol' Mnrier Zunv (his rifle) the hull trip to t lie Swegache country. Gol' ding my piitur'! It seemed as If the wind were n-try'n' fer to rub It off the siaie. It were a pes'".' wind that kep' n-ciiflin' me an' whlstiin' in the briers on my face an' crnekin" my coat-tails. coat-tails. I were lonesiuni1- lonesoiuer'n a he-hear an' the cold g.alihin' holt o' ail ends o' me so us I had to stop an' argue 'bout whar my bound'ry-lines bound'ry-lines was located like I were York Ktnte. Cat's blood an' gunpowder! 1 ;iad to kick an' scratch to keep my nose an' toes from frit tin' briit'e." At tills point, Solomon l:in!;us paused to give his words a chance "to sink in." The silence which followed was broken only by the crack of burning burn-ing faggots and the sound of the night wind in the tall lines above the gorge. Ilefore Mr. 'Ilinkus resumes his narrative, nar-rative, which, one might know by the tilt of bis bend and the look of his wide open, right eye, would soon happen, hap-pen, the historian seizes the opportunity oppor-tunity of finishing his Introduction. He bad been the best scout in the army of Sir JelTrey Amherst. As a small boy he had been captured by the S 'n-ecas 'n-ecas and held In the tribe a year and two months. Karly In the French and Indian war, lie had been caught by Algonquins and tied to a tree and tortured by hatchet throwers until rescued res-cued by a French captain. After that his opinion of Indians had been, probably, prob-ably, a bit colored by prejudice. Still later he had been n harpooner In n whale boat, and In his young manhood, man-hood, one of those who had escaped the Infamous massacre at Fort Wil liam Henry when Knglisli forces, having hav-ing been captured and disarmed, were turned loose and set upon by the savages, sav-ages, lie wim n tall, brawny, broad-shouldered, broad-shouldered, homely-faced man of thirty-eight with a ltoiuan nose and a prominent chin underscored by a short sandy throat beard. Some of the ad ventures had put their mark upon his weathered face, shaven generally once a week above the chin. Tho top of his left ear was missing. There was a long scar upon his foivhoad. These were like the notches on the stock of his rl He. They were a sign of the stories of ailveiil lire to be found In t lint wary, watchful brain of his. Johnson enjoyed Ids reports on account ac-count of their humor and color and he describes him In a letler to l'miiani as a man who ''when he Is much interested, inter-ested, looks as If he were taking aim with his rl lie." To sotn? It seemed that one eye of Mr. I'.inkus was often drawing conclusions wttlle the other was engaged with the no less Important Impor-tant function of discovery. Ills companion was young Jack Irons a big lad of seventeen, who lived In a fertile valley some llfty miles northwest north-west of Fort Stanwlx, In Tryon county. coun-ty. New York. Now, In September, ITiis, they were traveling ahead of a band of Indians bent on mischief. The latter, a few days before, hail come down Lake Ontario and were out In the bush somewhere between the lake and the new settlement In Horse valley. val-ley. Solomon thought that they were probably llurons, since hoy, being discontented dis-contented with the treaty made by the French, had again taken the war-path. This Invasion, however, was n wholly unexpected bit of audacity. They had two captives the wife and daughter of Colonel Hare, who Im'1 been spending spend-ing a few weeks with Major iMinean and his Fifty-fifth regiment, at Oswego. Os-wego. The colonel had taken these ladies of bis family on a hunting trip In the bush. They had bad two guides with them, one of whom was Solomon I'.inkus. The men had gone out In the "OTmE two mad J fff&tifjj) A set our lAI x1- early evening after mouse and Imprudently Im-prudently left the huhes In camp, where the latter had heen captured. Having returned, the scout knew that the only possible explanation for the absence of the ladies was Indians, nl-' though no peril could have been more unexpected. He had discovered by "the sign" that It was a large band traveling eastward. He had set out by night to gel ahead ef them whllL' Hare and his other guide started for the fort. Itinkus knew every mile of the wilderness and had canoes hidden near Its bigger waters. He had crossed the lake, on which his party bad been camping, and the swamp at the east end of It and was soon far ahead of the marauders. A little after daylight, he had picked up the hoy. Jack Irons, at a hunting camp on I'.ig Deer creek, as It was then called, and the two had set out together to warn the people In Horse valley, where Jack lived, and to get help for a battle with the savages. It will be seen by his words that Mr. Binkus was n man of Imagination, hut au-ain he Is talking. "I were on my way to a big Injun f'ow-wow at Swegache fer Sir Bill-ayes Bill-ayes it we'.'e in Feh'uar.v, the time o' the great moon o' the hard snow. I found a heap o' Injuns nt Swegache Mohawks, Spnckys, ' Onnndogs an' Al-gonks. Al-gonks. They had been swappin' presents pres-ents an' speeches witli the French. Just a little while afore they had bad a hellerin' match with us 'bout love an' friendship. Then suddenlike they tuk it in their heads that the French had a sharper hatchet than the English. I were sheered, hut wh?n I see that they was nobody drunk. I pushed right into the big village an' asked fer the old Senecky chief Bear Face know-in' he were thar an' said I had a letter from the Big Father. They tuk me to him. "I give him a chain o' wampum an' then read the letter from Sir Bill. It offered the Six Nations more land an' a fort, an' a regiment to defend 'em. "A powerful lot o' Injuns trailed back to Sir Bill, but they was a few - went over to the French. I kind o' mistrust lliar's some o' them niniiy-gades niniiy-gades behind us. They're 'speclln' to git a loi o' plunder an' a horse apiece an' ride 'em back an' swim the rivet at the place o' the many .Islands. 'We'll poke down to the trail on the edge o' the drowinleil hinds afore sunrise sun-rise an' I kind o' mistrust we'll see sign." Jack Irons was n son of the much-respected much-respected John Irons fro in New Hampshire Hamp-shire who, In the fertile valley where he had settled some years before, was breeding horses for the army and send lug (hem down to Sir Wliiiam Johnson Hi nee the site of his farm had beer, called Horse valley. Mr. I'.inkus went to the near brook and repeatedly tilled his old felt hat wllh water and poured It on the lire, "l'on't never keep no lire a-goln' a'ler I'm dried out," he whispered, us be stepped buck Into tie; dark cave, " 'cause ye never kin tell." The hoy was asleep on the bed of boughs. Mr. I'.inkus covered hlin with the blanket and lay down beside him and drew Ids coat over both. "He'll learn that It ain't no fun to he a scout," he whispered with a yawn and In n moment was snoring. It was blink dark when he roused his companion. Solomon had been up for ten minutes, and had got their rations ra-tions of bread and dried venison out of his paek and brought a canteen of fresh water. They started down the foot of the gorge then dljn In the night shadows. Binkus stopped, now and then, to listen lis-ten for two or three seconds and went on with long stealthy strides. Ills movements were panther-like, and the boy Imitated them. He was n tall, handsome, big-framed lad with blond hair and blue eyes. They could soon see their way clearly. They hurried through sloppy footing In the wet grass that flung lis dew Into their garments from the shoulder down. Suddenly Mr. Binkus stopped. They could hear the sound of heavy feet splashing In the wet meadow. "Scairt moose, runnln' this way!" the scout whlspi-red. "I'll bet ye a pint o' powder an' a fishhook them Injuns In-juns It over east o' here." It was his favorite wager that of a pint of powder nnd n fishhook. They came out upon high ground and reached the valley trail Just as the sun wns rising. The fog hail lifted. Mr. I'.inkus stopped well away from the trsll and listened for some minutes. min-utes. He nppro.'iched It slowly on his tiptoes, the boy following In a like manner. For a moment the scout stood at the edge of the trail In silence. si-lence. Then, leaning low. he examined It closely and quickly raised his hand. "Hoofs o' the devil!" lie whispered ns he beckoned to the boy. "See thar," he went on, pointing to the ground. "They've Jest gone by. The grass ain't riz ylt. Wait here." He followed the trail a few rods with eyes bent upon It. Near n little run where there was soft dirt, he stopped again nnd looked Intently nt the earth nnd then hurried back. "It's a big band. At least forty Injuns In-juns In it an' some- captives, an' the devil and Tom Walker. It's a mess which they ain't no mistake." "I'm afraid my folks are In danger," said the hoy as he changed color. "Kr mehhe I'eter Boneses' 'cordln' to the way they gc. We got to cut erounil 'em an' plow straight through the bush an' over Cobble hill an' we'll heat 'em easy." It wns a curious, long, loose stride, the knees never quite straightened, with which the scout made his way through the forest. It covered ground so swiftly that the bny had, now and then, to break Into a dog-trot In order to keep along with the old. woodsman. They kept their pace up the steep side of Cobble hill and down its far slope nnd the valley beyond to the shore of the Big creek. "I'm hot 'nough to siz:de an' smoke when I tech water," said the scout as he waded In. holding his ritle nnd powder-horn in his left hand above the creek's surface. They had a few strokes of swimming swim-ming nt midstream, but managed to keep their powder dry. "An' ol' Red Snout went down like a steer under the ax." (TO EE CONTINUED.) |