The Jacksboro Gazette (Jacksboro, Tex.), Vol. 63, No. 13, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 27, 1942 Page: 3 of 8
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THE STORY SO FAR: Jeff Curtis and
his wife, Lee, are on their way to Tlerra
Libre when Jeff receives a note from
Zora Mitchell warning them not to come.
Later he learns from Jerry Mclnnis that
Zora’s husband has been murdered and
that it Is his Job as chief engineer for a
fruit company that Jeff has been called
to fill. When they arrive In Tlerra
Libre, Jerry tells Jeff there is something
strange going on. Jeff and Lee meet
Montaya, Jeff’s employer, and go with
him to San Alejo, where Montaya teUs
them that Zora Mitchell has “committed
suicide.” Neither Jeff nor Lee believes
that her death was suicide. Zora, they
agree, was not the type to commit
suicide. Jeff suspects Montaya of ar-
ranging, or at least of knowing about
both Zora’s and her husband’s death.
NOW CONTINUE WITH THE STORY
CHAPTER IV
Every day was a new day at San
Alejo, fresh and cool and clean at
dawn no matter what the blazing
sun might bring later. Even the
asphalt underfoot was toned up by
the dew as Curt swung along for
his early appointment with Montaya.
Curt’s mind should have been toned
up, too, by the tangy air so much
like a Fall morning at home, but
his last words to Lee just now—he’d
read the pucker between her eyes—
were still in his ears.
“Don’t you be worrying about
Zora Mitchell,” he’d told her. “I
admit suicide doesn’t sound like her,
but we hadn’t seen her for six years
and that length of time will work
changes in any of us.”
“It was her little girl I was think-
ing of,” Lee had answered him so-
berly.
“I’ll find out about her.”
Curt made his way to Montaya’s
office, a high-ceilinged room pan-
eled and furnished in unvarnished
whitewood. An impression of cool-
ness was heightened by Venetian
blinds and a grass rug.
Curt came to the point before
Senor Montaya could broach busi-
ness. He said, suggestively, “The
news of Mrs. Mitchell’s death was a
considerable shock to us—to my wife
and me.”
Montaya looked at him in silence
as though the words needed elabora-
tion.
“I mean, we should hardly have
expected suicide of Zora Mitchell,
especially as she was leaving a
small child.”
“Nor did I expect it.” The senor
made this statement as a sort of
admission. He fumbled among pa-*
pers on his desk, bringing forth two
large square envelopes.
From one he spread several pho-
tographs before Curt. They showed,
from different angles, Zora Mitchell
slumped over in a bamboo “pea-
cock” chair, her head at a curious
angle. There was a bullet-hole in
her left temple, and blood had run
from the wound, coagulated, stained
her dress.
Her left hand, hanging over the
arm of the chair, held a gun Curt
recognized as a Luger. A Luger!
he thought instantly. Funny!
Where’d she get that?
He recalled how Mitchell had al-
ways favored a Colt .45 against all
foreign makes of small arms.
Another question forced itself on
Curt’s mind. Why hadn’t the physi-
cal shock relaxed Zora’s fingers and
made her drop the gun?
“Now, in the case of her hus-
band, we had no chance to obtain
photographs on the ground. The
body was moved to Tempujo. But
we did the best we could. I had
sketches made.”
From the second envelope Mon-
taya spread out these sketches, and
with them a map marked with an
X and two photographs of the body
as it lay on the flat handcar.
“An inquest was held, of course,
as in the case of Mrs. Mitchell.
Both—ah, incidents were quite prop-
erly handled by our local police. We
have a comandancia here, another
at Tempujo.”
The sketches and the map were
valueless, but the photographs . . .
Curt picked up one of them. The
picture was sickening, the body
slashed and mutilated beyond recog-
nition. Many of the cuts were clean,
however, and something about these
clean cuts rang a bell in Curt’s mind.
Yet the reason didn’t at once click
—that cuts which didn’t bleed had
to be made after death, after the
blood stops coursing in the body.
“What about their little girl?” he
asked. “Only five,.isn’t she?”
“Ah, but it is sad about her. Poor
little thing. We have her at the
hospital for the present, where the
nurses can look after her. I am
trying to get in touch with relatives
in the States.”
Montaya stacked the photographs
and sketches, replaced them in their
envelopes. He drew from his pocket
an oversize cigarette case and
tamped against the lid one of the
special six-inch Turkish cigarettes
he used. Apparently he was con-
sidering some problem.
At length he said, picking his
words, “It would be natural for you
to want to see the murderer of Mr.
Mitchell brought to justice. I also
do. But I assure you everything
was done that could be done. You
may believe me, M*. Curtis, it would
be a waste of time for you to try
where we have failed.”
Curt stared before he managed,
“Oh. quite ”
“Splendid. Besides, shall I cori-
fess to a selfish motive? If—if, I
mv we hnve been mistaken and
the murderer is still about, then he
is a more clever man than we think.
And if you should interest yourself
in the case, you might perhaps in-
vite a similar fate, no?”
Montaya put an end to the sub-
ject with an apologetic flash of teeth.
•T" cannot risk that. Engineering
work is behind schedule. I need
you so very badly, Mr. Curtis.”
The next hour was spent in meet-
ing key workers of the general staff,
persons with whom Curt would have
frequent contact.
It was a whirlwind tour. The bulk
of employees, numbering fifty to six-
ty, were Americans, with a sprin-
kling of Britishers and other Euro-
peans.
Then said Montaya, “This is the
best time of day for you to meet Dr.
Toenjes. Later he is likely to be
in the field.”
Using a handy phone he called for
the laboratory, and when ne got his
connection spoke in French.
“French?” queried Curt, as the
other hung up. ”1 thought the name
was Dutch.”
Montaya smiled perfunctorily.
“Oh, Dr. Toenjes also speaks Span-
ish and English—after a fashion. He
is more successful with French. You
do not, then, speak French?” As
Curt shook his head, “I thought not.
He will use English with you.”
The Agricultural Department oc-
cupied an adjacent building, filling
a corner left by the administra-
tion building and the hospital. Mon-
taya pushed on through the outer
office, vacant except for a young
man typing cards, and on to a door
at the rear.
In the huge working laboratory
there was shelf upon shelf, and row
upon row, of carefully labeled boxes
and jars. Along one side of the
room a number of steel filing cabi-
“Ah, but it is sad about her. Poor
little thing.”
nets stood in a straight line. On
the work tables were odd-shaped
vessels—alembics, glass funrifels, re-
torts.
Dr. Toenjes below medium height,
in a dirty linen laboratory smock,
proved a colorless individual. In-
deed, with his full-bearded face and
careless dress he looked fair prey
for a caricaturist. Near-sighted, he
wore thick-lense spectacles which
gave him a bug-eyed appearance.
The first words were conventional
greeting. Then:
“Your shipment of—ah, chemicals
at Cabeza aroused Mr. Curtis’ curi-
osity yesterday,” Montaya said. “I
told him such questions were your
special province.”
Geniality left the bearded face.
Hostile gray eyes bored through the
thick lenses into Curt.
“You ver vonce vith der beebles
across der riffer?” asked the Dutch-
man.
Curt nodded, smiled. Montaya’s
deprecation of the doctor’s English
hadn’t been an exaggeration.
“Six years ago. I know Panama
disease has shown up with them and
that they’ve tried a lime treatment
for it. It was a simple question I
put. The quantity of lime landed on
the docks—”
“Ah, ja. It iz trrooth I use der
lime—but alzo der oder chemicals.
Vat I use iz my zegred. Der bana-
ana pla-ant vill be der more healthy
und vigorous from my chemical
treatment uff der soil, und so ve
cqmbat der fungi more better as
yet. Den vill ve half der reechest
pla-anting in Tierra Libre.”
If Dr. Toenjes did have a miracu-
lous cheap compound for soil treat-
ment, something to allay the dread-
ed fungus disease, something with
which Associated could rejuvenate
their used lands, then there was
good reason for guarding the secret.
“You still half frriends ofer der
Negro vith Assqciated?”
The amusement jn Curt’s eyes was
a better answer than his words.
The trend of the interview, Curt’s
feeling that Montaya was exhibit-
ing him to the doctor, a certain in-
definable deference in Montaya’s al-
titude toward the Dutchman, con-
vinced Curt that whatever the
IPS
dumpy, bearded man had, he’d sold
Montaya on it pretty solidly.
At last, as final courtesies were
being said, the worthy doctor let
down the bars. He asked with what
could best be described as a cun-
ning look, “You blay gribbage, ja?”
“Cribbage?” Curt laughed. “Sure,
I know the game.”
“Goot. We blay sometime, ja?”
“Certainly.”
Montaya explained as they lefl
the laboratory.
“Dr. Toenjes’ one regret here is
that he has no good opponent al
his favorite game.” He smiled po
litely. “He 4$ very good at it. 1
hope, Mr. Curtis, you will be able
to stand up to him.”
Curt chuckled. “If I can’t, I’ll sic’
my wife onto him. She can play
the game backwards and forwards."
He added, with another chuckle, “11
he’ll comb out his beard first.”
Their final stop was the engineer-
ing office, a one-story structure,
square like the laboratory. It occu-
pied the corner between the general
offices and the clubhouse, thus com-
pleting the layout of principal com-
pany buildings about the square and
balancing the community center.
Here Curt was introduced to his
own staff. It was now midmorning.
Three draftsmen were at work, two
at detail drawings, the third on
maps. One room was reserved for
the field men when they came to
San Alejo to submit their progress
reports. There was a dark-room,
and a big vault containing records
and master charts. From photo-
static machine down to electric
erasers the equipment throughout
was ultra-modern.
Curt’s own office was airy, light,
cool, with both desk and big table
on which to spread out his papers,
a swivel chair between, a handy
upright rack for rolls of blueprints.
But the one thi*g which instantly
took his attention was the huge aeri-
al photographic map of the C. A. T.
tract permanently framed against
the wall. Here was something!
Montaya led the way across the
room, to tap proudly with his finger
tips. “I’d never have gotten my
planting under way without this.”
This map showed a rough triangle
of about 20,000 hectares, or 50,000
acres. The Quebrado Mountains
formed the western boundary. Along
the south and east flowed the Masica
River, joining the turbulent, unruly
Rio Negro, the northern boundary,
just below the rise of land where
stood Tempujo.
No buildings and no engineering
work showed on the map. It had
been made before any preliminary
work had been done. But it gave
Curt an instant picture of the en-
tire project; of the drainage neces-
sary to clear the huge swamp, dot-
ted with stands of jungle; of the
levees necessary to hold back the
rivers; of the best terrain for spur
tracks to feed the farms.
“The Negro is a wild stream that
requires taming,” said Montaya.
“We work on that now. Along here,”
he indicated with a pointer taken
from a rack beside the map, “we
make a twenty-three-foot levee.
Your most important job, Mr. Cur-
tis, is to see that it is completed
within the next five months. On
that I gamble 8,000 acres of plant-
ing!
“The Masica will hardly worry
us this year. In fact, since the—ah,
unfortunate happening to Mr. Mitch-
ell, I have halted work on the Masi-
ca levee and put those machines
on the Negro levee. Flooding of
the Masica will not endanger pres-
ent planting.
“Along this line,” he indicated
with the pointer, “is our main canal
Already it has drained several thou
sand acres. Here will be secondary
ditches. But we have so much to
do, yes, so many laterals to dig.
The canals in the upper half of the
tract must also be completed be-
fore the rains come.
“Now, we have four draglines and
a three-yard shovel and 6,000 la-
borers at work on the engineering
projects ...”
This wasn’t even the beginning.
More and more Curt realized he’d
stepped into a man-size job. And
with people who knew where they
were going—what they wanted and
how to go about getting it.
“Who made this map?”
“Mr. Ryden and Mr. Lannestock,”
was the answer. "In a plane 1
chartered especial for the purpose,
a year before I was ready to start
work. It takes long to secure a
concession, to plan. It is good work,
no? They are competent young men.
That is why I am so happy now to
have them under contract.
“Bueno. Here are progress re-
ports on the Negro levee, the main
drainage system, and the railroad.
You will wish to look them over,
but you will be brief about it, no?
Directly after lunch we shall start
on an inspection tour of the val-
ley. For this we shall take the
rest of today and tomorrow, so you
will bring what personal articles
you need for overnight. In the
meantime, I have much to do my-
self . .
Curt hardly noticed Montaya’s de-
parture. He even forgot the wor-
ries in the back of his mind. What
a job! The best equipment to work
with, a challenge to meet, with the
next season’s rainfall the deadline.
He swelled to the tasx, ms eyes
shone. He could have stood for
hours before that map. Noon rolled
around an too auuu.
(TO BE CONTINUED),
by "M
W RIGHT A. f
PATTER SON
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
GOVERNMENT CRITICISM
IN WARTIME
WE AMERICANS find it hard to
imagine frank and open criticism of
government in England, when the
nation is at war. That is the Eng-
lish way that has been in vogue for
more than a century. During the
days of World War I, I listened to
the brayings of soap-box orators
around Trafalgar square, the gath-
ering place of the critics and the dis-
contented. English bobbies were
there in numbers, but they made no
effort to stop the harangues. The
orators could condemn and view
with alarm anything and everything,
so long as they did not advise vio-
lence for the overthrow of the gov-
ernment. Any talk of guns and
bombs as a means of remedying
conditions was not permitted. The
English are willing that the agita-
tors should talk as a means of keep-
ing them out in the open and per-
mitting them to let off steam. They
do not fear the effect of what such
people may say, but do not want
them conspiring under ground. Tra-
falgar square is a paradise for the
“woolies” and the “wobblies," for all
who have a panacea to offer for
what they consider social ills. It Is
the open air free show of London in
war time, as well as in peace time.
• • •
IRISH FREEDOM
PROBLEM FOR BRITISH
IN DUBLIN, IRELAND, in the fall
of 1918, just before the close of
World War I, I met Countess Plunk-
ett. She was a radical Shinn Feiner,
loudly voicing a demand for Irish
freedom. She insisted Ireland be
given the same kind of freedom as
that enjoyed by people of the United
States and denounced England in
every possible term. As she was a
countess, I could not understand her
violent antipathy to England and
asked the “why” of it.
"Because the English shot my
son,” she replied.
After another question, I learned
that her son had been engaged in
the Easter uprising in England; had
been caught redhanded; had, after
two months in jail, a civil trial and
was convicted of treason and shot.
“You want for Ireland our Ameri-
can brand of freedom,” I said.
“Ireland is a part of the British
empire. In the United States, I live
in Illinois. It is a part of the United
States. As a citizen of Illinois, had
I engaged in an uprising against the
United States in time of war and
been caught at it, I would have been
tried by a drumhead court martial
and shot at sunrise. We value our
freedom, which we pay for with loy-
alty to the existing government. Is
that the kind of freedom you want?
I did not get an answer to the
question, but in time Ireland got the
freedom the lady was demanding.
• • •
CONGRESSIONAL CANDIDATES
AND WAR WORKING HOURS
I HAVE HAD AN OPPORTUNITY
for informal conversations with sev-
eral candidates for congress. Off
the record each one has told me he
is opposed to the maintenance of the
40-hour week in war production
plants; to the forcing of the closed
shop, and the enforced payment of
tribute to labor racketeers by em-
ployees in such plants; to all un-
necessary governmental expendi-
tures for civil activities. But all that
is “off the record” in all but one
case. One candidate was saying the
same things publicly. The others
were fearful of the votes they would
lose if it were known they opposed
the racketeering methods of labor
leaders, longer working hours or the
curtailment of governmental spend-
ing. Their one thought was to be
elected on whatever platform would
capture the most votes. There is
but one really honest man among
those with whom I have talked, one
man for whom I should like to vote.
I have never believed the two-faced
man could make an acceptable rep-
resentative of the people.
• • •
40-HOUR WEEK
IN PRE-WAR FRANCE
BEFORE THE PRESENT world
conflict started, the French govern-
ment was so intent on establishing
and maintaining social advances, it
did not have an opportunity to pre-
pare to meet the German menace.
With a 40-hour work week, the man-
power of France could not, or did
not, produce guns and tanks and
planes in quantities to offset those
produced by the much longer work-
ing hours in Germany.
France maintained its social ad-
vances but could not stop the ad-
vance of the German army. As a
result, the French workman is a
slave to Hitler today. He works the
number of hours Hitler tells him to
work; he eats what Hitler permits
him to have.
• • •
SOME AMERICANS have slowed
down. They are the ones who were
in such a hurry to get places that
they burned out their tires by fast
driving. Now they are walking and
will continue to do so for the dura-
tion.
• * •
ANOTHER WINTER IS ON THE
WAY and with its arrival General
Frost will again take over the Rus-
sian offensive. He represents a
tough nut for Adolf to crack. Let us
hope for his early arrival.
—Dip war ouuait— — ■
m.
HOUSEHOLD
HINT!
1 '
To remove chewing gum from I
clothes, apply ice. This will hard-
en the gum and it will peel off.
* • •
Fibers are broken in the backs
of rugs and carpets when they are
beaten. It is. better to use a
vacuum cleaner on rugs for short
periods twice a week than for a
longer period once a week.
* * *
Rub painted surfaces with a
lemon to remove marks made by
scratching matches.
* * *
A piece of chamois that has been!
dampened makes an excellent
duster for furniture.
• * *
The smaller the tea leaf, the
more tender the leaf and the bet-
tr the flavor of the tea.
• • *
An easy way to chop off chick-
ens’ heads: Drive two spikes into
the chopping block, spacing them
so that the chicken’s head will not
slip through. Catch the head be-
tween the spikes and stretch the
neck.
When you hear a Marine called
a "Leatherneck,” it has nothing
to do with the epidermis of his
neck. Years ago the Marine uni-
form was equipped with a high
stiff leather collar supposed to
give a more military carriage.
From that time on, “Leather-
neck” has been the word for a
Marine. The word for his favorite
cigarette is “Camel”—the favor-
ite cigarette also of men in the
Army, Navy, and Coast Guard.
(Based on actual sales records
from service men’s stores.) So if
you want to make a hit with your
friends or relatives in the service,
send a carton of Camels. Your
local dealer is featuring Camel
cartons for service men.—Adv.
BEAT-HEAT
After bathing is a good time to apply
Mexican Heat Powder to relieve heat rash,
and help prevent it. Absorbs perspi-
ration, often the cause of irritation.
Always demand Mexican Heat Powder.
BUY
UNITED STATES
BONDS
AND
STAMPS
U|ir
WNU-L
34—42
BUREAU OF
STANDARDS
• A BUSINESS
organization which wants
to get the most for the
money sets up standards
by which to judge what
is offered to it, just as in
Washington the govern-
ment maintains a Bureau
of Standards.
I
•You can have your own
Bureau of Standards, too.
Just consult the advertis-
ing columns of your news-
paper. They safeguard
yutU p>uCuw«uJ
every day of every year.
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The Jacksboro Gazette (Jacksboro, Tex.), Vol. 63, No. 13, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 27, 1942, newspaper, August 27, 1942; Jacksboro, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth602236/m1/3/: accessed May 5, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Gladys Johnson Ritchie Library.