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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Yes'm," said Carson. "I doped it up like that." "Why," cried the girl, "he's fired all of the old men and Heaven knows how many of his sort he's put in their places! Help me clean 'em out, Carson! Where will we begin? I've chucked Trevors and Ward Hannon. Who goes next, Carson?" "Benny the cook," said Carson gently. "An' I'd be obliged, ma'am, if you'd let me go boot him off'n the ranch."
Who was this owner? demanded Ward Hannon, the foreman of the lower ranch, where the alfalfa-fields were. Bud Lee explained gravely that the newcomer was some sort of relative of old Luke Sanford, who had recently acquired a controlling interest in the ranch. Ward Hannon grunted contemptuously. "The Lord deliver us!" he moaned. "Eastern jasper! One of the know-all-about-it brand, huh, Bud?
The body of Eugene Hannon, twenty-two, found yesterday near the First Presbyterian Church, was identified to-day by his father. He was a member of the League of American Wheelmen, and his bicycle was found within a few yards of his body. The father will lay the wrecked bicycle on the coffin of his son.
Hannon turned toward the stable. "All right. We'll see who's going to put or shut up!" he jeered over his shoulder. "You ride the Prince just two little minutes and I'll stay and work for you!" Bud Lee from the doorway interfered. He was a man who loved fair play and he knew the Prince. "None of that, Ward," he called sternly. "Not the Prince!"
The men turned from her to Ward Hannon, the field foreman, who had been Trevors's right-hand man and who now was sneering openly. "I'm saying it's no work for a kid of a girl," grumbled Hannon. "You run an outfit like this?" He laughed derisively. "It can't be did." "It can't, can't it?" cried Judith. "Tell me why, old smarty. Spit it out lively."
The forces are posted as follows: Colonel Dibrell, 900 men, at Tuscumbia Landing; Colonel Josiah Patterson, 1,000, at Florence; Colonel M. W. Hannon, 1,800, at Tuscumbia; Colonel Roddey's old regiment, 800, at Tuscumbia Landing; Baxter Smith, 350, ten miles this side; Colonel Hampton, 300 at same place; W. R. Julian, 300, at Grey's, six miles this side; and Smith, 100, at Big Bear.
But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll jest take a look around myself. I sort of like a girl who knows how to talk to old Ben without being sassy." "Thank you very much, Ben, but I really must hurry to trace the boys. I suppose you have no police around the island?" "Wall, there's Constable Hannon. He is all right to trace a thing when you tell him where it is, but Tom Hannon hates to think."
By this means, he had an editor and an organized force on the spot, devoting full time to the preparation of war material, with Mr. Hannon in daily conference with the department chiefs to secure the newest developments. Bok learned that the country's first act would be to recruit for the navy, so as to get this branch of the service into a state of preparedness.
I'll bet he combs his hair in the middle and smokes cigareets out'n a box! The putty-headed loons can't even roll their own smokes." "Don't believe," hazarded Lee indifferently, "from the looks of our visitor that that the owner smokes anything!" "Listen to that!" grunted Ward Hannon. "Softy, huh?" "Well," Bud admitted slowly, "looks sort of like a girl, you know!"
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