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Updated: June 16, 2025
In the following month, however, Cardon and two sons, and Wm. A. Walker came upon the ground, with other families, followed, three weeks later, by Nathan C. Tenney, father of Ammon M., with two sons, John T. and Samuel, Hans Gulbrandsen and Charles Riggs. For about a year the settlement was known simply as Tenney's Camp. L. H. Hatch was appointed to take charge in February, 1878.
He turned to where the big man in black leather stood guard at the door. "Doug, go get Ray Pelton and bring him here. Check with Miss Collins for where he'd be, now." He turned back to the screen. "Anything else, Frank?" "Isn't that enough?" the brewer-Literate demanded. "I'll call you at the store, after a while. 'Bye." The screen darkened as Cardon broke the connection.
Lancedale consigned the brewery to perdition. "That's just your cover; any money it makes is purely irrelevant. How about the election?" "Pelton's in," Cardon said. "As nearly in as any candidate ever was before the polls opened. Three months ago, the Independents were as solid as Gibraltar used to be. Today, they look like Gibraltar after that H-bomb hit it.
"You've earned it, all right." Lancedale poured Cardon's coffee and passed him the cigar humidor. "How's Pelton's attitude toward the Consolidated Illiterates' Organization, now?" Cardon, having picked up the Italian stiletto to puncture his cigar, looked at it carefully to make sure that it really had no edge, and then drew it quickly across his throat. "Just like that.
"I feel like a new man, already." Then his face clouded again. "But we have no time to prepare a speech, now, and I just can't ad lib one." Cardon drew a little half-inch record-disk from his pocket case. "Play this off," he said. "I had it fixed up, as soon as I got wise to what was going to happen. The voice is one of the girls in my office, over at the brewery.
Madame Cardon, from Arras, met with no hindrance; and Leonard, the Queen's hairdresser, passed through Varennes a few hours before the royal family. Fate had reserved all its obstacles for the unfortunate monarch. Nothing worthy of notice occurred in the beginning of the journey.
The howling of the 'copter propeller overhead effectively blocked out any sounds that might be coming from the building, at least until the ambulance landed. Then a spatter of firing from below was audible. Cardon, the medic and the guards piled out, the latter with the stretcher.
Cardon stepped forward and yanked the hood from the man whom Yetsko had knocked down, hoping that he had a stunned prisoner who could be interrogated. The man was dead, however, with a broken neck. For a moment, Cardon looked down at the heavy, brutal features of Joe West, the Illiterates' Organization man.
Cardon put the disk in his pocket recorder and set it for play-back, putting the plug in his ear. After a while, he shut it off and took out the ear plug. "That's bad! What are we going to do about it?" Lancedale shrugged. "What are you going to do?" he countered. "You're Pelton's campaign manager Heaven pity him." Cardon thought for a moment. "We'll play it for laughs," he decided.
Light, graceful, airy, but rather thin and narrow, it reminds one of the temple of Fortuna Virilis at Rome. But if Nismes itself is not picturesque, its environs contain the wonderful Pont du Gard. A two or three hours' drive leads through a desolate country to the valley of the Cardon, where suddenly, at a turn of the road, one comes upon the aqueduct.
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