The Corrigan Press (Corrigan, Tex.), Vol. 42, No. 43, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 15, 1936 Page: 4 of 8
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THR ('OIWIGAN PSflBB
Copyright by Edwin Balnier
Jtb Braddon, young- and fantastically
eucceRsful broker of Chicago, la Infat-
uated with Agnes Glenelth, beautiful
daughter of a retired manufacturer.
Rodney, a doctor, In love with Agnes,
visits his brother, Jeb. Rod plans work
at Rochester. Jeb suggests that he
make a try for Agnes before leaving.
In Hod there Is a deeper, obstinate
decency than In Jeb. Agnes believes
to be happy, a girl must bind herself
entirely to a man and have adorable
babies. Rod visits Agnes and tells her
of his groat desire, but realizes it can
never be fulfilled. Agnes* mother is at-
tempting to regain her husband's love
Agnes has disturbing doubts as to what
attracts her father in New York. Jeb
tells Agnes he is going to marry her,
and together they view an apartment
in Chicago. Jeb asks Agnes to set an
early date, but she tells him she can-
not marry hint. When the agent, Mr.
Colver, oHears to show them a furnished
aivirtment, Jeb asks Agnes to see it
alone, saying he must return to his
olllce. Agnes consents and Jeb leaves.
A radio is blaring terrifically from one
of the apartments. Colver raps upon
the door, which Is opened by a scantily
clad girl, who draws Agnes Into the
room. Colver finds her husband, Charles
Lorrie, fatally shot. He calls the police.
Myrtle Lorrie asks Agnes to phone
Cathal O'Mara, a lawyer, to come at
once. Agnes does. The police take
charge. O'Mara arrives. The officers are
antagonistic to him. Agnes sides with
Agnes was out; she had passed that
door; but the room and the apart-
ment inside It refused to be obliter-
ated. It went with her; they all
scented to travel with her, though she
only had been released, she alone had
been helped away.
She sat for a few minutes In the
women’* waiting-room of the North-
western railroad station, where no one
could know that she, this afternoon,
had walked In on a murder. After a
while, she went to a phone-booth and
called her father's ofliee. He was not
there, but his secretary grew almost
hysterical when she recognized Ag-
"Where are yon, Miss Agnes?”
“At the station; I’m taking a train
home In seven minutes.” The police
had communicated with her father,
and he had gone to find her.
Finally she called Jeb; hut he also
was out seeking her. For news of
the murder of Charles Lorrie was on
the air; the announcer lind said that
Miss Agnes Glenelth had discovered
The wife of a man la Jcb's office
had picked tills up at home not ten
minutes ago, and had phoned her hus-
band In the office; aod Jeb had set out.
Agnes sat In the train where no-
body knew. Nobody — yet. But by
night they would know; by morning
all her world would learn that she had
“walked In" on a murder while she
had beeu looking for an apartment
with Jeb Bruddon.
That meant, of course, that she was
to nmrry Jeb. Marry, marry, marry,
the rails ran again under the car
She had selected a seat amid stran-
gers; she leaned her head against the
window and shut her eyes.
See. You opened your eyes, but
that room wus there; Myrtle was
there, reaching for her, clinging to
her, forever clinging. “It” was down
the hall, half In the bedroom; the
husband whom Myrtle had shot, four
times, after being his wife for two
Agnes closed her eyes again.
Wlw was Bert, and where was he?
“Shut up about Bertl” Myrtle had
begged. And Agnes hud omitted men-
tion of him. Why?
For the sake of Myrtle? Or of Mar-
\Vh«t did Martin O’Mara mean by
spying "you" never do a thing like
thut, hut your dragons drove you to
It? What were the dragons, which
Myrtle’s soft sensuousness might have
known, but which Agnes knew naught
of, because God had been good to her?
The train was stopped again, and
It was at her station. There were her
mother and Bee, and Simmon* behind
them. Her father, It proved, had
phoned to them from the city to meet
this train. They bunded her home,
where her mother, after learning all
that Agnes could tell, offered to start
her »lf the next morning for the East
and for Europe.
"Your Aunt Esther will take you.
I’ll telephone her this evening."' Aunt
Esther was her mother’s older sister,
a widow living In Hartford. “I’d go
vwlth you myself, Agnes; hut It is no
time to leave your father."
"No," said Agnes. “But I can’t pus
slhly leave, Mother,”
“I’m a witness, I must appear he
ifore the coroner's Jury tomorrow,
probably; then before the Grand Jury;
anil then at the trial "
"I can't Imagine ltl” her mother
“B* I hava ts.*
Jeb arrived before bet father; he
had driven again from the city. Ag-
nes had him conic to her room, where
Jeb crossed the room In long, strong
strides and seized her In his arms.
She said no word but she pushed
away from him.
"What's the matter, Glen?" he over-
powered her again. "I love you so;
and I left you to walk into that—when
1 love you so!”
"Love?" Agnes repealed as much to
herself us to him, looking up at him.
"Do we love, Jeb? ... Or what Is it
we feel for each other?"
lie held her only tighter. "I know,"
Im said. “You'ro mixing ns up with
them. Don’t! , . Oh, I wish to God
I'd stayed there with you."
“You didn't, Jeb . . . I'm glnd."
It was nearly midnight, and after
Jeb was gone, when she had a talk
w ith her mother and father.
“You're not to blame. Agnea, little
Light One," he repeated, petting her
hair. "It was bad luck; that's all.
But why In the world did you phone
for that lawyer?"
“O'Mnrn?" said Agnes.
"I wish you hadn’t done It."
"It aligns you with her—and him."
“She won't go away," her mother
returned to her own remedy In the
emergency. "She Insists that she can't
leave at all."
“That's true,” said her father.
"At least," said her mother, "you'll
not go bnck to New York tomorrow,
"Were yon going tomorrow, Fa-
He looked at his daughter, who had
walked In on a murder that afternoon.
“Yes,” he said.
“Why?" she asked him, as never she
would have before.
"Business, of course. Light One."
What was Father doing In New
York? How could he do It? He. who
had been so happy with Mother—so
completely happy — during all those
eleven years In the house on Easter
Lane. But they were passed—as two
years had passed In that apartment
which she had visited, where Myrtle
had shot her husband. How could she
have done It?
She didn’t do It; not the bride who
had married him two years ago and
once had been happy with him. Fa-
ther—Father, who had brought Moth-
er as a bride to the house on Easter
Lane—that father was not doing what
Father was doing against Mother to-
"When such a thing Is done, yon
don’t do It," Martin O’Mara had told
her. “It's your dragons you have In
you that drive you."
Were the dragons of desire that fed
on Myrtle's soft sensuousness, also af-
Agnes lay long awake. If she could,
hy willing It, obliterate her hours In
the npnrtment so that never they could
touch her again, would she do It?
No, she knew. No. Who, having
passed from Innocence, would return
to It again? Who, having encoun-
tered him, would obliterate from all
her life ahead, Martin O'Mara?
Who was he? Who—what wife or
what other woman — might now he
Twenty miles away In the city a
woman wna awaiting him at that hour,
though It was long after midnight.
She was at a window beside the door
of a little frame house, and she
watched out with the shade up from
She watched for him and listened
hour after hour, eagerly but not Im-
patiently or critically. She lived for
his coming, whenever It might he.
She was slight but straight and
strong. Five foot two, she stood, a
little mother of big men; for both her
sons had been a full foot taller. "And
here Is the likes of me,” she'd say.
“outlivin' the both Iv thlm, And their
fayther. But please, God, let me niver
Him—none like him, to her; not
even her own sons, or her own mnn,
whose memory never failed her. Him
was her grandson, Cnthal Martin
O’Mara. And little as she was, and
old as she was,—nearing two and sev-
enty,—you could see resemblances be-
tween them. He had his good hands
from her, and much of the strong, sen-
sitive modeling of his bend. His hair
was like hers, line and straight and
He had his blue eyes from her, even
to the sparkle In them; and much,
much more than can ever be told. And
It was through her that lie had the
event which, of all elements that en-
tered into his making, most affected
him. She had seen It with her own
eyes; and ns soon as he had become
old enough to understand, she had
herself related It to him;
The tenlh of July, It was, In eight-
een ninety-three; and the Inke shore
along Jackson park wns white with
the great tine World's Fair buildings.
And this day was fine, and the Fair
wns full crowded to the turnstiles.
She wns seeing the Fair on that
tine day, was Winnie O'Oonnnr
O'Mara, wife—and proud of him—of
t'nthnl Martin O'Mara, of Engine Com
pony Number Two.
Few tin'll been the fires at the Fair,
nnd none that did either hurt or dam
age. But this day wna to pay up for It.
There were the white, tall towers
reaching up to the blue skies, and
mine of them nearer to heaven than
the tower of the Cold Storage build
Ing. And It was the hulk helmv that
caught fire on this fine afternoon: It
wasn't the lower nt nil, at the begin
nlng. The alarms went out; nnd the
lire comlitlnlc* came hv, their flop
strong htfrses running, and their big
“Flay sway, Two! I'lay awe.*, <>n«
Piny aw ay, Company Eight I Up with
ye, Chemical Fourteen!” And up the
men went to the roof, from roof nud
from ground playing their streams
on the building. But the lire was full
blazing anil leaping; mid It licked up
the water that reached It; nnd more of
the water fell short.
"To the tower I" shouts Fitzpatrick
—him that was captain of Engine
Company Two, and asslstaat chief of
bnttnlloa. "To the tower with the
water, and play on from above! Who’s
up to the tower with me?" And he •
set foot for the cllmh.
And twenty good men—the good of
the best—the fair score of them wint
up from the roof to the tower after
him, dragging (heir hoses with them.
And they got up nnd signed for water;
and the engines give it to them, and
there they played it down from the I
tower on the side of the root that was 1
Sure It wns a sight. From the Court
of Honor, from the Manufactures ex- I
hlblts, from the Art Galleries, from j
the Midway and all the shows be-
tween, the people came crowding to
see. Thousands and tens of thousands
of them. Faith, pushing nt the lire- j
lines that day was a city of people.
For the Are kept on gaining. The
water from the tower, like the water !
from the ground, was nothing to It. I
The blaze, It run on top the roof; and |
that was not so had. for that the men j
on the lower could see. But the flame.
It run along under the roof; nnd that ;
they couldn’t see till It broke up from
below sudden on all sides at once, and
cut off the tower entirely.
One man,—John Davis, of the Mid- i
way company,—he saw It the second
before It burst up; and he hugged the
hose-line and came down; and lie
reached the roof nnd ran over It be- |
fore it all was blazing. But scarce was
he down before the hose he rode was
burned away; all other hose to the
tower was burned away; and the life-
line like them. Twenty men—the even
score of them—stood at the top of the
tower, the blaze all about below them.
One hundred and ninety-one feet
from the ground, they stood; seventy
above the roof blazing nil about be-
low them. And God alone could help
Winnie O’Connor O'Mara—she was
thirty-five years old that month, and
her sons were twelve and fifteen, but |
neither were there to witness the deed ;
of this day—Winnie O'Mara, wife of
a fireman, got through the throng to i
“Who's them on the tower, can ye
"Fitzpatrick, assistant chief of bat-
"That I know; can ye name some
that stand up there with him?"
Cahill of Company Eight, I hoar;
Bill Denning of One; Lieutenant Free- |
man, One; Garvey; and Breen of
Chemical Fourteen; O'Mara of Two;
"O'Mara, did ye say, of Engine Com- ;
“O’Mara. YIs; I hear he went up—"
"Lord save ye, Is he yours? Do ye
"Yes; I know him.”
Then she saw him on the tower; she
knew which, of the score of men be- :
yond all human help, was he that was
They crouched, for shelter from the
heat of the flames below, on a bit of
a balcony near the top. There, If the
tower burned fast, they had ten min-
utes left them; at best, maybe twen- j
ty—bare minutes of life to those fine
strong men that stood In the sight of
all and must die. And thay, best of
all, knew It, ns they looked down, the
twenty of them.
And It struck all to silence.
Higher the blaze burnt, nnd hot-
ter. Faith, you could feel It hot on
the ground where you was thrust back
hy the fire-lines. What was It to
them on the tower!
But no shame showed there; there
was not a coward among them. All j
could see on the tower a man shaking !
hands with his fellow beside him. ,
Farewell between men. It was; and an- I
other gave his linnd to him.
Then the form of him hung In the
air over the flames. For a flash of
second, he seemed to stand In the \
air; for your heart had stopped for
him. Then he came down. He'd tak-
en his choice and jumped; and Into
the blaze he went, to the end of him.
Now a second shook his fellow’s
hands; and he jumped. Then they
Some one on the tower had found !
a length of life-line. Like enough, I
they'd spliced some poor pieces to-
gether. They let It down but only
to see It burn off. Yet twenty feet 1
of line hang down from the shelf; It
may have been twenty-live, but the
end of It burning. One came down
the rope to the end—the hands of him j
snuffing the tire where the hemp wns
He swung a bit on the rope, and
those above tried to swing him out;
so now you could see the dream of
them. There was a spot on the roof
below, which was not yet In flame,
and the plan was to swing him at It.
He let go and dropped. And the !
rope, where his hands hud been, I
caught tire again.
A fourth came down; and his Col■ |
lows above swung to help hltn. He
dropped, nnd there was the rope afire
again, nnd enoh time shorter.
Whn’d he next? On that tower there
was no man that shamed himself, mu
onel “Ye go! I'll wait! . , . Ye
go!" ye could see them saying.
Fitzpatrick, he had to order them;
and all could see him do It, ns they
came down, one hy one, each snuffing
the flame from the rope as lie hung
and swung; nnd dropped—and then
llie line caught Are again.
So dear to our hearts—the tune,
“Old Oaken Bucket,” and now,
a wall panel in its memory, which
every one of us will want to em-
broider for spring. Such a home-
like scene, this, which is planned
for quick embroidery, with single
and running stitch used mainly,
nnd only a smattering of French
knots. No frame is needed—just a
Pattern 1067 comes to you with
a transfer pattern of a picture
15 by 20 inches; a color chart and
key; material requirements; illus-
trations of all stitches needed.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
If cream or custard sauce
curdles put the vessel in which it
is cooking in a pan of hot water
and heat well. It will soon become
• • •
When preparing fruit salad
sprinkle bananas, peaches, pears
and apples with lemon juice or
marinate with French dressing as
soon as they are cut. This
prevents discoloration from ex-
posure to air.
• • •
Flaked salmon and chopped cu-
cumber pickles moistened with
mayonnaise makes a tasty sand-
© Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
(coins preferred) for this pattern
to The Sewing Circle Needlecraft
Dept., 82 Eighth Ave., New York,
Write plainly pattern number,
your name and address.
Dr. Holmes was usked when tb*
training of a child should begin.
"A hundred years before it is
born," he replied. This is a
strong wuy of putting the truth
that the training of children
should begin with the training of
their grandparents. — S. B.
Wishard, D. D.
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Gilbert, J. R. The Corrigan Press (Corrigan, Tex.), Vol. 42, No. 43, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 15, 1936, newspaper, October 15, 1936; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth642710/m1/4/: accessed July 19, 2019), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Livingston Municipal Library.