The Alto Herald (Alto, Tex.), Vol. 42, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 14, 1942 Page: 3 of 8
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THE ALTO HERALD, ALTO, TEXAS
Find $10,000,000
On Ocean s Floor
HE
ME'
—^ Diver! Count 150 Mines in
E Hunt for Treasure.
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AUCKLAND. NEW ZEALAND -
A daring, year-long hunt for sunken
treasure ha! been completed with
recovery of $10,000',000 worth of gold
buUion from the hulk of the sunken
British iiner Niagara in mine and
shark infested waters off Auckiand.
With the bars of the precious metai
stored away safety in a bank vauit,
the fuii story of the recovery be-
came known.
The treasure hunt was organized
shortiy after the Niagara, bound
from New Zealand to Canada, struck
a mine and went down 60 miies oil
Auckland June 19, 1940. But it was
not until February 2, 1941, that the
wreck was located.
A Melbourne salvage company
took over the operations under con-
tract to the Commonweaith bank.
Veteran divers were enlisted and
guaranteed a percentage of ail the
gold they retrieved. Besides risk-
ing their lives, they staked their as-
sets on the success of their task.
Some mortgaged their homes. But
today "they're in the money."
!n diving to the ocean door they
counted 150 mines. Chief Diver
John Johnstone of Melbourne estab-
lished a world record with a 528
foot descent in an observation be)!.
The divers found the Niagara ly-
ing on her side. It was necessary
to blast a hole through her plates
and cut away the decks to reach
her strong room.
A special explosive of gelignite
with a core of gun cotton was used.
Charges were lowered in a container
slit on one side, which was placed
against the part to be cut away.
Altogether 4,000 pounds of explosives
were used before the way was
cleared to the strong room and its
gold.
The first of the yellow bars was
brought to the surface last October
13, the last on December 7. the day
Japan struck in the Pacific.
Otdtime 'Waste' Is Now
Saved by Stee! MiHs
YOUNGSTOWN. — The rejected
scum of previous years is virtual
gold for Youngstown district steel
mills today as they scrape up
every possible bit of scrap to meet
demands for more and more materi-
al for open-hearth furnaces.
The richest "gold mine" found so
far has been the slag piie where
each Hrm has dumped its molten
slag for years and years.
With a power shovel working con-
tinuously. Republic Steel corpora-
tion is digging up tons of pig iron
and steel which were thrown away
during the lush years of the eariy
twenties because they were not up
to par.
Scum from the top of ladles, iron
or steel which spilled on the door,
and other tons of metal thrown on
the scrap pile because It cost too
much to recialm it, are being re-
claimed today.
Giant sections of slag with valu-
able iron or steel imbedded in it
are being broken by skull breakers
and the precious scrap recovered to
ba made into steel for ships, guns,
tanks, and other articles of war-
fare.
The district's scrap situation be-
came so serious that reclamation
steps were taken to prevent a fur-
ther shutdown of furnaces. Neariy
a score of furnaces were down eariy
this year because of the general
scrap shortage here.
t chM",,
He Wins Home, Car and
Groceries; Needs Gir!
FORT OBD. — Because Sergt.
George Bartlett of Fort Ord had
the house, the furniture, and the
automobile, he Is now in Little Rock,
Ark., to see about getting the girl.
The girl of his choice, whose name
was not revealed here, telephoned
the sergeant that he held a ticket
that entitles him to a new home,
furniture, a month's suppiy of gro-
ceries. an automobile, and gasoline
to take him 20,000 miles.
Even the utilities are paid for a
month.
Maj. Gen. W. H. Simpson gave
Sergeant Bartlett a special furlough
when he heard that the latter had
won the home In Little Rock. ;
Admires Fightin' Foots,
So He Join* Polish Army
HALIFAX.—Eddbert Walker. 39
yssrs old, who hsils from Tulsa.
OMa.. and likes HghUng. can't carry
on a eonversstlon with his mates
!n the Polish srmy unit training
here. But he can fight and they
can aght and that's the only reason
Eddbert it here.
Walker, half Irish and half Chero-
kee Indian, spesks Oklahoma Eng-
lish and nothing else. He joined the
Polish srmy being reformed here
because "I hesrd they were the
Hghtlngest fools tn uniform."
He said he "lit out for good" from
Oklahoma when he was 12 and
hasn't returned since. He has been
sU over the world looking for fights
and did soma In various countries,
Including China, where he was head
of a band of guerrillas for 30 months.
"I never fought a German,"
Walker said, "but they probably
aren't so tough. "
DR. E. 8. GARDINER
4201 Austin Street
Houston, Texas
B*ct*) and Skin Disesses
W M U t*t*<M*
^VSYLViA TAYLOR
THE STORY SO FAR: Join Lelsnd,
pretty secretary to Arthur Muiford, S*n
Francisco importer, is amarfd snd *mry
when he unexpectedly discharges her
with two weeks' ssiary snd refuses to
ttve any explanation for the act. The
hewiidered giri arrives at the studio
apartment shared with her sister Sybi),
teeiint thanhfui that one of them stiii
has a position, oniy to be toid by her
sister that the beauty saion, where she
is empioyed. is closing up. Reading the
want ads that evening, Joan decides to
answer one caiiinc (or a secretary, witt-
ing to put in some night hours. Over the
protests o! Sybit.shegoes to theaddress
given, and ends it to be a new night
ctub. The handsome proprietor, Kari
MiUer, engages her at once atBfty
doUars a week "considering the nn-
usuai hours."
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER II
"Just a minute, Miss Leland. I'll
give you two weeks' salary in ad-
vance."
Joan colored. Did Mr. MiUer think
she needed money? "It won't be
necessary."
He laughed. "You will find that
I do business in my own way. It
is quite customary for me to pay
my employees in advance."
She felt embarrassed and rebuffed
as he wrote out a check and handed
it to her, but she said quietly,
"Thank you very much, Mr. Miller."
He opened the door for her and
their hands touched on the knob.
Blue eyes gazed into green. He
was very close to her.
"I'll expect you tomorrow, then."
She felt a personal significance in
each of these unimportant words.
"Good night, Mr. Miller!"
"Good night, Miss Leland." Again
she noticed the soft, thick accent,
the trick of speaking without mov-
ing the lips. He was still smiling
as she closed the door.
It was almost eleven when Joan
arrived home.
"You said you'd telephone." Sybil
reminded her. "What happened?"
Without removing hat or coat Joan
sank down before the fire. "I got the
job all right, Syb. It's a night ciub.
A man named Karl Miller."
"You don't seem very excited,"
Sybil commented.
"He's the most interesting man
!'ve ever seen," Joan said softly.
"What goes on?" Sybil exploded.
"Have you lost your mind?"
Joan rose and laughed shakily.
"Sorry, Syb! Anyway, I have a job
starting tomorrow and the salary is
fifty dollars a week."
"Fifty dollars a week!" Sybil
frowned. "There's something wrong
with this picture! That's too good a
salary for a job without a reference.
I don't like it, Joan. What's this
Karl Miiler like?"
Joan yawned and went into the
bedroom. "Take it easy, darling!
No doubt he is all right. Come on
to bed, Syb. Let's not argue about
it tonight."
Sybil opened the windows to the
screaming wail of foghorns.
"What are your hours?"
"I don't have to be there until
two and I work until around mid-
night."
"Joan, I'm not going to let you
take that job! There's something
phoney about it."
Joan pulled the covers up over her
chin. Her hair spilled like liquid
jet over the white pillow case.
"It will be fun working at a night
club. I'm almost glad that Mr. Mui-
ford fired me."
Sybil wound the last golden curl
on a bobby pin and tied a net
over her hair. "You're getting into
something. I have a feeling."
"At least I won't be bored. You
know, Syb, I've always wanted to
have something exciting happen to
me."
"Something like Kari Miller?"
Sybil questioned, shrewdly.
"Perhaps!"
Sybil snapped off the light. "Don't
be foolish, Joan! You couldn't possi-
bly be in love with a man you've
met only once."
Joan smiled in the darkness.
"Why not?"
"Because that isn't love! If you'd
ever really been in love, you'd know
the difference."
"Maybe I already know the dif-
ference," Joan thought, remember-
ing a pair of shrewd blue eyes.
"Infatuation and love are two dif-
ferent things," Sybil's voice cut
through the darkness.
But Joan was hearing another
voice, a voice that put intimacy
into the most commonplace words as
it said, "I'll expect you tomorrow."
But Sybil lay awake, shivering in
spite of the warm covers, wonder-
ing, almost afraid of a tomorrow
that might be fraught with sinister
significance, a significance she felt
and mistrusted.
* * *
Joan's first day as Karl Miller's
secretary was uneventful. The Club
Elite was in the hands of painters
and decorators who made so much
noise and confusion that it penetrat-
ed even to the inner office. From
two to Hve Joan worked harder than
ever before in her life. Karl was
particular. He watched every move
she made. He scrutinized each let-
ter she typed with a quick sweep of
his blue eyes. His very presence
made Joan nervous.
"I want you to memorize every
name in this book," he told her, in-
dicating a small, leather volume. "I
speak to no one, in person, or over
the telephone, unless the name is
here. You understand?"
'You're working for the boss," he reminded her, smiling, "I'D see
that we're through early."
He took a red carnation from the
vase on the desk, broke the stem
and inserted the flower in his but-
tonhole. But his eyes did not miss
the flicker of expression that crossed
Joan's face when she opened the
book and came to the name of Ar-
thur Muiford.
"I told you I have been in the
importing business. I knew your
former boss."
"Yes. Mr. Miller." Joan was too
good a secretary to question his
word. She turned back to her type-
writer. It was almost six o'clock be-
fore Karl said, "AH right, Joan, you
may go now. You don't have to be
back until eight-thirty."
The unexpected use of her first
name sent a thrill of anticipation
through the girl. She paused a mo-
ment before she opened the door,
hoping that he would say something
else, but Karl turned and began
talking over the telephone.
"I must be crazy," Joan told her-
self as she hurried down the long
corridor. "He hasn't any more in-
terest in me than if I were part of
the furniture."
She had dinner at a small restau-
rant, sipping hot coffee gratefully.
She remembered with a wry smile
that Sybil was worried about her
salary. She could understand now
why Karl thought the job was worth
fifty dollars a week! She was as
tired already as if she had put in
a full day.
She lingered over her dessert and
walked slowly back to work, paus-
ing on the way to look in the shop
windows. But she could not fill up
two hours and a half and it was
only a few minutes before eight
when she pushed open the door of
the Club Elite.
An orchestra was rehearsing in
the dimly lit salon. Karl Miller sat
on one of the gilt chairs listening.
His keen eyes spotted Joan instant-
ly.
"Sit down,"he directed. "What
do you think of the band?"
"It sounds grand." She felt the
old sensation of self-consciousness.
What was this peculiar excitement
that seized her whenever he smiled
at her?
"Is anything wrong, Joan?"
He was so sure of himself, so
smooth. It made her feel like a
schoolgirl. She felt positive that he
knew the emotions that were rac-
ing through her heart. Positive that
he knew the attraction he had for
her. "Nothing! Why should there
be?"
He laughed then, throwing back
his head. But the laughter made
her angry.
"I'd better get back to work,"
she said. "There's a lot to do."
He caught her hand as she rose.
"How would you like to go dancing
with me Friday night?"
His proposal took her by complete
surprise. "Why, Mr. Miller, I'd love
to."
He released her hand. "I would
prefer that you call me Karl."
"All right, Karl. But what about
working Friday night?"
"You're working for the boss," he
reminded her, smiling. "I'll see
that we're through early."
Joan did not tell Sybi! about her
date until the time came. Her sis-
ter did not approve.
"Going out with the boss never
works," Sybil insisted stubbornly.
"Honestly, Joan, I don't know
what's come over you. You're not
using your head at all. There's
something funny about this whole
business—and this man!"
"Let's not go over it again," Joan
said happily. "When you see Karl
Miller you'll understand why I'm
so crazy about him."
Sybil sat down on the bed and
watched her sister apply make-up.
"If he's opening the club tomorrow,
why is he running around tonight?
Why isn't he in the office taking
care of things?"
"That's his business, isn't it?
Look, Syb, will you light the fire
in the living room? I want every-
thing to look nice."
"Nice and cozy!" sniffed Sybil.
"Okay. But don't think I'm going
to be the retiring sister and stay
in the bedroom. I'm going to be
right there to meet him."
Joan slipped into the new black
velvet dinner dress she had pur-
chased before she knew Karl Mil-
ter. She had been saving it for an
occasion like this. The square neck
was provocatively cut, the sleeves
long and tight. She had drawn her
smooth black hair over her ears,
and coiled it in a low knot at the
nape of her white neck.
"Look, Syb," Joan begged, "May
I use a little of your perfume?"
Sybi! thrust the bottle at her un-
graciously. "That dress makes you
look ten years older, Joan."
Joan was not to be rufHed. "After
a'), darling, you can't expect me
to run around in pink tulle al! my
life. And Karl must be al! of thirty-
five," she added thoughtfully.
"Al! of forty," snapped Sybil.
"You have no business running
around with a man twice your age."
"Skip it! Please, Sybil!"
Karl Miller put an end to the ar-
gument by pressing his finger on
the doorbell. Joan Hew to meet
him. She was proud of him. His
charming manners. His impecca-
ble evening clothes. His smooth,
indifferent chatter as he talked
pleasantly to Sybi! while Joan got
her wrap. But she knew from her
sister's co!d good night that she
was not favorably impressed.
Karl knew it too. "I don't think
your Sister likes me," he said as
he helped Joan into his car. "Per-
haps she thinks I am too old for
you."
His uncanny accuracy embar-
rassed Joan. "Sybil's been married
and divorced. She's not very trust-
ing when it comes to men."
"And you, Joan? Do you trust
men?"
"Some men," Joan replied, hop-
ing that she sounded careless.
They went to a night club. "I
could use a few pointers," Karl told
her, "since I'm new to this kind of
business."
A Hawaiian orchestra played un-
der soft rosy lights. Karl was a
superb dancer, surprisingly light on
his feet for such a heavily built
man.
"He's !ike tempered stee!," Joan
thought. "Everything about him.
Voice, expression, strength." He
held her lightly but Joan felt that
she could not have broken away
from him had she tried.
"I have news for you," he said
suddenly, "Your former employer,
Mr. Muiford, has gone out of busi-
ness. No doubt that is why he let
you go."
"But that's impossible," Joan
cried in surprise. "When I called the
ofHce three days ago, he had hired
a new secretary. Why would he do
that if he were closing the office?"
Karl Miller did not smile. "You
are quite a little detective."
Joan laughed. "I'd like to be one.
I'm afraid I'm an adventuresome
soul in spite of the unexciting life
I've led."
"Perhaps your life will become
more exciting as it goes on."
"I hope it does," Joan said reck-
lessly.
"I am quite sure," Karl Miller
said tonelessly, "that it will."
What was it about him that drew
and held her interest? His face,
which showed her a thousand men
in one? Varied moods, hardness,
coldness, irritation and amusement?
He was obviously a man of the
world, a world that Joan had never
known.
"Don't think too much, Joan,"
Karl advised her gently. "I have
found that it seldom pays."
It was a strange evening, gay,
yet restrained by the undercurrents
that bafHed and disturbed Joan.
Afterward, looking back on this eve-
ning, she could understand many
things, but at the time being with
Karl was all that mattered. Feel-
ing the touch of his arms as they
danced, looking into his eyes as he
raised his glass, hearing his charm-
ing voice blending into the wail of
Hawaiian music, guitars, gentle
bass, soft drums, the quartette from
Honolulu that droned chants into
their ears.
He paid her many compliments.
"I like your hair that way," he re-
marked. "It makes you look quite
foreign and much older."
"My sister doesn't like it at all.
She has an idea that I'm still a
little girl."
His eyes swept the figure in its
black velvet sheath. "Really? I am
afraid that your sister and I would
not agree."
fro BE CONTWt/EDJ
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Weimar, F. L. The Alto Herald (Alto, Tex.), Vol. 42, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 14, 1942, newspaper, May 14, 1942; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth215031/m1/3/: accessed May 21, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Stella Hill Memorial Library.