Citation
Hero-chums

Material Information

Title:
Hero-chums
Series Title:
Young of heart series
Creator:
Dromgoole, Will Allen, 1860-1934
Dana Estes & Company ( Publisher )
Colonial Press (Boston, Mass.) ( Printer )
C.H. Simonds & Co
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publisher:
Dana Estes & Company
Manufacturer:
Colonial Press ; Electroptyped and printed by C.H. Simonds & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
147 p. : ill. ; 19 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Intergenerational relations -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Fathers and sons -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children with disabilities -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Miners -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Social classes -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Juvenile fiction -- Tennessee ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1898 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre:
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's advertisements precede text.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Will Allen Dromgoole.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026673375 ( ALEPH )
ALG5812 ( NOTIS )
261339140 ( OCLC )

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Full Text




The Baldwin Library

RnB |





een Nata
Wiidhrus (i8



HERO-CHUMS



THE YOUNG OF HEART SERIES

ILLUSTRATED
1. Hero-Chums. ... By Will Allen Dromgoole
2. The Pineboro Quartette . By Willis Boyd Allen

3. One Thousand Men for a Christmas Present,
‘ By Mary A. Sheldon

4. Daddy Darwin’s Dovecote . By Juliana H. Ewing
5. Rare Old Chums . 5 By Will Allen Dromgoole
6. The Drums of the Fore and Aft, ~
By Rudyard Kipling
7. The Strange Adventures of Billy Trill,
By Harriet A. Cheever
8. A Boy’s Battle .. By Will Allen Dromgoole

9. The Man Without a Country,
By Edward Everett Hale

10. Editha’s Burglar. . By Frances Hodgson Burnett
11. Jess . 0 ‘ : : : 5 By J. M. Barrie
12. Little Rosebud . e . By Beatrice Harraden
















Special Cover Design on each Volume

Each, Thin 12mo. Cloth. 50 Cents



DANA ESTES & CO., Publishers, Boston







Es

“TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS.”



HERO-CHUMs5

BY
WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE

AUTHOR oF ‘‘ THE HEART OF OLD Hicxkory,”’
“THe VALLEY PATH,’’ Erc,

ILLUSTRATED



BOSTON

DANA ESTES & COMPANY.
PUBLISHERS ie



Copyright, 1898
By EstTEs AND LAURIAT

Colonial Wress :
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U.S.A.



CONTENTS.



CHAPTER. : PAGE
I. Two Dear Oxp FRIENDS 5 ; . wlll

II. ConFIDENTIAL . : ; 3 ; ‘i eo
II. Oxrp Nan anv Aa Contract . : : - 48
IV. A Mite-post DINNER : : ; : . 69
V. Tue Otp Lover. , : - Oe
VI. Srcrets . b : . 5 0 - 95
VII. THe CHATTANOOGA BELLE . : ; - 106
VIII. Sarre in THE ARMs. é , _ ; . 126

IX. A Hero AaFrer Curist . é : 6 - 148



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
“Two Drar Op FRIENDS” A . . Frontispiece
«“¢Hetio, LirrLhe Man, ArEn’t You A Suip or Lost
SUNSHINE?’” . ; : 3 ; ; en.
«¢Tr You PLease, Sir, THE YounG Master SENT
You Tuis’” zs B ¥ . z 5 se 89
«“¢Loox, Ou, Loox, Mr. Brewer!’” A 5 123

“ He WaAveEpD THE Tiny Rac To SomE ONE Upon THE

Bank” H ‘ : a 3 : - 139



HERO-CHUMS.



CHAPTER I.
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS.

HE village lay in a straight line with the river,
with something like a quarter of a mile stretch
of lowland between it and the stream. What stream ?
One of the most majestic, and having its very first
impetus somewhere among the old Virginian moun-
tains. Numberless rivulets, that leap from crag
to gorge, come dashing down, pell-mell, until with a
gurgling jubilance the noisy currents meet; kiss kin-
ship in one grand, majestic unity, which flows tran-
quilly enough for a time, then, plunging southward,
takes a sudden dip into Alabama, twisting itself into
the wonderful “ Big Bend” which, in the beautiful
Indian vernacular, is the Tennessee.

It soon tires of Alabama, however, and turns north-
ward, through Western Tennessee ; cutting, draining,
enriching as it goes, blending at last, and losing itself
with the Ohio.

The village lying back beyond the river doesn’t
il



12 HERO-CHUMS.

appear upon the map under its old name of Slipup.
The capitalists have taken hold upon it long ago,
attracted by the ironclad hills that surround it, and
have dignified it by a nobler name and more preten-
tious.

But our story has to do with Slipup, the noisy
little iron town on the west bank of the Tennessee.

It has always been 4 pretty village, despite the
name, the fog that sometimes comes up from the
river, the smoke from the furnaces, and the red dust
from the iron, and the ever-passing zebra stripes of the
prison gang, brought down from the neighbouring
stockades when the work is heavy. It is a pretty
site; so nature gave the deed to its first attraction.
And then the capitalists built well. The row of cot-
tages, set back upon the rise above the stretch of low-
land, are English, and built with an eye to beauty,
when the cry of iron in the South first began to raise
commotion, and breed schemes, golden plans, in the
brains of shrewd speculators.

The company worked slowly, scarcely presuming,
in its modest beginning, to give itself a name. The
miners, however, knew it as the “'T. I. 0.’ — mean-
ing the Tennessee Iron Company. It worked steadily,
however; ere long, it bought up the hills around, and
the valley between. It girdled the valley anon with
an iron track, after it had erected furnaces and leased
from the State her convicts, with whom they opened
up the mines, both coal and iron, and loaded the
boats, before the railroad came, with pig-iron for the



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 13

distant markets. They retained the convicts until
the village was well “settled up,” and could furnish
its own “ hands,” and the “ zebras” were withdrawn at
the “request” of the citizens occupying the long line
of English cottages, and the demand of the free min-
ers occupying the shacks in the lowland, on the oppo-
site bank of the river.

The river was the division line between the two
classes, — this was not so much a matter of society
as a matter of choice, in that each representation
wished a view of the river, the business thoroughfare
of the town in its early day. There were boats run-
ning from Chattanooga above, to the Muscle Shoals
below; and the miners’ wives were as fond of see-
ing the little. vessels go by as were the wives of
the more fortunate Englishmen in the white cot-
tages on the other bank. It was the only reminder
they had, poor souls, of the great world stretching
away beyond the river and the hot, noisy furnace,
the clatter of the slag-carts, and the everlasting rush
of iron into the sand gullies. There was a restful
pleasure in the very sight of the easy-gliding vessels.
They clustered about the doors of their huts, their
children clinging to their skirts, their hands shading
their eyes from the sun, and forgot both smoke and
noise while the boats were passing. The boatmen sel-
dom looked their way, however, —the white cottages
on the other side took their eye. If a salute was
given, or a handkerchief waved, they knew it was not
for them, but for the English wives on the other side.



14 HERO-CHUMS.

For the superintendent’s wife, most probably, for there
was always some one upon the top stone step when
the boats went by, and a signal never failed to flutter
in the air, above-a little golden head, when the boats
passed before the ‘company’s house” where the
superintendent lived, —the very handsomest of Eng-
lish houses, with the very handsomest of mistresses.
The boatmen knew all about it; even the hands upon
the flatboats, the dusty folk upon the coal-barges,
never forgot. to look for the signal upon the top step,
and to “ wave back” to the owner of the golden head
when they passed before the company’s house.

The miners’ wives made it a matter for complaint
at first, when they saw the white linen, or the purple
velvet jacket, as the weather might demand, on the
superintendent’s doorstep. And they spoke of the
child as the “little master’? who was “too clean to
go among common folk,” or “too grand to run with
the children of the furnace hands.”

But when at last they understood that the little
linen-clad limbs were supported by a tiny crutch, and
that the little feet would rejoice, oh, so gladly, to
“run” with other little feet, their bitterness gave place
to sympathy, and they kissed their own strong, brown
babies, and bade them peep at the window and see if
“Master John” had heard the Rapidan’s whistle.
And then they would wipe their eyes upon their
aprons, so that they also might see the golden head
like a ball of bright sunshine on the doorstep. He
wayed to them, too, sometimes, with his handkerchief,



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 16

or else with his cap when the boats had passed. They
liked him to wave the cap, because it left the yellow
curls bare and the ball of sunshine was more distinct.

He seldom got nearer the river, however, than the
low iron gate of the company’s house, unless Old
Despair carried him down to “the works,” as he did

“almost every Saturday afternoon, to see the flatboats
loading with pig-iron for the market. But it was the
steamboats he liked best; he was acquainted with
their captains and knew the several whistles before
he saw the vessels themselves. He would waken in
the night with a start, when a sharp, shrill note would
announce the approach of the river travellers, and call
to his father asleep in the big bed near his own white
cot, where “ Susan chucked him, and mother tucked
him ” in for the night.

“Father, that’s the Rapidan’s toot, isn’t it?” he
would call. “Father? I say, isn’t that the Rapidan’s
toot?”

“Yes,” the reply had as well come first as last,
“that is the Rapidan, I think. Go to sleep now,
John.”

“ All right, sir; as soon as the Red Cloud goes by.
She follows the Rapidan sometimes. I'll wait awhile
for her. But you needn’t wait for me, father. Tl
come as soon as the Red goes by.”

As if, indeed, sweet child heart, sleep were but a
care-free following one’s dear ones into dreamland.

Slipup boasted but one street in those first days of
its existence, The little paths, back of the dwellings,



16 HERO-CHUMS.

leading to the blacksmith’s shop or the shoemaker’s
shanty, were not regarded as streets any more than
was the big wagon-road running from the company’s
office to the landing further down, where the boats
were loaded, and later, where the dump-carts dumped
the slag into the empty barges, which carried it off to
fill the beds of the railroads that were beginning
to cross into a kind of network about the little town
of Chattanooga, further up the Tennessee. The paths
to the miners’ homes were “ walks;” the village ex-
isted, in the public mind, in the row of English houses
and the river. ven the schoolhouse which she voted
herself was a failure — together with the school — un-
til by a second vote it was removed to a site, if not so
elevated, one at all events commanding a view of the
river; the vox populi declaring “the children could
know nothing of the world with the schoolhouse set
back clean out of town.”

So it was set nearer, too dangerously near the brown
bank, some thought, and soberly shook their heads.
These were miners for the most part, who had come
up from the mines to assist in moving the house, and
were well acquainted with the tricks and treachery of
the yellow current swashing its brown banks under
the windows of the jaunty little schoolhouse perched
like a white bird, just above the latest “high-water
mark.”

But the Slipup folk were river folk, or thought they
were, and they laughed heartily at the idea of the
Tennessee taking any such aspiring leap.



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 17

«And if it should,’ they argued, “the children
know the way home, and it is always daylight when
school keeps.”

So the miners went back to their underground cells,
all but one; old Beverly Brewer, the ex-convict, still
hung around the schoolhouse with the village people,
who were still laughing at the warning against the
evil attendant upon “running in the face of Provi-
dence.”

He was “ not a man to talk,” the mining people said
of Brewer. And they whispered to each other that he
was “cracked,” “trouble-crazed, like old Nan, the
watcher,” only, they said, “not quite so bad.” He
had said a good deal more than was his habit against
the removal of the schoolhouse, and even after it was
done it seemed impossible for him to reconcile himself
to the change. His old face, deep-scarred with care .
and with age, wore a troubled look. His form seemed
even more bent than usual, as if the weight of danger,
if danger there really was, rested upon him alone, and
was hard to bear. He walked around the building
again, sighted the current, glistening between its
banks like a silvery belt; sighted it between his
half-closed fingers, as if to measure well the distances,
then shook his head solemnly, slowly; he knew the
old river, and had cause to shun it. Suddenly he
turned away from contemplating the stream, and
passed through the throng to where the tall form
of the superintendent rose above the little group of
villagers.



18 HERO-CHUMS.

The superintendent was about to move away when
he caught sight of the old miner. He had half a mind
to go on, but suddenly he remembered the little crutch
waiting on the “top step.”

« John would never forgive me,” he told himself,
and, withdrawing from his friends, he advanced to meet
the ex-convict.

“ Good evening, Brewer,’ he called, pleasantly. “I
think John is waiting on the doorstep to hear of the
removal of the house.”

The old miner touched his cap.

“They oughtn’t to ’a’ put it so nigh the water,
cap’n,” said he, using the title common among
miners when addressing an official; “they oughtn’t
to ’a’ put her so nigh the Tennessee. She'll scoop her
in some day, sir; mind what I say.”

The superintendent laughed.

“ You have been predicting evil too long,” said he.
“¢ Let me see, the first time I ever saw you, you were
foretelling our utter destruction when yon river should
rise and sweep the town away. And we are still here,
town, river, prophet, and all.”

“ You have Providence to thank for that, sir,” said
the old miner.

“ Well, then, we will still trust to Providence,” said
the superintendent.

«« And keep a boat handy, cap’n,”’ chuckled the old
man. “TI heard the little one, Master John, sir, talk-
ing about a fellow, one of his ‘ heroes, you know, sir,
that told his men to ‘trust to Providence and keep



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 19

their powder dry.’ ‘ Good advice, sir, for Slipup,’ says
I to Master John; and the same I say to Master John’s
father, sir. Trust to Providence and keep a boat
handy. The old Tennessee is tricky. I knows her.
‘She carried my wife away on her yellow bosom ten
years ago, and one of my boys is lying, sir, this ten
years, somewhere on her bed with the Belle of Chatta-
nooga and her gay young captain. She’s got many a
secret, the old yellow she-tiger. She is the meanest
river in the world, the Tennessee is, — meaner’n the old
Mis’sip’ hitse’f. For the old Mis’sip’ gives a warnin’
—a hiss and a sputter, and a roar that may be heard
for days, tellin’ you to ‘ git out o’ the way!’ But the
Tennessee lays low and sings, and rings, and sighs,
and gurgles, makin’ believe all’s steady, while ever’
stream and gully in the mountains air fillin’ brimful,
until, like a bilin’ pot, they bounds up and plunges into
the Tennessee, and like a flash o’ lightnin’ she’s up
and out on the warpath. Oh, I knows her, Cap’n
Weston. She’ll find Slipup some day, fast asleep in
her green hills.”

The superintendent did not smile this time. Few,
indeed, cared to smile when the old miner and ex-
convict began to tell about the ravages of the Tennes-
see. Mr. Weston knew the story of the old man’s
losses, which, they said, had somewhat unsettled his
reason, and had given to him the name of “ Old De-
spair.’ He knew the story of the pretty little boat,
the Belle of Chattanooga, that had disappeared one
dark night when a storm. swept the turbulent and

2



20 HERO-CHUMS.

overfull river, and had never been heard of since,
neither the boat nor the owner, “the little captain,”
the miners called him, nor Brewer’s son David, who
knew, as everybody else knew, that the captain had
money with him that night. Brewer’s other son had
disappeared the same night, with money, also, — the
company’s money.

Everybody refused to believe that two such similar
evils, occurring at one and the same time, were purely
accidental... Therefore the missing lads had been
branded as thieves, murderers, indeed, for the captain
was never heard of again.

The night recorded other misfortunes as well, as if
minded to set itself in black upon the minds and mem-
ories of men for ever.

The old Lodge mine had an explosion, and more
than one young life had gone out in the terrible fire-
damp supposed to have caused the accident. The
mine had never been opened again; the miners had
refused to work there. They held strange supersti-
tions concerning it.

They regarded it as a sepulchre; for although none
knew who had been caught by the accident, they knew
that — although it occurred during the night— more
than one had failed to come home next morning, al-
though there were wives and mothers waiting. Keep-
ing the breakfast until it was cold, “stone cold as
death,” they said, not knowing how the lads were
cold, too; stone cold as death. So, although nobody
knew positively they were in the mine, they knew



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 21

they did not come back, and that was knowledge
enough for misery.

But the night’s evil fell heavily, most heavily upon
old Beverly Brewer. Along with the other misfor-
tunes it took his good name. The very next week he
was arrested; it was all a circumstantial tangle about
the lost boat, the Belle of Chattanooga, and the missing
owner. And when, five years later, he returned from
prison with some great heroism credited .to his ac-
count, and a pardon in his pocket, to take up his life
again where misfortune interrupted, he was an old
man, gray, weary, and broken-hearted, full of a great
despair.

He went back to the mines, and to a little soot-
blackened shack in the cedars behind the row of Eng-
lish houses; the only soul in the village who had no
wish to live in the view of the river.

The old neighbours shunned him, he appeared so
changed, so silent, and when he took up his solitary
abode away and apart from them, they did not under-
stand that sorrow had pressed too heavily upon the
poor old heart, so that it refused to return to the old
humour of gladder days, making all life sombre and
grim and distrustful under its own black shadow. To
them he was only a returned convict, a half-crazed
creature, “ cracked in the brain,’ whose predictions of
evils made them shiver at times, at times laugh. They
spoke of him as “Old Despair,” and when the wind
blew, would mockingly ask him “if it would blow a
cyclone.” When it was hot they called it “Old De-



22 HERO- CHUMS.

spair’s drought,” and if it rained they would call to him
to know “if he was building his ark.” Others would
tap their foreheads when he passed and say “ crazy,”
or else “ Old Despair,” until the children caught the
words, and spoke of him in frightened whispers, or
ran away when they saw his bent figure coming down
the street.

All but one,— truly no man is so desolate he has
not one friend, and Old Despair had his. Between
him and this friend existed that strange, strong, and
rare affection which we sometimes have seen spring
up between youth and old age, and which exists no-
where else with such intensity and devotion. The
convict’s friend was a child; the little fair-haired son
of the superintendent, who leaned upon his crutch to
signal the passing boats or lay awake at nights to lis-
ten for the Red Cloud and Rapidan.

Perhaps it was of the boy the superintendent was
thinking when he said, in a half conscious way, after
the man’s outburst against the schoolhouse:

“ Well, well, we have much besides our personal
safety for which to thank Providence, you and I.”

The old man started angrily.

“Yes,” said he, “ hain’t I got a sight to be thankful
for? erly Brewer ain’t a rich superintendent of a richer
mining company, with the prettiest home in the vil-
lage, and a wife and son to live in it. You forget,
sir, my boys are lost, lost, — above ground or under
it, all the same they are lost. And you forget the



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 23

prison, and the long, black stain to my name. A
blamed sight to be thankful for! Good day, sir; or
rather, good night, for the sun’ll soon be goin” And
would you please to fetch this to the little master, sir,
and to tell him the wheelbarrer him and me air makin’
will be ready soon for me to come and fetch him over
to my shanty and to trundle him home in the new car-
riage, sir? Please present my respects to Master
- John, sir.”

He placed in the superintendent’s hand a boat, a
miniature toy of sweet red cedar curiously and exquis-
itely carved, with the name, “The John Weston,” in
bold relief upon the bow. A dainty and perfect piece
of work, betraying both the artistic eye and the skil-
ful hand.

The superintendent’s cold eye took in the careful
- workmanship at a single glance, and flashed a sudden
pleasure.

«“ What an exquisite design,” he said, touching with
his white, scholarly fingers the carving where the
knife had let in a white grain of the wood here and
there, among the rich, dark colours. ‘ Why, Brewer,
you are an artist; this is worth —”

“The little master will understand, sir,’ inter-
rupted the old man. “ He is lookin’ for his boat in
to-night, Master John is. And now good-bye, sir, and I
thank Providence for the privilege of saying it, seeing
as I can’t for the life of me think of anything else for
which to thank.”

He turned away, the hard look of despair again
clouding his face. ;



24 HERO-CHUMS.

The superintendent placed his hand upon his arm
to detain him still a moment. The others had moved
off ; they stood almost alone.

“Don’t talk so;” the words were almost pleading.
“You have something to be thankful for, unless you
esteem it as nothing. My boy,” and the proud face
grew tender, “ loves you devotedly ; next to his mother
and me, I verily believe, and a pure child’s heart is
always worth thanking the Lord for, even if life be
otherwise barren. Remember that, and be grateful,
and I say again, thank Providence.”

“J will thank him when the Belle of Chattanoogy
gits in, sir, with my lost character; until then —”

“ Until then you must be‘ Old Despair, I suppose,”
said the superintendent, with a low laugh that showed
more vexation than mirth, as he turned away and
walked down the street, followed by Brewer, who
paused when he saw him ascend the stone steps
and open the little iron gate, then disappear in the
pretty cottage proudly denominated the “company’s
house.”

The old despair left his face almost entirely while
he stood there watching the square pane of frosted
glass which made the panel of the superintendent’s
front door. Indeed, a smile touched the corners of
his mouth, ever so faintly, and the faded old eyes
twinkled as jubilantly as if, defying bolt and panel, they
saw precisely what was going on within the pretty cot-
tage, and knew the identical moment when the little
red boat swung tantalisingly before a pair of earnest



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 25

blue eyes, with a command to “ guess who sent it.”
And the old ears caught, if the smile spoke truly, the
ringing and immediate response:

“My chum; my old friend Brewer sent it,. of
course.”

Then, if he really could see and hear what was go-
ing on in the company’s house, he must have heard the
superintendent tell his wife that “Old Despair was
on the prophet’s stool again.”

Then, too, he must have heard a commotion in the
room, the sound of a little crutch, muffled by soft car-
pets, the opening of a door carefully, the crutch again,
along the hall, muffled still by the carpet, then the
opening of the big front door, and then, —he truly
had a glimpse of Susan, the yellow nurse, who with-
drew the bolt, and then the little crutch clicked
upon the great stone steps, as a little figure in short,
white trousers, black stockings, and dainty slippers,
and the whitest of linen waists, came carefully down
the steps as fast as the poor little left limb and the
twisted foot would allow. The golden curls fell
about the tiny shoulders under the little straw cap.
And the little form leaned heavily upon the tiny
crutch. But there was nothing but joy in the voice
that was calling to the old convict.

“Oh, Mr. Brewer! Wait for me, sir. It’s me, sir,
your friend, John. Please wait. The crutch — won’t
— go — faster.”

As if the old fellow had not been standing stock-
still, waiting for that very figure and those identical



26 HERO-CHUMS.

words since the moment the front-door closed upon
the superintendent.

With the appearance of the young master the old
man’s interest in the company’s house evidently
ceased, for he busied his brain no longer with what
might be going on there. Had he done so, he might
have-guessed how the parents, hearing the door close,
glanced through the open window to see the white
linen run into the arms of the iron-digger. He might
have suspected the mother’s sigh for the fresh linen,
and the smile on her lip, deriding the tear in her eye,
when the linen was swung up to the old miner’s shoul-
der, as if she guessed the directions the little master
was giving:

“To a seat next your left ear, if you please.”

Yes, the two in the cottage watched the young-old
friends, — the golden head bent to the grizzled, a tiny
arm clasping a neck that had felt a harder yoke, two
small hands held fast in a safe, strong palm, while the
wee crutch was carried in the other, as carefully and
as sacredly as the owner of the pathetic little support
himself.

But they could not hear the conversation; they ~
only guessed that it concerned the little cedar boat
left upon the centre-table while its owner went to
meet the boat-maker.

« Are you glad to see me, dear old friend?” said
John, when he was satisfactorily seated beside “the
left ear.”

“ Mighty glad, Master Johnny —”



TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 27

“ John, if you please, sir, just plain John. I never
heard of a hero named Johnny. Although Mr. Mil-
ton, a poet, and Mr. Bunyan, and Mr. Adams, the
president, not the first man, were all called John.
Now trot away, old horsey; buckaty! buck! You
know what mother says: ‘ When the sun tips the rim
of Wallen’s Ridge, you must come home, John.’ And
it is tipping this very minute. So you had better trot
away, old horsey.. Buckaty! Buckaty!”

And the two at the window, not hearing one word,
’ but understanding thoroughly, smiled when the “ old
horsey” and its jaunty rider passed gaily down street
and out of sight.

The mother’s eyes were full of tears when the su-
perintendent passed his arm around her and drew her
head upon his shoulder.

“Leave them alone, little mother,’ he said. “No
child’s life has ever been in vain. And God, I think,
gives special sweetness to his crippled ones. At least
it has been so with ours, and I believe the little fellow
is destined to play a peculiar part in the life of that
old unfortunate. No two hearts were ever bound to-
gether like those two without God’s hand somewhere
among the cords. Leave them alone and see what
God is doing.”

The sun was ready to drop behind the mountain
when they heard the little crutch upon the step again.
They could hear his parting :

“ Good-bye, old chum. We are old friends, are we
not, Mr. Brewer ?”



28 HERO-CHUMS.

And the reply:

«The very oldest, Master John, and the very best.”

They heard, but they did not understand all that
had transpired in the old miner’s shack since the two
old friends had been gone.



CHAPTER II.
CONFIDENTIAL.

HEY were odd, but strangely congenial friends,
the ex-convict and the rich superintendent’s
son.

One so old and care-burdened, and bearing his mis-
fortunes with such rebellious bitterness; fretting
against the yoke, railing at fate, and aweary of the
world itself. The other so young, so delicately fair,
so childishly gentle, and full of that exquisite faith
that has its habitation only in the heart of a child.
Bearing his misfortune, too, with a patience and sweet-
ness which made him inexpressibly dear to the hearts
of his worshipping parents. The grimmest old miner
turned to catch another glimpse of the curly head as
it passed down the iron-dusted street, just above
Brewer’s grizzled locks. And the old wives, seeing
the two friends, smiled, and said:

“There goes old soot-black and lily-white.”

But the friends themselves were blissfully uncon-
scious of observation or of criticism. John was
anxiously watching the sun, creeping nearer and
nearer the ridge.

« Hurry up,” he said, “I am going home with you

29



30 HERO-CHUMS.

to see the wheelbarrow you are making. I waited a
long time on the top step, you know, because I can
see plumb clear to the mine from there. Susan
says ‘plumb clear, and I think it is a nice word,
though I don’t remember that any of the heroes said
it, unless it was Andrew Jackson. I don’t quite say he
did, but I think he might have. He said some very
strong words, I know, and I think he said ‘plumb
clear. Anyhow, it was either him or Susan, I plumb
clear forget which. There! I see the shack, and there’s
smoke coming out of the funny little chimney. That
makes me think of roasted chestnuts, or potatoes
roasted with their jackets on. Do hurry! Oh, I do
just love a nice shack, with the smoke and the stick
chimney, and the creaky door, and the plank floor
that goes whackety-whack whenever you put your foot
down on it. And when I get to be a man, a rich
man, I am going to live in one, and roast potatoes and
be a hero like Napoleon and Henry Clay, and you, my
old chum.”

“Umph!” said the old man; but the grunt was
lost in the “ whackety-whack ”* of the planks as the
“ old horsey ” stepped upon the little platform before
the shack door and began to “nose around” under
the loose planks for his key.

“ Hurry up,” said John, who had been safely depos-
ited upon the yellow poplar boards until the door
should be opened. “Hurry up, sir; the sun is just
skipdaddling around to the tip mark. Here we are,
and if I don’t smell baked apples sprinkled with brown



CONFIDENTIAL. 31

sugar, my name isn’t John Weston, junior, ‘ chip off
the old block, as Mr. Baldwyn says. Hand me my
crutch, my old friend. Thank you, sir, and oh, —”

He had skipped half-way across the room, with
that plaintive nimbleness that comes to those in whose
wee hands misfortune places the crutch early ; a mo-
tion resembling more that of a crippled sparrow than
of a human being. He leaned upon his crutch with
both hands folded, a kind of ecstatic delight in the
very position, while his eyes danced joyously as he con-
templated the slow fire in the large, open fireplace,
and the juicy apples roasting upon the rude hearth.

For a moment neither spoke. The old man was
watching his young guest, while the child had forgot-
ten everything but the scene before him.

Suddenly he turned, and, with a gesture not unwor-
thy either of the great men whose names and deeds
he was so fond of quoting, said, in a voice of com-
mand :

“ Bring out the mats,” and when the order was
being executed, “ Now,” he continued, “we will be
confidential.”

He had been there so often before, was so entirely
at home with the lonely old man,—who added so
much to the little life hampered by affliction, that his .
parents did not have the heart to interfere with the
strange friendship, knowing that crippled feet are not
often like to go astray, whatever be the association, —
that he waited for his mat, a rude shuck seat made
for especial use, and then seating himself comfortably



82 HERO-CHUMS.

upon it before the fire, his crutch lying beside him,
together with his cap, motioned to the old man to fol-
low his example. He no more thought of refusing an
order than did the soldiers an order of Napoleon’s.

The child smiled, and brushed the bright curls
back from his face.

“ Now, Mr. Brewer,” he said, “this is confidential,
isn’t it?”

“ Which ?”

“ Confidential; that means close together, I guess.
T saw father talking confidential with Mr. Baldwyn,
the president of the coal and iron company, last night.
And they sat close together, — very close, like we are
sitting, — only, father’s hand was on Mr. Baldwyn’s
knee. May I put my hand on your knee, Mr.
Brewer? We’re such old friends, you know. Thank
you, sir; it feels more confidential, and I have some-
thing to ask you, Mr. Brewer, that is confidential, too.
Father was reading from the hero books last night
and made me think of it. You know what the hero
books are, don’t you, Mr. Brewer ?”

“ Can’t say as I do, precisely, Master Johnny.”

“ Just John, if you please, sir, plain John. Well, the
hero books, my old friend, are the books about An-
drew Jackson and Oliver Cromwell and Napoleon and
all those. Father reads about them to me every
night before mother sings ‘Safe in the Arms.’ And
then I choose my heroes. I have lots of heroes, Mr.
Brewer, oh, so many ; most a world full. Td like to
be a hero, too, some day, but I reckon I can’t, because



CONFIDENTIAL. 33

of the crutch, though mother says I can; not a hero
like Napoleon, but a character hero. Napoleon was a
war hero. Father read out of the books last night,
and it made me think of something. So I asked
mother to keep back ‘Safe in the Arms’ a minute,
till I could think. And I thought—TI reckon you
couldn’t guess what I thought, could you?”

The old man hesitated, tapped his forehead with
his finger, and said:

«“ Let me see now, — you didn’t think about earth-
quakes, surely, I reckin, Master John ?””

“No, sir,” said John. “ Guess again, Mr. Brewer.”

“ Battles, sir? Could it have been about battles
and soldiers?”

John shook his head.

“Try again, my old friend.”

“ Surely, little master,” said the old man in a tone
of great doubt, “it couldn’t, ’m p’intedly sure it
couldn’t ’a’ been 0’? me as you were a-thinkin’.”

“Oh, but it was,’ shouted John, his blue eyes
sparkling with delighted surprise. “It was of your
very own self I was thinking while father read the
hero books. And it is about that very thing I want to
talk to you this very minute. But first, sir, I want
to ask you if we are not very, very confidential friends,
you and I?”

“ Mighty close friends, sir.”

The little white hand, with a slender golden circlet
upon one of the baby fingers, rested trustfully upon
the knee of the “close” old friend. Now and then



84 HERO -CHUMS.

the miner’s hard palm passed tenderly over the
delicate fingers, every stroke a caress. For a mo-
ment both were silent. It was John who broke the
silence.

“ My friend,” he said, “if my apple is done, and
I think it is, for the sizz has all run out on the
hearth, I’d like to eat it off your wife’s blue china
saucer, — the ‘only one left, you know. And I wish
you would crack the door a little, so that we can see
the sun, for I most know he is slipping up to the tip,
—he always does when I am here. But I forget
unless the door is open, and I can see the black old
mountain outside.”

“Tt is a bit airish outside, little master, at sunset,
even in June-time,” said the miner, “but I’ll keep my
eye on the tip, sir, while we are talking.”

“Get out the blue saucer then, sir,’ said John.
“ We'll have to talk while we eat, for I want to hear
the story of the big storm that ‘black, black night,’
when the freshup took your house away, and ‘the
Belle of Chattanoogy went down, down, down, to the
bottom, like you said, with your son Dave and
the gay little captain. I like to hear about it, — it
truly sounds like stories of the big ships in the hero
books that Lord Nelson commanded. I told father
so, and he said it was only a little pleasure-boat; but
he said pleasure-boats could have their heroes as well
as ironclads. And coal-barges and flatboats, too, for
that matter. So if you will please to begin, my old
friend, for I am truly very un-un-easy about that sun.



CONFIDENTIAL. 35

Will you keep your eye on the tip mark? I promised
mother, sir.”

The old miner lifted the blue china saucer, the one
beloved relic of his. old home, from the tall mantel-
shelf, and placing the largest of the roasted apples
upon it, proceeded to wait upon his young guest, who
was sitting cross-legeed, like a Turk, upon his shuck
mat. The second apple was set aside.

“Keep it for my supper,” the host explained ;
“and while you are eatin’ of yours I'll whole up
the wheelbarrer.”’

“That will be real nice,’ said John, “ but first, if
you please, won’t you punch up the gold dollars ?
I do so enjoy hearing them go crackling up the black
chimney. There’s the poker, sir, right under your
foot. Oh, but that’s magnificent, sir! And there!
That’s more magnificenter than ever.”

The childish face shone with delight while the
long poker, in the strong hands of the coal-digger,
played among the bright logs, sending the fiery
sparks crackling up the chimney.

“That will do, and thank you, sir,’ said John.
“Now draw up your wheelbarrow work and take
a seat on your mat. We’re going to converge about
the old Belle of Chattanoogy. Will it disturb you if
I put my hand on your knee sometimes while you’re
talking? Tl only put it between bites, and it will
mean to say I understand you, without incorrupting
you. Do you mind?”

“Not a bit, sir; not a bit. It will help to keep



36 HERO-CHUMS.

the old man awake, sir.
tolerable sleepy sometimes.”

“That it will, sir. Most every night, or nearly
most every night, when I’m lying on the white bear
— that’s the rug — listening to father read from the
hero books, just most knowing l’m going to stay
awake, anyhow till mother sings ‘Safe in the Arms,’
and first thing I know I’m in my little brass bed,
with Susan waking me up to get up, and it’s day and
father’s finished reading; and then I just know the
fire did it. It’s very odd, sir.”

“Mighty quare,” declared the old man, soberly;
“mighty quare. Anybody in the books do that way?”

John dropped his chin, thoughtfully.

“Vm not quite certain,’ he said, “but there is
a picture of Sir Isaac Newton, a perlosopher hero,
sitting before his fire, and I think, I’m most sure
—father says we’re never quite sure of anything
in this world, ’cepting taxes —but I’m most sure
Sir Isaac is nodding. Now, Mr. Brewer, before the
sun gets to the tip, please tell me about the boys.
T’m most fonder of them than anything, I expect;
unless it’s father and mother, and the wheelbarrow,
and the heroes, and you, sir. Begin at the time when
‘Dave was a rafterman and went with his friend,
Captain Morton, up to Bridgeport, on the poor little
Belle of Chattanoogy, and Dick worked in the old
Lodge mine as boss.’ It’s awful interestin’ and —
sorryful; more sorryfuller every time I hear it, sir,”

The old miner’s brow was knitted.



CONFIDENTIAL. 387

“Don’t call that little water-devil the ‘ poor little
Belle,” said he. “She was just full o’ evil, — fetched
bad luck every blessed time she set out on a trip.
But the boys loved her; Dave set a sight o’ store by
the little concern.”

The old face softened ; he was fond of talking about
his brave young sons; talking about them seemed to
keep them near him, somehow, and this little child-
friend was the only listener he ever had. ‘True, he
was entirely satisfactory ; the old man, indeed, often
told himself that he had “talked to a sight worse
company,” — meaning the nights when, alone in the
shack, he had rehearsed the story of his wrongs to
himself, always consoling himself with the reflection
that the boys would never have left him to bear the
burden of their unexplained absence, except the earth
held them prisoners. They were surely dead; he felt
it. Yet he felt, too, that, dead or alive, they would
return at last, sometime, somehow, to set their old
father’s name right before the world. He never ex-
pressed this hope, however, except to the child, and
upon him he always imposed a promise of strictest
secrecy.

“ Confidential, Master John,’ he began, as usual,
and, as usual, came the response:

“ Confidential, dear old chum.”

The little hand with its wee gold ring slipped to
the old man’s knee again, meaning confidence and
sympathy, and then the old story of man’s misfortune
and fate’s mysterious rulings was told again.



38 HERO-CHUMS.

“ Well, Master John,” said the ex-convict, “we had
a cabin, Mary and me, up the river a piece towards
Inman. We had two boys, — big, healthy boys, and as
good ones as ever lived. Five graves in the woods
back o’ the cabin told where the other children were,
all of them, until a little gal baby come to stay; just
eighteen years after Dave. We-uns was pow’ful glad
to see her, Master John, pow’ful glad.

“ Dave was a river chap, — took to the water like a
fish, — just couldn’t keep ’way from it, nohow. He
made rafts and kerried of ’em down to Alabamy till
Cap’n Morton bought the Eureky coal bank, and come
to live long o’ we-uns till he could get a house ready
to fetch his young wife to. Him and Dave took to
one nother like twin brothers. Both was pow’ful
fond o’ the river, too, and used to go off together on
it for days and days. They’d a’most died for one
“nother, them two would. Dave tended the coal-
boats that run to Bridgeport, where the railroad took
charge o° the truck.

“Then the cap’n he bought a little concern, a yacht
they called it, and it certainly wasn’t fitten for such a
tricky old river, Master John, and Dave he was took
off’n the coal-boats, and put to tend the yacht.

“They named her the Belle of Chattanoogy, count 0’
that bein’ the cap’n’s first home, and his wife’s home,
and they both so fond o’ it.

“She was surely built for bad luck, Master John;
she never set out but somethin’ happened. Once a
coal bank caved in, and once the prisoners broke out



CONFIDENTIAL. 389

o’ the stockade over at Inman, and once the miners
struck at the old Lodge mine, and once she sprung a
leak. Allus somethin’. The Belle of Chattanoogy
was just another name for bad luck.

“But the cap’n set a sight o’ store by her. He
lowed he could git up and go home any time he’d a
mind to, without waitin’ for the reg’lar boats or the
flats with the coal and iron.

“So him and Dave kept the little water-devil,
and a’most lived in it, you might say.

“« Dick, my other boy, took to the mines; he was a
born miner, Dick was, and a natural underground en-
gineer. He worked for the cap’n at the Eureky coal
mines till the Lodge mine was opened here, and a
company took hold of it, and put out a sight o’ money
for working it. For the ore was iron, and convenient
to the furnaces, and the Lodge had a good name for
the quality of her ore.

«“ So Dick, he come up here and got a job, ’count 0’
Luke Ford, Cap’n Morton’s head boss. Him and Dick
couldn’t agree, so Dick left, and got hisself made first
boss o’ the Lodge mines instead. *T'was an awfully
responsible place, for the Lodge was known to have
death-damp, and once a gallery collapsed without a
minute’s warning, and this was why she had been
closed up. Dick knew the place by heart, and after
’while he was made inspector.

“ One night, a black, black night, and such a storm
a-ragin’, —I rickollict that night, becase all my nights
since have been of a shade like that one.”



40 HERO-CHUMS.

He paused to sigh, and to caress the little hand
that was laid again upon his knee.

“The cap’n got word,” he continued after awhile,
still stroking the tiny fingers, “that his wife was a
dyin’. Dyin’, and the Tennessee kiverin’ every foot 0’
ground ’twixt here and Bridgeport, wher’ the railroad
passed, and half the woods in the county float’n about
in the bed o’ the river, it seemed to me. I was up at
the cabin with Mary and the little gal when the cap’n
got word o’ his wife’s sickness. The telegraph fetched
it. Him and Dave was workin’ down at the landin’
tryin’ to fasten the coal-barges to somethin’ to keep
’em from float’n clear away, when the cap’n’s news
come. And when I went back to help, the Belle of
Chattanoogy was gone. Up the river in the drift and
danger, with my boy and the young cap’n.

“Dick, he was off somers, too,—to Bridgeport,
they “lowed, —I dunno. I ain’t never knowed nothin’
o’ them since. ‘They went down inter the darkness

‘an’ the silence o’ that orful night. The cap’n an’ his
little shell of a boat went, too, somers, — nobody ever
knowed where. There was some as said my boys
fo’ged the note o’ the cap’n’s wife’s sickness, an’ that
way tolled him off an’ robbed him of a bag o’ gold he
allus kept about him the end o’ the week, to pay off
the hands. But it was a lie. They-was my boys, an’
I reckin I ought to know what metal they was made
of. The man as told that word lied, an’ he’s dead,
too, I reckin, for he drapped out o’ sight long o’ the
balance. They lowed I killed him, and I spent five



CONFIDENTIAL. ea

years in the state prison for that allowin’. I didn’t
do it, though; Td like to ’a’ done it, but I didn’t.
An’ I have sometimes thought as how if I ever got
the chance I’d do it yit.”

“Mr. Brewer,’ — the little hand moved up and down
the coarse jeans, stopping now and then to pat, ever
so gently, the miner’s knee; “I believe I wouldn't,
Mr. Brewer. I don’t think the heroes in the books
ever did, except the war heroes, —they had to kill,
sometimes, — Napoleon, and Alexander, and Lord
Nelson, and them. But mother says that true heroes
don’t, — they forgive. And then you might be sent
off again, if you did, and your friends would miss you
so, — your real old friends. Five years is a long time.”

«“ A right peart chunk out o’ a feller’s life,” sighed
the old man. “There was a cave-in of the Lodge
mine soon after the storm I’m telling you about; jest
a day or so after that raskil, Luke Ford, started that
lie about my boys. Luke disappeared, an’ the next
week I was arrested for killin’ of him. That’s all,
Master John, — all we-uns knows o’ the matter.
_Maybe God an’ the old Tennessee knows more, an’ll
make it plain in their own good time.”

There was a sigh, followed by a silence, while the
two “old friends’’ sat gazing into the red coals, each
busy with his own thoughts. The blue china saucer
had been set aside with the apple peel and core, which
the wee Chesterfield had been told it was “ vulgar ”
to eat. His right elbow rested upon the little knee,
which the tiny pants failed to cover. The delicate



42 HERO-CHUMS.

chin was supported by one hand, while the other
strayed caresgsingly over the miner’s brown jeans a
moment more, then disappeared in the great brown
palm of the older “friend,” and was held in a strong,
close clasp.

“They were nice boys,” declared the younger
“friend.” “Dave was a hero after—I always
say after, when I mean like,--and Dave was a
hero after John Howard Payne. You know he went
off, too, Mr. Brewer, to Africa. And when he came
home he was dead; and everybody was sorry, and
went to see him buried. He had been dead thirty
years when they buried him at home. Dave makes
me think of him. I feel like he might come home,
too, sometime, to be buried, and everybody turn out
to the funeral to pay for that ‘black, black night,’
The Tennessee has treated you outrageously. And it
took your house, too, Mr. Brewer ?”

«“ Aye, an’ wife an’ little gal. I was off with a lot
_o’ men tryin’ to find the wreck © the Chattanoogy
Belle. Fiver’thing was under water still, — the Ten-
nessee was on a reg’lar tear, an’ still risin’. But
who’d ever thought o’ it reachin’ my cabin? We
was out all night, an’ the next mornin’ at sunup
we started down to Muscle Shoals on the track 0’
the Belle. We knowed she never could cross that
ole gov’mint stumblin’-block, nohow.

“ All at once one o’ the men called to us to look at
somethin’ comin’ down the river. Lots o’ things had
floated by the day before, — chicken-coops, dog-ken-



CONFIDENTIAL. 43

nels, an’ wagon-beds, showin’ how the barns an’ yards
had been flooded. But when the chairs and tables
begin to come, we knowed the Tennessee had riz into
the houses. Once we sighted a kurus little craft, that
turned out to be a cradle, with a little bald-headed
baby fast asleep in it. The cradle struck our raft,
and splashed the water in the little one’s face, so as
it waked up an’ laffed. We retched out to take it,
but afore we could tetch it, the thing tilted, an’ the
baby dropped out o’ sight. We heard it coo in its baby
way, as it disappeared, — went straight to God, with
that laff on its pretty lips.

“ But this time it wasn’t a cradle; it was a house,
or a piece of one, and in a minit I see it was mine.
It lodged in a wild-haw thicket, where the water beat
it to pieces. When we-uns got to it there was nothin’
in it but a bed that was made into the side o’ the
wall, an’ layin’ on it was my wife an’ little gal. Both
were dead, an’ on my wife’s temples was a big black
bruise, where a fallin’ beam had struck her senseless,
as I ‘lowed, an’ the little gal had crep’ close up into
her mammy’s arms, with her feet drawed up, as if
they was tryin’ to get away from the water, when the
cold Tennessee tetched ’em. Both gone, all gone,
all, all!”

The old man spoke slowly, with his head dropped
forward on his breast, and his hand still clasping the
little warm fingers of his child-friend. A tear trem-
bled upon the boy’s long lashes, which all his efforts
at heroism were powerless to stay.



44 HERO -CHUMS.

“ Dear old friend,” he said, when he had somewhat
gained control of his emotions, “I hope you will
excuse me for cryin’. I’m afraid it isn’t manly. I
can’t think of a hero who ever did; but, indeed, sir,
I saw, or thought I saw, that little baby laugh,
and when I went to laugh back at it, the Tennessee
seemed to slap me in the face, and make me blind.
And when I could see clear again, the little baby had
gone; disappeared in the cold water. I’m afraid that
Pm very much afraid of the water, sir. Do you think
it’s cowardly to be afraid of the water? I hope not,
sir. And, would you please not hold my hand quite
so tight? The ring hurts it a little. I am sure it
is the ring’s fault. Thank you, sir; see what a red
mark it made.”

He lifted his hand, to find it again clasped, loosely,
but tenderly, between the brown palms of his old
friend.

“ Why, what a bear’s hug the ole paw did give it!”
said Brewer, stroking gently the child’s hand. They
were such old friends! Even a hero-worshipper could
receive tenderness from an old, old friend and com-
rade. The bit of flattery, too, was not objectionable,
coming from such a source. “It’s a nice hand,’— he
inspected it closely, —‘‘a nice little ba—hero’s
hand.”

“Thank you, sir,” said John. “I was a little
afraid you were going to call it a baby’s hand. It
is a nice ring, too; don’t you think so?”

“A mighty nice ring, sir. But don’t it look a

>



CONFIDENTIAL. 45

leetle like a gal’s ring? It couldn’t be a gal’s ring,
Master John ?”

“No, indeed!” shouted John. “It is a hero’s
ring. Tm s’prised you'd think it a girl’s ring when
it’s a hero-ring. Not that I’m a hero, but it’s just
a sign—a thimble, I think mother said— that ’m
growing to one all I can. Thimble isn’t quite the
word, unless you lisp. I lisp a little sometimes, and
so I say thimble when I mean thimble. You under-
stand ?”

“T see,” said the old man, “I see. It’s a symbol
ring, then?”

“Prezactly! Mother gave it to me for having a
tooth pulled out with a pair of iron tweezers, and not
crying. None of my heroes cry. Yes, Alexander
the Great cried. It was a very foolish cry, though.
Just sat down and cried because he whipped the
whole world, and couldn’t find anything else to whip.
Mother gave me the ring to remind me that I was
a hero. Not a grown-up one like Socrates and
Achilles, you know. But little heroes can grow up
to big ones if they keep on a-heroing; don’t you
reckon they can?”

“ Most sure of it,” declared the old man, “if they
don’t get a back-set to cramp their growth.”

“J thank you, sir. I thought so, too. Wouldn’t
you like to have a hero-ring, Mr. Brewer?”

“ More better than anything in this world, Master
John.”

“Then you shall have it,” declared John. “Tl



46 HERO-CHUMS.

ask mother about it this very night, and—oh! I
forgot the tip, I did forget it entirely. And the sun
has passed it, sir. T’m most sure it has. Do look,
sir, and see. I would be very sorry if I let the sun
pass the tip.”

The old man arose and opened the door. As he
did so there was a hurried crackling of the rude
platform before the cabin, and in the pretty moun-
tain twilight a figure moved hastily away in the
uncertain light. ‘The miner watched it narrowly ;
there was a familiar dignity in the upright carriage
that belonged neither to the mines nor to the river
men. The mists were heavy already, for the little
valley town, shut in by the mountains and cut by the
big Tennessee, was, as the old miner said, “ airish
even in June-time,” and the twilights there fall early.
The retreating figure was making the most of the
uncertain light, but, dim as it was, the convict recog-
nised him, and wondered what it meant.

“Not eavesdroppin’, surely,” he muttered, “ yet
it do certainly p’int that away. Master John, the
tricky ole sun’s got the drop on us this time, sure.
But the ole horse’ll fetch you home in a twinklin’.
Up, sir, and mount. Ready? The crutch belongs
to me, you know. All right, sir, and will you just
keep a firm holt till I can chuck the key under the
boards, sir? Now, sir, and —buckaty! buckaty!”

And away they went, those two old friends, in the
wake of the figure that had disappeared in the mists.
And the child laughed and chatted in his artless way,



CONFIDENTIAL. 4T

while the old man’s heart hardened with new doubts
and suspicions of a fresh injustice. And when at
last he had deposited his charge safely upon the “ top
step” of the superintendent’s house, and turned back
into the white mists towards his lonely shanty, his
lips found expression for the feelings burning in his
heart.

“Did he think I wouldn’t do to trust?” he mut-
tered. “Was he watchin’ and listenin’ to see if Old
- Despair’s talk and company was fitten for his son?
If not, what was he skulkin’ about. my door for?”

He paused and drew his hands into fists; his teeth
were set in his lips, like a wild beast’s.

“Oh, but men air mean,” he hissed ; “ all men air
mean.” :

He had cause to think so, perhaps, so is injustice
wont to breed doubt. se

« All men air mean. It is only the little ones who
air good.”

And thinking of the “little one,’ the child who
called himself his “dear old friend,” the bruised old
heart softened, the fingers loosened; the lips fell
again into their patient quiet; aye, they smiled,
' thinking, as he was, of the child.

A child; yet one destined to colour and reshape
the ruined life of the despairing old convict.



CHAPTER III
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT.

HE days passed quietly at Slipup, despite the

boats and the clatter of the furnace on the hill,

the rattle of the slag-carts, or the shouts of the miners

passing to and from the mines; the iron mines on one

side the town and the coal in the mountains upon the
other side.

Nature surely has never smiled more benignly upon
any spot than she has upon the little valley about
Slipup. First, the valley itself, — green, summer or
winter, — protected by the mountains, fed by the
river; and, as if still fearful lest her gifts had been
scant, the good mother of mankind has crammed the
mountain upon the one hand with iron, while into
that upon the other she has stocked her stores of coal.
Hard indeed is it to believe that despair can intrude
upon such bountiful prosperity.

It was high noon of a day in June, and Saturday.
The men were preparing to leave the mine, according
to their custom, Saturday afternoon.

Brewer had been promising John a peep at the old
sealed entrance to the Lodge, “come another good

Saturday.”
48



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 49

One of the miners’ wives, looking from her window
to see if the men were coming to their dinner,
said :

“ Yonder goes Old Despair and the little master.”

And her voice was a trifle more tender when she
turned to her own toddler that had vexed her sorely —
all day, and bade him “run to the pile for a handful
of chips.” Unconsciously, she had emphasised the
command to run. Yet, at the moment, she felt no
resentment towards the rich lady in the superintend-
ent’s house. She remembered that her son was a
cripple, and for the time she, the humbler mother of
the miner’s child, could afford to pity. Perhaps she
would have reserved her pity could she have heard
the conversation of the lame boy, as old Brewer
trudged away with him past the long line of
shacks.

“Mr. Brewer,’ he was saying, “ wouldn’t it be a
fine thing if the Tennessee could carry boats plumb
clear to the Ohio ?”

«“ A mighty fine thing, Master John,” said the old
man, “but I reckin as it ain’t likely to be, so long as
the Muscle Shoals have got a say-so in it.”

“ Yes,’ said John, “I heard father talking last
night to Mr. Baldwyn. He didn’t know I was in the
room at first, for I always try to touch the floor easy
with my crutch, ’count o’ mother. I think it hurts
mother, somehow, when my crutch goes heavy, for I
have seen the tears in her eyes. And one day I asked
her if the noise made her nervous, because the doctor



50 HERO-CHUMS.

told father once she was very nervous. But she took
me on her lap and held me close up in her arms, and
cried on my curls. I know she did, because Susan
brushed them out and asked me if I had been out in
the rain. So I try to touch the floor easy, so’s mother
won’t be nervous. And last night, when I went in,
father and Mr. Baldwyn didn’t hear me; and father
was saying, ‘It makes me think of some lives, so grand
and full, and capable of so much, but having one great
stop, just like the big shoals, to hinder and spoil their
beauty.’ Then I knew they were talking about the
Tennessee. And Mr. Baldwyn said the government
was going to take hold of that old pile some day, and
blow an opening through it. But father didn’t think
so. ‘It’s like the lives I spoke of, he said; ‘there
for a purpose.’ Then he talked so low I couldn’t hear,
but I heard Mr. Baldwyn say, ‘ He is a little hero.’
And I spoke up from my corner, where I was resting,
and said, ‘Who? Who is a hero, Mr. Baldwyn ?’
For I thought it was some new one. And father
laughed so queer that I peeped into his eyes, and they
were all full of tears. I don’t think he could have
been crying about me. Do you think so?”

“No, sir; no, indeed, sir. Why should anybody cry
about Master John, indeed ?”

“That's what I say!” cried John, jubilantly. “TI
thought for a minute it just might be about this crutch,
you know; but I reckon it couldn’t. It must have
been because of ‘ the lives’ he told about, —‘ so grand
and full and capable of so much,’ but with the ‘ great



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 51

stop. Do you think father could have been crying
for ‘ the lives,’ Mr. Brewer ?”

“ Maybe, Master John,” said the old man; “ maybe.
You can’t always tell.”

“ That’s so,” said John. “It might have been just
the shoals, you know, made him cry; though I don’t
quite think so. IJwish you would carry me up to that
green bluff a minute; I want to look down the river.
I just do love to look down the old Tennessee. There
‘is always something there makes you feel like you
could put out your fingers and pull away a veil and
look right straight at God. Did you ever feel that
way ?”

“ Yes, little master, many a time. But more often
it seems as if the good Lord was far, very far away,’
said the old friend, sadly.

“Yes, that is when the sun shines,” said John,
“and the veil is gold. Motier calls it a mist; and
when I told her how I felt about it, she said, ‘It often
requires a mist to make us feel that God is near.’
Now, sir, here we are on the green bluff among the
mists. Kase me down, my friend, so I can feel the
green grass softing my feet.”

He lifted the light weight from his shoulder, not re-
linquishing his hold entirely until the little twisted foot
was supported by the crutch. It was a favourite spot
with both, the green bluff overlooking the mist-mel-
lowed river and the valley nestled among the purple
distances. To the right of them the big furnaces
belching forth their smoke and flame as they made



52 HERO-CHUMS.

run after run of pig-iron; the slag-carts clattering
down to the dump-pile; while off to the left the coal-
diggers were issuing from the dark mine’s mouth,
laden with their tools and dinner-pails. Before them,
as they stood upon the bluff, the old, forsaken Lodge
mine told the story of the great disaster that had he-
fallen the village years before.

The old miner’s face clouded as his gaze fell upon
the once flourishing but now ruined mine.

“Tt don’t seem’s anything’s finished, hereabouts,”
he muttered. “There’s the river blockaded into
three pools, as you might say, so’s the boats can
only paddle about for a few miles, like ducks in a
mill-pond, ’stid o’ sailin’? on to the Ohio, as they
might ’a’ done if it wasn’t for the shoals and the -
mount’n obstructin’ of the way. And then there’s
the mines,—the long tunnels only half worked,
count o° accidents and the fear o’ accidents.”

He had forgotten the presence of the child, and all
his old bitterness came bounding into life again, as it
always did when he allowed himself to reflect upon
those things which he considered had worked his
ruin. But John, from association with his elders
and the affliction which had thrown him upon books
for company and friends, had acquired that habit of
thinking which comes early and with strange power
to the afflicted. He had listened quietly to the old
man’s complaints. Then he said:

“There are no such things as accidents. I heard
father say so. They are opportunities. Some people



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 58

called it an accident when the apple fell at Sir Isaac
Newton’s feet; but it was only Sir Isaac’s oppor-
tunity come to him. LEverybody’s opportunity comes
sometime. Mine will come some day, too, though
I do have to carry this.”

He laughed as he touched the crutch. The words
and gesture made the old friend think of what he had
said about the river, —‘“It takes a mist to make us
feel that God is near.” Perhaps this was his mist,
this little wooden crutch, —his “ opportunity,’ that
had come to him in such pitiful disguise. Who
knew ?

“ James Watt,’ continued John, “learned from a
lobster-shell on his dinner-table how to carry pipes
under the Clyde River, which had a very bad bed
for pipes. And Mr. Baldwyn. himself told me that
electricity for the telegraph was found first in a
frog’s leg. I asked him to tell me all about it, for
I wanted to know. He said Galvani, a ’lectricity
hero, saw a frog’s leg jump when it touched certain
kinds of metals, and that he made it his opportunity
for great inventions. Oh, but there’s lots of those
accident heroes! But I think that word ought to
be skipped plumb out of the dictionary.”

“Umph!” said the old man. “ Would you call
the cave-in of the old Lodge an opportunity, Master
John?”

John was silent a moment.

“ Well,” said he, “I can’t say plumb clear, but it
surely must be, though I can’t explain it. What are



54 HERO-CHUMS.

all those people doing over there at the mine? They
don’t look like the miners, and they haven’t got any
dinner-buckets. And oh, look! They are going
straight to the old Lodge. What can it mean?”

He pointed excitedly towards a group that was
collecting about the blockaded tunnel that had once
been the mouth of the Lodge mine.

“They’re going to fly into the face of Providence,
by digging a new tunnel,” said the old man. “ But
ivll be the death o’ them as tries it, Master John.
The rats left the old hole long ago, and when the
rats leave a mine it’s always unsafe. Any sort 0’
miner’ll tell you so. There’s all kinds o’ folks down
there, — diggers, and inspectors, and engineers, and
little fellers with hammers and eye-glasses as have
been huntin’ fer ferns and fishes in the coal mine
over yander. Fools, I call ’em; expectin’ to find
fishes and shells two hundred feet underground!”

But John was deaf to all complaints; enthusiasm
shone in every feature.

« Oh,’’ he cried, “do let’s go down! I know what
it is. Mr. Baldwyn told me about it; he does just
love it so. Its geology, or science. Science is its
grown-up name, he says. And it’s about all sorts
of things away down, down, down, and nobody knows
how they got there, in the plumb bottom of the
earth. Do let’s go down. Mr. Baldwyn will be so
glad to know the geologers have been here, when
he gets back. Lift me up to the left ear, sir.
There! And now, buckaty! Your arms have such



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 55

a good feel about them ; just like when mother sings
‘Safe in the Arms.’ Just as if you most knew you
couldn’t slip, ’count of the arms, you know.”

The company had indeed decided to reopen the old
mine, but from a new point, on account of the supply
of rich ore-beds that had never been worked. The
former opening must not be tampered with, the en-
gineer said. As if they had not tried again and
again to force an entrance through the seemingly
solid mass which the great tragedy had heaped before
the first entrance. The workmen had arrived a few
days earlier than they were expected; but being
arrived, they were to remain; hence, there was no
need of haste on the part of the old friends. More-
over, the path was rather uncertain, and the “old
horsey”? none too sure of foot. They descended
slowly, carefully. John took advantage of the
tedium to deliver himself concerning a matter that
had lain heavily upon his heart for some time.

‘“‘ There’s something I want to tell you,” he began. —
«T went to the shack to tell you, but forgot it because
we talked about the Belle. Confidential, sir.”

“ Confidential, Master John.”

“ Mr. Brewer, the people ’round here call you ‘ Old
Despair’ !”

-“Umph! Let ’em; it can’t help nor hinder, as I
knows on,” growled the old miner. “T ain’t a-keerin’
for their say.”

“T know,’ said John, “but it ain’t p’lite, an’ I
thought Pd ’vise you to put a stop to it.”



56 HERO-CHUMS.

There was a twinkle in the faded eyes which but
a moment before had flashed angrily.

“Not easy to do, Master John,’ declared the
miner; “you know folks will talk.”

“JT know that, sir,” cried John, “that’s just what
mother says when old Mrs. Larkins has been paying
her a visit. But I was thinking you might put a stop
to the talk.”

“How, sir, how?” exclaimed the old man, with
great good humour. “Just tell me how to stop the
wag o’ the human tongue, and I'll tell the gov’ment
how to open up the Muscle Shoals. Name your plan,
Master John, an’ let’s see if the stock’s any good.”

“Oh, yowre so funny,” laughed John. “ You're
just like father, for all the world. He always says,
‘T’ll take some stock in that,’ or else, ‘That stock’s
no good. My plan is this: You are to become a hero.
There, isn’t that a fine plan? You are to be a real,
live hero.”

“A what?”

«A hero; a man whom everybody loves an’
respec’s, because he has done some great thing,
you know.”

“ But I know I ain’t done that, little master,” said
the old man.

“But you have,” cried John, with enthusiasm.
“Didn’t you stay out in a flatboat all night once,
helpin’ to save people that were washed away by
the freshup? And didn’t you lose your own wife |
and sons? And didn’t you—”



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 57

“Oh, ho! Stop a bit, Master John. You mustn’t
be tellin’ about that ’round here. That’s our secret,
our ‘ confidence,’ betwixt us two only, to wit.”

“T know, sir,” said John; “I’m not going to tell.
But you see, I know it, and so I know that you are
ahero. So, why couldn’t I just tell people so, with-
out ‘ going into retail,” as Mr. Baldwyn says.”

“Oh, yes, you may do that. Tell ’em I’m an old
‘hero, to be sure; but be sure not to tell how much
of an old hero, Master John. They’d be sure to come
serenadin’ o’ my door down some night, if you tell
too much.”

“Tl be careful,” said John; “but Vl tell them
you are a hero, and must not be called ‘ Old Despair’
any longer. Isn’t that crazy Nan coming towards us,
sir? And whatever can be the matter with her?”

A figure, tattered and unkempt, with loose, gray
hair hanging about a face from which the light of
reason had long fled, was running towards them.
She beckoned and gesticulated with her long arms,
pointing first towards the old mine, where the men
were collected, then towards the river; then clapped
her hands gleefully, and called to the miner to
“hurry and come on.”

“They’re goin’ to rip op’n the old Lodge, Brewer!”
she said, when, breathless and panting, she stood at
his side and plucked his sleeve. ‘“They’re goin’ to
rip it op’n. Oh Lord! Zhey don’t know what’s down
there. You and me does, Brewer. We knows.
They’re lookin’ for” —she put her mouth to the



58 HERO-CHUMS. ¢

miner’s ear, and whispered, as she walked on by his
side, — “fishes! Ha, ha, ha! Fishes in a mine!
Fools! Fishes stay in the river. They ought to
know, but don’t you an’ me tell ’em. Let ’em op’n
the mine; let ’em do it. We'll git our boys then.
Hush, don’t Iet’em hear. We'll git our boys then,
for decent buryin’; I only wants my son for decent
buryin’. You won’t tell ’em there ain’t no fishes in
the mine, will you, Brewer ?”

“Not I, Nan. Let ’em open the old mine if
they’re aimin’ to, an’ find what they can,’ said the
old miner, who felt ill disposed to tell the old woman
that the opening was to be a new tunnel, and not an
entrance into the old one.

“We'll git our boys, Brewer,” she talked on,
giggling and simpering, now and then dropping her
voice into a wail. “I got a good breakfast for
Tom,” she said. “Kept it waitin’ an’ waitin’ for a
hundred years; an’ at last it got stone cold an’
had to be flung out to the dogs. An’ he ain’t come
yit, nor your Dick neither, nor the company’s money
they said Dick stole. Never you min’, Brewer, we’ll
find it — we'll find it when they op’ns up the Lodge
after them fishes. Ha, ha, ha!”

So she rattled on, poor, crazy old Nan, whose boy
Tom had been among the missing that morning
after the collapse of the Lodge. She had waited
her breakfast all day, and roamed the river bank
in the storm all night, and when, the next morning,
ragged and bruised and torn, old Nan returned to



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 59

the cabin and the waiting breakfast, she was mad.
A harmless old creature who remembered nothing
save that awful night’s calamities, and who roamed
the streets, begging always for the body of her son
for “decent buryin’.”

As they approached the group of engineers, who
were beginning to place their instruments for sur-
veying, Nan’s excitement became intense.

“ Here’s Brewer,” she cried, to an old man who
had withdrawn himself somewhat apart from the
rest, and was intently examining some bits of coal
and slate that had been brought over from the
coal mine. “ Here’s Brewer; he knows what’s in
the old Lodge. ’Tain’t fishes. Oh Lord, fishes
in a coal mine! Why, it’s folks—skeletons that
ain’t- never been — ”

“ Wait there, Nan, youre about to tell! ”. shouted
John, impulsively.

The man with the specimens laughed outright.
But the next moment his keen eyes rested upon
the dainty little figure hoisted upon the old man’s
shoulder, and an expression of surprise, not unmixed
with admiration, came into them.

“ Hase me down, my old friend,” John was saying.

The man ceased laughing, and placed his hand
upon the boy’s head.

“ Hello, little man,” he said, “aren’t you a slip
of lost sunshine that has strayed off down here in
this grimy little village ?”

‘¢ Oh, no, sir!” shouted John, amused indeed that



60 HERO -CHUMS.

the man should think such a thing; “I’m just John,
plain John, the superintendent’s son. And this is my
hero. Everybody doesn’t know he is a hero, so they
call him ‘Old Despair’ And now, sir, wouldn’t you
let me see the fishes and ferns that have been ’ryste-
riously embezzled in the earth so long as to baffle
science, the grown-up name of the geologers; and
are they rizacles like Mathuselah, and are they truly
older than auntie Luvins, and who is auntie Luvins,
anyhow, sir?”

The strange man listened with amused attention
until John had ended his speech. Then he dropped
back against the rock and laughed aloud.

«“ Yes, John,” he said, “ they are rizacles. All cre-
ation was a rizacle, for that matter, little man, which
only the hand of a God could have performed. And
aunty Luvins is an old Latin hag that stands for ‘be-
fore the flood.’ When anything happened before the
great deluge, people say it is ante de luvian. Under-
stand? And now, what did you learn about those
‘miracles so mysteriously embedded in the earth as
to baffle science?’ That’s a big lesson for a small
boy.”

“Mr. Baldwyn, sir,” said John. “ He’s a geologer,
too. I heard him telling father.”

The strange man smiled again.

“Do you see this bit of coal, John, and these
rocks ?”’ he said, displaying several choice specimens
that he brought up from a bag swung upon his arm.

John was lifted to a seat beside his new friend,





«¢WELLO, LITTLE MAN, AIN’T YOU A SLIP OF LOST SUNSHINE?’”









OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 63

beaming with anticipation. Mr. Brewer took a con-
venient stand near by. Crazy Nan, too, climbed upon
the rock and listened, or seemed to, quietly and not
without interest. The strange man displayed a small,
flat piece of slate, upon which were the fossilised out-
lines of a fern, delicately and exquisitely traced.

“Oh!” cried John, “ how ever did it get there with
the mountains piled on top of it, if you please, sir?”

“ Ah,my boy,” and the face of the old geologist be-
came grave, “the world would give a good deal, the
world of science, to be able to answer that question
to its own satisfaction. It has puzzled older heads
than yours and mine. But shall I tell you about those
little ferns and shells and tracks of curious insects we
prowlers find away down under the mountains and
mines and secret places ?”

“Tf you only would,” said John. “Why, it would
be better, or most as better, than the hero books. But,
sir, can’t Mr. Brewer sit here? He’s my friend. We
are very old friends, indeed ; old and confidential. And
he is a hero, though he isn’t in the books — yet.”

“'T'o be sure ; to be sure,” said the geologist. “ Have
a seat, Mr. Hero, and we’ll begin.”

And then the strange man settled himself back
against the crag and began that old, old riddle, which
never was, and never will be, understood, of the secrets
of the rocks and hills. He told it as patiently and as
carefully as if the listening ears were not a child’s ears
that hungered for the strange, old story.

“These are fossils,” he said, “ fossils. This coun-



64 HERO - CHUMS.

try —these mountains, I mean —is full of them.
The very finest specimens in the world,” he said.
«“ But as to how they came there, we will have to go
away back. People used to think they were the ani-
mals and flowers that existed before the flood, and
that Noah’s great deluge deposited them there. They
were first noticed by a great painter named Leonard
de Vinci, who saw them in the rocks dug from the
mountains of Verona to repair the city. That was
nearly four hundred years ago. He proved to the
people that no plastic, or moulding, force in nature
could have fastened stones into organic forms, and
that the deluge was inadequate to have collected the
marine fossils — these little fish are called fossils —
that form the solid strata of the earth. Strata, John,
is a bed of earth or rock, and sometimes you may
learn that it is often in layers. You know what lay-
ers mean?”

“Oh, yes. Mother makes layer cake; piles one
thin cake upon piles of others, you know, sir.”

“ Thats it, precisely,’ said the strange man.
“ Well, people began to collect them, — ‘specimens,’
they called them, —and knew no more about them
than you and I. At last a man named Palissy was
brave enough to offer a theory regarding them. Pa-
lissy thought these fossil remains were real animals,
marine, that is, from the sea. After awhile Laibnitz,
a great mathematician, offered a theory. He thought
that the earth had originally been a burning, luminous
mass, which, since its creation, has been gradually



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 65

cooling down, and as it cooled received the condensed
vapours which now form its crust. At one stage he
thought it covered with a great ocean, and from these
two elements, fire and water, Laibnitz thought he
traced two formations; one by refrigeration from
igneous fusion — that is, cooling from its state of
melted heat. The other formation was by concretion
from aqueous solution —that is, the earth was hot
and it was covered with water. The cooling made
one formation, and the massing together of all matter
by the action of the water made another. It’s a big
thing to ask a small boy to gulp down the geology of
the earth at one swallow, Master John, but there is
one thing you may understand and be sure of. The
same hand which put the fish in the sea put them
in the mountains as well; and that same great hand
set the parts of the great creation in their proper
form and place. ‘In six days, the book says, and it
says that a thousand years in his sight are as one
day, so that by our poor narrow little count we can-
not tell how long the Almighty was in creating the
earth, bringing order out of chaos, and laying. the
magnificent strata that so delights the researches of
man. Yet the world has always quarrelled about
these little ferns and fishes and other mysteries, some
claiming as the cause the flood, and others the volcanic
eruptions that shook up the old earth centuries ago, —
turned it upside down, as it were. But, for me, I like
to call it the camera-obscura of the Almighty, upon
which, or with which, he has stamped the form and



66 HERO-CHUMS.

image of the creation he is done with, and hidden
them away in the secret chambers of the earth.”

The strange man ceased speaking. There was a
moment’s silence before old Nan reached out her long,
bony hand and touched his sleeve.

“ Did you say the A’mighty hid ’em there?” she
asked, in a half whisper.

“Yes, my poor woman; hid them there until his
own good time for revealing them.”

“« He hides a power o’ things down there, under the
mountain.”

“ Yes, they are his mysteries. We cannot under-
stand them now, but some day the everlasting hills
will be ripped in sunder and made to reveal their
secrets.”

She bent towards him her face, old and seamed, and
afire with that wild glow men term insanity.

“ Sure ?”’ she asked.

“ Perfectly sure.”

She leaned still a trifle nearer, her face almost
touching his, her hand still clutching his arm.

“ Well, don’t tell Brewer I told you,” she said,
“but down there, under the mount’ns, they’ve got
my boy, them rocks have. And some day— What’s
that ?”

It was the click of a pick beyond the rocks upon
which they were sitting. Some one was pricking the
ribs of the old, forsaken Lodge. Nan listened a mo-
ment. Suddenly it dawned upon her poor mind what
they were doing, and with a wild shriek she bounded



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 67

to her feet, from rock to rock, gesticulating, shouting,
and weeping.

«“ The old Lodge!” she cried ; “ the old Lodge! God
is goin’ to rip it op’n. Come, everybody, and git your
dead. The A’mighty is about to give up the old
mine’s secrets at last — at last — at last!”

And hearing her, how few dreamed that old Nan,
crazy Nan, spoke truly, and that at last the secret
horrors of the great chambers of the earth were to be
revealed.



CHAPTER IV.
A MILE-POST DINNER.

HE mists were enveloping mount and river when
Susan drew the window-shutters fast for the
night, making the little sitting-room of the superinten-
dent’s home secure against the curious gaze of passers-
by. No sooner had the latch clicked into place than
a little white-robed figure emerged from the dressing-
room adjoining.

“ Now, father, bring out the hero books,” said John.
“ We will have to hurry, before the fire makes me nod
like Sir Isaac Newton. My chum says he most knows
it is the fire. Open your arms, mother. Oh, I do
hope I shall never be too big for your arms, mother
dear. Now, then, father, I’m all ready.”

Mr. Weston was slowly turning the leaves of a well-
thumbed mythology. “ Well, John, whom will you
have to-night,’ he asked, “Hercules, Apollo, or
Achilles ?”

A serious expression came into the honest eyes as
the boy replied :

“Neither, sir. I don’t care for them any more.
Mr. Baldwyn says they are not real heroes at all, but

just lagination ones. That Hercules never killed
68



A MILE-POST DINNER. 69

any lion, and never strangled any snake, either, when
he was a baby in his cradle. And Apollo never drove
the sun across the sky in his life. And that Achilles’s
mother never dipped him in any river by the heel, and
that if he had any heels, they were just like every-
body else’s. And that the whole book, heroes and all,
is just a lagination book, that people used to not know
any better than to believe. ‘A pretty story, he called
it, that the Greeks and —”

«“ Romans ?”

“ Yes, father, the Romans, didn’t know any better
than to believe, about the lagination heroes. But I
want sure-enough heroes; like the one who was
burned alive, and when the fire was lighted was told
he might take back and live; and instead of doing it,
he put out his right hand and let it burn off, because
that hand had been a traitor to ’rinciple. He was a
hero. I like a man who isn’t afraid to stand by his
’rinciples ; don’t you, father ?”

“Decidedly, John. Now then, be quiet, and you
shall have the story of Cranmer, the —” He was
about to say “ the fanatic ;’’ but a glance at the pure,
proud face of the little hero-worshipper caused him to
check the thoughtless word, and substitute “ martyr”
in its stead. Not for the wealth of the world would
he cast one stone at his boy’s ideal. The story was
condensed and simplified to meet the childish com-
prehension. When the book was at last closed, he
glanced at the little perfect face nestled against
the mother’s shoulder. He thought for a moment



70 HERO-CHUMS..

the boy was asleep, for the lids were drooped over the
blue eyes. But in a moment he detected a slight
compression of the lips, a delicate contraction of the
brow, and when the earnest blue eyes were lifted to
his, they wore a perplexed expression.

“Father,” he said, “was there ever a hero—I
mean was there ever more than one? I know there
is one, although he isn’t in the books yet. Is there
one in the books, father, who ever suffered wrong, a
ereat deal of it, for something he never did do at all,
and just went on suffering without saying a word to
anybody, excepting, maybe, one very old friend ?”

“ Well,” said Mr. Weston, “I don’t recall such a
one at the moment; but if you will give me the name
of the hero whose deeds are still unwritten, it may
serve as a leader, or guide, to those in the books.”

The boy answered with surprised alacrity :

“Mr. Brewer, sir, of course.”

“ Oh, yes, certainly. I forgot Mr. Brewer. Mother,
can’t you help us find a case that fits Mr. Brewer’s ?”

The mother pressed the smile from her lips in the
mass of golden curls upon her shoulder.

“T don’t recall one just now,” she replied, “ unless
Napoleon will answer.”

Mr. Weston shook his head.

“ Below the ideal, I fancy; too much fight.”

“ Try Dante.”

The curls were lifted a moment.

“ What did Dante do? He’s got a nice name,
anyhow.”



A MILE-POST DINNER. 71

“Dante was a great poet, my son, who had a great
many trials, but who left a wonderful name behind
him. He was imprisoned and exiled from his native
city because of certain matters pertaining to the goyv-
ernment of the city.”

The curls slowly shook their owner’s lack of satis-
faction.

“T don’t quite admire him. I hope my saying so
isn’t impolite.”

The master of the house replied, with hearty good
humour :

“ Not at all, my son. He has been dead too long
for our opinions to affect his biographers. . Try again,
mother.”

“ How would Milton or Bunyan do? Both were
imprisoned poets, you know.”

“JT know all about them. I don’t quite want writ-
ing heroes. I like doing ones better. One that just
did something great, and when people abused him
just sat still and took it. I s’pose Andrew Jackson
wouldn’t have done that, would he, father ?”

The superintendent bit his under lip at the sugges-
tion of tame endurance forming a characteristic of
Old Hickory.

“T’m afraid not, John,” he answered, soberly.

“ Would Henry Clay.?”

“ Hardly!” The emphatic exclamation was quite
unexpected. John had cherished very fond hopes of
denominating his friend “a hero after Clay,” that
matchless master of heroism in the mind of every



es HERO -CHUMS.

American youth. The mother saw the disappoint-
ment in the child’s face and hastened to his relief.

“Never mind, dear,” she said, “we can’t all be
Henry Clays; but we can all adopt as our motto the
immortal sentiment he left to the world: «I would
rather be right than be President.’ Now we will hunt
again for a hero for your old chum. Let’s see. There
was Wellington, whose watchword was ‘Duty.’ And
there was Disraeli, a great man, too, who declared
that ‘the youth who does not look up will look
down.’ And then there was, to go back, Sir Walter
Raleigh, the great man, I suppose, who put his cloak
down for the queen to step upon. And then there
was Michael Angelo, the artist and sculptor, who suf-
fered imprisonment and poverty just as Milton, the
poet, and Bunyan, the preacher, did; and —”

“ Mother! mother!” cried the master of the house.
“Your catalogue of eminent jailbirds quite confounds
our hero hunter. Be merciful; try one more and stop.”

“ Well, then, how is Galileo?”

“What did he do?” The little face was losing
something of the perplexed expression the father had
noticed.

“ Galileo was an Italian astronomer and _philoso-
pher. He was the inventor of the thermometer and
the pendulum, and almost the inventor of the tele-
scope. He was imprisoned for declaring the earth
moved, and not the sun, as people had always be-
lieved. And long after he was dead it was found
that he had been right all the time.”



A MILE-POST DINNER. 73

The golden head left the mother’s shoulder with a
bound.

“That's it!” cried John. “I like him. Hoorah
for Mr. Galileo and his thermomoscope! He’s my
hero. Read about Galileo, father.”

Patiently and carefully, emphasising the best, gin-
gerly touching upon the faults, the superintendent
rehearsed the story of the great astronomer. When
it was ended, the boy said, with earnest emphasis :

“T like him. He’s very like my chum, I think.
Father, don’t you think my Mr. Brewer ought to
have a hero-ring ?”

The superintendent hesitated, somewhat surprised.
John saw it, and understood the hesitation perfectly.

“Indeed, sir, he is a hero. You don’t know him
like I do, father; and really, he ought to have a ring.
And if mother doesn’t mind Id like to give him
mine. He would like it so much, coming from his
old friend. We have had some real confidential
talks, and he says he would like a hero-ring more
better than anything in this world. Could I give
it to him, mother dear? It is my very own, you
know; it was my own tooth that was pulled, and my
own ache, and all.”

Mrs. Weston looked grave. She understood just
how much the little fellow prized that tiny golden
circlet, the first testimonial he had ever received of
that characteristic which his child-heart held above
all others— heroism. She understood the motive
which prompted the wish to bestow the treasure



74 HERO-CHUMS.

upon the old man, from whose sorrows the unformed
judgment had never a garment of heroism. If an
illusion, it leaned to the side of virtue, and she was
loath to dispel it. Still, she would not have the
young intelligence dwarfed or wronged by a false
ideal. She glanced at her husband, who said, by a
motion of the hand:

“ You must decide the case for yourself.”

And decide it she did. The boy was to act upon
his own judgment. The first time Mr. Brewer should
do anything really heroic, according to his ideas,
John was at liberty to bestow upon him the beloved
and honoured badge of a hero.

“Thank you, mother dear,” he said, earnestly. “I
will be very careful about it, indeed I will. Now,
if you please, ’m ready for ‘Safe in the Arms.’
Good night, father; pleasure dreams and sweet
repose. Good night, mother; pleasure dreams and
sweet repose. Good night, Susan, nodding in the
corner; pleasure dreams and sweet repose. And
good night,’ the voice was raised to a kind of jubi-
lant, good-comradeship kind of pitch, “ good night,
Mr. Galileo, with your thermomoscope; pleasure
dreams and sweet repose. Sing a little louder,
mother dear; the fire is putting more winkers on
my eyes, so I can’t keep them open.”

«Safe in the arms of Je-e-sus.”

The little voice did try to follow the divine lullaby,
but the weary head dropped upon the mother’s bosom,



A MILE-POST DINNER. 75

and the eyelids, weighted by the mysterious “ wink-
ers,’ slowly closed, while the mother’s voice followed
the old strain still, a prayer and a lullaby for the
tender nestling.

« Safe on his gentle breast,

There by his love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.”

When at length the golden head rested upon its
pillow “in pleasure dreams,” Mrs. Weston turned to
her husband.

“ Bernard,” she said, “ I am all at sea about John’s
birthday dinner. He insists that his old chum is the
one he desires to be present. When I argued with
him, he silenced me by saying: ‘Mother dear, on a
boy’s mile-post day, as he calls them, ‘ ought he not
to invite his very best friends to the dinner? And
isn’t Mr. Brewer my very dearest friend?’ I told him -
that if Mr. Brewer was invited, he would have to give
up all other guests. ‘Oh, thank you,’ said he, ‘T am
sure my old friend will be quite enough, and we will
have a real confidential celebration of my mile-post
day. And there it ended. I had not the heart to
say no.”

“ Then let it be yes,” said the master of the house.
“‘ Mother,” and his face wore a thoughtful look, “it is
a very odd and pathetic friendship that exists between
these two. I went last evening at your bidding to
bring John home from Brewer’s. As I lifted my
hand to knock, I heard something which made me



76 HERO-CHUMS.

stop, and—look the other way, mother — play the
eavesdropper. The ‘old friends’ were truly quite con-
fidential in their talk. Brewer was telling the story
of his life to that child. When he finished, I heard
John say,‘ That was a very pretty story, a beautiful
story, and very sorrowful. Won’t you take my hand
a moment? It means, — you know, I told you what
it means. I understand, and am very sorry for you.’
I felt like a thief when the man opened the door; and
I crept away like one, too, I am afraid. I tell you,
wife, there is something good in the man, else the
child’s heart would not go out to him with such trust-
ful affection. If his punishment was unjust, what
tongue can express what he must have suffered!
Yes, invite him to the birthday dinner. Somehow,
I feel disposed to follow my boy’s leading. Perhaps
it may be as he says, ‘ God and the old Tennessee will
make it all plain in their own good time.’ Have him
at the birthday dinner, little mother.”

And so the sixth mile-post day found Mr. Brewer
the only honoured guest of the superintendent’s son.
John sat at the window, looking like a rare bit of deli-
cate wax-work, that had been daintily clothed in the
softest of velvet,—a rich crimson in colour, that
brought out the bright gold of the pretty head, and
the faint colouring of the healthy complexion.

“T hope he won’t be late,” the boy had said at least
a dozen times, as he sat watching the long street lead-
ing to the mines, beyond which stood a few of the
miners’ shacks. At eleven o’clock he became restless



_ A MILE-POST DINNER. TT

and went down upon “ the top step,” where he always
stood, just within the iron gate, to wait for his old
friend. But the wind blew a trifle cold, so that he
gave up his watch at the gate, and returned to the
window.

“TI wonder what makes him late,” he said, with a
hint of impatience. The next moment a glad shout
rang through the room. “There he is! Open the
door, Susan. Mother, can’t Susan hurry to open the
door for my friend? It will seem more homeful, ’m
quite sure, mother dear. Come on, dear old chum.
How slow he is. And if he isn’t—yes, ’m quite
confident he is pushing my new wheelbarrow! P’r’aps
Td better run out and meet him. Susan, where is
my cap? It always will get away when I want it.
Hello! Iam coming. MHello there, and good morn-
ing, sir. This is my birthday, my sixth mile-post,
sir. Vm very glad to see you, and the wheel-
barrow, too. I hope you are glad to see me. Are
you glad to see me?”

He was hurrying down the steps, past the gate and
down the village street, a dash of gold and crimson in
the sunlight, shouting as he went, right into the arms
of his dear old friend.

It was indeed a “nice day,” as John said. At the
boy’s request, a table was set for two in the library,
and the friends had their dinner alone. At his re-
quest, also, the master of the house came in to say
grace for them, accompanied by his wife and the
president of the Slipup Iron Company, Mr. Baldwyn,



78 HERO-CHUMS.

who had ruthlessly pulled old Hercules, Achilles, and
Apollo down from the hero’s pedestal by declaring
them but creatures born in the imagination of the
old Greeks and Romans. The little master rose
when his parents entered with their own guest, and
extended his hand to Mr. Baldwyn.

“And how is Master Johnny on the mile-post
day?” asked the president, with lively interest.

“ Just John, if you please, sir, plain John; and he
is very well, I thank you, sir. And this is my old
friend, Mr. Brewer, sir. Some call him ‘ Old Despair.’
And he has had a sight of trouble, sir, and he’s been
to prison for nothing, sir, and he’s a hero after Gal-
ileo, sir.”

«“ Whew! Wait, John, let me catch up!” exclaimed
the president. “You quite startled me with your
learning and news. I am all out of breath, 1 assure
you.”

He soon recovered himself, however, wished the old
man a “good day,” and stood with proudly elevated
head while the superintendent besought a blessing on
the day and its provisions. A smile of keenest enjoy-
ment played about his usually stern lips— lips that
were more ‘wont to scoff, indeed, than to smile —
while the ceremonies continued.

“ Sing, mother dear,’ cried John the moment his
head was lifted from the plate, where the golden curls
had been reverently bowed during the blessing. “ Sing
us one little verse before you go.”

“Vm afraid I don’t quite know any birthday songs,



A MILE-POST DINNER. 79

John,” smiled the mother, with a half timid glance at
the scoffer standing at the other side of the table.

“¢Safe in the Arms’ will do,’ declared John.
“ And please let it be the verse about ‘kroding care,
Id like my chum to hear that verse especial. Listen,
Mr. Brewer; it is a very nice verse.”

Mrs. Weston glanced at her husband inquirinely ;
he nodded, and with no further thought of the rich
unbeliever, but with heart full of pity for her humbler
guest, she sang the “nice verse” of the sweet old
hymn that has comforted its millions of care-bur-
dened souls.

«“ Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world’s temptation,
Sin cannot harm us there.
Safe from the blight of sorrow,
Safe from my doubt and fears,
Only a few more trials,
Only a few more tears.”

There were, indeed, tears in the mother’s eyes, when
she reluctantly left the two “dear old friends ”’ alone
with their dinner. Tears of sympathy for the un-
happy, ill-judged old man who had won the confidence
and affection of her boy. And through the child’s
faith, her own was beginning to take root. Already
she was beginning to think of the old man as one
deeply and sorely wronged. She smiled through her
tears when she first realised it. :

“John’s belief in the man’s heroism is about to



80 HERO-CHUMS.

make us all fall down and worship,” she said, with a
laugh, when she joined her husband and his guest a
moment later.

“The man hasn’t a bad face,” said Mr. Baldwyn,
“and they say he behaved very well in prison; made
some ‘ good time, if I am not mistaken.”

“Indeed,” spoke up the ex-convict’s new defender,
“he was pardoned by the governor of the State, for
brave and noble conduct on the occasion of a great
cave-in among the mines of the branch prison where
he was confined.”

Mr. Baldwyn laughed. “ Well, well,’ said he,
“ perhaps I have not given the hero full credit. Un-
fortunately, we have no cave-ins convenient, with
which to test his courage, since the old Lodge mine
has settled. By the way, Weston, the boys went back
to work in the old shaft last week, I am told. Is it
perfectly safe, do you think ?”

The host’s brow contracted.

“The inspector pronounced it safe,’ said he.
«“ Brewer, who knows a good deal about mines, in-
sisted that it was a death-trap, and was opposed to
meddling with the ‘old cave, as he calls it. We will
go down when the whistle calls the men back from
their dinner, and see what progress they are making.
I don’t like the place. Indeed, I have always enter-
tained a kind of nervous, half-superstitious fear of the
old Lodge mine, and I am partly disposed to credit
the tales told by the first miners; that there is more
treasure buried in the Lodge than the red iron ore.”



A MILE-POST DINNER. 81

“ Maybe, maybe,” laughed the president. “I will
possibly take stock in your treasure when the mine is
reopened, Weston.”

“Only a cave-in will ever open her vaults again,”

ssaid Mr. Weston, soberly.

“And in that event I forespeak the honour of
presenting Master John’s hero-ring to our friend
Brewer,’ chuckled Mr. Baldwyn.

The speech was a light one, carelessly made, yet in
less than an hour it seemed almost a prophecy. Na-
ture, indeed, is incomprehensible in her moods, defy-
ing the wisdom of man, and often awaking in timid
breasts the old-time, dead-and-buried superstitions,
whose sepulchre has been dug by science and sealed
by knowledge long ago.

The words had scarcely left the president’s lips,
when there was heard a low sound, half groan, half
hiss, followed instantly by a roar; and then a crash
which brought the listeners to their feet, with excla-
mations of frightened wonder. The house trembled
and rocked like a toy boat on the broad breast of the
ocean ; the windows fell with a crash ; the vases upon
the mantel tottered and toppled to the hearth in a
hundred pieces. And while each stricken listener
stared at the white faces of the others in that instant
of terror, the door burst open, and Brewer, pale as
death, sprang into the room.

“The mine, sir!” he shouted: “The old Lodge!
For God’s sake, come quick!”



CHAPTER V.

THE OLD LODGE.

N a short time the entire village had collected, full
of wonder not unmixed with fear, about the old
mine where, years before, the jealous earth had
closed its great mouth against its despoilers, locking
its secrets, together with its treasures, in its strong -
depths, from whence all efforts of men and art had
been powerless to wrench them.

And now she had performed a second wonder ; the
old mound had opened; the great mouth stood agape,
the old sepulchre and treasure-house stood wide again,
as if in mockery of the petty picks that had begun
the week before to pick her iron-girt sides.

Old and young, male and female, flocked to the
scene. They were awestruck, dumb, at first, with a
great superstition. Then they wrung their hands,
the women among them, and begged the men to come
away and leave the old pit alone.

“Its the A’mighty,” they said. “ His curse is on
the Lodge. Come away; let be, lest the A’mighty
curse you, too, along with the earth he created.”

It was impossible to convince them that the open-
8



THE OLD LODGE. 83

‘ing of a new tunnel had caused the disturbance with
the old one, loosening its foundation, causing the
crash, and wrenching apart those old rock barriers
that had defied them for so long. The word which
passed from lip to lip was that the old Lodge was
open, and the dead miners were all there. Then fear
seemed to give place to wonder entirely.

Old women came hurrying down to claim their
dead, as if they had only said good-bye the day before,
and forgetting the years could have left them only
fleshless bones for the warm life that had gone down
into the unsuspected sepulchre. The. earth and the
Almighty had relented and given them back their
lost ones at last.

Then came another message, a new fear awakened.
Some one must go down into the tunnel to ascertain
if any lives had been lost there. The crash had
barred the passage, and in the excitement and confu-
sion it was impossible to tell if any were missing.
Fortunately, for misfortune always has a better side,
the accident had taken place at noon, when the men
were at their dinners. So nobody had thought of a
new horror, until Jasper Crowe came panting into the
crowd, declaring that his sons had returned to work
half an hour before, together with half a dozen others.

Then it was decided that some one must go down
—make a way, if none could be found, to the im-
prisoned miners.

There was no time for parleying. What was done
must be done at once. There were still to be heard



84 HERO -CHUMS.

mutterings and hissings of gas, together with an
occasional rumble of the loosened stones and sliding
earth. Nobody cared to risk his life in the old, super-
stition-haunted mine, it seemed ; and the new captives
would have to take their chances, as had those other
victims ten years before.

“A volunteer, a volunteer,’ was called, when a
basket had been made ready, for the mine had not
opened at the side where the tunnel had been dug,
but had parted in a great seam higher up, where the
old dump-carts had been wont to bring the slag from
the furnace and dump it into the great gorge further
back towards the Tennessee.

A volunteer, a life, it might be, for a few stark
corpses. There is no one so afraid of the earth as
the miner. Familiarity does not take away any of
his terror; it only acquaints him the more thoroughly
with her treachery, her mystery of damp and gas and
slate. There was one, however, for whom the old
earth had no terrors; one whose all, save perhaps the
puny thing called life, was buried in her relentless
brown bosom.

It was Old Despair — Mr. Brewer, the ex-convict.
He pressed through the throng to Mr. Weston and
Mr. Baldwyn to offer his services to go down into the
mine. The people, with that excitement common to
miners, were praying and shouting. When they
understood that he was about to make the descent
into the pit, they ceased to exclaim, but gathered in
groups and whispered his name, Old Despair, as if



THE OLD LODGE. 85

the sublimity of the undertaking had frozen their
voices.

The stillest one among them was old Nan. She
crawled up the steepest point of rock overlooking the
hole into which they were about to lower the brave
old miner. Her gray hair hung about her face, that
was old and wrinkled. She laughed now and then, a
low, chuckling kind of laugh, unheard by any of the
crowd.

Suddenly, when the miner passed near the rock
upon which she stretched herself, she leaned far out
over the dangerous edge, and beckoned him with her
long, thin hand. Then her crazy, cracked voice rang
out clearly and sharply:

«< Brewer,” she called, “Brewer! Jf you find my
Tommy down there, holler it back to me, won’t you,
Brewer ?”

The words seemed to set the people wild, and to
remind others whose dear ones might be there with
old Nan’s Tom. An old man, bent and feeble, laid
his hand upon the miner’s sleeve, plucking it eagerly,
and said, in a low, trembling voice:

« An’ if my Neddy’s there, lemme know, neigh-
bour.”

And then a woman’s voice rang out above all other
sounds.

“T’ve got a boy down there, Brewer. He’s got on
a gray suit o’ clothes; you'll know him by that. He
went away down there ten year ago come nex’ spring.
Look out for him, Brewer, do.”



86 HERO-CHUMS.

“Let the dead be, and look out for the livin’,”
shouted Crowe, the man who had reported his sons
caught in the crash. “Let the dead be, and look to
the livin’, Brewer.”

«“ The livin’ is all up here, neighbour,” replied the
woman. “If your boys is down there, they’re dead as
ourn now. An’ our’n is alive as your’n, though
they’ve been gone ten year. Look out for our’n,
Brewer; we-uns have had the longest mourn.” She
broke into a low wail, as if the opening of the old
mine had opened the old heart wound, along with the
earth’s. For grief only slumbers; it never dies.

While the miners’ wives were lamenting, the min-
ers themselves were busy preparing for the descent.

AH were busy, Mr. Weston with the rest, so that
none noticed the little figure upon the hillside, off
from the crowd and danger from the mine. It was
John, the superintendent’s son. There was no more
interested eye in the throng, as he stood there, lean-
ing upon his crutch, beside the wheel-chair, in which
he had been “ rolled ” to a point of observation.

He stood with one hand fast clasped in the hand of
the faithful Susan. It was upon this condition that
he had been permitted to go near the mine at all.
He could see the basket, and the men arranging the
ropes, while Mr. Brewer stood waiting, ready to de-
scend; but he could not understand in the least what
his old friend was about to do. Susan explained as
best she could, until Reuben, the superintendent’s hired
boy, climbed the hill, and told them that it wasn’t



THE OLD LODGE. 87

judgment day, as he had at first supposed, but a
cave-in, and that Old Despair was the only man in
Slipup brave enough to go down among the sulphur,
and gas, and skeletons. John’s face fairly shone with
enthusiasm.

“ How I should like to shake hands with the brave
old fellow,’ he cried, “before he goes down to the
sulphur, and gas, and skeckeltons! Could he hear
me, Reuben, if I called, do you think ?’’

“Tm afraid not, little master,” said Reuben, “ but
maybe he could hear me. Shall I holler for you, sir ?”

“If you please would, Reuben, and quick. He is
getting in. What is father doing? Oh, I’m so glad
father did, indeed he did, shake hands with him. And
did he lift his hat, Reuben? I’m most plumb sure
he did. And what is Mr. Baldwyn twisting his nose
in his handkerchief that way for? Please shout, Reu-
ben. Louder! Oh, do make it come louder, Reuben!
Can’t you bring the holler right clear up from your
toes? Susan says she does. Ah!”

A prolonged shout from the bluff caused the people
to look up, where the little figure, still wearing its
holiday suit of gay velvet, stood watching with intense
interest the hurried proceedings below.

“Why, it is the little master,’ said one of the
women, “come to see his old friend, Despair, go to
his death.”

The old man heard the words, and smiled. It
wasn’t thinking of death, nor yet of heroism, made
his old face shine. He could not catch one word that



88 HERO-CHUMS.

was said up there on the hill; but he saw a little
hand lifted, and then the velvet cap was snatched
from the golden curls, and swung triumphantly above
them.

Triumphantly the old fellow knew instinctively
that his friend up there did not look upon the thing
he was about to do as “ going to his death.’ Or, if it
should prove so, it was a pilgrimage well worth the
making. Others were lamenting, calling him a fool ;
but, to the child, he felt himself a hero.

“Mr. Brewer, oh, Mr. Brewer! Wait just a min-
ute before you go down to the skeckeltons. Wait!
Wa-it, my dear old friend.”

The shout was entirely lost on the air; but the
sight of a boy running down to them was suffi-
cient to hold the crowd until Reuben, breathless
and excited, yet evidently fully alive to the enjoy-
ment of the duty imposed upon him, stood in their
midst.

First, he went over where Mr. Weston stood, and
whispered something in his ear. Instantly the tears
sprang to the eyes of the sensitive master.

“ Do whatever he bade you,” he said to the hired
boy, “and do it precisely as he bade you.” And
Reuben, lifting his hat, as his master had done,
stepped up to the old man about to descend into
the death-trap sprung for the second time, as they
believed, in the old Lodge mine. “If you please,
sir,’ said the boy, “the young master up there sent
you this, and he hopes you will be safe in the arms.”





“CIF YOU PLEASE, SIR, THE YOUNG MASTER SENT YOU THIS.’”









THE OLD LODGE. 91

And the hired boy turned away his face to hide his
own tears as he extended his hand towards the old
man. In the palm of it lay a tiny golden circlet, the
beloved hero-ring. The old man understood the mes-
sage it bore. He slipped it into his bosom, near to
his bruised and broken old heart. The next moment
the basket began to descend, and the face of Old
Despair, still wearing that rapt, ecstatic smile, passed
out of sight into the old, forsaken. sepulchre of the
Lodge.

There followed a silence, while those upon the out-
side waited for a signal agreed upon. One pull upon
the rope was to announce danger, and meant that
they were to haul him up at once. Two meant
that all was well, and that others wishing to make
the descent would be safe in doing so.

It seemed a long time in which they waited; but
the suspense was relieved somewhat by news from the
men whom Jasper Crowe had supposed buried in
the new disaster. They had not gone immediately
to the mine, as was thought, but merely had taken
a run down the river on an empty coal-barge to
inspect an old shaft, half a mile below, that was
about to be reopened. They were, at that time,
returning in time, as they supposed, for the whistle
that always called the men to work.

The people gave a shout for the living, and imme-
diately turned, with a sigh, to await the news from
the dead. They had not much longer to wait, till
there came a pull upon the rope, dangling in the



92 HERO-CHUMS.

great hole at their feet. One! two! and a great
shout went up.

But the odour of gas, and a continuous, dust-like
cloud that issued from the opening, was sufficient to
deter many who might otherwise have wished to make
the descent. As it was, only four went down. These,
among whom were the inspector and the engineer
who had been superintending the opening of the new
tunnel, provided with lamps, were lowered to join
Brewer in the underground prison, with its darkness
and dangerous gases, perhaps the fatal death-trap
itself, ready to spring upon them from some unsus-
pected covert, and the misplaced and quivering boul-
ders ready to drop with the slightest motion. 2

They followed a circuitous route upon leaving the
basket, in and out among the treacherous rocks and
blockaded passages, led by the miner, who knew the
windings of the old tunnels in their first days. Sud-
denly they halted before a small opening, made,
evidently, by the recent crash that had effectually
blockaded all further passage save through that one
small, newly made aperture. The men _ hesitated.
Bits of earth dropped about their shoulders, while
overhead, the rocks seemed to quiver still with the
violence of the shock that had ripped them from their
fastenings.

They could see into the chamber beyond. Some of
the men recognised it as the old “vestibule room,”
so called because of its resemblance to a tiny cham-
ber, of perfect form, with a natural door-like entrance



THE OLD LODGE. 93

into the great tunnel beyond. It was here the miners
of the old Lodge used to congregate at noon, and eat
their dinners by the light of their tiny lamps. And
it was here a daring mountain stripling had hid-
den once, in the old days, when the Lodge had been
worked by the convicts, under the State lease; and
he had crouched with his ear to the wall, and over-
heard a plot worked among the convicts, to rush upon
the guard and make a break for freedom. The walls
were very thin, so thin, indeed, that the slightest
whisper could be heard on either side the frail par-
tition. So thin, the convicts heard the breathing of |
the boy in the vestibule, and killed him for an eaves-
dropper and a spy. Then they made their break for
liberty, and more than a dozen obtained it. And
then the lessees refused prison labour to the com-
pany, and withdrew the convicts to Inman.

The men — some of them “ knew the old vestibule
by heart,” as they said — stood swinging their lan-
terns above their heads, none of them too anxious
to enter the haunted old hole, into which the light
. flashed with startling brilliance.

Suddenly there was a crash, and the men fell back,
afraid, for a moment, to so much as look at the fresh
rent made in the partition.

“ For God’s sake, don’t tempt the old earth any
further. Let’s go back,” cried one. And then:

“ Look there!” shouted another. “ Let’s get out of
here before the door claps shut again.”

“ No, boys,” said Brewer, who until then had





94. HERO-CHUMS.

scarcely spoken, “we won’t turn back till the old
Lodge sets straight some o’ the wrong she’s done.
Go on. Not a man turns back. Go on, I say!
unless you be a lot of cowards. Our dead air
here, only our dead, and the dead can’t hurt you
none. Afeard? Be you afeard o’ that?”

And he swung his lantern till it flashed upon some-
thing half lying, half crouching, close-pressed against —
the shattering partition which separated the great
tunnel from the vestibule, a ghastly, grinning, hor-
rible something, before which the strongest of them
drew back in terror.



CHAPTER VI.
SECRETS.

HEN the leader swung his lantern above the

ghastly “ find,’ the men had drawn away
from it in superstitious terror. It was only a moment,
however, before they understood that it was a skele-
ton, bare and fleshless, and without other covering
than a few clinging, rotted rags that had once been
clothes. It lay within the vestibule chamber, the
head pressed fast against the sounding partition, in
the position in which death had found the eaves-
dropper, — listening! Decay had been powerless to
destroy the perfect impression. With clothes and
flesh upon the bleaching bones, they would have
been a man crouched to hear voices on the other
side of the partition.

“Come away!” shouted one of the men. “It is
the spirit of the boy the convicts killed.” And there
was a break towards the basket.

But the inspector had become as deeply interested
as was Brewer. He was not a mountaineer, and did
not possess their superstitions. He ordered the men
to come back, and stood watching while Brewer

stooped to examine more closely the hideous bones.
95

—



96 HERO-CHUMS.

When he arose, he touched the thing contemptu-
ously with his foot.

“ Boys,” he said, “this ain’t no spirit. Hit’s the
body o’ Luke Ford, as disappeared the day the old
Lodge went in, and for which I sarved a term in
the State prison. Look at him; some o’ you-uns’ll
remember him. He had two front teeth missin’, —
one up, and one below, — and the thumb of his right
hand was gone. Look at that, and see if it ben’t
Luke.”

The men crowded about ‘the skeleton, forgetting
everything but the strange discovery. The old man
set his lantern before the grinning face. There were
the cavities, truly, left by the missing teeth, and
from the right hand, sure enough, the thumb was
gone.

“Ts Luke,” declared one of the miners; “I
_ worked with him long enough to know him dead
or alive. Lord, Lord! Whoever would ’a’ thought 0’
Luke Ford bein’ buried down here? Funny nobody
ever thunk o’ that, now, wa’n’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t a bit funny,” said Brewer. “ Least-
wise, it was not much fun for me.”

“ Well, the old Lodge have gin its testimony at
last, neighbour, and it have cl’ared you. T’m proper
glad for you.”

«“ And I, Brewer,” said the inspector. “ And since
this chamber has given up its secret, let us pass on to
the next one. Who knows what that one may have
to offer?”



SECRETS. 97

They moved on, slowly and carefully, through the
crumbling ruins. Suddenly the inspector halted.

“Hold your lantern a bit higher,” he said, scan-
ning the wall before them. ‘Higher yet; these little
lamps are no good in a hole like this. Wait, — that’s
it, —hello! What are the figures? Twenty-one.
What day was it the Lodge went in?”

“October twenty-one,” said Brewer; “or twenty,
if you’d rather call it so, for it happened afore
day.”

“Not before the inspector passed through. See,
there are his marks. He passed at three o’clock in
the morning, and that’s when he scratched his mark.
At six, the men would have read this endorsement in
every gallery, doubtless, in which they worked. Then
the crash was from fire-damp. No sane inspector
would have been fooled into endorsing a mine, with
any other danger near. It was that slyest and surest
of all fiends, the deadly fire-damp. The inspector dis-
appeared that night, or rather, morning; therefore,
he must have been caught in the trap, while in the
very act of recording the mine safe. Move on.
Unless I am mistaken, we will give you back at
least one of your sons.”

They passed on, following that pitiful twenty-one,
until they could pick a way into the great tunnel,
which lay just beyond the vestibule chamber. By
crawling upon their hands and knees they were able
to enter. Once in, and the light from the lantern
turned upon the scene, they uttered such an exclama-



98 HERO-CHUMS.

tion of horror that the old rocks seemed to quake
from the very force of it.

The dead were there, verily; the untombed dead.

Back against their prison wall, — for it had indeed
proved their prison, —in an upright, sitting posture,
as if the deadly damp had taken them in the midst of
pleasant conversation, were three skeletons. At their
feet, prone upon the ground, lay two others. So per-
fectly preserved, so strangely lifelike were they, that
when, for an instant, the lantern was turned aside,
they might easily have been mistaken for a friendly
group of human beings, resting for a moment in the
tunnel before returning to their work.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed one of the miners.
“And to think we-uns runs risks like this every
day,— every day. God, how few understands the
life of a miner!”

Brewer sighed as he set his lantern back against
the wall. The dampness had preserved both skele-
tons to the extent that they could even distinguish
bits of the “gray clothes” he had been told to look
out for.

He pointed to one of the heaps of fleshless bones.
Both arms had fallen away, and the head had dropped
beside the trunk.

“ That,” said he, “is my boy Dick. There’s a gold
fillin’ in the front tooth of that head that ’'d know
anywheres top-side o’ this earth. ’Twas put there
by a Chatt’noogy chap, when Dick went up there
with Cap'n Morton once, on the little water-devil,



SECRETS. 99

the Belle. The pile o’ bones next to Dick belongs
to ole Nan’s boy, unless I’m mistaken. The ‘ gray
clothes’ one is Ned Links. Now, boys, look for
proofs ; J don’t need none, but you-uns might. That
one over there I can’t make out. I reckin his folks
are all gone from hereabouts.”

There was small necessity for proofs other than
those offered by Brewer. More than mere proof, how-
ever, was brought to light with the imperishable trin-
kets, such as knives, watches, and other things, found
among the skeletons. There was found a long, flat,
tin case, an inch in thickness and four by eight inches
in length and breadth. It belonged to Dick Brewer,
and lay beside his skeleton, with poor Dick’s name
as he had scratched it with a penknife. It contained,
when they pried it open, the last report, ready to be
made to the company, by Dick. There were other
papers of importance which he, as acting superintend-
ent, had executed the very day before the mysterious
disappearance. And then, by no means least in
importance, there was a note from Dave, written that
same night, and marked “care of Tom Reeves,” old
Nan’s boy, whose skeleton lay in a heap beside that
of poor Dick Brewer.

The men crowded about Brewer, holding their
lanterns so that the light would fall strongest upon
the long-lost clue. But the old man’s hands trembled
so that he could not see the words, and he passed the
paper over to the inspector, who read it aloud. It was
short, but long enough to clear up many mysteries:



100 HERO-CHUMS.

Dear Dick:—If you get back from Bridgeport to-night
you better go to the mine. I see dust coming from the
Lodge all day. And Silas Reeves say the rats are gitting
away from it. I’m gone with the Cappen on the Belle. It’s
an orful night. If we never come back, —tell father. It’s
for the Cappen. Dave.

Clear! Verily, the old Lodge had explained the
long mystery. Dick had been up at Bridgeport, con-
tracting for workmen, the superintendent being ill;
there was the contract in the old tin case. Coming
home after night, he had been met by Tom with the
note, and together they had gone to the mine, being
joined, doubtless, by the others whose skeletons were
there. They had been followed and spied upon by
Luke Ford, the eavesdropper and self-appointed de-
tective, whom death had taken at the very moment
when he stretched himself to listen to the conversa-
tion of the men on the other side of the partition.
They had found, as they believed, the mine all right,
and sat down to talk awhile and— evidently — to
wait for the storm to blow over. And while they
waited the crash had come.

There was also found the roll of money, untouched,
not a dollar missing, which had been entrusted to
Dick, the young inspector. It was carefully wrapped
in a wallet of strong leather, marked “T. I. C.,” —
Tennessee Iron Company. What a story the old
wallet told !

Clear! There was but one thought in Mr. Brewer’s
mind. Clear! He forgot for the moment his wrongs,





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2422b9d29b02ec2bdc3644c12bc3489f
7a3561dcbf356a2d90a3186e9bbb619d50047a6b
'2011-12-29T04:30:36-05:00'
describe
'71290' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLWX' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
b38804bda1d3fbad3ef4afd3eac13c4e
3bb72c33303b85a2a16a2f07068557185c55a949
'2011-12-29T04:29:04-05:00'
describe
'19991' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLWY' 'sip-files00008.pro'
64d95b7b104e2eff88e8618174b119ae
89a490ae9078b509a55ed4583138a624046ed968
'2011-12-29T04:30:43-05:00'
describe
'20245' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLWZ' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
e14014168ff49cb4284bb657744a933e
ebc2fd16830928fb21b66cd03786650876ebbdaf
'2011-12-29T04:29:33-05:00'
describe
'2975444' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXA' 'sip-files00008.tif'
8e9e7d452ae484b7cb03dfb1309f2ffd
17240716ec1e82debda7de298294e834e230a31f
'2011-12-29T04:26:26-05:00'
describe
'1010' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXB' 'sip-files00008.txt'
e834019d84ce7bbf23fa0b53a6501a72
1c115f2effde05c8cb16c373b48ea9bc6d0903c5
'2011-12-29T04:26:33-05:00'
describe
'5059' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXC' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
eaa8770abe8d142cb98a248157715099
eaab03c1f1942095e7978a56df7f1056f6e71f80
'2011-12-29T04:31:10-05:00'
describe
'369996' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXD' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
0d1838d247a889ddec43d7ea5e865dbb
d0108159cc60add1cf969fe9db1d1d53b51c8673
'2011-12-29T04:30:24-05:00'
describe
'102198' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXE' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
025831f4b7689f5f7bd4ec6030794efd
c71602450d686117529654f90b4f3f9c1ac8774d
'2011-12-29T04:27:54-05:00'
describe
'1550' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXF' 'sip-files00010.pro'
76bcc04b2009853fb8ec08f6de4d0a9f
45bdf335c0457479e326b8aeb0516a6b7be28e73
'2011-12-29T04:27:42-05:00'
describe
'25313' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXG' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
b8dc1e407a742ef122c9b342e73a7095
4636d975dfde902fb48d867038e3e975602b8552
'2011-12-29T04:26:45-05:00'
describe
'2981552' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXH' 'sip-files00010.tif'
bb12897ef2767dca25ec1296b578e9db
d57500e210af321740ad32b599a678594c628514
'2011-12-29T04:26:38-05:00'
describe
'134' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXI' 'sip-files00010.txt'
c4381947456ffdcd96af3dd0cc6b5d43
d4e83768e584dce19131131af56f5f8c1d5c3dcb
'2011-12-29T04:27:06-05:00'
describe
'6775' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXJ' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
f40c57d82a981419fdef8f8a95d2981d
14d648a3ef8af65402cc946fd1f031d9f5cb0e82
'2011-12-29T04:28:13-05:00'
describe
'369619' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXK' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
60cef0020a0ae4e8cc65b5e89e258125
b8ef4f5de5e607f9a4d23b7b681ce3b26c7ba686
'2011-12-29T04:26:37-05:00'
describe
'64333' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXL' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
c2be2e97fc9bc4f3319f4c9eb1900b66
71aca261d0a9dc44e42551e7f0c29288daa0c8d1
'2011-12-29T04:28:19-05:00'
describe
'4298' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXM' 'sip-files00011.pro'
92b5135524d16d7a5806a76d58a35a36
6a162d7b4180e0754922664cb281e3e64cab00d8
'2011-12-29T04:28:08-05:00'
describe
'15538' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXN' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
6e9ded08d20aabd5089c1375aac1882b
2cb275ae0de36965df01e82b02ca0f6289128ca0
'2011-12-29T04:30:56-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXO' 'sip-files00011.tif'
07e740166a904d013c82dc3c7b2f7d72
65e6a5364b1f40726a9dd99f85a466081306b419
'2011-12-29T04:30:05-05:00'
describe
'229' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXP' 'sip-files00011.txt'
077c40f37b478688cd3ddaed6ef9c624
f2ed83a5a8cf81f6e6a54be1038a050f8742f513
'2011-12-29T04:27:18-05:00'
describe
'3972' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXQ' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
438432b3fcad9a88e4bc8bf25625042f
66ce030f7bcac026dce36621c6d6c7777cf4d386
'2011-12-29T04:30:38-05:00'
describe
'370210' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXR' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
e4da839f64241be0c858aa0a2fbfa17d
3853a01013d3497ec05795bd155617c27d9e4440
'2011-12-29T04:26:49-05:00'
describe
'36054' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXS' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
8103be010082c433ba36b208fbc2eb98
86990f5631cfea23ee6f9f47be32544e5f29c29b
describe
'3254' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXT' 'sip-files00012.pro'
8d66cb470be476bab03d5c87d4c8ac0c
de625af3e4613f1e66aabd2b9573307a299a2e1b
'2011-12-29T04:26:24-05:00'
describe
'7516' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXU' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
afd30c92732653674f1115b73c31aea7
14e27bfb1003d127731daa9ebdd22bb569fbb41e
'2011-12-29T04:30:35-05:00'
describe
'2978972' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXV' 'sip-files00012.tif'
9f999118eeff079c539d102d8739cca8
3df2522bf13de575529aac9d0f317594168341d2
'2011-12-29T04:27:17-05:00'
describe
'273' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXW' 'sip-files00012.txt'
54f410f6c31515fa7620ade8a46a8228
9ee748a1b56c86f6e2671b148d4f55e40dc8669b
describe
'1963' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXX' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
6741bd86dd542a51067fd651349e5f5d
55b28a3c7118cd6570af0768e98fabf97a67ed3f
'2011-12-29T04:26:47-05:00'
describe
'369765' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXY' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
88687174121193f543a786cef8461a7e
548e02808e7075dd041d9d0dd41cedde5357da7a
describe
'54542' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLXZ' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
793b4219396ff33244bb0be58d200450
571cf506f23cfc18624fb59bd7f1e5c15e934542
describe
'8217' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYA' 'sip-files00013.pro'
04e86ec4283167f1013a7052fdef07f0
70edec6e0e3f2002fed16f2f1d0b64486b347cda
'2011-12-29T04:26:22-05:00'
describe
'14540' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYB' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
502ed308b7ba3fd454d427ea6e79b11c
df614fc48ee315e3cb1a5dff34e80f858e2fc087
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYC' 'sip-files00013.tif'
317a96324515856d090451cf4fd362d1
cc3ddae5e93cc524fccde6569e8b7d016909b23c
describe
'432' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYD' 'sip-files00013.txt'
815d7b6169b42e51922415f527e41704
fce8ca9ebaa7467eb1e6c28f071a3010fd3a99a5
'2011-12-29T04:30:57-05:00'
describe
'3630' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYE' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
f57a0671524d7bb6b2779c67aed271cd
2ad00772f1556dbcd998b2cb622202b5020c385f
describe
'357085' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYF' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
7d7dd28b09f79c3468670c4d05d38146
142cb593103e29031bc88091d4806dc152244876
'2011-12-29T04:27:33-05:00'
describe
'50158' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYG' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
08a9800809b5df3bdcf76550b4a45764
e27491910ba3036c35c920132e7c0feb9b2704ca
describe
'9345' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYH' 'sip-files00015.pro'
de61494450bbd1e75b1f0907d1fa5ece
230a4c1c9107e663ce69aa9290660d7925e90e4d
'2011-12-29T04:28:30-05:00'
describe
'13226' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYI' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
7ac4857c763da8ed626ce35730e2b399
b90f4782b822d7e3da7e812729f868fc217d882d
describe
'2875724' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYJ' 'sip-files00015.tif'
3fbf83948c2877ca0ed2b4881cc71061
ab381f998d87cd33f07eef761a6cfce4b8215e5f
'2011-12-29T04:31:01-05:00'
describe
'498' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYK' 'sip-files00015.txt'
c0e7a0cde7c782e520a13fcad5ae8289
c4dbe3487f37eeac5561a7792aa8a43c62856b81
'2011-12-29T04:27:43-05:00'
describe
'3558' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYL' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
a37cc4a4ff614c28190700d8d5a24d99
ee4a7860e2835a9fdb28b75c8e9a45a4329e68b6
describe
'369910' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYM' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
0cf41163482373b92bab2513cc28ed84
6102c8409c6ea27810bb3b2f5aae19d74391f219
'2011-12-29T04:30:39-05:00'
describe
'97669' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYN' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
6e8f0617cc9a9c8ba7ad10df379dc9bf
d282f531a2f47893b37c0f65770c2600e6e84c4d
'2011-12-29T04:30:42-05:00'
describe
'24482' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYO' 'sip-files00017.pro'
227d48ca3370bb0149a07a49ddfb9f6d
3c21c6f274a2a421b312d90d3064c843e9b4efc3
'2011-12-29T04:30:01-05:00'
describe
'29299' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYP' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
b40101fefe5bb537a746f6594ac77785
af9a0169078689a714d2a1367e7d3f1b2e197613
'2011-12-29T04:30:27-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYQ' 'sip-files00017.tif'
c1a3b670d8c2b155d15c51a2738daca2
b80bf9a54b3bac7af9acf26d487de72abb7d3a9a
'2011-12-29T04:27:35-05:00'
describe
'1038' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYR' 'sip-files00017.txt'
4d2755e949f01dfbac2d6e14efd35f0d
e468301bc50978f973b48031cabbebfaaafbb96c
'2011-12-29T04:30:21-05:00'
describe
'7127' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYS' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
719d6238c0f913cfb4a0eab762cad76a
57cda074f1ca6b8dd4f2a05c984f2b7a6eb647db
describe
'369773' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYT' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
7cd17222a27e71b30234c7cb1e945250
5f0b715bf6e0f11342b80bf78701eb2efa15a78d
'2011-12-29T04:31:09-05:00'
describe
'126619' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYU' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
18a2c15b9387e8d56df73ad3272e1285
26e2f9151cbe0194b8ef324d96a66ddadf03aaf5
'2011-12-29T04:28:03-05:00'
describe
'39548' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYV' 'sip-files00018.pro'
633b8d7cece2b48764187f452948d32e
af83326c12dbca1b6e639dc23337d86e6092ebbd
'2011-12-29T04:30:33-05:00'
describe
'39417' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYW' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
6727b4207f604c3cd346f42f1079ac9b
aa8dbd2d0b20d2f49b8ef4f929be16339ed0f82e
'2011-12-29T04:26:42-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYX' 'sip-files00018.tif'
1a46f7d5966c24dff04cdacd6c6a3058
64ef19a9ca275537b6304f718885dec4922db27c
describe
'1559' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYY' 'sip-files00018.txt'
c3c7a0e97140be909525881c95c998db
2df334acabfa16ad3b45c102a6003a0bf84e06c8
describe
'9373' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLYZ' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
9d39d4946bef458c160d24003713694d
2b514793de05c6c1dc4e3deb4a62b539b711e862
'2011-12-29T04:29:15-05:00'
describe
'363223' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZA' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
49ae7beeb2b9dfda53c9af9b0beeeab4
aaaeb4943c32afb53b78fdec4360df77ae83d2a3
describe
'128183' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZB' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
660cc95eb0a593bd9b82ae34865dd990
1f23deef56cd429f3d030692c7bc4398faf7a965
'2011-12-29T04:28:15-05:00'
describe
'41010' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZC' 'sip-files00019.pro'
99ee6c12ef939b90a290bc550455017a
362812db50dc521a2184fb9639f4f9eb3d1a4850
'2011-12-29T04:27:40-05:00'
describe
'39032' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZD' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
bb5aaf1822e65cfc7c3f023e6883189d
21782596021de4f980bef9e9533a7663d97eeccf
'2011-12-29T04:28:31-05:00'
describe
'2928028' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZE' 'sip-files00019.tif'
baca0ce2b583119c7cb30405474d2321
7afbcd5dbb3bed458cbc18f5509e903af61a5a02
describe
'1609' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZF' 'sip-files00019.txt'
ade815fb2c79a927b0079e56f7be1b9e
b2dfd9e72625ecf07dd6e93916287fe5d605f65f
'2011-12-29T04:30:25-05:00'
describe
'9504' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZG' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
46d17249b0de277f60350501726cd692
0fa054b5c4674828e8790f9e33b5960184a8175b
'2011-12-29T04:27:20-05:00'
describe
'369976' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZH' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
51822816aaf2e1bb7f1e89ee86cf7ac3
18fd6254ca897910371398fb9ec2abc063386caf
describe
'131237' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZI' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
c406a16386e6df3b93785320bf6ea17b
cd7f74b19cdab0d1d6f689f7c76205fa147966a6
'2011-12-29T04:30:32-05:00'
describe
'40908' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZJ' 'sip-files00020.pro'
607a083ac929083156c48ed7f35ee138
bb6d615556687462052d4f0684cf582136459ae8
describe
'40762' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZK' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
617d7808cfdcdc460efb09e7c9c2aecb
a138b203e6f2692074a35e1bb4bffc6793555167
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZL' 'sip-files00020.tif'
827d792cf465e0ff90bcc111ccfc3558
04d68901b0c5bb23bdba4ce2ad0b05e76b87d321
describe
'1772' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZM' 'sip-files00020.txt'
6423043c7dc7b8c21428f78adcea5400
0f4fddf06ce2c1e89fba234f89942adba690fd61
describe
Invalid character
'9866' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZN' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
091ef895f41a896d22869c202e31a379
476630a6d89742faf5ec75575a1ab99dbf2caffb
'2011-12-29T04:27:34-05:00'
describe
'369617' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZO' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
b1145833d4b44588f7b9ea4a9edf2efc
6116538bb7bd9fa9b1b17f9508cfd69c60e66f4b
'2011-12-29T04:28:10-05:00'
describe
'129448' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZP' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
50f03031161afad8aa6cca9ea197b1d1
d9cbd847f5fd2fb84d7874d74ee4f8b482d4be27
'2011-12-29T04:30:08-05:00'
describe
'38092' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZQ' 'sip-files00021.pro'
8ae1896067a361ca56481b2d5c68115b
c45b9789171f717093eb4b639e43729847bc366a
'2011-12-29T04:26:34-05:00'
describe
'39283' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZR' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
8743fef2a1647fc309e5e32d28d151a8
a6e74d4c638caf6b85739891fd10190269309fde
'2011-12-29T04:28:22-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZS' 'sip-files00021.tif'
51b1222fccd236578cd671f086a99fa2
92f4f5a5ae9c420094d00f8474eda819d03b9e5e
describe
'1518' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZT' 'sip-files00021.txt'
19981d46733dcc75add400c491bb64cb
af6a5cfc89b28d38ea93926717bf7d8d2616bd11
'2011-12-29T04:29:52-05:00'
describe
'9331' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZU' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
10d2eb03ad6374861bc41715745bd938
c6f45abb19fcd439fcd7e2c66298a978b8b8bc78
'2011-12-29T04:28:38-05:00'
describe
'370269' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZV' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
ca35bd7f651d9656fe2502acddd2bbb9
140809cccdfc3093d2c50ebfa27d36b6df25c5d7
'2011-12-29T04:27:24-05:00'
describe
'127266' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZW' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
49c87de25bbe351d60df102238c3d9cf
f41ffb3216a976990906a6b723a562a95823211c
'2011-12-29T04:26:52-05:00'
describe
'39784' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZX' 'sip-files00022.pro'
9d054bc85e39fd1d064ba4afab1bbf23
eb537aca86b3027fa10dfa112c4955300ba5ffd8
'2011-12-29T04:26:20-05:00'
describe
'39419' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZY' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
43e4bbf5f2a37319bb84ce31d899a313
d518ad83c1c9df75de38e2e1629975f3d1aa9927
'2011-12-29T04:27:51-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABLZZ' 'sip-files00022.tif'
1d13ba3048d2a8d951ae171faf794c65
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'2011-12-29T04:30:49-05:00'
describe
'1556' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAA' 'sip-files00022.txt'
e3e9265f56fdad9d9835730d7ab9dfbd
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describe
'9405' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAB' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
7e9cc4aa72ba38c71233607999f85b8c
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'2011-12-29T04:27:07-05:00'
describe
'354253' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAC' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
736c16ca8b11fd51f65c8374fef656f4
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describe
'126963' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAD' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
1dd4b709f7f8ceb0449c0f01378da202
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'2011-12-29T04:28:04-05:00'
describe
'38028' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAE' 'sip-files00023.pro'
813424428789cf31aef656a52a46e756
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'2011-12-29T04:31:05-05:00'
describe
'39747' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAF' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
f462e2506c6ca61971feb383702824d3
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'2011-12-29T04:31:06-05:00'
describe
'2852180' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAG' 'sip-files00023.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:21-05:00'
describe
'1510' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAH' 'sip-files00023.txt'
e6e7562a010540105328f6351fe43f09
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'2011-12-29T04:30:47-05:00'
describe
'9736' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAI' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
c09391c54a88a14782624bf7fbb54692
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'2011-12-29T04:27:53-05:00'
describe
'369915' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAJ' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:28-05:00'
describe
'116500' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAK' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
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describe
'35472' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAL' 'sip-files00024.pro'
a155d34437ac1a861dd5f5d35ec28f79
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describe
'36148' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAM' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
a4dc352a8fdb167c9983de2761c9cdf6
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'2011-12-29T04:30:41-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAN' 'sip-files00024.tif'
1e727f52835caffb7cb046e43296af81
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'2011-12-29T04:30:59-05:00'
describe
'1413' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAO' 'sip-files00024.txt'
5a380a7ae0dfdfa1d14c58f001b04d2e
d58a6fa1cffdae4105b28db8b60d930d82ba3878
'2011-12-29T04:26:51-05:00'
describe
'8662' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAP' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
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describe
'369999' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAQ' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:48-05:00'
describe
'133086' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAR' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
ef7363c3ebbc7c9c026bd2d1deddb930
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describe
'41039' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAS' 'sip-files00025.pro'
75156f2859d4f8dc9358bb6070f32fed
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'2011-12-29T04:28:26-05:00'
describe
'41642' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAT' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
afd6987d27b50a5e8f0396180481b217
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'2011-12-29T04:26:32-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAU' 'sip-files00025.tif'
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describe
'1617' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAV' 'sip-files00025.txt'
e727ae60402811a241e90fbfaba6f909
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'2011-12-29T04:30:29-05:00'
describe
'9872' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAW' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
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describe
'369983' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAX' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
514e58acc2a7fb8111aaa44e589fe77d
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describe
'125370' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAY' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
af19c5abd4e79f5d32059a427b7e8d2b
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'2011-12-29T04:27:41-05:00'
describe
'37872' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMAZ' 'sip-files00026.pro'
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describe
'38549' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBA' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
4a9e7907ffac364b14efcb4b304e0bc3
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBB' 'sip-files00026.tif'
a4628437c066c9c136743cae454061c9
af041873f48e1a0fc45a7ef1ad2c9a3c0b21abd4
'2011-12-29T04:31:07-05:00'
describe
'1493' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBC' 'sip-files00026.txt'
401712a3d1166b48795707dab9a5dd81
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'2011-12-29T04:27:21-05:00'
describe
'9357' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBD' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:00-05:00'
describe
'369833' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBE' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
41371af981d28df12e42394ac3d66b19
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describe
'131921' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBF' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
f317c79ea536b4c9b4aae1ea6c3fd80b
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describe
'39085' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBG' 'sip-files00027.pro'
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describe
'40824' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBH' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
6f219dfc4db7c444b75efd13e535052e
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'2011-12-29T04:30:28-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBI' 'sip-files00027.tif'
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describe
'1545' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBJ' 'sip-files00027.txt'
545070bbd1e653168815795d58b1ed2d
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describe
'9714' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBK' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:11-05:00'
describe
'370002' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBL' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
433c4ca51db6b1bb5e085286370d2b08
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'2011-12-29T04:28:11-05:00'
describe
'129674' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBM' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
3d6ebaffad1ca6137b017c55647b5a48
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'2011-12-29T04:27:29-05:00'
describe
'39234' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBN' 'sip-files00028.pro'
aa32a7e218284fc561d383eb674eb4b2
cce709635b9f32d9378c16447e4d45866be3b338
'2011-12-29T04:30:13-05:00'
describe
'39367' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBO' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
1cfc8e965d640fd4ff66e77d34d2b7fe
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBP' 'sip-files00028.tif'
ab7239112b06a80809867f47548a1cc2
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describe
'1548' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBQ' 'sip-files00028.txt'
fde0a3e5abeceff95d7f2b121d003cf2
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'2011-12-29T04:28:16-05:00'
describe
'9384' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBR' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
9d0ce407284cffe42353bd752688e8f4
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'2011-12-29T04:28:24-05:00'
describe
'370005' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBS' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
be7c1dd3d2c5c571b1c732c20e5eacf4
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'2011-12-29T04:30:18-05:00'
describe
'127538' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBT' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
952a4674932bc8fa181711a9d213a60e
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'2011-12-29T04:26:44-05:00'
describe
'37832' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBU' 'sip-files00029.pro'
91e42bb011546638882e7a1c3717fbbe
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'2011-12-29T04:27:00-05:00'
describe
'38881' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBV' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
ea04b2e9ae5aefca64147f475ee89a48
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'2011-12-29T04:27:10-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBW' 'sip-files00029.tif'
be210fd34dddfb376f37c5c75f309f78
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describe
'1497' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBX' 'sip-files00029.txt'
2a49b22c3b123d738cbcd5d3a61f1b59
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'2011-12-29T04:29:57-05:00'
describe
'9484' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBY' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
b204584f11c9f2fd187cc9d5a02bbc30
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describe
'370211' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMBZ' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
b3336f8564a87ed9fd69c24c4420745e
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'2011-12-29T04:28:01-05:00'
describe
'125656' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCA' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
86c41ead32eba73387f036a27ba8f2d4
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'2011-12-29T04:26:48-05:00'
describe
'38979' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCB' 'sip-files00030.pro'
cba449caf6c78aa94511ad144ed585ba
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describe
'39619' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCC' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:28-05:00'
describe
'2978964' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCD' 'sip-files00030.tif'
4d83d526a1bccc1335e43d19cbbad26f
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'2011-12-29T04:26:50-05:00'
describe
'1553' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCE' 'sip-files00030.txt'
31abd9865a49d5151e5cf2357e098df3
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describe
'9416' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCF' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
a7b3ebb31bc018b98b5deca005cfa52e
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describe
'369979' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCG' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
dc8c85e4f0b1648c6b8377d7e0c93683
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'2011-12-29T04:26:57-05:00'
describe
'124028' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCH' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
a8c7739586708c91fa8004eb9c79bba7
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'2011-12-29T04:29:59-05:00'
describe
'38323' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCI' 'sip-files00031.pro'
5e1a6ff3a2eef50470fac6e5f016ba6d
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describe
'38097' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCJ' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
c4940b981dc2a5875f4a2012b6182b01
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCK' 'sip-files00031.tif'
9a43040ba20a690e415dd8889f25b09a
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'2011-12-29T04:28:23-05:00'
describe
'1512' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCL' 'sip-files00031.txt'
2dcc90662dbfa9d48dfb9b136aff5407
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describe
'9217' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCM' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
b0c28ca366e72cb5fc7e5cd50e44ad0b
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'2011-12-29T04:26:35-05:00'
describe
'370001' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCN' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
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describe
'120268' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCO' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:04-05:00'
describe
'36090' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCP' 'sip-files00032.pro'
64874487b37ff5e5ac54a3acdac7d67d
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describe
'36921' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCQ' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:56-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCR' 'sip-files00032.tif'
e1a092df88982aa47c4fa853c189e050
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'2011-12-29T04:30:12-05:00'
describe
'1426' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCS' 'sip-files00032.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:53-05:00'
describe
'9126' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCT' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:25-05:00'
describe
'370059' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCU' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
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describe
'126883' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCV' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
b001037bf1c623096fd85f51d75848b8
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'2011-12-29T04:30:50-05:00'
describe
'36905' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCW' 'sip-files00033.pro'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:34-05:00'
describe
'37952' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCX' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCY' 'sip-files00033.tif'
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describe
'1460' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMCZ' 'sip-files00033.txt'
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describe
'9644' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDA' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:29-05:00'
describe
'369651' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDB' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:55-05:00'
describe
'40959' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDC' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
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describe
'5968' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDD' 'sip-files00034.pro'
2784215d4b248169abd931950da2ddb9
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'2011-12-29T04:28:12-05:00'
describe
'9754' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDE' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
fb32e6a3d26ca83186e8032a75572bae
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'2011-12-29T04:27:12-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDF' 'sip-files00034.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:43-05:00'
describe
'253' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDG' 'sip-files00034.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:37-05:00'
describe
'2472' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDH' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:55-05:00'
describe
'370245' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDI' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:55-05:00'
describe
'100777' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDJ' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
aa0ed98c9d21a8fd021686f2a5086f1f
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'2011-12-29T04:27:15-05:00'
describe
'27912' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDK' 'sip-files00035.pro'
fe55c677c1a9209f30ee92f5b6f14f32
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describe
'30169' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDL' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:50-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDM' 'sip-files00035.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:47-05:00'
describe
'1168' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDN' 'sip-files00035.txt'
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describe
'7340' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDO' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:41-05:00'
describe
'370261' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDP' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
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describe
'128358' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDQ' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:52-05:00'
describe
'39081' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDR' 'sip-files00036.pro'
964f741936618150bc48f2d5885f407d
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describe
'39706' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDS' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
8ca6d0501ccebc5b8dac30b5106afc53
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'2011-12-29T04:26:18-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDT' 'sip-files00036.tif'
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describe
'1538' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDU' 'sip-files00036.txt'
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describe
'9594' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDV' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:30-05:00'
describe
'369993' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDW' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
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describe
'130969' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDX' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:05-05:00'
describe
'38667' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDY' 'sip-files00037.pro'
c4d41b357f04b8f20f3853a25b708036
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'2011-12-29T04:26:39-05:00'
describe
'39134' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMDZ' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:06-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEA' 'sip-files00037.tif'
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describe
'1526' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEB' 'sip-files00037.txt'
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describe
'9187' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEC' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
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describe
'370184' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMED' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:38-05:00'
describe
'123396' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEE' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
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describe
'37779' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEF' 'sip-files00038.pro'
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describe
'38234' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEG' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:59-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEH' 'sip-files00038.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:53-05:00'
describe
'1489' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEI' 'sip-files00038.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:13-05:00'
describe
'9133' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEJ' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:14-05:00'
describe
'369788' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEK' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:05-05:00'
describe
'117206' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEL' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
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describe
'35597' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEM' 'sip-files00039.pro'
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describe
'35823' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEN' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEO' 'sip-files00039.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:19-05:00'
describe
'1417' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEP' 'sip-files00039.txt'
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describe
'8506' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEQ' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:40-05:00'
describe
'369937' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMER' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
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describe
'127065' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMES' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
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describe
'39244' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMET' 'sip-files00040.pro'
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describe
'39262' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEU' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:20-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEV' 'sip-files00040.tif'
cb3e5291704c78d1f5ef62f9ebd9972f
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describe
'1552' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEW' 'sip-files00040.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:48-05:00'
describe
'9795' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEX' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
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describe
'369876' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEY' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:02-05:00'
describe
'125772' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMEZ' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
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describe
'36427' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFA' 'sip-files00041.pro'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:56-05:00'
describe
'38645' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFB' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFC' 'sip-files00041.tif'
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describe
'1443' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFD' 'sip-files00041.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:40-05:00'
describe
'9130' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFE' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
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describe
'369828' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFF' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:31:00-05:00'
describe
'125253' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFG' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
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describe
'38602' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFH' 'sip-files00042.pro'
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describe
'39115' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFI' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFJ' 'sip-files00042.tif'
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describe
'1521' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFK' 'sip-files00042.txt'
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describe
'9085' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFL' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
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describe
'369952' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFM' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
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describe
'125086' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFN' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
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describe
'38326' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFO' 'sip-files00043.pro'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:59-05:00'
describe
'38924' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFP' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:56-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFQ' 'sip-files00043.tif'
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describe
'1516' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFR' 'sip-files00043.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:31:13-05:00'
describe
'9283' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFS' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:46-05:00'
describe
'369992' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFT' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
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describe
'125719' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFU' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
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describe
'39661' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFV' 'sip-files00044.pro'
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describe
'39783' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFW' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
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describe
'2976820' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFX' 'sip-files00044.tif'
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describe
'1561' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFY' 'sip-files00044.txt'
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describe
'9759' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMFZ' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:32-05:00'
describe
'369796' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGA' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
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describe
'125270' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGB' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
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describe
'38144' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGC' 'sip-files00045.pro'
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describe
'38697' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGD' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:02-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGE' 'sip-files00045.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:58-05:00'
describe
'1504' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGF' 'sip-files00045.txt'
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describe
'9410' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGG' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:57-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGH' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
3c667571c204f7cffdf059f4f91e6237
518fc2eecb9280ccd4d32b8e9c01a90245b6feb7
'2011-12-29T04:28:42-05:00'
describe
'130152' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGI' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
c57a4243c3bedc79e7b803929427f07c
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describe
'41021' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGJ' 'sip-files00046.pro'
b07d3a32a90b98fd34ee3c9e1c8ea4e6
c69c75a6f455071bdf3a4c0dff6ca4ea6d286d28
'2011-12-29T04:30:22-05:00'
describe
'40230' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGK' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
08eeff3b10155ffd257fe5682011a581
bc1d4f07f3240f95e02427af7026109d22dc7384
'2011-12-29T04:30:03-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGL' 'sip-files00046.tif'
4b912722a58c3ef130457559f0695850
a726f41cc02f9922e64b0aeffb78478df9dd0c58
'2011-12-29T04:30:44-05:00'
describe
'1612' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGM' 'sip-files00046.txt'
e937317c2dd085943d5070a203d81daa
484282fbf7636f94addf898612585f66eda8db75
describe
'9578' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGN' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
266e0015b5f1710909c87f17d510fd3d
bb089ba280f8e851ad0111de6244973a6f699b67
'2011-12-29T04:26:36-05:00'
describe
'370221' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGO' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
06a028c2657b318b83117bde00768d51
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describe
'131652' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGP' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
efec9ccdd2c6bec6321b5b77cf5aadd7
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'2011-12-29T04:30:16-05:00'
describe
'40276' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGQ' 'sip-files00047.pro'
f84c4e7899465d47ac8905cbd6719fd9
d314522b0017f9f9124d232fc42e9972c61ccf52
'2011-12-29T04:30:15-05:00'
describe
'40590' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGR' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
527d03e12e5fc29a440634a33316951a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGS' 'sip-files00047.tif'
8d50f9f4bd6691f9a79e6d038566a87a
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describe
'1581' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGT' 'sip-files00047.txt'
ad8f9d39e202ec9ca097b1992c04562f
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describe
'9555' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGU' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
b622c89b5c91d047919f5ac575366694
e47b82f8a886b0bfe21485449b390ca55e7406ba
describe
'369898' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGV' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
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describe
'126748' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGW' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
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describe
'38056' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGX' 'sip-files00048.pro'
795961396b6eea0cf3e6663b6daca86c
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describe
'39679' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGY' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
7905fc19a2e93c4ce6cef0df15bfdd57
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'2011-12-29T04:27:47-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMGZ' 'sip-files00048.tif'
178d55187b2c893188bb68f7341ffeb0
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describe
'1498' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHA' 'sip-files00048.txt'
68d7b2155731bdee4805f51ad028931f
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describe
'9631' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHB' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
ff8b72c891488da495965d01e269350f
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describe
'369959' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHC' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
6e0aca25beeeefc85942c17215cf5a2a
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describe
'131271' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHD' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
e66e407ac8efaa1d380ff97e71f33ecf
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describe
'40113' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHE' 'sip-files00049.pro'
b50b62b3602bced6e6059ad9094c8440
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describe
'40168' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHF' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
f1d5aaedf9d218ce7528c29576cc6378
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'2011-12-29T04:31:03-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHG' 'sip-files00049.tif'
32e3d32476184cf28bf70cf49270406a
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describe
'1579' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHH' 'sip-files00049.txt'
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describe
'9591' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHI' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
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describe
'369980' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHJ' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
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describe
'117907' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHK' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
2478c135ebaa7a025a83110fbdfa3bb9
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'2011-12-29T04:30:51-05:00'
describe
'37324' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHL' 'sip-files00050.pro'
86ab480954a7583ce4c4aa4e22169276
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describe
'37593' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHM' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
4870ff513d6366d415c0fb252c09bbe5
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHN' 'sip-files00050.tif'
32125821f5102e53f8adcf2d3c3a1aa9
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describe
'1472' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHO' 'sip-files00050.txt'
86413456be87a69294fb5247af17f4c2
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describe
'9259' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHP' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
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describe
'369986' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHQ' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
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describe
'116604' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHR' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
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describe
'34722' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHS' 'sip-files00051.pro'
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describe
'35926' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHT' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHU' 'sip-files00051.tif'
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describe
'1379' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHV' 'sip-files00051.txt'
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describe
'9019' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHW' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
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describe
'370225' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHX' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
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describe
'124113' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHY' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
aaa6f3ad3473feeaa78b6c9e95c31ba8
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describe
'39460' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMHZ' 'sip-files00052.pro'
847e21f21d7d7cc68461ed11abf4b6b1
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describe
'39412' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIA' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
cb376eea88c3680fe3956d873960ea1f
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIB' 'sip-files00052.tif'
9f14a120a1c9e948a35870fe48001d9b
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describe
'1565' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIC' 'sip-files00052.txt'
e8f3af11ee65571178434050cdd63427
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'2011-12-29T04:27:37-05:00'
describe
'9419' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMID' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
766f283b1ec3e91466a7568d3ac1c49d
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describe
'369928' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIE' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
e77806a259bd84d6ff025b18c2fdc6d2
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describe
'102580' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIF' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
8751b4ac64d9bf774dc5a8701c0b5cb8
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'2011-12-29T04:30:26-05:00'
describe
'30592' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIG' 'sip-files00053.pro'
755d4a6bd18df4de72342f52bf6e7f03
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describe
'32021' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIH' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
ec2786626be62099bb5bc705ecf694a7
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'2011-12-29T04:27:11-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMII' 'sip-files00053.tif'
412ccfcf9eaad381e852a8aa087d9f61
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describe
'1220' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIJ' 'sip-files00053.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:20-05:00'
describe
'7805' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIK' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIL' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
a94da9d8dac7be1497054c32118d5cdd
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describe
'96255' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIM' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
d483b67aace7951fbf32dde1aececa12
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describe
'27965' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIN' 'sip-files00054.pro'
0351124597772a6712ac5d877a27424e
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describe
'29382' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIO' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
973fbe647cf37d98ed60b604eef4c282
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'2011-12-29T04:26:31-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIP' 'sip-files00054.tif'
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describe
'1137' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIQ' 'sip-files00054.txt'
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describe
'6956' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIR' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
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describe
'369908' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIS' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:31:02-05:00'
describe
'124383' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIT' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
ee8061e1d01953241e68f162ced94d61
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'2011-12-29T04:26:28-05:00'
describe
'37286' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIU' 'sip-files00055.pro'
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describe
'37724' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIV' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIW' 'sip-files00055.tif'
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describe
'1474' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIX' 'sip-files00055.txt'
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describe
'9383' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIY' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:46-05:00'
describe
'370075' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMIZ' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:54-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJA' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
ecbe563a156eb931a57675ebfb04c510
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describe
'40656' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJB' 'sip-files00056.pro'
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describe
'40393' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJC' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
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describe
'2977592' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJD' 'sip-files00056.tif'
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describe
'1593' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJE' 'sip-files00056.txt'
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describe
'9554' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJF' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:19-05:00'
describe
'370208' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJG' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:16-05:00'
describe
'129846' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJH' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
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describe
'37966' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJI' 'sip-files00057.pro'
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describe
'39401' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJJ' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:07-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJK' 'sip-files00057.tif'
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describe
'1506' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJL' 'sip-files00057.txt'
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describe
'9348' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJM' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:23-05:00'
describe
'369806' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJN' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
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describe
'124355' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJO' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
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describe
'39659' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJP' 'sip-files00058.pro'
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describe
'38986' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJQ' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJR' 'sip-files00058.tif'
7efc9ec2e716ad12170d2cce953a5937
5b338ff5721f2505265fc2532f1f3b5745c8e27c
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJS' 'sip-files00058.txt'
be2ac12380ccd9ce5bd917a40b00b0c4
6f8bdf653952d968e6f8b3ca6a8c1f44f6d8d214
describe
'9178' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJT' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
1f93d7c096a16218af658e3b37da8e2e
9d0dcc750efa38661b60c1ba3a30de5d78a524d8
describe
'370086' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJU' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
4481f1de2afa7d282f0b6cd88ac49f61
4945b17f2b07939cf54633bcacbdaa6a97af7e43
describe
'121723' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJV' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
5982908018137e2ff3c737add1167d12
8be021eae55753826ae130498941f85184564df4
describe
'36576' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJW' 'sip-files00059.pro'
d7342f33818f3cb76021e443b9fb854c
30c262a3ac2a1593c091a4ef7bcbdeba847c8f5c
describe
'37563' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJX' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
ea84f6a01fc63ace56e20744edef98bf
f0f5bd11bb9723fb484a8bf55d8f5aee75f27088
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJY' 'sip-files00059.tif'
9abcd4c5b8af67a54ddfae5bd02b5574
939859f8ebba0e633e770b6c5c10ad827001347d
describe
'1450' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMJZ' 'sip-files00059.txt'
96a4d3e8fc976036b2d65358c1a29a1d
44ec3a756f81a5e2055549dae3dafb409f29eac6
describe
'8972' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKA' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
f6b7949f438e06fea782d6f4e8e711d9
ab9137495f90f387bc773919656884ebaff72753
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKB' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
cfd0d550e105e956f32269229d9a4054
29bf5386cb611281fd9c5ec7ae8044494c615ae9
describe
'125571' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKC' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
d1a487ff9f20f55351cbc8653de05f74
64d33f03f48962be0ec77db10473f713d818f719
describe
'38716' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKD' 'sip-files00060.pro'
868ba11e7bf43a6dd558a0226bb7f0b8
85161f5fb872a645b92c1b97ab18573c1b3d9a2a
'2011-12-29T04:27:25-05:00'
describe
'40579' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKE' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
eac7e720d3a7028c3b6e78bb5db9ce37
17744e572553218fbe0183e39f9159eea3eb082a
'2011-12-29T04:30:10-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKF' 'sip-files00060.tif'
af918a35a15ea709850eeb09177a5dd5
a1dfd8c78dea921c0404036e4291535ca31a2d9d
describe
'1529' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKG' 'sip-files00060.txt'
5140e2ed5a5941fa77b9f2ae580728a5
f88352e2bb48264bb9b116ca3997c34a641011a2
describe
'9752' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKH' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
5b6fac7f19446fc72598f32e1367ab16
eb80f821ff92fe87a56413c1a1606685bd4b6da6
describe
'369814' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKI' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
e12d509bbc22e457941c800b021feeb5
1c05758c7df8b6b70ee7cbfd40ae776d80579ecb
describe
'126119' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKJ' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
2354761252fd8232d321ac63ff7915ca
8c16fc17b0a16eb256ba30c63053a79ed01cc40a
describe
'37406' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKK' 'sip-files00061.pro'
fe51d2aacf8802e67f63f135543e935f
8052d63318b062d0dd92780e2380ac5a0ef93f6d
'2011-12-29T04:29:50-05:00'
describe
'38832' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKL' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
33a149d1f508ed7a34197d55f0e729c4
e64e7c958d0dd0d3884e0124c1f377de85afe158
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKM' 'sip-files00061.tif'
95fb9dc80a4778c2e48267caaddc3c6c
7887c683bf99a2511aaeec1a1a5fcc123274fe71
'2011-12-29T04:29:26-05:00'
describe
'1482' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKN' 'sip-files00061.txt'
9a34e0092a22fe4ccf079adedfe5a3dc
5fbcf1cac1415f00d8b52960d84213bd949e12fd
describe
'9119' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKO' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
08d5e47784b19542d110431de821ae5d
c1b6d1f4a2e52fba17b9da06bd631a6b9b088113
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKP' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
61ca0e624b3102e514943f1704cb2984
e991767feee4e3d33d2cac61fa5b01415a9648e6
'2011-12-29T04:29:23-05:00'
describe
'107560' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKQ' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
f028c93eb1f7d0eef84919647b4ea4e3
86120ce7746c4efa5b400352c260c6ee29d7054e
describe
'33601' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKR' 'sip-files00062.pro'
d76647d244317360060633c564268d5f
7da2ce7a63a6977e4de221fda823957d1b9a8a66
'2011-12-29T04:30:30-05:00'
describe
'34349' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKS' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
9aedfe5dc53e9f415f0a16aefa37f962
4211f75ae0299604686feb07159885237980284d
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKT' 'sip-files00062.tif'
1a80c9fc82ee15631302e8bc9a516059
9c56f2d9eb3ea8a14609818a30c4a8763dd641ef
describe
'1344' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKU' 'sip-files00062.txt'
6c47c88539dd6e011db398e85d729b61
0f5ec461f4c93b9c65991bb076a2e7526c7d785d
'2011-12-29T04:27:39-05:00'
describe
'8600' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKV' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
f226cebedd59cce3846e857fafe4797e
0bbd821400f3d55944982a95f286d3142aaf02c9
describe
'369949' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKW' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
0cd9547aeab804a98779913476cecd1f
93e74b3021886f071f44d304f2a1160bf2622cb6
describe
'125406' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKX' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
879ca973ed4dbda7604e1f825ef7d71f
6bc1a8219e0794b35fe393c3ce1be9c3d3c90444
describe
'38680' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKY' 'sip-files00063.pro'
e7be58f9735f2ac31cff0d5c8006c893
63d39541ba91ccb41e453e0d1481e404121dc445
describe
'39388' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMKZ' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
ca6c6553e891e47e56d3acf9a0405c78
b28f82c39d8afb7af30e2c3cd1e521d4ea011d95
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLA' 'sip-files00063.tif'
e417a600371144ba57708bc5800bf884
6d95f5069e11bd36b5d03011c37befc2dd504a79
describe
'1530' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLB' 'sip-files00063.txt'
a4eae2154046a79323f4c8a60e68e801
3288ff9156374a45f7d13d51632882f36a6fb994
describe
'9758' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLC' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
d75d3c8fac683da4b0eba46caec5d422
9950964ef0641b37633c335bcae49d443014fd6a
describe
'369974' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLD' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
b5fb55a92a27c703ede3cec69176a04b
dac3142a978d39141fe2c20b5e98cef6820d1132
describe
'121971' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLE' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
9cc88c928f7de00ce04e0c54d6300466
cc387b0c2fb5418f023e568553d00ef2785f108d
describe
'38359' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLF' 'sip-files00064.pro'
c5e8ea66878af9ee91d36506c1e0ea7a
734e3e050c7254b299ad6e763d9879d1b38325cc
describe
'39130' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLG' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
6e4f7565e5fe70e76a38831c3b0bd1d3
442635d40c06d1288a7bf93df8b2ce6b7fb4d108
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLH' 'sip-files00064.tif'
d4e7fc5ddde13d8696574990b716b7ef
d6c63e90a0d2f13c0eb00d9c2ef06ce8ba661624
'2011-12-29T04:27:46-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLI' 'sip-files00064.txt'
4244649d1e9af1e8d6c36e66d4a12868
874e01d75f2b171111fb5e3be51ab7dd4a5088b7
describe
'9377' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLJ' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
be4924111c4d9175871db4746eb1f772
6654f0cdd7c01cff0b889ea9ff7e36b8f9124887
describe
'369987' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLK' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
d4b49a2925c7be269e0740cf43762a3b
75370be1b7ab89a9420dcc30d7ccd24c933f387c
describe
'119223' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLL' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
aac386579d462bb1e1aa306653cc91d6
62ccf3a3533fc567f0119a91abb8bbd39eed8bc7
describe
'35246' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLM' 'sip-files00065.pro'
e3d8bb0812215330d72ebd5e2808c0fd
ced13ff7778c865739530de281786b2c7669ee4f
describe
'36721' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLN' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
6a8cff206f6de94105cdfab9dd493cce
497a8d139492ce3eda1eecd28c07f9140a215d3e
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLO' 'sip-files00065.tif'
5ba5315d1bea83bbf1608924375e7e15
5e1b7ef195eef9e56ee4b80c9d9d986db4f09849
describe
'1405' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLP' 'sip-files00065.txt'
d7d939d5a49a69fc088542e2fd087f45
f36f49b39bf339f833a7368f1b6ba999e746b1c1
describe
'9000' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLQ' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
9493ac184c0687052ea79c8088e0ca44
92e084b0a2a40b5c231ffa9369b24d356f56eb0f
describe
'369994' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLR' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
b8cab19762fb7ada9a9ffa49ff693dde
56ca113019f45e7b01dab9199835462bccdd86a9
'2011-12-29T04:26:27-05:00'
describe
'128845' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLS' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
40d69abe40f52d6f8b27b489ff145427
aac31fb7ed127bc6d1c77614e16c402eca2ebd20
describe
'37527' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLT' 'sip-files00066.pro'
6d35f8b4d702a6419476228e39701b5a
87cff3199cde8268ae755f90ef937928b91575bf
describe
'38796' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLU' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
44f82f36b111a5d67db5c6c4fc14b32d
7e901d7ed2df52041ac2adc3cb62b6cf7abd5f95
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLV' 'sip-files00066.tif'
0f358ccecc1eee432d4c66a0603f9b02
b3a992c20b5cb37acb3053041db54cafb603f4e5
'2011-12-29T04:27:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLW' 'sip-files00066.txt'
0ef9c1e431697996de50dee423909b81
99b24565effc782f3c9c845fc73203af110bd58c
describe
'9214' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLX' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
f43fa288dcddd147eb1f242953c5baa3
10e6bac278f05dc36348c1201953779cc577e359
describe
'379693' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLY' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
0d2b68cae06a2a2c2b8c69a7fd31baf0
7a259a5ca0aa0cf2081ff90fe1a30c3ac2c001ac
describe
'53428' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMLZ' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
086d1c1752e721fea859d7132cb17141
29bd0d65885dcc2538245d412862d2cdc1d4d0e8
describe
'2714' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMA' 'sip-files00067.pro'
3b86329ce36d97602f58613360d877b7
7a4765e4eb848dd63110e039565180084d4c1fba
describe
'14109' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMB' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
3d324c6fd5d06139225485508aae6b21
367de9a64e485e9ecc7b46b3d2aedc2ceeebac70
describe
'3054328' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMC' 'sip-files00067.tif'
18f0c0002de15efe10ff9bf738640155
c1bc1a5cf4129622a4d5bc5c9e382842e6f99129
describe
'160' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMD' 'sip-files00067.txt'
61a267bec88e02f678e86a4dd25d1e40
cf3ee4832710f9748b48833454d100a74be13eb2
describe
Invalid character
'3753' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMME' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
d71f84e3749123d2d4c931264785a9c6
f20388b2b33b811ef35df3a8f245cbdeb0e5d41d
describe
'369890' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMF' 'sip-files00068.jp2'
af27e1268e7fb04788b51cd0ee1a30bc
c87b124d3050d18d6515211bd8cd2c863de2616c
'2011-12-29T04:27:45-05:00'
describe
'25811' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMG' 'sip-files00068.jpg'
c196f714830aec1b7884f4e93b643f9b
13989df3e6057bbcea8eb9dad8e830446749a787
describe
'4372' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMH' 'sip-files00068.QC.jpg'
089add31f8b14b91c22568a002b38c90
f1e4ca104e32fca6f2594bde5cad831aa2ec4a74
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMI' 'sip-files00068.tif'
a9ac6acd10a01e2d61f1fc467ec454b9
ab672f6ae665e498578b3dbdb1d9f586088c34e0
describe
'1124' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMJ' 'sip-files00068thm.jpg'
5fb8c0ca42a427a45b29d5413f4addad
ab622f6002e03e297eb6550de8dd083452500185
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMK' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
e381210d7c968550936bf393243b30f6
06239459ea387273296a36eb27cb4c2a281330e3
describe
'145561' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMML' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
f0eaa878e5f54d2f9404f1c69fa7b71d
46db008c92248c3ac808f798462564d1324da77a
describe
'41107' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMM' 'sip-files00069.pro'
4a2aeaf1d5742534eda97d0b450ccfb2
e0c482d7bf044744376d30418cb99991c8d43bc4
'2011-12-29T04:28:17-05:00'
describe
'42681' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMN' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
03d4d16984161ede4fc66685688345b9
9c9503dc07479de18a47383bf37301f4d21341eb
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMO' 'sip-files00069.tif'
af84eb6d7fff5dd07af1d5be0bcb23fe
0c5b9dc0fb5b306f3e7363ce4538722a2385eb2d
describe
'1623' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMP' 'sip-files00069.txt'
4a9305d543cf626d6830c821a52aac9d
0523dcf7a44a303797f6092252957b943cf4ee8b
describe
'9926' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMQ' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
03dcbcb060c5396b0301bc048cecfa28
5d31408888f75d32c079cb0ad8316afa6e614516
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMR' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
d615d00b715ef128f07dc2800ff41075
49736be942b106e5b02bb1e673445485cff8ab55
describe
'124566' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMS' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
b7c6b7b27fac367606a8d6c883278933
f483f21b9b82d3819ac95a12950e4b6793b4d5da
describe
'39610' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMT' 'sip-files00070.pro'
e04fa28132c7ba76bf801929cfa08124
c6facdb7f09a62c1593e6ca5cb1ee653e556b8ab
describe
'39390' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMU' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
9d1aea1fd45ab44cd4323aff844e2223
c8160a17d2e61ce491b7db5d9280827fb65678bd
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMV' 'sip-files00070.tif'
4f7c61e51de7cd50768f880ebd9ae061
af9dfe363a1f6da9f6623960aad016729fffe01d
describe
'1555' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMW' 'sip-files00070.txt'
99ed1191b74839ceb59fdf7700e8f066
86cee0c465b893f1b811becea39f3c96a6aa96bc
describe
'9448' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMX' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
d1a22e019f326ac822eefb26270b17e1
45c807578fbec369820e8675bc3f7e2fd9300d90
'2011-12-29T04:30:23-05:00'
describe
'370094' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMY' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
b6796f9d7de632dcc10acf74bae7b787
86ae11f7a6dde77280978766f6bd94824c6e0afe
describe
'132673' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMMZ' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
cd8e4b867fa70a2334c57201a87bf7f8
e553e1be364e6628bf9bca84e1a61b2f0002e860
describe
'41554' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNA' 'sip-files00071.pro'
2e93be09db7a4e818dd4a5987cf19dfb
27cc9f5892d4d8b8916861a62c5091974616ada4
describe
'41419' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNB' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
40e58cc7aefb6175a5d6c0d2a013a058
c54cfe12ee4f73c6f079341f3b8aca7705a83f74
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNC' 'sip-files00071.tif'
4a982eb8cd29840aa0aef17c77ee4c94
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describe
'1628' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMND' 'sip-files00071.txt'
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describe
'9763' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNE' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
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describe
'370267' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNF' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
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describe
'110105' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNG' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
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describe
'33271' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNH' 'sip-files00072.pro'
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describe
'34298' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNI' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNJ' 'sip-files00072.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:23-05:00'
describe
'1346' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNK' 'sip-files00072.txt'
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describe
'8577' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNL' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
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describe
'369950' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNM' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
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describe
'57257' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNN' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
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describe
'12311' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNO' 'sip-files00073.pro'
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describe
'15221' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNP' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNQ' 'sip-files00073.tif'
d3c536aefa8e0da0d02b589b7a330bd0
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describe
'509' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNR' 'sip-files00073.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:31:04-05:00'
describe
'3769' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNS' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
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describe
'370019' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNT' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
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describe
'94696' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNU' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
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describe
'27530' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNV' 'sip-files00074.pro'
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describe
'28738' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNW' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNX' 'sip-files00074.tif'
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describe
'1151' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNY' 'sip-files00074.txt'
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describe
'7157' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMNZ' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOA' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
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describe
'128307' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOB' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:24-05:00'
describe
'39586' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOC' 'sip-files00075.pro'
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describe
'39341' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOD' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:48-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOE' 'sip-files00075.tif'
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describe
'1570' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOF' 'sip-files00075.txt'
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describe
'9206' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOG' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
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describe
'370004' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOH' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:17-05:00'
describe
'116231' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOI' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
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describe
'35538' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOJ' 'sip-files00076.pro'
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describe
'36060' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOK' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOL' 'sip-files00076.tif'
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describe
'1435' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOM' 'sip-files00076.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:58-05:00'
describe
'8782' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMON' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOO' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
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describe
'113089' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOP' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
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describe
'32897' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOQ' 'sip-files00077.pro'
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describe
'33975' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOR' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOS' 'sip-files00077.tif'
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describe
'1320' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOT' 'sip-files00077.txt'
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describe
'8704' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOU' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
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describe
'370260' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOV' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
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describe
'120085' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOW' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
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describe
'38394' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOX' 'sip-files00078.pro'
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describe
'38003' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOY' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMOZ' 'sip-files00078.tif'
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describe
'1519' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPA' 'sip-files00078.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:25-05:00'
describe
'9068' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPB' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
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describe
'369829' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPC' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
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describe
'120741' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPD' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
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describe
'36892' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPE' 'sip-files00079.pro'
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describe
'38112' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPF' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPG' 'sip-files00079.tif'
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describe
'1481' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPH' 'sip-files00079.txt'
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describe
'9303' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPI' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
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describe
'370237' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPJ' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:27:04-05:00'
describe
'121644' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPK' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:55-05:00'
describe
'36207' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPL' 'sip-files00080.pro'
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describe
'38172' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPM' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:41-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPN' 'sip-files00080.tif'
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describe
'1448' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPO' 'sip-files00080.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:39-05:00'
describe
'9368' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPP' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
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describe
'369810' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPQ' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
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describe
'118885' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPR' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
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describe
'35311' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPS' 'sip-files00081.pro'
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describe
'37008' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPT' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPU' 'sip-files00081.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPV' 'sip-files00081.txt'
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describe
'8856' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPW' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:11-05:00'
describe
'369964' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPX' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:51-05:00'
describe
'126486' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPY' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
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describe
'41093' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMPZ' 'sip-files00082.pro'
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describe
'40302' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQA' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQB' 'sip-files00082.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQC' 'sip-files00082.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:31:14-05:00'
describe
'9493' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQD' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
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describe
'369756' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQE' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
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describe
'122815' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQF' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
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describe
'37874' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQG' 'sip-files00083.pro'
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describe
'38213' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQH' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQI' 'sip-files00083.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQJ' 'sip-files00083.txt'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQK' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
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describe
'369935' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQL' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
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describe
'114873' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQM' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
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describe
'37262' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQN' 'sip-files00084.pro'
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describe
'37190' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQO' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQP' 'sip-files00084.tif'
da1a3abaf2192493a61d0497ed1f6780
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describe
'1475' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQQ' 'sip-files00084.txt'
da360d3bbcc37724491588e9cc215051
fbfb656cc732279d2cf9ebb7cc96f43d8af9b990
describe
'8847' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQR' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
ae3df26c8bc8611a2ccab7c54c7a3a9f
1c05acad7c18d68205c18c0a51ec40fa58e6ba64
'2011-12-29T04:29:51-05:00'
describe
'369991' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQS' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
823ff82ca303b9d40a1c0a173eaa6948
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describe
'109966' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQT' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
65c8e1eb69f3f058353dc2e190d9ed16
ec15ac19d60cc5a5874d2887af360764fe19c245
describe
'34292' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQU' 'sip-files00085.pro'
ca67d8a1f60fc4b9fafd9b2785eb5393
bccfd078ae4e7f11eeb52064337e8eedd2a6b481
'2011-12-29T04:29:17-05:00'
describe
'32726' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQV' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
26e45f7db15e88e9ebb5438f03aa9abe
fb7240e005e02f18992f567276200d2ff6044782
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQW' 'sip-files00085.tif'
dd16a181edfc251f8c94f3999781e49e
81dc21ab573aee9899af7fb3eb9ead4aa772b152
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQX' 'sip-files00085.txt'
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43f44b3f8d58c8e1e61f42e8c3fdc98b5ce75fec
describe
'8141' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQY' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
a8aff1c12a73d8780a63ae0a33f5a1ed
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMQZ' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
cea7edd0d42914de6afb8b3522b616c4
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describe
'119159' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRA' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
810a5b4c42e95a403369a53c769f4a1f
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describe
'37704' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRB' 'sip-files00086.pro'
6e4cfa70d0919e9baf9c0072e6d67a06
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describe
'37580' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRC' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
b6da874b2cc5eea7d74f0ca63ff18f7a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRD' 'sip-files00086.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:28-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRE' 'sip-files00086.txt'
c334618e0f5fbfb8eaccda7bdde50d60
079b402611bb4461048e040d3cb1c8375cfa3a55
'2011-12-29T04:29:58-05:00'
describe
'9016' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRF' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
e6471b7b0931866c7e0893412b371e13
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describe
'369816' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRG' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
b171f7e46d83d43604fedc7c97014bb2
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRH' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
eeb02be398654860ceb9c6dd5b8e6a0c
c6703ba9fce1e556169d35c4d9c229b673a8bc5e
'2011-12-29T04:28:07-05:00'
describe
'35796' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRI' 'sip-files00087.pro'
091e9aac7db8101d0d9c01001d646616
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describe
'34813' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRJ' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
91b5b39085d437edeab272eb342f3c03
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRK' 'sip-files00087.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRL' 'sip-files00087.txt'
4673878822577122dee94847afbbe5c3
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describe
'8748' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRM' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
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describe
'369941' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRN' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
c4045cff2088de4ad46ed43ffc46a61c
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describe
'99302' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRO' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
37a6b8c353ff92903fd9caef690a2eee
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describe
'27666' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRP' 'sip-files00088.pro'
5a673b3de1adedfaebd05b27daeee88d
6962185751c2458339905cba190a10bc95a8c8b9
'2011-12-29T04:26:21-05:00'
describe
'29748' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRQ' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
9208ece8cb4431501a838347a5157e8a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRR' 'sip-files00088.tif'
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describe
'1132' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRS' 'sip-files00088.txt'
ddf938a4236c2264bc6503f8a9945be3
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describe
'7336' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRT' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRU' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
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describe
'129008' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRV' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
defe757917d5a380d10c609a0b98eea3
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describe
'38495' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRW' 'sip-files00089.pro'
fb2081a88118766d9ded99620e29897e
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describe
'40424' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRX' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRY' 'sip-files00089.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMRZ' 'sip-files00089.txt'
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describe
'9648' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSA' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
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describe
'370266' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSB' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
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describe
'128578' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSC' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
71d45a4b42d221ca1f0ae5e16df70eea
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describe
'38382' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSD' 'sip-files00090.pro'
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describe
'39916' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSE' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSF' 'sip-files00090.tif'
aae1907c168cfd5029268f57b9a3d393
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describe
'1509' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSG' 'sip-files00090.txt'
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describe
'9571' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSH' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSI' 'sip-files00091.jp2'
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describe
'118598' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSJ' 'sip-files00091.jpg'
d5d76b2d23f6e512827aee2b3cc3d0e0
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describe
'33035' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSK' 'sip-files00091.pro'
48e97c1192a48b69ad404a88c3b8fa90
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describe
'36316' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSL' 'sip-files00091.QC.jpg'
cc77ea0cdefa6d2ae1b22977503477d6
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSM' 'sip-files00091.tif'
9c9a487facc9340b008c2a4f01290c7f
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'2011-12-29T04:27:36-05:00'
describe
'1321' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSN' 'sip-files00091.txt'
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describe
'8973' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSO' 'sip-files00091thm.jpg'
30e6c7434bc2102f76dae43c3bd32fdf
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describe
'370007' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSP' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
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describe
'134484' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSQ' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
7acf1e7d69c2039bba2b0b2b4baa7d36
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describe
'39956' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSR' 'sip-files00092.pro'
2f1fc8eaf649f492de2fb0df10c0c1e8
af74c6a26c097f943bb954aa0d2fbd24d6455cf2
'2011-12-29T04:28:58-05:00'
describe
'40910' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSS' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
5acdd363c651cb2df204be1f9f04e613
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMST' 'sip-files00092.tif'
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describe
'1573' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSU' 'sip-files00092.txt'
f6517ce35e3fa44fb10ce0024a91e633
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describe
'9697' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSV' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
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describe
'370003' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSW' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
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describe
'132476' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSX' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
f7ebaaef3421ea61e3ab93de5aa0a278
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describe
'37634' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSY' 'sip-files00093.pro'
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describe
'40135' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMSZ' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTA' 'sip-files00093.tif'
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describe
'1487' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTB' 'sip-files00093.txt'
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describe
'9650' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTC' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
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describe
'369772' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTD' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
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describe
'126222' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTE' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
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describe
'36818' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTF' 'sip-files00094.pro'
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describe
'39252' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTG' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTH' 'sip-files00094.tif'
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describe
'1462' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTI' 'sip-files00094.txt'
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describe
'9552' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTJ' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
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describe
'370081' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTK' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
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describe
'120027' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTL' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
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describe
'2031' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTM' 'sip-files00095.pro'
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describe
'30665' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTN' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
d0391da2b6793a049adf9103b68a223c
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTO' 'sip-files00095.tif'
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describe
'91' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTP' 'sip-files00095.txt'
de355dc38f2fdd83b9f81b0bcbb64fe2
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'2011-12-29T04:31:12-05:00'
describe
'8145' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTQ' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
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describe
'369682' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTR' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
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describe
'17122' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTS' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
adb147a48d6c7ff532d9a0be4007cdbb
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'2011-12-29T04:31:08-05:00'
describe
'3365' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTT' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTU' 'sip-files00096.tif'
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describe
'1004' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTV' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
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describe
'369922' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTW' 'sip-files00097.jp2'
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describe
'130919' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTX' 'sip-files00097.jpg'
c2ed5e288a1665eaec0b0034f6d91c9e
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'2011-12-29T04:31:11-05:00'
describe
'38156' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTY' 'sip-files00097.pro'
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describe
'40735' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMTZ' 'sip-files00097.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUA' 'sip-files00097.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUB' 'sip-files00097.txt'
ce540cca4b345d0e8cb9140a2e52e915
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describe
'9271' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUC' 'sip-files00097thm.jpg'
fcb23b43f7387f5ff6749fbd43b4a09c
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUD' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
934eb13e0e1a6f513508531b0b478124
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describe
'129151' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUE' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
08a4b24e1180212a2c945c684a344525
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describe
'38653' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUF' 'sip-files00098.pro'
c146ac8201de5860b265b665b71328b7
fe5991b9d01df06a1b378d206cae07f0a2cf66fb
'2011-12-29T04:28:18-05:00'
describe
'39975' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUG' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
b563f02804e5720d5141a20e324bc831
bfac758d5fad247e902e594622e469a91c41506b
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUH' 'sip-files00098.tif'
d3fd3f5a52547969b8d06b923ba7ac37
2653b66b5b13a765e6c7adffd89814b3d4aea4a3
'2011-12-29T04:28:57-05:00'
describe
'1531' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUI' 'sip-files00098.txt'
93c1fa510559bb6a83c05481139b01ce
a9ad819731b93cd8b67c222e95d1e07efcbf3aca
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUJ' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
1a1e3ecd0af9eae732ec0d1b81e527b3
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUK' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
59a663896eb4c04d6d641826c55f5bd3
cd95e1f1a0a79e3d5adaaafb349446fcae06e996
describe
'132062' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUL' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
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639d7867d0270c10425ffddffa434ab22f02aa31
describe
'39017' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUM' 'sip-files00099.pro'
14f3d558fcc83407a890825d81b8626a
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describe
'40348' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUN' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
7556c21071384ed6378b5ff2f5ec5267
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUO' 'sip-files00099.tif'
4c56ef5e40457e4b5f43d28e9ab18fc4
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describe
'1542' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUP' 'sip-files00099.txt'
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describe
'9341' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUQ' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
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describe
'369834' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUR' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
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describe
'61132' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUS' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
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describe
'15426' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUT' 'sip-files00100.pro'
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describe
'17574' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUU' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUV' 'sip-files00100.tif'
d490ad71070f0c5cbc9fbf84b078a9ed
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describe
'618' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUW' 'sip-files00100.txt'
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describe
'4556' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUX' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
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describe
'370138' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUY' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
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describe
'99969' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMUZ' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
8ad311ffa05bb4fb3baf649cd67575e4
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describe
'28425' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVA' 'sip-files00101.pro'
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describe
'31084' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVB' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVC' 'sip-files00101.tif'
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describe
'1193' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVD' 'sip-files00101.txt'
b6f0a022ff70cb794d79593f83999fae
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describe
'7450' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVE' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
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describe
'369998' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVF' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
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describe
'110490' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVG' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
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describe
'33858' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVH' 'sip-files00102.pro'
7abe2588c12f16a1975e524371d05e48
01d0b6d14cd462f0b23d5c7dc0138c3d819624a2
'2011-12-29T04:29:08-05:00'
describe
'34478' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVI' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
6e8ca8a41692dcc00551c43452a6500c
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVJ' 'sip-files00102.tif'
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describe
'1343' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVK' 'sip-files00102.txt'
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describe
'9078' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVL' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
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describe
'369724' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVM' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
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describe
'123040' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVN' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
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describe
'37964' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVO' 'sip-files00103.pro'
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describe
'38510' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVP' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
ada0f7e30d7cc04176e20c49ce516454
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVQ' 'sip-files00103.tif'
885efe36a16b42b0c45a457d559670ff
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describe
'1502' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVR' 'sip-files00103.txt'
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describe
'9063' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVS' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVT' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
4ca96f71d8af02980eb3e8cecf2cb39f
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'2011-12-29T04:30:17-05:00'
describe
'118434' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVU' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
7942fe1ffa28636565479a943cd20380
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describe
'36904' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVV' 'sip-files00104.pro'
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describe
'37587' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVW' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
b9653b3432d991eab368565b92df15ef
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVX' 'sip-files00104.tif'
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describe
'1458' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVY' 'sip-files00104.txt'
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describe
'9323' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMVZ' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWA' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
ad4fac98b03fc0c5ec4c8fa5dadd279e
1d1d5ccb0fbfd991f8df6a1cbbf45e4012c8402e
'2011-12-29T04:28:02-05:00'
describe
'126975' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWB' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
5943c5c8e775d08566a36ab6e16e7a30
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describe
'39604' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWC' 'sip-files00105.pro'
8e62c0818cc5ec1241e0bc1f3b9454c8
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describe
'40029' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWD' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWE' 'sip-files00105.tif'
7b93f7588453aae0443da6c6404fd445
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWF' 'sip-files00105.txt'
a958dd4528e01091b9101a077a353b71
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describe
'9446' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWG' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
7ca510fbfc7ef4301d27d7ccae85a372
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describe
'369990' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWH' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
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describe
'110679' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWI' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
c1d2ccca47ecbb8368bd79ee63ad8d48
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describe
'38683' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWJ' 'sip-files00106.pro'
8ddd274555e5806128dec71c53557764
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describe
'35901' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWK' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWL' 'sip-files00106.tif'
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describe
'1554' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWM' 'sip-files00106.txt'
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describe
'8639' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWN' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWO' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
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describe
'111885' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWP' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
aefef923b92cee031ca3dd90bae77aa2
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describe
'37555' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWQ' 'sip-files00107.pro'
ad2da34186773b145a0ed63abdac8c9c
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describe
'35196' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWR' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWS' 'sip-files00107.tif'
8acbb5ddda0bb5ac1b0777047295b1ed
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describe
'1479' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWT' 'sip-files00107.txt'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:35-05:00'
describe
'8606' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWU' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWV' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
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describe
'123220' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWW' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
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describe
'36117' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWX' 'sip-files00108.pro'
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describe
'38655' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWY' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:00-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMWZ' 'sip-files00108.tif'
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describe
'1432' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXA' 'sip-files00108.txt'
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describe
'9358' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXB' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
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describe
'369948' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXC' 'sip-files00109.jp2'
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describe
'125357' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXD' 'sip-files00109.jpg'
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describe
'35989' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXE' 'sip-files00109.pro'
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describe
'37934' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXF' 'sip-files00109.QC.jpg'
bdb57a3b9a01a3f8073909bb9ee610a8
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXG' 'sip-files00109.tif'
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describe
'1431' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXH' 'sip-files00109.txt'
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describe
'9254' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXI' 'sip-files00109thm.jpg'
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describe
'369977' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXJ' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:30:31-05:00'
describe
'119831' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXK' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
bc152aeda03a943dcb0a28277e7f79de
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'2011-12-29T04:29:30-05:00'
describe
'36697' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXL' 'sip-files00110.pro'
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describe
'37838' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXM' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXN' 'sip-files00110.tif'
ae4f980c0092831bc1bfa9b4463f1be8
d567b0dfa573dba5bfc6778f8089e8ee24b61392
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXO' 'sip-files00110.txt'
b7335c8521b37fcd01066048e41a9969
620d25ad2b45c00dccd8f7f471fa2ea4354f2a6c
describe
'9253' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXP' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
d18bcae9bead28339ae7f776ad6c6af3
ac92c0e7f5cb6051834f27b44a285392671fb759
'2011-12-29T04:28:33-05:00'
describe
'370065' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXQ' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
66cc05ed343c19b2c8647ccf07b4ff86
d42ceb70e3ddc1e6a265f2ad9ccb70db879ddff0
describe
'49998' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXR' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
8ce936e3eebe4a9a37ed0e90bf239a8e
3cbd66c8c31877d030ef3d84b55b63ff20c1d1da
describe
'10046' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXS' 'sip-files00111.pro'
fcb868a42eb365e9a093fbeff8f1420a
3e46f6e06370f3b1ac560460bb18ada5f40367b7
describe
'13333' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXT' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
0afb1cea5805bae8c44dcb47c049322f
75069a40ff7c93a9f4e3d65d5d34d1cfbd855be4
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXU' 'sip-files00111.tif'
f24c2a5aafb1cad88d51e760956ec016
2b378a270f932df505b8872bdc392bfa1ed33e6d
describe
'430' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXV' 'sip-files00111.txt'
4255347af693c361d217ad8baeaff5a9
fe8dcecdaac2ec0337bfacf2336d2528749538dd
describe
'3234' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXW' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
6eb6ec8be86269effa3086fa57978a46
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describe
'369748' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXX' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
afc48d254b42866e0d7da524d5107f38
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describe
'100409' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXY' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
832848a6d676b3b70b148577f101fb33
08334d0f9391b2d3b6562d20605187a1f51b3675
describe
'27997' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMXZ' 'sip-files00112.pro'
869319cbed19e0ceec590a8eb71ba10b
e58645e69b7ce2745f60743b1ddb1589dff41a52
describe
'29614' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYA' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
0ca32caae6f21099c22d5077464f2bfc
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYB' 'sip-files00112.tif'
082d552b5b595f96d6c58c2fb5ffd994
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describe
'1170' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYC' 'sip-files00112.txt'
e233360f3d342a556365db52cc622d36
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describe
'7533' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYD' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
c5d8c8e04a92357a35afb82faa6b7fdd
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describe
'369940' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYE' 'sip-files00113.jp2'
4f54730f46e10c4bfcf3f8c498028cbf
5db35520ba4b53379681a5a7dece02fdf77b5280
describe
'129502' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYF' 'sip-files00113.jpg'
6ec9ec16a69f9f0c2ec0391424a9215e
941a42b3e4c075c00ba84251d391b3b02a95dbfc
describe
'38743' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYG' 'sip-files00113.pro'
64eb2e98488ce59cf09ce06cff88131c
dda16bac420a983c164d819fc676078692cf952f
describe
'40441' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYH' 'sip-files00113.QC.jpg'
2a61bda8cf6ef48df2a38bfe4dc6151a
98071675ac5a5c1080f6c098baac06bcc194108e
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYI' 'sip-files00113.tif'
96e6a13573e963f9f6194eddbe4d7cb0
e25f4d3a4cc760812cb291b82e4311be4eb19d14
'2011-12-29T04:29:13-05:00'
describe
'1528' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYJ' 'sip-files00113.txt'
5b96f3dc7c08c4233de85277ff78263e
54f28980e2043eb0371a6ef26cf01da4ea5a8bba
describe
'9767' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYK' 'sip-files00113thm.jpg'
123c26f61c1a379f8b1881e1bdcf57c2
16292343e9930d16a839440e32961f50ed46eea5
describe
'369752' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYL' 'sip-files00114.jp2'
23a86bae222b67bd95dda7f8ecaab17b
b37332a56e24ae4553f25c465a8c66091d6794bd
describe
'96930' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYM' 'sip-files00114.jpg'
116f1bb8fe18f4fd2e570691d2f18f57
ea9d78943b69c0b714b1437c882e4478d1d40005
describe
'29106' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYN' 'sip-files00114.pro'
90156822f9ab265c032cd650c584fa37
de871cc2b735eae684799f4bcee679f4442160c3
describe
'31003' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYO' 'sip-files00114.QC.jpg'
dee18ce24557a4e464659d49dccf39a8
ffc8322cfd517f069f0b1a29f19d305b3803311d
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYP' 'sip-files00114.tif'
729e538d8ec030501176e0d6afcc1c35
8b23ef289ce9e86209366d936078227684311764
describe
'1174' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYQ' 'sip-files00114.txt'
041ce90daaf9a9cb1c77492cd8f3c89d
43223422852f073e5cbf6789d9c5354083141159
'2011-12-29T04:27:26-05:00'
describe
'7848' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYR' 'sip-files00114thm.jpg'
71302bbb0fc88e6c4ebca1610d5a58ba
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYS' 'sip-files00115.jp2'
60b75508c01e99f71b37795655f5c19b
b23ede331fa78533bbcd36d818a8a152131b6c4a
describe
'106155' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYT' 'sip-files00115.jpg'
d8e62a58c3c1e003c8dfa74fdee3f84b
c82564b677594d9de7b242c518e079bda088b60e
describe
'31301' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYU' 'sip-files00115.pro'
e9b5f1fad4878c13f5eb3cfac1687610
ab0d692aa448dd86bf94026ef43b0a3c9353ff00
describe
'32842' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYV' 'sip-files00115.QC.jpg'
db245cfa26e4c874f729cbbac8021b59
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYW' 'sip-files00115.tif'
472fed4447c31b85337e5757354d4a11
a24439639a48410a3a6bd9a9982c1e3c2298ab68
describe
'1263' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYX' 'sip-files00115.txt'
bd7014a453b0a86d1037e1bab8fd66b6
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describe
'8115' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYY' 'sip-files00115thm.jpg'
95cfb649746e5fbcd72dd2613ed22aba
da46b22aeb0399700c2702f586fea4f842670550
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMYZ' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
7593d26f54b294521956f7859c899cd5
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describe
'125055' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZA' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
e330989cbebdbb7196a51f1912283ee3
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describe
'38457' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZB' 'sip-files00116.pro'
28f70ec428fe6c097db599e6b4ca3cef
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describe
'38585' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZC' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
d3eeaaeb3e6def7563b74f56843240b1
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZD' 'sip-files00116.tif'
9c4d3f05facabb5b336d28470af13029
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describe
'1517' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZE' 'sip-files00116.txt'
e3be2e683ffd62b3a801e868fc4130b1
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describe
'9260' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZF' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
b09d3ac26c5ba62c13dec46c846cf9c6
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describe
'369957' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZG' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
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describe
'134666' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZH' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
86db619f141a5629e8c84f35f8c0f96a
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describe
'40194' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZI' 'sip-files00117.pro'
0e847c560bd24b62250a2e979ec6ac9d
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describe
'41281' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZJ' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
ad6b0d2138d1b5fcb7aeb052f75d3d4a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZK' 'sip-files00117.tif'
d9afccec1482635bbbfdc4e41e885aa9
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describe
'1584' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZL' 'sip-files00117.txt'
8c21ab2d194c94b479796eca0ae733f6
2bf5244b7a61c2d0801fa0e485cd13999f29fffb
describe
'10157' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZM' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
f3e9b68c23d92e1d3be85025dc0c5af0
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describe
'370080' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZN' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
da1a283c0689612f764fdf148b479a64
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describe
'120829' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZO' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
4beb3ecbf577542382d637b65c104b1d
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describe
'37059' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZP' 'sip-files00118.pro'
ce6b6895a6b958d01675d02b6388a969
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describe
'37947' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZQ' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZR' 'sip-files00118.tif'
cb3afbe237d31b983db9cabf1af2d0f3
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describe
'1464' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZS' 'sip-files00118.txt'
deb3d5a5ee383cbd815abcc66044a608
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describe
Invalid character
'9138' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZT' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
cdb72bab1a3e86bcb1fad056b991a06b
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describe
'370239' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZU' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
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describe
'122114' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZV' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
49f5441de3c608459daa99db7add8c40
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'2011-12-29T04:28:49-05:00'
describe
'36975' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZW' 'sip-files00119.pro'
4cebb2b2e7ea3f859e21e99a927e0afd
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describe
'37861' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZX' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
3523948dd70a975659c785ae5cba7204
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZY' 'sip-files00119.tif'
4c9287dcb1e492b9bafc23834a7a95d3
359b26aefad56597a9a659a466d65ba7f6c42286
describe
'1466' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABMZZ' 'sip-files00119.txt'
fbf444a374c868dea9b3973708ab29fb
edcf7805720899afd95c5c58721ff396a7997b13
'2011-12-29T04:28:44-05:00'
describe
'9299' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAA' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
b04d1136f8aa0aef49f481d7b04fa81d
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describe
'369924' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAB' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
b7693c24692e6a0c7d5349844755959e
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'2011-12-29T04:30:52-05:00'
describe
'128522' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAC' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
56577839f368275f7630a6a13ac415c5
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describe
'39426' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAD' 'sip-files00120.pro'
81555569d14b66fb50f06ba5e4f5d55c
d3aa6d675c908f5a4ddbc3e306a98ce0496f94ab
describe
'40495' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAE' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
72bd2151101e2d9dad3383ee09df56bc
a185a1b016bf4d7f6b60104f3a797be08e8b0c34
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAF' 'sip-files00120.tif'
872934aeebbdf19545c85e7f7a323eb1
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describe
'1562' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAG' 'sip-files00120.txt'
227e2af807073a407c8013e2e09cf068
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'2011-12-29T04:29:44-05:00'
describe
'9515' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAH' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
e0da3b61ba9f80890abe2a29b15c9346
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAI' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
dcd5cf4e377c99f374052faef03a0770
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describe
'122715' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAJ' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
c5d6b66dc6ffcef4c707c307cea3ee50
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describe
'35584' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAK' 'sip-files00121.pro'
e5002c7ebaf6c80cd20e7aa8f2337e68
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describe
'36935' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAL' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
adb9cdf6f8bd46f2126f99d1ef4f7cc7
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAM' 'sip-files00121.tif'
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describe
'1411' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAN' 'sip-files00121.txt'
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describe
'9460' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAO' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAP' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
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describe
'115704' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAQ' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
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describe
'35715' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAR' 'sip-files00122.pro'
51333179133aea531dcc106bc79d4aea
a5475e7f516f37974590841505f5ba83bf7817cd
describe
'36541' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAS' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
27757798db708505fb695b75b7663ca6
3bb272c862d6660a9754690c528100258d51791f
'2011-12-29T04:29:21-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAT' 'sip-files00122.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:26:30-05:00'
describe
'1412' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAU' 'sip-files00122.txt'
3a971588974ece05c69f58866929de40
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describe
'8908' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAV' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
bc819a0425e0c221e53e49ebe7d6feaa
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAW' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
0efaea3fe4d5e0c0d850151e30c4b491
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describe
'132400' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAX' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
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describe
'39203' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAY' 'sip-files00123.pro'
ab9a291e709c93c7134e09f180e1ed1e
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describe
'40813' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNAZ' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
c9fcfbb2ba7157e9e5a16a0e7ae7311b
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBA' 'sip-files00123.tif'
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describe
'1546' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBB' 'sip-files00123.txt'
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describe
'9907' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBC' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
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describe
'369973' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBD' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
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describe
'130337' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBE' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
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'2011-12-29T04:29:43-05:00'
describe
'40068' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBF' 'sip-files00124.pro'
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describe
'41188' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBG' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBH' 'sip-files00124.tif'
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describe
'1574' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBI' 'sip-files00124.txt'
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describe
'9943' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBJ' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBK' 'sip-files00125.jp2'
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describe
'120448' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBL' 'sip-files00125.jpg'
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describe
'36552' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBM' 'sip-files00125.pro'
a86431d3f24b6c3f29519d3f4bf483e1
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'2011-12-29T04:28:37-05:00'
describe
'37279' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBN' 'sip-files00125.QC.jpg'
fb4fba146761a7b11595ffcdeaff7c7e
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBO' 'sip-files00125.tif'
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describe
'1453' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBP' 'sip-files00125.txt'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBQ' 'sip-files00125thm.jpg'
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describe
'369740' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBR' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
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describe
'125435' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBS' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
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describe
'39306' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBT' 'sip-files00126.pro'
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describe
'39538' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBU' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBV' 'sip-files00126.tif'
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describe
'1568' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBW' 'sip-files00126.txt'
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describe
'9443' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBX' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBY' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
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describe
'133383' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNBZ' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
c19d2e31f3d36715d6ed31691c4ee4b4
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describe
'39801' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCA' 'sip-files00127.pro'
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describe
'41036' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCB' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCC' 'sip-files00127.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCD' 'sip-files00127.txt'
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describe
'9820' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCE' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
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describe
'369932' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCF' 'sip-files00128.jp2'
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describe
'124474' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCG' 'sip-files00128.jpg'
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describe
'37652' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCH' 'sip-files00128.pro'
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describe
'39218' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCI' 'sip-files00128.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCJ' 'sip-files00128.tif'
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describe
'1485' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCK' 'sip-files00128.txt'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCL' 'sip-files00128thm.jpg'
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describe
'380100' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCM' 'sip-files00129.jp2'
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describe
'54761' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCN' 'sip-files00129.jpg'
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describe
'1818' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCO' 'sip-files00129.pro'
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describe
'14057' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCP' 'sip-files00129.QC.jpg'
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describe
'3057964' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCQ' 'sip-files00129.tif'
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describe
'104' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCR' 'sip-files00129.txt'
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describe
'3894' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCS' 'sip-files00129thm.jpg'
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describe
'369970' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCT' 'sip-files00130.jp2'
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describe
'16296' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCU' 'sip-files00130.jpg'
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describe
'3467' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCV' 'sip-files00130.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCW' 'sip-files00130.tif'
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describe
'1065' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCX' 'sip-files00130thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCY' 'sip-files00131.jp2'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:40-05:00'
describe
'99620' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNCZ' 'sip-files00131.jpg'
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describe
'22868' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDA' 'sip-files00131.pro'
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describe
'27351' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDB' 'sip-files00131.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDC' 'sip-files00131.tif'
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'2011-12-29T04:28:55-05:00'
describe
'919' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDD' 'sip-files00131.txt'
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describe
'6437' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDE' 'sip-files00131thm.jpg'
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describe
'369892' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDF' 'sip-files00132.jp2'
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describe
'100721' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDG' 'sip-files00132.jpg'
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describe
'26904' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDH' 'sip-files00132.pro'
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describe
'30406' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDI' 'sip-files00132.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDJ' 'sip-files00132.tif'
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describe
'1106' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDK' 'sip-files00132.txt'
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describe
'7362' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDL' 'sip-files00132thm.jpg'
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describe
'370268' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDM' 'sip-files00133.jp2'
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describe
'130821' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDN' 'sip-files00133.jpg'
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describe
'37557' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDO' 'sip-files00133.pro'
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describe
'40327' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDP' 'sip-files00133.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDQ' 'sip-files00133.tif'
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describe
'1483' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDR' 'sip-files00133.txt'
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describe
'9695' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDS' 'sip-files00133thm.jpg'
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describe
'370270' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDT' 'sip-files00134.jp2'
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describe
'127717' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDU' 'sip-files00134.jpg'
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describe
'38889' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDV' 'sip-files00134.pro'
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describe
'40587' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDW' 'sip-files00134.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDX' 'sip-files00134.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDY' 'sip-files00134.txt'
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describe
'9547' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNDZ' 'sip-files00134thm.jpg'
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describe
'369827' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEA' 'sip-files00135.jp2'
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describe
'125171' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEB' 'sip-files00135.jpg'
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describe
'36885' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEC' 'sip-files00135.pro'
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describe
'38391' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNED' 'sip-files00135.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEE' 'sip-files00135.tif'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEF' 'sip-files00135.txt'
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describe
'9113' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEG' 'sip-files00135thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEH' 'sip-files00136.jp2'
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describe
'118921' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEI' 'sip-files00136.jpg'
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describe
'35282' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEJ' 'sip-files00136.pro'
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describe
'36958' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEK' 'sip-files00136.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEL' 'sip-files00136.tif'
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describe
'1418' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEM' 'sip-files00136.txt'
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describe
'9049' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEN' 'sip-files00136thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEO' 'sip-files00137.jp2'
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describe
'126659' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEP' 'sip-files00137.jpg'
1d9f8b76d7c4a89bd0330bd6d6029a21
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describe
'36810' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEQ' 'sip-files00137.pro'
a0cdd9e6fb27cf6d85d19f0fe01c7973
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describe
'38968' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNER' 'sip-files00137.QC.jpg'
c1ff49e1990f5d973927c2928f87349f
833c5e59b3e5c6d3a352c64a3dbd848d9a81f066
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNES' 'sip-files00137.tif'
1f33853b0b99ba0928b6da8955d8626c
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describe
'1455' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNET' 'sip-files00137.txt'
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describe
'9834' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEU' 'sip-files00137thm.jpg'
db5a8f74141c1e6e34b51bf859a061e5
e0e5b607a25b90029d8e930ddb3076fbb78ea90f
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEV' 'sip-files00138.jp2'
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describe
'122295' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEW' 'sip-files00138.jpg'
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describe
'37970' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEX' 'sip-files00138.pro'
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describe
'38140' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEY' 'sip-files00138.QC.jpg'
e91e5987ead28f2c52ddbdeb64a8c29a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNEZ' 'sip-files00138.tif'
bfbd3201e0b875bfc599840c6d6ffd9d
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFA' 'sip-files00138.txt'
cf3e9cb0f2f4d5c005bc59f0f83f1764
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describe
'8989' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFB' 'sip-files00138thm.jpg'
747151467007d17e5347574cec03c43b
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFC' 'sip-files00139.jp2'
db3dfeb41a3486a96594b41e5f64e372
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describe
'123618' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFD' 'sip-files00139.jpg'
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describe
'37623' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFE' 'sip-files00139.pro'
948a7cd7d429dea65bb6d472adfc0831
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describe
'38327' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFF' 'sip-files00139.QC.jpg'
3208d0795973602b2842e9a7e48fdec1
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFG' 'sip-files00139.tif'
da8e7b35ab30bf1ae04dddf2001d0240
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describe
'1491' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFH' 'sip-files00139.txt'
059cb41070c7ef1e7f8c9fbc80d030b1
a5c1b270c8d51e03a254e81f0be6fd8b898f7c48
describe
'9403' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFI' 'sip-files00139thm.jpg'
a24aa41dce8578de2696db0bd98bec39
b0f13a5556d8f97557e51ea3e86d28b47c8f0d98
describe
'369966' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFJ' 'sip-files00140.jp2'
0286d9e5c8fe650bd76454759974d1b4
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describe
'132482' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFK' 'sip-files00140.jpg'
e7b2fe452e4841260752aa37306f2c17
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describe
'40201' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFL' 'sip-files00140.pro'
adcaecfb36941ec9cb29de248c2d2107
487babbc9e49c41e06da5d57f7107194c03c42d2
'2011-12-29T04:29:42-05:00'
describe
'40727' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFM' 'sip-files00140.QC.jpg'
96de81e8db427141b83ecf623996d75c
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFN' 'sip-files00140.tif'
e5f3c9ff56472be4c53cdfff48f2462c
d7ff81b77cb19260738a10ea691806b016cc808e
'2011-12-29T04:28:53-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFO' 'sip-files00140.txt'
da9042fa8a4ae1861ea136317f5c4060
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describe
'9756' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFP' 'sip-files00140thm.jpg'
1e90a621a1c91e97b1275caf4bf375fe
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describe
'369967' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFQ' 'sip-files00141.jp2'
576dc5548ea2d3ab72b3ef1f0da01db8
c41de6453cedc6178530f377257139aa6fa4c951
describe
'130213' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFR' 'sip-files00141.jpg'
2f8054ba3279ff642dc6b5cc760d0422
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describe
'38689' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFS' 'sip-files00141.pro'
8a9c1a32cd415d82562160203c9ee63c
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describe
'41245' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFT' 'sip-files00141.QC.jpg'
19917459887a337fdba8467ea900971a
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFU' 'sip-files00141.tif'
9b039b738ad16eb88fc08a47247f7b41
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describe
'1535' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFV' 'sip-files00141.txt'
8f15e9dca33f426343803da77876f27d
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describe
'9570' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFW' 'sip-files00141thm.jpg'
d448cfac3d9e4f1c863682430a4f2f26
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describe
'369985' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFX' 'sip-files00142.jp2'
a75242b71adcff309d58571289a21f0e
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describe
'121361' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFY' 'sip-files00142.jpg'
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describe
'35644' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNFZ' 'sip-files00142.pro'
80742805b7405e4d2102e7d1c7b1a56e
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describe
'38644' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGA' 'sip-files00142.QC.jpg'
4af637dbd6872f62094442fc3c31bcdb
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGB' 'sip-files00142.tif'
c14a0eae29e5c637d501019bea4ae4bf
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGC' 'sip-files00142.txt'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGD' 'sip-files00142thm.jpg'
ea8a5fdc9318e3358b580e3df77e4834
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describe
'370258' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGE' 'sip-files00143.jp2'
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describe
'127476' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGF' 'sip-files00143.jpg'
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describe
'35659' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGG' 'sip-files00143.pro'
3716b2da64ffc87ce6fcb1b96364e6f8
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGH' 'sip-files00143.QC.jpg'
af3d8210b398fcfef5249a77a932437e
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGI' 'sip-files00143.tif'
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describe
'1424' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGJ' 'sip-files00143.txt'
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describe
'9425' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGK' 'sip-files00143thm.jpg'
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describe
'370251' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGL' 'sip-files00144.jp2'
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describe
'133006' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGM' 'sip-files00144.jpg'
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describe
'39922' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGN' 'sip-files00144.pro'
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describe
'41853' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGO' 'sip-files00144.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGP' 'sip-files00144.tif'
1bf485dad5a5965f24eda8c40031bf3f
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describe
'1567' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGQ' 'sip-files00144.txt'
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describe
'9945' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGR' 'sip-files00144thm.jpg'
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describe
'399671' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGS' 'sip-files00145.jp2'
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describe
'45279' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGT' 'sip-files00145.jpg'
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describe
'1760' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGU' 'sip-files00145.pro'
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describe
'11566' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGV' 'sip-files00145.QC.jpg'
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describe
'3214448' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGW' 'sip-files00145.tif'
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describe
'108' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGX' 'sip-files00145.txt'
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describe
Invalid character
'3312' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGY' 'sip-files00145thm.jpg'
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describe
'277693' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNGZ' 'sip-files00146.jp2'
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describe
'9941' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHA' 'sip-files00146.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHB' 'sip-files00146.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHC' 'sip-files00146.tif'
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describe
'968' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHD' 'sip-files00146thm.jpg'
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describe
'369905' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHE' 'sip-files00147.jp2'
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describe
'114985' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHF' 'sip-files00147.jpg'
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describe
'32799' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHG' 'sip-files00147.pro'
20652c4e651cd0dbb6018415ddf8e3e0
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describe
'35776' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHH' 'sip-files00147.QC.jpg'
ad62a3c10ad880ba2dd2cf9a8e68f7ab
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHI' 'sip-files00147.tif'
1c4fe694141d202cfd85dd00c63a8fb6
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHJ' 'sip-files00147.txt'
a3b3dddf98edcf7137d61271d6cb606b
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describe
'9244' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHK' 'sip-files00147thm.jpg'
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describe
'369995' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHL' 'sip-files00148.jp2'
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describe
'84289' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHM' 'sip-files00148.jpg'
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describe
'19344' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHN' 'sip-files00148.pro'
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describe
'24156' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHO' 'sip-files00148.QC.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHP' 'sip-files00148.tif'
d5f69842c990b77caed74b5741f58a7f
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describe
'776' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHQ' 'sip-files00148.txt'
a319ab8c39999e3deb33d4bc2058a784
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describe
'5885' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHR' 'sip-files00148thm.jpg'
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHS' 'sip-files00149.jp2'
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describe
'105574' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHT' 'sip-files00149.jpg'
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describe
'26188' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHU' 'sip-files00149.pro'
e5d91daad9d0901f530b7bd1c1dfdc3d
1035f3657b72a31fa0c4cfd1e1626a45fd3bfbd6
describe
'30380' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHV' 'sip-files00149.QC.jpg'
f442708cf2b1d0906a850dcc1ee9f743
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describe
'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHW' 'sip-files00149.tif'
6ed9ce8d5363093af558117d4b965a8e
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describe
'1105' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHX' 'sip-files00149.txt'
f86e789127330a347bbb5e76040d6b01
bebca3e2621637fbbd95a128ee7b9308ad674b25
'2011-12-29T04:29:06-05:00'
describe
'6959' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHY' 'sip-files00149thm.jpg'
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describe
'370093' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNHZ' 'sip-files00150.jp2'
0f076139ec325516c70a0f57d0875e63
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describe
'130822' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNIA' 'sip-files00150.jpg'
c3cccc1099d766289fefa60419e920c0
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describe
'37394' 'info:fdaE20090114_AAAAKYfileF20090115_AABNIB' 'sip-files00150.pro'
e6867022ab5dafd1775b805e30b5e401
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The Baldwin Library

RnB |


een Nata
Wiidhrus (i8
HERO-CHUMS
THE YOUNG OF HEART SERIES

ILLUSTRATED
1. Hero-Chums. ... By Will Allen Dromgoole
2. The Pineboro Quartette . By Willis Boyd Allen

3. One Thousand Men for a Christmas Present,
‘ By Mary A. Sheldon

4. Daddy Darwin’s Dovecote . By Juliana H. Ewing
5. Rare Old Chums . 5 By Will Allen Dromgoole
6. The Drums of the Fore and Aft, ~
By Rudyard Kipling
7. The Strange Adventures of Billy Trill,
By Harriet A. Cheever
8. A Boy’s Battle .. By Will Allen Dromgoole

9. The Man Without a Country,
By Edward Everett Hale

10. Editha’s Burglar. . By Frances Hodgson Burnett
11. Jess . 0 ‘ : : : 5 By J. M. Barrie
12. Little Rosebud . e . By Beatrice Harraden
















Special Cover Design on each Volume

Each, Thin 12mo. Cloth. 50 Cents



DANA ESTES & CO., Publishers, Boston




Es

“TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS.”
HERO-CHUMs5

BY
WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE

AUTHOR oF ‘‘ THE HEART OF OLD Hicxkory,”’
“THe VALLEY PATH,’’ Erc,

ILLUSTRATED



BOSTON

DANA ESTES & COMPANY.
PUBLISHERS ie
Copyright, 1898
By EstTEs AND LAURIAT

Colonial Wress :
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U.S.A.
CONTENTS.



CHAPTER. : PAGE
I. Two Dear Oxp FRIENDS 5 ; . wlll

II. ConFIDENTIAL . : ; 3 ; ‘i eo
II. Oxrp Nan anv Aa Contract . : : - 48
IV. A Mite-post DINNER : : ; : . 69
V. Tue Otp Lover. , : - Oe
VI. Srcrets . b : . 5 0 - 95
VII. THe CHATTANOOGA BELLE . : ; - 106
VIII. Sarre in THE ARMs. é , _ ; . 126

IX. A Hero AaFrer Curist . é : 6 - 148
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
“Two Drar Op FRIENDS” A . . Frontispiece
«“¢Hetio, LirrLhe Man, ArEn’t You A Suip or Lost
SUNSHINE?’” . ; : 3 ; ; en.
«¢Tr You PLease, Sir, THE YounG Master SENT
You Tuis’” zs B ¥ . z 5 se 89
«“¢Loox, Ou, Loox, Mr. Brewer!’” A 5 123

“ He WaAveEpD THE Tiny Rac To SomE ONE Upon THE

Bank” H ‘ : a 3 : - 139
HERO-CHUMS.



CHAPTER I.
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS.

HE village lay in a straight line with the river,
with something like a quarter of a mile stretch
of lowland between it and the stream. What stream ?
One of the most majestic, and having its very first
impetus somewhere among the old Virginian moun-
tains. Numberless rivulets, that leap from crag
to gorge, come dashing down, pell-mell, until with a
gurgling jubilance the noisy currents meet; kiss kin-
ship in one grand, majestic unity, which flows tran-
quilly enough for a time, then, plunging southward,
takes a sudden dip into Alabama, twisting itself into
the wonderful “ Big Bend” which, in the beautiful
Indian vernacular, is the Tennessee.

It soon tires of Alabama, however, and turns north-
ward, through Western Tennessee ; cutting, draining,
enriching as it goes, blending at last, and losing itself
with the Ohio.

The village lying back beyond the river doesn’t
il
12 HERO-CHUMS.

appear upon the map under its old name of Slipup.
The capitalists have taken hold upon it long ago,
attracted by the ironclad hills that surround it, and
have dignified it by a nobler name and more preten-
tious.

But our story has to do with Slipup, the noisy
little iron town on the west bank of the Tennessee.

It has always been 4 pretty village, despite the
name, the fog that sometimes comes up from the
river, the smoke from the furnaces, and the red dust
from the iron, and the ever-passing zebra stripes of the
prison gang, brought down from the neighbouring
stockades when the work is heavy. It is a pretty
site; so nature gave the deed to its first attraction.
And then the capitalists built well. The row of cot-
tages, set back upon the rise above the stretch of low-
land, are English, and built with an eye to beauty,
when the cry of iron in the South first began to raise
commotion, and breed schemes, golden plans, in the
brains of shrewd speculators.

The company worked slowly, scarcely presuming,
in its modest beginning, to give itself a name. The
miners, however, knew it as the “'T. I. 0.’ — mean-
ing the Tennessee Iron Company. It worked steadily,
however; ere long, it bought up the hills around, and
the valley between. It girdled the valley anon with
an iron track, after it had erected furnaces and leased
from the State her convicts, with whom they opened
up the mines, both coal and iron, and loaded the
boats, before the railroad came, with pig-iron for the
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 13

distant markets. They retained the convicts until
the village was well “settled up,” and could furnish
its own “ hands,” and the “ zebras” were withdrawn at
the “request” of the citizens occupying the long line
of English cottages, and the demand of the free min-
ers occupying the shacks in the lowland, on the oppo-
site bank of the river.

The river was the division line between the two
classes, — this was not so much a matter of society
as a matter of choice, in that each representation
wished a view of the river, the business thoroughfare
of the town in its early day. There were boats run-
ning from Chattanooga above, to the Muscle Shoals
below; and the miners’ wives were as fond of see-
ing the little. vessels go by as were the wives of
the more fortunate Englishmen in the white cot-
tages on the other bank. It was the only reminder
they had, poor souls, of the great world stretching
away beyond the river and the hot, noisy furnace,
the clatter of the slag-carts, and the everlasting rush
of iron into the sand gullies. There was a restful
pleasure in the very sight of the easy-gliding vessels.
They clustered about the doors of their huts, their
children clinging to their skirts, their hands shading
their eyes from the sun, and forgot both smoke and
noise while the boats were passing. The boatmen sel-
dom looked their way, however, —the white cottages
on the other side took their eye. If a salute was
given, or a handkerchief waved, they knew it was not
for them, but for the English wives on the other side.
14 HERO-CHUMS.

For the superintendent’s wife, most probably, for there
was always some one upon the top stone step when
the boats went by, and a signal never failed to flutter
in the air, above-a little golden head, when the boats
passed before the ‘company’s house” where the
superintendent lived, —the very handsomest of Eng-
lish houses, with the very handsomest of mistresses.
The boatmen knew all about it; even the hands upon
the flatboats, the dusty folk upon the coal-barges,
never forgot. to look for the signal upon the top step,
and to “ wave back” to the owner of the golden head
when they passed before the company’s house.

The miners’ wives made it a matter for complaint
at first, when they saw the white linen, or the purple
velvet jacket, as the weather might demand, on the
superintendent’s doorstep. And they spoke of the
child as the “little master’? who was “too clean to
go among common folk,” or “too grand to run with
the children of the furnace hands.”

But when at last they understood that the little
linen-clad limbs were supported by a tiny crutch, and
that the little feet would rejoice, oh, so gladly, to
“run” with other little feet, their bitterness gave place
to sympathy, and they kissed their own strong, brown
babies, and bade them peep at the window and see if
“Master John” had heard the Rapidan’s whistle.
And then they would wipe their eyes upon their
aprons, so that they also might see the golden head
like a ball of bright sunshine on the doorstep. He
wayed to them, too, sometimes, with his handkerchief,
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 16

or else with his cap when the boats had passed. They
liked him to wave the cap, because it left the yellow
curls bare and the ball of sunshine was more distinct.

He seldom got nearer the river, however, than the
low iron gate of the company’s house, unless Old
Despair carried him down to “the works,” as he did

“almost every Saturday afternoon, to see the flatboats
loading with pig-iron for the market. But it was the
steamboats he liked best; he was acquainted with
their captains and knew the several whistles before
he saw the vessels themselves. He would waken in
the night with a start, when a sharp, shrill note would
announce the approach of the river travellers, and call
to his father asleep in the big bed near his own white
cot, where “ Susan chucked him, and mother tucked
him ” in for the night.

“Father, that’s the Rapidan’s toot, isn’t it?” he
would call. “Father? I say, isn’t that the Rapidan’s
toot?”

“Yes,” the reply had as well come first as last,
“that is the Rapidan, I think. Go to sleep now,
John.”

“ All right, sir; as soon as the Red Cloud goes by.
She follows the Rapidan sometimes. I'll wait awhile
for her. But you needn’t wait for me, father. Tl
come as soon as the Red goes by.”

As if, indeed, sweet child heart, sleep were but a
care-free following one’s dear ones into dreamland.

Slipup boasted but one street in those first days of
its existence, The little paths, back of the dwellings,
16 HERO-CHUMS.

leading to the blacksmith’s shop or the shoemaker’s
shanty, were not regarded as streets any more than
was the big wagon-road running from the company’s
office to the landing further down, where the boats
were loaded, and later, where the dump-carts dumped
the slag into the empty barges, which carried it off to
fill the beds of the railroads that were beginning
to cross into a kind of network about the little town
of Chattanooga, further up the Tennessee. The paths
to the miners’ homes were “ walks;” the village ex-
isted, in the public mind, in the row of English houses
and the river. ven the schoolhouse which she voted
herself was a failure — together with the school — un-
til by a second vote it was removed to a site, if not so
elevated, one at all events commanding a view of the
river; the vox populi declaring “the children could
know nothing of the world with the schoolhouse set
back clean out of town.”

So it was set nearer, too dangerously near the brown
bank, some thought, and soberly shook their heads.
These were miners for the most part, who had come
up from the mines to assist in moving the house, and
were well acquainted with the tricks and treachery of
the yellow current swashing its brown banks under
the windows of the jaunty little schoolhouse perched
like a white bird, just above the latest “high-water
mark.”

But the Slipup folk were river folk, or thought they
were, and they laughed heartily at the idea of the
Tennessee taking any such aspiring leap.
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 17

«And if it should,’ they argued, “the children
know the way home, and it is always daylight when
school keeps.”

So the miners went back to their underground cells,
all but one; old Beverly Brewer, the ex-convict, still
hung around the schoolhouse with the village people,
who were still laughing at the warning against the
evil attendant upon “running in the face of Provi-
dence.”

He was “ not a man to talk,” the mining people said
of Brewer. And they whispered to each other that he
was “cracked,” “trouble-crazed, like old Nan, the
watcher,” only, they said, “not quite so bad.” He
had said a good deal more than was his habit against
the removal of the schoolhouse, and even after it was
done it seemed impossible for him to reconcile himself
to the change. His old face, deep-scarred with care .
and with age, wore a troubled look. His form seemed
even more bent than usual, as if the weight of danger,
if danger there really was, rested upon him alone, and
was hard to bear. He walked around the building
again, sighted the current, glistening between its
banks like a silvery belt; sighted it between his
half-closed fingers, as if to measure well the distances,
then shook his head solemnly, slowly; he knew the
old river, and had cause to shun it. Suddenly he
turned away from contemplating the stream, and
passed through the throng to where the tall form
of the superintendent rose above the little group of
villagers.
18 HERO-CHUMS.

The superintendent was about to move away when
he caught sight of the old miner. He had half a mind
to go on, but suddenly he remembered the little crutch
waiting on the “top step.”

« John would never forgive me,” he told himself,
and, withdrawing from his friends, he advanced to meet
the ex-convict.

“ Good evening, Brewer,’ he called, pleasantly. “I
think John is waiting on the doorstep to hear of the
removal of the house.”

The old miner touched his cap.

“They oughtn’t to ’a’ put it so nigh the water,
cap’n,” said he, using the title common among
miners when addressing an official; “they oughtn’t
to ’a’ put her so nigh the Tennessee. She'll scoop her
in some day, sir; mind what I say.”

The superintendent laughed.

“ You have been predicting evil too long,” said he.
“¢ Let me see, the first time I ever saw you, you were
foretelling our utter destruction when yon river should
rise and sweep the town away. And we are still here,
town, river, prophet, and all.”

“ You have Providence to thank for that, sir,” said
the old miner.

“ Well, then, we will still trust to Providence,” said
the superintendent.

«« And keep a boat handy, cap’n,”’ chuckled the old
man. “TI heard the little one, Master John, sir, talk-
ing about a fellow, one of his ‘ heroes, you know, sir,
that told his men to ‘trust to Providence and keep
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 19

their powder dry.’ ‘ Good advice, sir, for Slipup,’ says
I to Master John; and the same I say to Master John’s
father, sir. Trust to Providence and keep a boat
handy. The old Tennessee is tricky. I knows her.
‘She carried my wife away on her yellow bosom ten
years ago, and one of my boys is lying, sir, this ten
years, somewhere on her bed with the Belle of Chatta-
nooga and her gay young captain. She’s got many a
secret, the old yellow she-tiger. She is the meanest
river in the world, the Tennessee is, — meaner’n the old
Mis’sip’ hitse’f. For the old Mis’sip’ gives a warnin’
—a hiss and a sputter, and a roar that may be heard
for days, tellin’ you to ‘ git out o’ the way!’ But the
Tennessee lays low and sings, and rings, and sighs,
and gurgles, makin’ believe all’s steady, while ever’
stream and gully in the mountains air fillin’ brimful,
until, like a bilin’ pot, they bounds up and plunges into
the Tennessee, and like a flash o’ lightnin’ she’s up
and out on the warpath. Oh, I knows her, Cap’n
Weston. She’ll find Slipup some day, fast asleep in
her green hills.”

The superintendent did not smile this time. Few,
indeed, cared to smile when the old miner and ex-
convict began to tell about the ravages of the Tennes-
see. Mr. Weston knew the story of the old man’s
losses, which, they said, had somewhat unsettled his
reason, and had given to him the name of “ Old De-
spair.’ He knew the story of the pretty little boat,
the Belle of Chattanooga, that had disappeared one
dark night when a storm. swept the turbulent and

2
20 HERO-CHUMS.

overfull river, and had never been heard of since,
neither the boat nor the owner, “the little captain,”
the miners called him, nor Brewer’s son David, who
knew, as everybody else knew, that the captain had
money with him that night. Brewer’s other son had
disappeared the same night, with money, also, — the
company’s money.

Everybody refused to believe that two such similar
evils, occurring at one and the same time, were purely
accidental... Therefore the missing lads had been
branded as thieves, murderers, indeed, for the captain
was never heard of again.

The night recorded other misfortunes as well, as if
minded to set itself in black upon the minds and mem-
ories of men for ever.

The old Lodge mine had an explosion, and more
than one young life had gone out in the terrible fire-
damp supposed to have caused the accident. The
mine had never been opened again; the miners had
refused to work there. They held strange supersti-
tions concerning it.

They regarded it as a sepulchre; for although none
knew who had been caught by the accident, they knew
that — although it occurred during the night— more
than one had failed to come home next morning, al-
though there were wives and mothers waiting. Keep-
ing the breakfast until it was cold, “stone cold as
death,” they said, not knowing how the lads were
cold, too; stone cold as death. So, although nobody
knew positively they were in the mine, they knew
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 21

they did not come back, and that was knowledge
enough for misery.

But the night’s evil fell heavily, most heavily upon
old Beverly Brewer. Along with the other misfor-
tunes it took his good name. The very next week he
was arrested; it was all a circumstantial tangle about
the lost boat, the Belle of Chattanooga, and the missing
owner. And when, five years later, he returned from
prison with some great heroism credited .to his ac-
count, and a pardon in his pocket, to take up his life
again where misfortune interrupted, he was an old
man, gray, weary, and broken-hearted, full of a great
despair.

He went back to the mines, and to a little soot-
blackened shack in the cedars behind the row of Eng-
lish houses; the only soul in the village who had no
wish to live in the view of the river.

The old neighbours shunned him, he appeared so
changed, so silent, and when he took up his solitary
abode away and apart from them, they did not under-
stand that sorrow had pressed too heavily upon the
poor old heart, so that it refused to return to the old
humour of gladder days, making all life sombre and
grim and distrustful under its own black shadow. To
them he was only a returned convict, a half-crazed
creature, “ cracked in the brain,’ whose predictions of
evils made them shiver at times, at times laugh. They
spoke of him as “Old Despair,” and when the wind
blew, would mockingly ask him “if it would blow a
cyclone.” When it was hot they called it “Old De-
22 HERO- CHUMS.

spair’s drought,” and if it rained they would call to him
to know “if he was building his ark.” Others would
tap their foreheads when he passed and say “ crazy,”
or else “ Old Despair,” until the children caught the
words, and spoke of him in frightened whispers, or
ran away when they saw his bent figure coming down
the street.

All but one,— truly no man is so desolate he has
not one friend, and Old Despair had his. Between
him and this friend existed that strange, strong, and
rare affection which we sometimes have seen spring
up between youth and old age, and which exists no-
where else with such intensity and devotion. The
convict’s friend was a child; the little fair-haired son
of the superintendent, who leaned upon his crutch to
signal the passing boats or lay awake at nights to lis-
ten for the Red Cloud and Rapidan.

Perhaps it was of the boy the superintendent was
thinking when he said, in a half conscious way, after
the man’s outburst against the schoolhouse:

“ Well, well, we have much besides our personal
safety for which to thank Providence, you and I.”

The old man started angrily.

“Yes,” said he, “ hain’t I got a sight to be thankful
for? erly Brewer ain’t a rich superintendent of a richer
mining company, with the prettiest home in the vil-
lage, and a wife and son to live in it. You forget,
sir, my boys are lost, lost, — above ground or under
it, all the same they are lost. And you forget the
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 23

prison, and the long, black stain to my name. A
blamed sight to be thankful for! Good day, sir; or
rather, good night, for the sun’ll soon be goin” And
would you please to fetch this to the little master, sir,
and to tell him the wheelbarrer him and me air makin’
will be ready soon for me to come and fetch him over
to my shanty and to trundle him home in the new car-
riage, sir? Please present my respects to Master
- John, sir.”

He placed in the superintendent’s hand a boat, a
miniature toy of sweet red cedar curiously and exquis-
itely carved, with the name, “The John Weston,” in
bold relief upon the bow. A dainty and perfect piece
of work, betraying both the artistic eye and the skil-
ful hand.

The superintendent’s cold eye took in the careful
- workmanship at a single glance, and flashed a sudden
pleasure.

«“ What an exquisite design,” he said, touching with
his white, scholarly fingers the carving where the
knife had let in a white grain of the wood here and
there, among the rich, dark colours. ‘ Why, Brewer,
you are an artist; this is worth —”

“The little master will understand, sir,’ inter-
rupted the old man. “ He is lookin’ for his boat in
to-night, Master John is. And now good-bye, sir, and I
thank Providence for the privilege of saying it, seeing
as I can’t for the life of me think of anything else for
which to thank.”

He turned away, the hard look of despair again
clouding his face. ;
24 HERO-CHUMS.

The superintendent placed his hand upon his arm
to detain him still a moment. The others had moved
off ; they stood almost alone.

“Don’t talk so;” the words were almost pleading.
“You have something to be thankful for, unless you
esteem it as nothing. My boy,” and the proud face
grew tender, “ loves you devotedly ; next to his mother
and me, I verily believe, and a pure child’s heart is
always worth thanking the Lord for, even if life be
otherwise barren. Remember that, and be grateful,
and I say again, thank Providence.”

“J will thank him when the Belle of Chattanoogy
gits in, sir, with my lost character; until then —”

“ Until then you must be‘ Old Despair, I suppose,”
said the superintendent, with a low laugh that showed
more vexation than mirth, as he turned away and
walked down the street, followed by Brewer, who
paused when he saw him ascend the stone steps
and open the little iron gate, then disappear in the
pretty cottage proudly denominated the “company’s
house.”

The old despair left his face almost entirely while
he stood there watching the square pane of frosted
glass which made the panel of the superintendent’s
front door. Indeed, a smile touched the corners of
his mouth, ever so faintly, and the faded old eyes
twinkled as jubilantly as if, defying bolt and panel, they
saw precisely what was going on within the pretty cot-
tage, and knew the identical moment when the little
red boat swung tantalisingly before a pair of earnest
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 25

blue eyes, with a command to “ guess who sent it.”
And the old ears caught, if the smile spoke truly, the
ringing and immediate response:

“My chum; my old friend Brewer sent it,. of
course.”

Then, if he really could see and hear what was go-
ing on in the company’s house, he must have heard the
superintendent tell his wife that “Old Despair was
on the prophet’s stool again.”

Then, too, he must have heard a commotion in the
room, the sound of a little crutch, muffled by soft car-
pets, the opening of a door carefully, the crutch again,
along the hall, muffled still by the carpet, then the
opening of the big front door, and then, —he truly
had a glimpse of Susan, the yellow nurse, who with-
drew the bolt, and then the little crutch clicked
upon the great stone steps, as a little figure in short,
white trousers, black stockings, and dainty slippers,
and the whitest of linen waists, came carefully down
the steps as fast as the poor little left limb and the
twisted foot would allow. The golden curls fell
about the tiny shoulders under the little straw cap.
And the little form leaned heavily upon the tiny
crutch. But there was nothing but joy in the voice
that was calling to the old convict.

“Oh, Mr. Brewer! Wait for me, sir. It’s me, sir,
your friend, John. Please wait. The crutch — won’t
— go — faster.”

As if the old fellow had not been standing stock-
still, waiting for that very figure and those identical
26 HERO-CHUMS.

words since the moment the front-door closed upon
the superintendent.

With the appearance of the young master the old
man’s interest in the company’s house evidently
ceased, for he busied his brain no longer with what
might be going on there. Had he done so, he might
have-guessed how the parents, hearing the door close,
glanced through the open window to see the white
linen run into the arms of the iron-digger. He might
have suspected the mother’s sigh for the fresh linen,
and the smile on her lip, deriding the tear in her eye,
when the linen was swung up to the old miner’s shoul-
der, as if she guessed the directions the little master
was giving:

“To a seat next your left ear, if you please.”

Yes, the two in the cottage watched the young-old
friends, — the golden head bent to the grizzled, a tiny
arm clasping a neck that had felt a harder yoke, two
small hands held fast in a safe, strong palm, while the
wee crutch was carried in the other, as carefully and
as sacredly as the owner of the pathetic little support
himself.

But they could not hear the conversation; they ~
only guessed that it concerned the little cedar boat
left upon the centre-table while its owner went to
meet the boat-maker.

« Are you glad to see me, dear old friend?” said
John, when he was satisfactorily seated beside “the
left ear.”

“ Mighty glad, Master Johnny —”
TWO DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 27

“ John, if you please, sir, just plain John. I never
heard of a hero named Johnny. Although Mr. Mil-
ton, a poet, and Mr. Bunyan, and Mr. Adams, the
president, not the first man, were all called John.
Now trot away, old horsey; buckaty! buck! You
know what mother says: ‘ When the sun tips the rim
of Wallen’s Ridge, you must come home, John.’ And
it is tipping this very minute. So you had better trot
away, old horsey.. Buckaty! Buckaty!”

And the two at the window, not hearing one word,
’ but understanding thoroughly, smiled when the “ old
horsey” and its jaunty rider passed gaily down street
and out of sight.

The mother’s eyes were full of tears when the su-
perintendent passed his arm around her and drew her
head upon his shoulder.

“Leave them alone, little mother,’ he said. “No
child’s life has ever been in vain. And God, I think,
gives special sweetness to his crippled ones. At least
it has been so with ours, and I believe the little fellow
is destined to play a peculiar part in the life of that
old unfortunate. No two hearts were ever bound to-
gether like those two without God’s hand somewhere
among the cords. Leave them alone and see what
God is doing.”

The sun was ready to drop behind the mountain
when they heard the little crutch upon the step again.
They could hear his parting :

“ Good-bye, old chum. We are old friends, are we
not, Mr. Brewer ?”
28 HERO-CHUMS.

And the reply:

«The very oldest, Master John, and the very best.”

They heard, but they did not understand all that
had transpired in the old miner’s shack since the two
old friends had been gone.
CHAPTER II.
CONFIDENTIAL.

HEY were odd, but strangely congenial friends,
the ex-convict and the rich superintendent’s
son.

One so old and care-burdened, and bearing his mis-
fortunes with such rebellious bitterness; fretting
against the yoke, railing at fate, and aweary of the
world itself. The other so young, so delicately fair,
so childishly gentle, and full of that exquisite faith
that has its habitation only in the heart of a child.
Bearing his misfortune, too, with a patience and sweet-
ness which made him inexpressibly dear to the hearts
of his worshipping parents. The grimmest old miner
turned to catch another glimpse of the curly head as
it passed down the iron-dusted street, just above
Brewer’s grizzled locks. And the old wives, seeing
the two friends, smiled, and said:

“There goes old soot-black and lily-white.”

But the friends themselves were blissfully uncon-
scious of observation or of criticism. John was
anxiously watching the sun, creeping nearer and
nearer the ridge.

« Hurry up,” he said, “I am going home with you

29
30 HERO-CHUMS.

to see the wheelbarrow you are making. I waited a
long time on the top step, you know, because I can
see plumb clear to the mine from there. Susan
says ‘plumb clear, and I think it is a nice word,
though I don’t remember that any of the heroes said
it, unless it was Andrew Jackson. I don’t quite say he
did, but I think he might have. He said some very
strong words, I know, and I think he said ‘plumb
clear. Anyhow, it was either him or Susan, I plumb
clear forget which. There! I see the shack, and there’s
smoke coming out of the funny little chimney. That
makes me think of roasted chestnuts, or potatoes
roasted with their jackets on. Do hurry! Oh, I do
just love a nice shack, with the smoke and the stick
chimney, and the creaky door, and the plank floor
that goes whackety-whack whenever you put your foot
down on it. And when I get to be a man, a rich
man, I am going to live in one, and roast potatoes and
be a hero like Napoleon and Henry Clay, and you, my
old chum.”

“Umph!” said the old man; but the grunt was
lost in the “ whackety-whack ”* of the planks as the
“ old horsey ” stepped upon the little platform before
the shack door and began to “nose around” under
the loose planks for his key.

“ Hurry up,” said John, who had been safely depos-
ited upon the yellow poplar boards until the door
should be opened. “Hurry up, sir; the sun is just
skipdaddling around to the tip mark. Here we are,
and if I don’t smell baked apples sprinkled with brown
CONFIDENTIAL. 31

sugar, my name isn’t John Weston, junior, ‘ chip off
the old block, as Mr. Baldwyn says. Hand me my
crutch, my old friend. Thank you, sir, and oh, —”

He had skipped half-way across the room, with
that plaintive nimbleness that comes to those in whose
wee hands misfortune places the crutch early ; a mo-
tion resembling more that of a crippled sparrow than
of a human being. He leaned upon his crutch with
both hands folded, a kind of ecstatic delight in the
very position, while his eyes danced joyously as he con-
templated the slow fire in the large, open fireplace,
and the juicy apples roasting upon the rude hearth.

For a moment neither spoke. The old man was
watching his young guest, while the child had forgot-
ten everything but the scene before him.

Suddenly he turned, and, with a gesture not unwor-
thy either of the great men whose names and deeds
he was so fond of quoting, said, in a voice of com-
mand :

“ Bring out the mats,” and when the order was
being executed, “ Now,” he continued, “we will be
confidential.”

He had been there so often before, was so entirely
at home with the lonely old man,—who added so
much to the little life hampered by affliction, that his .
parents did not have the heart to interfere with the
strange friendship, knowing that crippled feet are not
often like to go astray, whatever be the association, —
that he waited for his mat, a rude shuck seat made
for especial use, and then seating himself comfortably
82 HERO-CHUMS.

upon it before the fire, his crutch lying beside him,
together with his cap, motioned to the old man to fol-
low his example. He no more thought of refusing an
order than did the soldiers an order of Napoleon’s.

The child smiled, and brushed the bright curls
back from his face.

“ Now, Mr. Brewer,” he said, “this is confidential,
isn’t it?”

“ Which ?”

“ Confidential; that means close together, I guess.
T saw father talking confidential with Mr. Baldwyn,
the president of the coal and iron company, last night.
And they sat close together, — very close, like we are
sitting, — only, father’s hand was on Mr. Baldwyn’s
knee. May I put my hand on your knee, Mr.
Brewer? We’re such old friends, you know. Thank
you, sir; it feels more confidential, and I have some-
thing to ask you, Mr. Brewer, that is confidential, too.
Father was reading from the hero books last night
and made me think of it. You know what the hero
books are, don’t you, Mr. Brewer ?”

“ Can’t say as I do, precisely, Master Johnny.”

“ Just John, if you please, sir, plain John. Well, the
hero books, my old friend, are the books about An-
drew Jackson and Oliver Cromwell and Napoleon and
all those. Father reads about them to me every
night before mother sings ‘Safe in the Arms.’ And
then I choose my heroes. I have lots of heroes, Mr.
Brewer, oh, so many ; most a world full. Td like to
be a hero, too, some day, but I reckon I can’t, because
CONFIDENTIAL. 33

of the crutch, though mother says I can; not a hero
like Napoleon, but a character hero. Napoleon was a
war hero. Father read out of the books last night,
and it made me think of something. So I asked
mother to keep back ‘Safe in the Arms’ a minute,
till I could think. And I thought—TI reckon you
couldn’t guess what I thought, could you?”

The old man hesitated, tapped his forehead with
his finger, and said:

«“ Let me see now, — you didn’t think about earth-
quakes, surely, I reckin, Master John ?””

“No, sir,” said John. “ Guess again, Mr. Brewer.”

“ Battles, sir? Could it have been about battles
and soldiers?”

John shook his head.

“Try again, my old friend.”

“ Surely, little master,” said the old man in a tone
of great doubt, “it couldn’t, ’m p’intedly sure it
couldn’t ’a’ been 0’? me as you were a-thinkin’.”

“Oh, but it was,’ shouted John, his blue eyes
sparkling with delighted surprise. “It was of your
very own self I was thinking while father read the
hero books. And it is about that very thing I want to
talk to you this very minute. But first, sir, I want
to ask you if we are not very, very confidential friends,
you and I?”

“ Mighty close friends, sir.”

The little white hand, with a slender golden circlet
upon one of the baby fingers, rested trustfully upon
the knee of the “close” old friend. Now and then
84 HERO -CHUMS.

the miner’s hard palm passed tenderly over the
delicate fingers, every stroke a caress. For a mo-
ment both were silent. It was John who broke the
silence.

“ My friend,” he said, “if my apple is done, and
I think it is, for the sizz has all run out on the
hearth, I’d like to eat it off your wife’s blue china
saucer, — the ‘only one left, you know. And I wish
you would crack the door a little, so that we can see
the sun, for I most know he is slipping up to the tip,
—he always does when I am here. But I forget
unless the door is open, and I can see the black old
mountain outside.”

“Tt is a bit airish outside, little master, at sunset,
even in June-time,” said the miner, “but I’ll keep my
eye on the tip, sir, while we are talking.”

“Get out the blue saucer then, sir,’ said John.
“ We'll have to talk while we eat, for I want to hear
the story of the big storm that ‘black, black night,’
when the freshup took your house away, and ‘the
Belle of Chattanoogy went down, down, down, to the
bottom, like you said, with your son Dave and
the gay little captain. I like to hear about it, — it
truly sounds like stories of the big ships in the hero
books that Lord Nelson commanded. I told father
so, and he said it was only a little pleasure-boat; but
he said pleasure-boats could have their heroes as well
as ironclads. And coal-barges and flatboats, too, for
that matter. So if you will please to begin, my old
friend, for I am truly very un-un-easy about that sun.
CONFIDENTIAL. 35

Will you keep your eye on the tip mark? I promised
mother, sir.”

The old miner lifted the blue china saucer, the one
beloved relic of his. old home, from the tall mantel-
shelf, and placing the largest of the roasted apples
upon it, proceeded to wait upon his young guest, who
was sitting cross-legeed, like a Turk, upon his shuck
mat. The second apple was set aside.

“Keep it for my supper,” the host explained ;
“and while you are eatin’ of yours I'll whole up
the wheelbarrer.”’

“That will be real nice,’ said John, “ but first, if
you please, won’t you punch up the gold dollars ?
I do so enjoy hearing them go crackling up the black
chimney. There’s the poker, sir, right under your
foot. Oh, but that’s magnificent, sir! And there!
That’s more magnificenter than ever.”

The childish face shone with delight while the
long poker, in the strong hands of the coal-digger,
played among the bright logs, sending the fiery
sparks crackling up the chimney.

“That will do, and thank you, sir,’ said John.
“Now draw up your wheelbarrow work and take
a seat on your mat. We’re going to converge about
the old Belle of Chattanoogy. Will it disturb you if
I put my hand on your knee sometimes while you’re
talking? Tl only put it between bites, and it will
mean to say I understand you, without incorrupting
you. Do you mind?”

“Not a bit, sir; not a bit. It will help to keep
36 HERO-CHUMS.

the old man awake, sir.
tolerable sleepy sometimes.”

“That it will, sir. Most every night, or nearly
most every night, when I’m lying on the white bear
— that’s the rug — listening to father read from the
hero books, just most knowing l’m going to stay
awake, anyhow till mother sings ‘Safe in the Arms,’
and first thing I know I’m in my little brass bed,
with Susan waking me up to get up, and it’s day and
father’s finished reading; and then I just know the
fire did it. It’s very odd, sir.”

“Mighty quare,” declared the old man, soberly;
“mighty quare. Anybody in the books do that way?”

John dropped his chin, thoughtfully.

“Vm not quite certain,’ he said, “but there is
a picture of Sir Isaac Newton, a perlosopher hero,
sitting before his fire, and I think, I’m most sure
—father says we’re never quite sure of anything
in this world, ’cepting taxes —but I’m most sure
Sir Isaac is nodding. Now, Mr. Brewer, before the
sun gets to the tip, please tell me about the boys.
T’m most fonder of them than anything, I expect;
unless it’s father and mother, and the wheelbarrow,
and the heroes, and you, sir. Begin at the time when
‘Dave was a rafterman and went with his friend,
Captain Morton, up to Bridgeport, on the poor little
Belle of Chattanoogy, and Dick worked in the old
Lodge mine as boss.’ It’s awful interestin’ and —
sorryful; more sorryfuller every time I hear it, sir,”

The old miner’s brow was knitted.
CONFIDENTIAL. 387

“Don’t call that little water-devil the ‘ poor little
Belle,” said he. “She was just full o’ evil, — fetched
bad luck every blessed time she set out on a trip.
But the boys loved her; Dave set a sight o’ store by
the little concern.”

The old face softened ; he was fond of talking about
his brave young sons; talking about them seemed to
keep them near him, somehow, and this little child-
friend was the only listener he ever had. ‘True, he
was entirely satisfactory ; the old man, indeed, often
told himself that he had “talked to a sight worse
company,” — meaning the nights when, alone in the
shack, he had rehearsed the story of his wrongs to
himself, always consoling himself with the reflection
that the boys would never have left him to bear the
burden of their unexplained absence, except the earth
held them prisoners. They were surely dead; he felt
it. Yet he felt, too, that, dead or alive, they would
return at last, sometime, somehow, to set their old
father’s name right before the world. He never ex-
pressed this hope, however, except to the child, and
upon him he always imposed a promise of strictest
secrecy.

“ Confidential, Master John,’ he began, as usual,
and, as usual, came the response:

“ Confidential, dear old chum.”

The little hand with its wee gold ring slipped to
the old man’s knee again, meaning confidence and
sympathy, and then the old story of man’s misfortune
and fate’s mysterious rulings was told again.
38 HERO-CHUMS.

“ Well, Master John,” said the ex-convict, “we had
a cabin, Mary and me, up the river a piece towards
Inman. We had two boys, — big, healthy boys, and as
good ones as ever lived. Five graves in the woods
back o’ the cabin told where the other children were,
all of them, until a little gal baby come to stay; just
eighteen years after Dave. We-uns was pow’ful glad
to see her, Master John, pow’ful glad.

“ Dave was a river chap, — took to the water like a
fish, — just couldn’t keep ’way from it, nohow. He
made rafts and kerried of ’em down to Alabamy till
Cap’n Morton bought the Eureky coal bank, and come
to live long o’ we-uns till he could get a house ready
to fetch his young wife to. Him and Dave took to
one nother like twin brothers. Both was pow’ful
fond o’ the river, too, and used to go off together on
it for days and days. They’d a’most died for one
“nother, them two would. Dave tended the coal-
boats that run to Bridgeport, where the railroad took
charge o° the truck.

“Then the cap’n he bought a little concern, a yacht
they called it, and it certainly wasn’t fitten for such a
tricky old river, Master John, and Dave he was took
off’n the coal-boats, and put to tend the yacht.

“They named her the Belle of Chattanoogy, count 0’
that bein’ the cap’n’s first home, and his wife’s home,
and they both so fond o’ it.

“She was surely built for bad luck, Master John;
she never set out but somethin’ happened. Once a
coal bank caved in, and once the prisoners broke out
CONFIDENTIAL. 389

o’ the stockade over at Inman, and once the miners
struck at the old Lodge mine, and once she sprung a
leak. Allus somethin’. The Belle of Chattanoogy
was just another name for bad luck.

“But the cap’n set a sight o’ store by her. He
lowed he could git up and go home any time he’d a
mind to, without waitin’ for the reg’lar boats or the
flats with the coal and iron.

“So him and Dave kept the little water-devil,
and a’most lived in it, you might say.

“« Dick, my other boy, took to the mines; he was a
born miner, Dick was, and a natural underground en-
gineer. He worked for the cap’n at the Eureky coal
mines till the Lodge mine was opened here, and a
company took hold of it, and put out a sight o’ money
for working it. For the ore was iron, and convenient
to the furnaces, and the Lodge had a good name for
the quality of her ore.

«“ So Dick, he come up here and got a job, ’count 0’
Luke Ford, Cap’n Morton’s head boss. Him and Dick
couldn’t agree, so Dick left, and got hisself made first
boss o’ the Lodge mines instead. *T'was an awfully
responsible place, for the Lodge was known to have
death-damp, and once a gallery collapsed without a
minute’s warning, and this was why she had been
closed up. Dick knew the place by heart, and after
’while he was made inspector.

“ One night, a black, black night, and such a storm
a-ragin’, —I rickollict that night, becase all my nights
since have been of a shade like that one.”
40 HERO-CHUMS.

He paused to sigh, and to caress the little hand
that was laid again upon his knee.

“The cap’n got word,” he continued after awhile,
still stroking the tiny fingers, “that his wife was a
dyin’. Dyin’, and the Tennessee kiverin’ every foot 0’
ground ’twixt here and Bridgeport, wher’ the railroad
passed, and half the woods in the county float’n about
in the bed o’ the river, it seemed to me. I was up at
the cabin with Mary and the little gal when the cap’n
got word o’ his wife’s sickness. The telegraph fetched
it. Him and Dave was workin’ down at the landin’
tryin’ to fasten the coal-barges to somethin’ to keep
’em from float’n clear away, when the cap’n’s news
come. And when I went back to help, the Belle of
Chattanoogy was gone. Up the river in the drift and
danger, with my boy and the young cap’n.

“Dick, he was off somers, too,—to Bridgeport,
they “lowed, —I dunno. I ain’t never knowed nothin’
o’ them since. ‘They went down inter the darkness

‘an’ the silence o’ that orful night. The cap’n an’ his
little shell of a boat went, too, somers, — nobody ever
knowed where. There was some as said my boys
fo’ged the note o’ the cap’n’s wife’s sickness, an’ that
way tolled him off an’ robbed him of a bag o’ gold he
allus kept about him the end o’ the week, to pay off
the hands. But it was a lie. They-was my boys, an’
I reckin I ought to know what metal they was made
of. The man as told that word lied, an’ he’s dead,
too, I reckin, for he drapped out o’ sight long o’ the
balance. They lowed I killed him, and I spent five
CONFIDENTIAL. ea

years in the state prison for that allowin’. I didn’t
do it, though; Td like to ’a’ done it, but I didn’t.
An’ I have sometimes thought as how if I ever got
the chance I’d do it yit.”

“Mr. Brewer,’ — the little hand moved up and down
the coarse jeans, stopping now and then to pat, ever
so gently, the miner’s knee; “I believe I wouldn't,
Mr. Brewer. I don’t think the heroes in the books
ever did, except the war heroes, —they had to kill,
sometimes, — Napoleon, and Alexander, and Lord
Nelson, and them. But mother says that true heroes
don’t, — they forgive. And then you might be sent
off again, if you did, and your friends would miss you
so, — your real old friends. Five years is a long time.”

«“ A right peart chunk out o’ a feller’s life,” sighed
the old man. “There was a cave-in of the Lodge
mine soon after the storm I’m telling you about; jest
a day or so after that raskil, Luke Ford, started that
lie about my boys. Luke disappeared, an’ the next
week I was arrested for killin’ of him. That’s all,
Master John, — all we-uns knows o’ the matter.
_Maybe God an’ the old Tennessee knows more, an’ll
make it plain in their own good time.”

There was a sigh, followed by a silence, while the
two “old friends’’ sat gazing into the red coals, each
busy with his own thoughts. The blue china saucer
had been set aside with the apple peel and core, which
the wee Chesterfield had been told it was “ vulgar ”
to eat. His right elbow rested upon the little knee,
which the tiny pants failed to cover. The delicate
42 HERO-CHUMS.

chin was supported by one hand, while the other
strayed caresgsingly over the miner’s brown jeans a
moment more, then disappeared in the great brown
palm of the older “friend,” and was held in a strong,
close clasp.

“They were nice boys,” declared the younger
“friend.” “Dave was a hero after—I always
say after, when I mean like,--and Dave was a
hero after John Howard Payne. You know he went
off, too, Mr. Brewer, to Africa. And when he came
home he was dead; and everybody was sorry, and
went to see him buried. He had been dead thirty
years when they buried him at home. Dave makes
me think of him. I feel like he might come home,
too, sometime, to be buried, and everybody turn out
to the funeral to pay for that ‘black, black night,’
The Tennessee has treated you outrageously. And it
took your house, too, Mr. Brewer ?”

«“ Aye, an’ wife an’ little gal. I was off with a lot
_o’ men tryin’ to find the wreck © the Chattanoogy
Belle. Fiver’thing was under water still, — the Ten-
nessee was on a reg’lar tear, an’ still risin’. But
who’d ever thought o’ it reachin’ my cabin? We
was out all night, an’ the next mornin’ at sunup
we started down to Muscle Shoals on the track 0’
the Belle. We knowed she never could cross that
ole gov’mint stumblin’-block, nohow.

“ All at once one o’ the men called to us to look at
somethin’ comin’ down the river. Lots o’ things had
floated by the day before, — chicken-coops, dog-ken-
CONFIDENTIAL. 43

nels, an’ wagon-beds, showin’ how the barns an’ yards
had been flooded. But when the chairs and tables
begin to come, we knowed the Tennessee had riz into
the houses. Once we sighted a kurus little craft, that
turned out to be a cradle, with a little bald-headed
baby fast asleep in it. The cradle struck our raft,
and splashed the water in the little one’s face, so as
it waked up an’ laffed. We retched out to take it,
but afore we could tetch it, the thing tilted, an’ the
baby dropped out o’ sight. We heard it coo in its baby
way, as it disappeared, — went straight to God, with
that laff on its pretty lips.

“ But this time it wasn’t a cradle; it was a house,
or a piece of one, and in a minit I see it was mine.
It lodged in a wild-haw thicket, where the water beat
it to pieces. When we-uns got to it there was nothin’
in it but a bed that was made into the side o’ the
wall, an’ layin’ on it was my wife an’ little gal. Both
were dead, an’ on my wife’s temples was a big black
bruise, where a fallin’ beam had struck her senseless,
as I ‘lowed, an’ the little gal had crep’ close up into
her mammy’s arms, with her feet drawed up, as if
they was tryin’ to get away from the water, when the
cold Tennessee tetched ’em. Both gone, all gone,
all, all!”

The old man spoke slowly, with his head dropped
forward on his breast, and his hand still clasping the
little warm fingers of his child-friend. A tear trem-
bled upon the boy’s long lashes, which all his efforts
at heroism were powerless to stay.
44 HERO -CHUMS.

“ Dear old friend,” he said, when he had somewhat
gained control of his emotions, “I hope you will
excuse me for cryin’. I’m afraid it isn’t manly. I
can’t think of a hero who ever did; but, indeed, sir,
I saw, or thought I saw, that little baby laugh,
and when I went to laugh back at it, the Tennessee
seemed to slap me in the face, and make me blind.
And when I could see clear again, the little baby had
gone; disappeared in the cold water. I’m afraid that
Pm very much afraid of the water, sir. Do you think
it’s cowardly to be afraid of the water? I hope not,
sir. And, would you please not hold my hand quite
so tight? The ring hurts it a little. I am sure it
is the ring’s fault. Thank you, sir; see what a red
mark it made.”

He lifted his hand, to find it again clasped, loosely,
but tenderly, between the brown palms of his old
friend.

“ Why, what a bear’s hug the ole paw did give it!”
said Brewer, stroking gently the child’s hand. They
were such old friends! Even a hero-worshipper could
receive tenderness from an old, old friend and com-
rade. The bit of flattery, too, was not objectionable,
coming from such a source. “It’s a nice hand,’— he
inspected it closely, —‘‘a nice little ba—hero’s
hand.”

“Thank you, sir,” said John. “I was a little
afraid you were going to call it a baby’s hand. It
is a nice ring, too; don’t you think so?”

“A mighty nice ring, sir. But don’t it look a

>
CONFIDENTIAL. 45

leetle like a gal’s ring? It couldn’t be a gal’s ring,
Master John ?”

“No, indeed!” shouted John. “It is a hero’s
ring. Tm s’prised you'd think it a girl’s ring when
it’s a hero-ring. Not that I’m a hero, but it’s just
a sign—a thimble, I think mother said— that ’m
growing to one all I can. Thimble isn’t quite the
word, unless you lisp. I lisp a little sometimes, and
so I say thimble when I mean thimble. You under-
stand ?”

“T see,” said the old man, “I see. It’s a symbol
ring, then?”

“Prezactly! Mother gave it to me for having a
tooth pulled out with a pair of iron tweezers, and not
crying. None of my heroes cry. Yes, Alexander
the Great cried. It was a very foolish cry, though.
Just sat down and cried because he whipped the
whole world, and couldn’t find anything else to whip.
Mother gave me the ring to remind me that I was
a hero. Not a grown-up one like Socrates and
Achilles, you know. But little heroes can grow up
to big ones if they keep on a-heroing; don’t you
reckon they can?”

“ Most sure of it,” declared the old man, “if they
don’t get a back-set to cramp their growth.”

“J thank you, sir. I thought so, too. Wouldn’t
you like to have a hero-ring, Mr. Brewer?”

“ More better than anything in this world, Master
John.”

“Then you shall have it,” declared John. “Tl
46 HERO-CHUMS.

ask mother about it this very night, and—oh! I
forgot the tip, I did forget it entirely. And the sun
has passed it, sir. T’m most sure it has. Do look,
sir, and see. I would be very sorry if I let the sun
pass the tip.”

The old man arose and opened the door. As he
did so there was a hurried crackling of the rude
platform before the cabin, and in the pretty moun-
tain twilight a figure moved hastily away in the
uncertain light. ‘The miner watched it narrowly ;
there was a familiar dignity in the upright carriage
that belonged neither to the mines nor to the river
men. The mists were heavy already, for the little
valley town, shut in by the mountains and cut by the
big Tennessee, was, as the old miner said, “ airish
even in June-time,” and the twilights there fall early.
The retreating figure was making the most of the
uncertain light, but, dim as it was, the convict recog-
nised him, and wondered what it meant.

“Not eavesdroppin’, surely,” he muttered, “ yet
it do certainly p’int that away. Master John, the
tricky ole sun’s got the drop on us this time, sure.
But the ole horse’ll fetch you home in a twinklin’.
Up, sir, and mount. Ready? The crutch belongs
to me, you know. All right, sir, and will you just
keep a firm holt till I can chuck the key under the
boards, sir? Now, sir, and —buckaty! buckaty!”

And away they went, those two old friends, in the
wake of the figure that had disappeared in the mists.
And the child laughed and chatted in his artless way,
CONFIDENTIAL. 4T

while the old man’s heart hardened with new doubts
and suspicions of a fresh injustice. And when at
last he had deposited his charge safely upon the “ top
step” of the superintendent’s house, and turned back
into the white mists towards his lonely shanty, his
lips found expression for the feelings burning in his
heart.

“Did he think I wouldn’t do to trust?” he mut-
tered. “Was he watchin’ and listenin’ to see if Old
- Despair’s talk and company was fitten for his son?
If not, what was he skulkin’ about. my door for?”

He paused and drew his hands into fists; his teeth
were set in his lips, like a wild beast’s.

“Oh, but men air mean,” he hissed ; “ all men air
mean.” :

He had cause to think so, perhaps, so is injustice
wont to breed doubt. se

« All men air mean. It is only the little ones who
air good.”

And thinking of the “little one,’ the child who
called himself his “dear old friend,” the bruised old
heart softened, the fingers loosened; the lips fell
again into their patient quiet; aye, they smiled,
' thinking, as he was, of the child.

A child; yet one destined to colour and reshape
the ruined life of the despairing old convict.
CHAPTER III
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT.

HE days passed quietly at Slipup, despite the

boats and the clatter of the furnace on the hill,

the rattle of the slag-carts, or the shouts of the miners

passing to and from the mines; the iron mines on one

side the town and the coal in the mountains upon the
other side.

Nature surely has never smiled more benignly upon
any spot than she has upon the little valley about
Slipup. First, the valley itself, — green, summer or
winter, — protected by the mountains, fed by the
river; and, as if still fearful lest her gifts had been
scant, the good mother of mankind has crammed the
mountain upon the one hand with iron, while into
that upon the other she has stocked her stores of coal.
Hard indeed is it to believe that despair can intrude
upon such bountiful prosperity.

It was high noon of a day in June, and Saturday.
The men were preparing to leave the mine, according
to their custom, Saturday afternoon.

Brewer had been promising John a peep at the old
sealed entrance to the Lodge, “come another good

Saturday.”
48
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 49

One of the miners’ wives, looking from her window
to see if the men were coming to their dinner,
said :

“ Yonder goes Old Despair and the little master.”

And her voice was a trifle more tender when she
turned to her own toddler that had vexed her sorely —
all day, and bade him “run to the pile for a handful
of chips.” Unconsciously, she had emphasised the
command to run. Yet, at the moment, she felt no
resentment towards the rich lady in the superintend-
ent’s house. She remembered that her son was a
cripple, and for the time she, the humbler mother of
the miner’s child, could afford to pity. Perhaps she
would have reserved her pity could she have heard
the conversation of the lame boy, as old Brewer
trudged away with him past the long line of
shacks.

“Mr. Brewer,’ he was saying, “ wouldn’t it be a
fine thing if the Tennessee could carry boats plumb
clear to the Ohio ?”

«“ A mighty fine thing, Master John,” said the old
man, “but I reckin as it ain’t likely to be, so long as
the Muscle Shoals have got a say-so in it.”

“ Yes,’ said John, “I heard father talking last
night to Mr. Baldwyn. He didn’t know I was in the
room at first, for I always try to touch the floor easy
with my crutch, ’count o’ mother. I think it hurts
mother, somehow, when my crutch goes heavy, for I
have seen the tears in her eyes. And one day I asked
her if the noise made her nervous, because the doctor
50 HERO-CHUMS.

told father once she was very nervous. But she took
me on her lap and held me close up in her arms, and
cried on my curls. I know she did, because Susan
brushed them out and asked me if I had been out in
the rain. So I try to touch the floor easy, so’s mother
won’t be nervous. And last night, when I went in,
father and Mr. Baldwyn didn’t hear me; and father
was saying, ‘It makes me think of some lives, so grand
and full, and capable of so much, but having one great
stop, just like the big shoals, to hinder and spoil their
beauty.’ Then I knew they were talking about the
Tennessee. And Mr. Baldwyn said the government
was going to take hold of that old pile some day, and
blow an opening through it. But father didn’t think
so. ‘It’s like the lives I spoke of, he said; ‘there
for a purpose.’ Then he talked so low I couldn’t hear,
but I heard Mr. Baldwyn say, ‘ He is a little hero.’
And I spoke up from my corner, where I was resting,
and said, ‘Who? Who is a hero, Mr. Baldwyn ?’
For I thought it was some new one. And father
laughed so queer that I peeped into his eyes, and they
were all full of tears. I don’t think he could have
been crying about me. Do you think so?”

“No, sir; no, indeed, sir. Why should anybody cry
about Master John, indeed ?”

“That's what I say!” cried John, jubilantly. “TI
thought for a minute it just might be about this crutch,
you know; but I reckon it couldn’t. It must have
been because of ‘ the lives’ he told about, —‘ so grand
and full and capable of so much,’ but with the ‘ great
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 51

stop. Do you think father could have been crying
for ‘ the lives,’ Mr. Brewer ?”

“ Maybe, Master John,” said the old man; “ maybe.
You can’t always tell.”

“ That’s so,” said John. “It might have been just
the shoals, you know, made him cry; though I don’t
quite think so. IJwish you would carry me up to that
green bluff a minute; I want to look down the river.
I just do love to look down the old Tennessee. There
‘is always something there makes you feel like you
could put out your fingers and pull away a veil and
look right straight at God. Did you ever feel that
way ?”

“ Yes, little master, many a time. But more often
it seems as if the good Lord was far, very far away,’
said the old friend, sadly.

“Yes, that is when the sun shines,” said John,
“and the veil is gold. Motier calls it a mist; and
when I told her how I felt about it, she said, ‘It often
requires a mist to make us feel that God is near.’
Now, sir, here we are on the green bluff among the
mists. Kase me down, my friend, so I can feel the
green grass softing my feet.”

He lifted the light weight from his shoulder, not re-
linquishing his hold entirely until the little twisted foot
was supported by the crutch. It was a favourite spot
with both, the green bluff overlooking the mist-mel-
lowed river and the valley nestled among the purple
distances. To the right of them the big furnaces
belching forth their smoke and flame as they made
52 HERO-CHUMS.

run after run of pig-iron; the slag-carts clattering
down to the dump-pile; while off to the left the coal-
diggers were issuing from the dark mine’s mouth,
laden with their tools and dinner-pails. Before them,
as they stood upon the bluff, the old, forsaken Lodge
mine told the story of the great disaster that had he-
fallen the village years before.

The old miner’s face clouded as his gaze fell upon
the once flourishing but now ruined mine.

“Tt don’t seem’s anything’s finished, hereabouts,”
he muttered. “There’s the river blockaded into
three pools, as you might say, so’s the boats can
only paddle about for a few miles, like ducks in a
mill-pond, ’stid o’ sailin’? on to the Ohio, as they
might ’a’ done if it wasn’t for the shoals and the -
mount’n obstructin’ of the way. And then there’s
the mines,—the long tunnels only half worked,
count o° accidents and the fear o’ accidents.”

He had forgotten the presence of the child, and all
his old bitterness came bounding into life again, as it
always did when he allowed himself to reflect upon
those things which he considered had worked his
ruin. But John, from association with his elders
and the affliction which had thrown him upon books
for company and friends, had acquired that habit of
thinking which comes early and with strange power
to the afflicted. He had listened quietly to the old
man’s complaints. Then he said:

“There are no such things as accidents. I heard
father say so. They are opportunities. Some people
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 58

called it an accident when the apple fell at Sir Isaac
Newton’s feet; but it was only Sir Isaac’s oppor-
tunity come to him. LEverybody’s opportunity comes
sometime. Mine will come some day, too, though
I do have to carry this.”

He laughed as he touched the crutch. The words
and gesture made the old friend think of what he had
said about the river, —‘“It takes a mist to make us
feel that God is near.” Perhaps this was his mist,
this little wooden crutch, —his “ opportunity,’ that
had come to him in such pitiful disguise. Who
knew ?

“ James Watt,’ continued John, “learned from a
lobster-shell on his dinner-table how to carry pipes
under the Clyde River, which had a very bad bed
for pipes. And Mr. Baldwyn. himself told me that
electricity for the telegraph was found first in a
frog’s leg. I asked him to tell me all about it, for
I wanted to know. He said Galvani, a ’lectricity
hero, saw a frog’s leg jump when it touched certain
kinds of metals, and that he made it his opportunity
for great inventions. Oh, but there’s lots of those
accident heroes! But I think that word ought to
be skipped plumb out of the dictionary.”

“Umph!” said the old man. “ Would you call
the cave-in of the old Lodge an opportunity, Master
John?”

John was silent a moment.

“ Well,” said he, “I can’t say plumb clear, but it
surely must be, though I can’t explain it. What are
54 HERO-CHUMS.

all those people doing over there at the mine? They
don’t look like the miners, and they haven’t got any
dinner-buckets. And oh, look! They are going
straight to the old Lodge. What can it mean?”

He pointed excitedly towards a group that was
collecting about the blockaded tunnel that had once
been the mouth of the Lodge mine.

“They’re going to fly into the face of Providence,
by digging a new tunnel,” said the old man. “ But
ivll be the death o’ them as tries it, Master John.
The rats left the old hole long ago, and when the
rats leave a mine it’s always unsafe. Any sort 0’
miner’ll tell you so. There’s all kinds o’ folks down
there, — diggers, and inspectors, and engineers, and
little fellers with hammers and eye-glasses as have
been huntin’ fer ferns and fishes in the coal mine
over yander. Fools, I call ’em; expectin’ to find
fishes and shells two hundred feet underground!”

But John was deaf to all complaints; enthusiasm
shone in every feature.

« Oh,’’ he cried, “do let’s go down! I know what
it is. Mr. Baldwyn told me about it; he does just
love it so. Its geology, or science. Science is its
grown-up name, he says. And it’s about all sorts
of things away down, down, down, and nobody knows
how they got there, in the plumb bottom of the
earth. Do let’s go down. Mr. Baldwyn will be so
glad to know the geologers have been here, when
he gets back. Lift me up to the left ear, sir.
There! And now, buckaty! Your arms have such
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 55

a good feel about them ; just like when mother sings
‘Safe in the Arms.’ Just as if you most knew you
couldn’t slip, ’count of the arms, you know.”

The company had indeed decided to reopen the old
mine, but from a new point, on account of the supply
of rich ore-beds that had never been worked. The
former opening must not be tampered with, the en-
gineer said. As if they had not tried again and
again to force an entrance through the seemingly
solid mass which the great tragedy had heaped before
the first entrance. The workmen had arrived a few
days earlier than they were expected; but being
arrived, they were to remain; hence, there was no
need of haste on the part of the old friends. More-
over, the path was rather uncertain, and the “old
horsey”? none too sure of foot. They descended
slowly, carefully. John took advantage of the
tedium to deliver himself concerning a matter that
had lain heavily upon his heart for some time.

‘“‘ There’s something I want to tell you,” he began. —
«T went to the shack to tell you, but forgot it because
we talked about the Belle. Confidential, sir.”

“ Confidential, Master John.”

“ Mr. Brewer, the people ’round here call you ‘ Old
Despair’ !”

-“Umph! Let ’em; it can’t help nor hinder, as I
knows on,” growled the old miner. “T ain’t a-keerin’
for their say.”

“T know,’ said John, “but it ain’t p’lite, an’ I
thought Pd ’vise you to put a stop to it.”
56 HERO-CHUMS.

There was a twinkle in the faded eyes which but
a moment before had flashed angrily.

“Not easy to do, Master John,’ declared the
miner; “you know folks will talk.”

“JT know that, sir,” cried John, “that’s just what
mother says when old Mrs. Larkins has been paying
her a visit. But I was thinking you might put a stop
to the talk.”

“How, sir, how?” exclaimed the old man, with
great good humour. “Just tell me how to stop the
wag o’ the human tongue, and I'll tell the gov’ment
how to open up the Muscle Shoals. Name your plan,
Master John, an’ let’s see if the stock’s any good.”

“Oh, yowre so funny,” laughed John. “ You're
just like father, for all the world. He always says,
‘T’ll take some stock in that,’ or else, ‘That stock’s
no good. My plan is this: You are to become a hero.
There, isn’t that a fine plan? You are to be a real,
live hero.”

“A what?”

«A hero; a man whom everybody loves an’
respec’s, because he has done some great thing,
you know.”

“ But I know I ain’t done that, little master,” said
the old man.

“But you have,” cried John, with enthusiasm.
“Didn’t you stay out in a flatboat all night once,
helpin’ to save people that were washed away by
the freshup? And didn’t you lose your own wife |
and sons? And didn’t you—”
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 57

“Oh, ho! Stop a bit, Master John. You mustn’t
be tellin’ about that ’round here. That’s our secret,
our ‘ confidence,’ betwixt us two only, to wit.”

“T know, sir,” said John; “I’m not going to tell.
But you see, I know it, and so I know that you are
ahero. So, why couldn’t I just tell people so, with-
out ‘ going into retail,” as Mr. Baldwyn says.”

“Oh, yes, you may do that. Tell ’em I’m an old
‘hero, to be sure; but be sure not to tell how much
of an old hero, Master John. They’d be sure to come
serenadin’ o’ my door down some night, if you tell
too much.”

“Tl be careful,” said John; “but Vl tell them
you are a hero, and must not be called ‘ Old Despair’
any longer. Isn’t that crazy Nan coming towards us,
sir? And whatever can be the matter with her?”

A figure, tattered and unkempt, with loose, gray
hair hanging about a face from which the light of
reason had long fled, was running towards them.
She beckoned and gesticulated with her long arms,
pointing first towards the old mine, where the men
were collected, then towards the river; then clapped
her hands gleefully, and called to the miner to
“hurry and come on.”

“They’re goin’ to rip op’n the old Lodge, Brewer!”
she said, when, breathless and panting, she stood at
his side and plucked his sleeve. ‘“They’re goin’ to
rip it op’n. Oh Lord! Zhey don’t know what’s down
there. You and me does, Brewer. We knows.
They’re lookin’ for” —she put her mouth to the
58 HERO-CHUMS. ¢

miner’s ear, and whispered, as she walked on by his
side, — “fishes! Ha, ha, ha! Fishes in a mine!
Fools! Fishes stay in the river. They ought to
know, but don’t you an’ me tell ’em. Let ’em op’n
the mine; let ’em do it. We'll git our boys then.
Hush, don’t Iet’em hear. We'll git our boys then,
for decent buryin’; I only wants my son for decent
buryin’. You won’t tell ’em there ain’t no fishes in
the mine, will you, Brewer ?”

“Not I, Nan. Let ’em open the old mine if
they’re aimin’ to, an’ find what they can,’ said the
old miner, who felt ill disposed to tell the old woman
that the opening was to be a new tunnel, and not an
entrance into the old one.

“We'll git our boys, Brewer,” she talked on,
giggling and simpering, now and then dropping her
voice into a wail. “I got a good breakfast for
Tom,” she said. “Kept it waitin’ an’ waitin’ for a
hundred years; an’ at last it got stone cold an’
had to be flung out to the dogs. An’ he ain’t come
yit, nor your Dick neither, nor the company’s money
they said Dick stole. Never you min’, Brewer, we’ll
find it — we'll find it when they op’ns up the Lodge
after them fishes. Ha, ha, ha!”

So she rattled on, poor, crazy old Nan, whose boy
Tom had been among the missing that morning
after the collapse of the Lodge. She had waited
her breakfast all day, and roamed the river bank
in the storm all night, and when, the next morning,
ragged and bruised and torn, old Nan returned to
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 59

the cabin and the waiting breakfast, she was mad.
A harmless old creature who remembered nothing
save that awful night’s calamities, and who roamed
the streets, begging always for the body of her son
for “decent buryin’.”

As they approached the group of engineers, who
were beginning to place their instruments for sur-
veying, Nan’s excitement became intense.

“ Here’s Brewer,” she cried, to an old man who
had withdrawn himself somewhat apart from the
rest, and was intently examining some bits of coal
and slate that had been brought over from the
coal mine. “ Here’s Brewer; he knows what’s in
the old Lodge. ’Tain’t fishes. Oh Lord, fishes
in a coal mine! Why, it’s folks—skeletons that
ain’t- never been — ”

“ Wait there, Nan, youre about to tell! ”. shouted
John, impulsively.

The man with the specimens laughed outright.
But the next moment his keen eyes rested upon
the dainty little figure hoisted upon the old man’s
shoulder, and an expression of surprise, not unmixed
with admiration, came into them.

“ Hase me down, my old friend,” John was saying.

The man ceased laughing, and placed his hand
upon the boy’s head.

“ Hello, little man,” he said, “aren’t you a slip
of lost sunshine that has strayed off down here in
this grimy little village ?”

‘¢ Oh, no, sir!” shouted John, amused indeed that
60 HERO -CHUMS.

the man should think such a thing; “I’m just John,
plain John, the superintendent’s son. And this is my
hero. Everybody doesn’t know he is a hero, so they
call him ‘Old Despair’ And now, sir, wouldn’t you
let me see the fishes and ferns that have been ’ryste-
riously embezzled in the earth so long as to baffle
science, the grown-up name of the geologers; and
are they rizacles like Mathuselah, and are they truly
older than auntie Luvins, and who is auntie Luvins,
anyhow, sir?”

The strange man listened with amused attention
until John had ended his speech. Then he dropped
back against the rock and laughed aloud.

«“ Yes, John,” he said, “ they are rizacles. All cre-
ation was a rizacle, for that matter, little man, which
only the hand of a God could have performed. And
aunty Luvins is an old Latin hag that stands for ‘be-
fore the flood.’ When anything happened before the
great deluge, people say it is ante de luvian. Under-
stand? And now, what did you learn about those
‘miracles so mysteriously embedded in the earth as
to baffle science?’ That’s a big lesson for a small
boy.”

“Mr. Baldwyn, sir,” said John. “ He’s a geologer,
too. I heard him telling father.”

The strange man smiled again.

“Do you see this bit of coal, John, and these
rocks ?”’ he said, displaying several choice specimens
that he brought up from a bag swung upon his arm.

John was lifted to a seat beside his new friend,


«¢WELLO, LITTLE MAN, AIN’T YOU A SLIP OF LOST SUNSHINE?’”



OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 63

beaming with anticipation. Mr. Brewer took a con-
venient stand near by. Crazy Nan, too, climbed upon
the rock and listened, or seemed to, quietly and not
without interest. The strange man displayed a small,
flat piece of slate, upon which were the fossilised out-
lines of a fern, delicately and exquisitely traced.

“Oh!” cried John, “ how ever did it get there with
the mountains piled on top of it, if you please, sir?”

“ Ah,my boy,” and the face of the old geologist be-
came grave, “the world would give a good deal, the
world of science, to be able to answer that question
to its own satisfaction. It has puzzled older heads
than yours and mine. But shall I tell you about those
little ferns and shells and tracks of curious insects we
prowlers find away down under the mountains and
mines and secret places ?”

“Tf you only would,” said John. “Why, it would
be better, or most as better, than the hero books. But,
sir, can’t Mr. Brewer sit here? He’s my friend. We
are very old friends, indeed ; old and confidential. And
he is a hero, though he isn’t in the books — yet.”

“'T'o be sure ; to be sure,” said the geologist. “ Have
a seat, Mr. Hero, and we’ll begin.”

And then the strange man settled himself back
against the crag and began that old, old riddle, which
never was, and never will be, understood, of the secrets
of the rocks and hills. He told it as patiently and as
carefully as if the listening ears were not a child’s ears
that hungered for the strange, old story.

“These are fossils,” he said, “ fossils. This coun-
64 HERO - CHUMS.

try —these mountains, I mean —is full of them.
The very finest specimens in the world,” he said.
«“ But as to how they came there, we will have to go
away back. People used to think they were the ani-
mals and flowers that existed before the flood, and
that Noah’s great deluge deposited them there. They
were first noticed by a great painter named Leonard
de Vinci, who saw them in the rocks dug from the
mountains of Verona to repair the city. That was
nearly four hundred years ago. He proved to the
people that no plastic, or moulding, force in nature
could have fastened stones into organic forms, and
that the deluge was inadequate to have collected the
marine fossils — these little fish are called fossils —
that form the solid strata of the earth. Strata, John,
is a bed of earth or rock, and sometimes you may
learn that it is often in layers. You know what lay-
ers mean?”

“Oh, yes. Mother makes layer cake; piles one
thin cake upon piles of others, you know, sir.”

“ Thats it, precisely,’ said the strange man.
“ Well, people began to collect them, — ‘specimens,’
they called them, —and knew no more about them
than you and I. At last a man named Palissy was
brave enough to offer a theory regarding them. Pa-
lissy thought these fossil remains were real animals,
marine, that is, from the sea. After awhile Laibnitz,
a great mathematician, offered a theory. He thought
that the earth had originally been a burning, luminous
mass, which, since its creation, has been gradually
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 65

cooling down, and as it cooled received the condensed
vapours which now form its crust. At one stage he
thought it covered with a great ocean, and from these
two elements, fire and water, Laibnitz thought he
traced two formations; one by refrigeration from
igneous fusion — that is, cooling from its state of
melted heat. The other formation was by concretion
from aqueous solution —that is, the earth was hot
and it was covered with water. The cooling made
one formation, and the massing together of all matter
by the action of the water made another. It’s a big
thing to ask a small boy to gulp down the geology of
the earth at one swallow, Master John, but there is
one thing you may understand and be sure of. The
same hand which put the fish in the sea put them
in the mountains as well; and that same great hand
set the parts of the great creation in their proper
form and place. ‘In six days, the book says, and it
says that a thousand years in his sight are as one
day, so that by our poor narrow little count we can-
not tell how long the Almighty was in creating the
earth, bringing order out of chaos, and laying. the
magnificent strata that so delights the researches of
man. Yet the world has always quarrelled about
these little ferns and fishes and other mysteries, some
claiming as the cause the flood, and others the volcanic
eruptions that shook up the old earth centuries ago, —
turned it upside down, as it were. But, for me, I like
to call it the camera-obscura of the Almighty, upon
which, or with which, he has stamped the form and
66 HERO-CHUMS.

image of the creation he is done with, and hidden
them away in the secret chambers of the earth.”

The strange man ceased speaking. There was a
moment’s silence before old Nan reached out her long,
bony hand and touched his sleeve.

“ Did you say the A’mighty hid ’em there?” she
asked, in a half whisper.

“Yes, my poor woman; hid them there until his
own good time for revealing them.”

“« He hides a power o’ things down there, under the
mountain.”

“ Yes, they are his mysteries. We cannot under-
stand them now, but some day the everlasting hills
will be ripped in sunder and made to reveal their
secrets.”

She bent towards him her face, old and seamed, and
afire with that wild glow men term insanity.

“ Sure ?”’ she asked.

“ Perfectly sure.”

She leaned still a trifle nearer, her face almost
touching his, her hand still clutching his arm.

“ Well, don’t tell Brewer I told you,” she said,
“but down there, under the mount’ns, they’ve got
my boy, them rocks have. And some day— What’s
that ?”

It was the click of a pick beyond the rocks upon
which they were sitting. Some one was pricking the
ribs of the old, forsaken Lodge. Nan listened a mo-
ment. Suddenly it dawned upon her poor mind what
they were doing, and with a wild shriek she bounded
OLD NAN AND A CONTRACT. 67

to her feet, from rock to rock, gesticulating, shouting,
and weeping.

«“ The old Lodge!” she cried ; “ the old Lodge! God
is goin’ to rip it op’n. Come, everybody, and git your
dead. The A’mighty is about to give up the old
mine’s secrets at last — at last — at last!”

And hearing her, how few dreamed that old Nan,
crazy Nan, spoke truly, and that at last the secret
horrors of the great chambers of the earth were to be
revealed.
CHAPTER IV.
A MILE-POST DINNER.

HE mists were enveloping mount and river when
Susan drew the window-shutters fast for the
night, making the little sitting-room of the superinten-
dent’s home secure against the curious gaze of passers-
by. No sooner had the latch clicked into place than
a little white-robed figure emerged from the dressing-
room adjoining.

“ Now, father, bring out the hero books,” said John.
“ We will have to hurry, before the fire makes me nod
like Sir Isaac Newton. My chum says he most knows
it is the fire. Open your arms, mother. Oh, I do
hope I shall never be too big for your arms, mother
dear. Now, then, father, I’m all ready.”

Mr. Weston was slowly turning the leaves of a well-
thumbed mythology. “ Well, John, whom will you
have to-night,’ he asked, “Hercules, Apollo, or
Achilles ?”

A serious expression came into the honest eyes as
the boy replied :

“Neither, sir. I don’t care for them any more.
Mr. Baldwyn says they are not real heroes at all, but

just lagination ones. That Hercules never killed
68
A MILE-POST DINNER. 69

any lion, and never strangled any snake, either, when
he was a baby in his cradle. And Apollo never drove
the sun across the sky in his life. And that Achilles’s
mother never dipped him in any river by the heel, and
that if he had any heels, they were just like every-
body else’s. And that the whole book, heroes and all,
is just a lagination book, that people used to not know
any better than to believe. ‘A pretty story, he called
it, that the Greeks and —”

«“ Romans ?”

“ Yes, father, the Romans, didn’t know any better
than to believe, about the lagination heroes. But I
want sure-enough heroes; like the one who was
burned alive, and when the fire was lighted was told
he might take back and live; and instead of doing it,
he put out his right hand and let it burn off, because
that hand had been a traitor to ’rinciple. He was a
hero. I like a man who isn’t afraid to stand by his
’rinciples ; don’t you, father ?”

“Decidedly, John. Now then, be quiet, and you
shall have the story of Cranmer, the —” He was
about to say “ the fanatic ;’’ but a glance at the pure,
proud face of the little hero-worshipper caused him to
check the thoughtless word, and substitute “ martyr”
in its stead. Not for the wealth of the world would
he cast one stone at his boy’s ideal. The story was
condensed and simplified to meet the childish com-
prehension. When the book was at last closed, he
glanced at the little perfect face nestled against
the mother’s shoulder. He thought for a moment
70 HERO-CHUMS..

the boy was asleep, for the lids were drooped over the
blue eyes. But in a moment he detected a slight
compression of the lips, a delicate contraction of the
brow, and when the earnest blue eyes were lifted to
his, they wore a perplexed expression.

“Father,” he said, “was there ever a hero—I
mean was there ever more than one? I know there
is one, although he isn’t in the books yet. Is there
one in the books, father, who ever suffered wrong, a
ereat deal of it, for something he never did do at all,
and just went on suffering without saying a word to
anybody, excepting, maybe, one very old friend ?”

“ Well,” said Mr. Weston, “I don’t recall such a
one at the moment; but if you will give me the name
of the hero whose deeds are still unwritten, it may
serve as a leader, or guide, to those in the books.”

The boy answered with surprised alacrity :

“Mr. Brewer, sir, of course.”

“ Oh, yes, certainly. I forgot Mr. Brewer. Mother,
can’t you help us find a case that fits Mr. Brewer’s ?”

The mother pressed the smile from her lips in the
mass of golden curls upon her shoulder.

“T don’t recall one just now,” she replied, “ unless
Napoleon will answer.”

Mr. Weston shook his head.

“ Below the ideal, I fancy; too much fight.”

“ Try Dante.”

The curls were lifted a moment.

“ What did Dante do? He’s got a nice name,
anyhow.”
A MILE-POST DINNER. 71

“Dante was a great poet, my son, who had a great
many trials, but who left a wonderful name behind
him. He was imprisoned and exiled from his native
city because of certain matters pertaining to the goyv-
ernment of the city.”

The curls slowly shook their owner’s lack of satis-
faction.

“T don’t quite admire him. I hope my saying so
isn’t impolite.”

The master of the house replied, with hearty good
humour :

“ Not at all, my son. He has been dead too long
for our opinions to affect his biographers. . Try again,
mother.”

“ How would Milton or Bunyan do? Both were
imprisoned poets, you know.”

“JT know all about them. I don’t quite want writ-
ing heroes. I like doing ones better. One that just
did something great, and when people abused him
just sat still and took it. I s’pose Andrew Jackson
wouldn’t have done that, would he, father ?”

The superintendent bit his under lip at the sugges-
tion of tame endurance forming a characteristic of
Old Hickory.

“T’m afraid not, John,” he answered, soberly.

“ Would Henry Clay.?”

“ Hardly!” The emphatic exclamation was quite
unexpected. John had cherished very fond hopes of
denominating his friend “a hero after Clay,” that
matchless master of heroism in the mind of every
es HERO -CHUMS.

American youth. The mother saw the disappoint-
ment in the child’s face and hastened to his relief.

“Never mind, dear,” she said, “we can’t all be
Henry Clays; but we can all adopt as our motto the
immortal sentiment he left to the world: «I would
rather be right than be President.’ Now we will hunt
again for a hero for your old chum. Let’s see. There
was Wellington, whose watchword was ‘Duty.’ And
there was Disraeli, a great man, too, who declared
that ‘the youth who does not look up will look
down.’ And then there was, to go back, Sir Walter
Raleigh, the great man, I suppose, who put his cloak
down for the queen to step upon. And then there
was Michael Angelo, the artist and sculptor, who suf-
fered imprisonment and poverty just as Milton, the
poet, and Bunyan, the preacher, did; and —”

“ Mother! mother!” cried the master of the house.
“Your catalogue of eminent jailbirds quite confounds
our hero hunter. Be merciful; try one more and stop.”

“ Well, then, how is Galileo?”

“What did he do?” The little face was losing
something of the perplexed expression the father had
noticed.

“ Galileo was an Italian astronomer and _philoso-
pher. He was the inventor of the thermometer and
the pendulum, and almost the inventor of the tele-
scope. He was imprisoned for declaring the earth
moved, and not the sun, as people had always be-
lieved. And long after he was dead it was found
that he had been right all the time.”
A MILE-POST DINNER. 73

The golden head left the mother’s shoulder with a
bound.

“That's it!” cried John. “I like him. Hoorah
for Mr. Galileo and his thermomoscope! He’s my
hero. Read about Galileo, father.”

Patiently and carefully, emphasising the best, gin-
gerly touching upon the faults, the superintendent
rehearsed the story of the great astronomer. When
it was ended, the boy said, with earnest emphasis :

“T like him. He’s very like my chum, I think.
Father, don’t you think my Mr. Brewer ought to
have a hero-ring ?”

The superintendent hesitated, somewhat surprised.
John saw it, and understood the hesitation perfectly.

“Indeed, sir, he is a hero. You don’t know him
like I do, father; and really, he ought to have a ring.
And if mother doesn’t mind Id like to give him
mine. He would like it so much, coming from his
old friend. We have had some real confidential
talks, and he says he would like a hero-ring more
better than anything in this world. Could I give
it to him, mother dear? It is my very own, you
know; it was my own tooth that was pulled, and my
own ache, and all.”

Mrs. Weston looked grave. She understood just
how much the little fellow prized that tiny golden
circlet, the first testimonial he had ever received of
that characteristic which his child-heart held above
all others— heroism. She understood the motive
which prompted the wish to bestow the treasure
74 HERO-CHUMS.

upon the old man, from whose sorrows the unformed
judgment had never a garment of heroism. If an
illusion, it leaned to the side of virtue, and she was
loath to dispel it. Still, she would not have the
young intelligence dwarfed or wronged by a false
ideal. She glanced at her husband, who said, by a
motion of the hand:

“ You must decide the case for yourself.”

And decide it she did. The boy was to act upon
his own judgment. The first time Mr. Brewer should
do anything really heroic, according to his ideas,
John was at liberty to bestow upon him the beloved
and honoured badge of a hero.

“Thank you, mother dear,” he said, earnestly. “I
will be very careful about it, indeed I will. Now,
if you please, ’m ready for ‘Safe in the Arms.’
Good night, father; pleasure dreams and sweet
repose. Good night, mother; pleasure dreams and
sweet repose. Good night, Susan, nodding in the
corner; pleasure dreams and sweet repose. And
good night,’ the voice was raised to a kind of jubi-
lant, good-comradeship kind of pitch, “ good night,
Mr. Galileo, with your thermomoscope; pleasure
dreams and sweet repose. Sing a little louder,
mother dear; the fire is putting more winkers on
my eyes, so I can’t keep them open.”

«Safe in the arms of Je-e-sus.”

The little voice did try to follow the divine lullaby,
but the weary head dropped upon the mother’s bosom,
A MILE-POST DINNER. 75

and the eyelids, weighted by the mysterious “ wink-
ers,’ slowly closed, while the mother’s voice followed
the old strain still, a prayer and a lullaby for the
tender nestling.

« Safe on his gentle breast,

There by his love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.”

When at length the golden head rested upon its
pillow “in pleasure dreams,” Mrs. Weston turned to
her husband.

“ Bernard,” she said, “ I am all at sea about John’s
birthday dinner. He insists that his old chum is the
one he desires to be present. When I argued with
him, he silenced me by saying: ‘Mother dear, on a
boy’s mile-post day, as he calls them, ‘ ought he not
to invite his very best friends to the dinner? And
isn’t Mr. Brewer my very dearest friend?’ I told him -
that if Mr. Brewer was invited, he would have to give
up all other guests. ‘Oh, thank you,’ said he, ‘T am
sure my old friend will be quite enough, and we will
have a real confidential celebration of my mile-post
day. And there it ended. I had not the heart to
say no.”

“ Then let it be yes,” said the master of the house.
“‘ Mother,” and his face wore a thoughtful look, “it is
a very odd and pathetic friendship that exists between
these two. I went last evening at your bidding to
bring John home from Brewer’s. As I lifted my
hand to knock, I heard something which made me
76 HERO-CHUMS.

stop, and—look the other way, mother — play the
eavesdropper. The ‘old friends’ were truly quite con-
fidential in their talk. Brewer was telling the story
of his life to that child. When he finished, I heard
John say,‘ That was a very pretty story, a beautiful
story, and very sorrowful. Won’t you take my hand
a moment? It means, — you know, I told you what
it means. I understand, and am very sorry for you.’
I felt like a thief when the man opened the door; and
I crept away like one, too, I am afraid. I tell you,
wife, there is something good in the man, else the
child’s heart would not go out to him with such trust-
ful affection. If his punishment was unjust, what
tongue can express what he must have suffered!
Yes, invite him to the birthday dinner. Somehow,
I feel disposed to follow my boy’s leading. Perhaps
it may be as he says, ‘ God and the old Tennessee will
make it all plain in their own good time.’ Have him
at the birthday dinner, little mother.”

And so the sixth mile-post day found Mr. Brewer
the only honoured guest of the superintendent’s son.
John sat at the window, looking like a rare bit of deli-
cate wax-work, that had been daintily clothed in the
softest of velvet,—a rich crimson in colour, that
brought out the bright gold of the pretty head, and
the faint colouring of the healthy complexion.

“T hope he won’t be late,” the boy had said at least
a dozen times, as he sat watching the long street lead-
ing to the mines, beyond which stood a few of the
miners’ shacks. At eleven o’clock he became restless
_ A MILE-POST DINNER. TT

and went down upon “ the top step,” where he always
stood, just within the iron gate, to wait for his old
friend. But the wind blew a trifle cold, so that he
gave up his watch at the gate, and returned to the
window.

“TI wonder what makes him late,” he said, with a
hint of impatience. The next moment a glad shout
rang through the room. “There he is! Open the
door, Susan. Mother, can’t Susan hurry to open the
door for my friend? It will seem more homeful, ’m
quite sure, mother dear. Come on, dear old chum.
How slow he is. And if he isn’t—yes, ’m quite
confident he is pushing my new wheelbarrow! P’r’aps
Td better run out and meet him. Susan, where is
my cap? It always will get away when I want it.
Hello! Iam coming. MHello there, and good morn-
ing, sir. This is my birthday, my sixth mile-post,
sir. Vm very glad to see you, and the wheel-
barrow, too. I hope you are glad to see me. Are
you glad to see me?”

He was hurrying down the steps, past the gate and
down the village street, a dash of gold and crimson in
the sunlight, shouting as he went, right into the arms
of his dear old friend.

It was indeed a “nice day,” as John said. At the
boy’s request, a table was set for two in the library,
and the friends had their dinner alone. At his re-
quest, also, the master of the house came in to say
grace for them, accompanied by his wife and the
president of the Slipup Iron Company, Mr. Baldwyn,
78 HERO-CHUMS.

who had ruthlessly pulled old Hercules, Achilles, and
Apollo down from the hero’s pedestal by declaring
them but creatures born in the imagination of the
old Greeks and Romans. The little master rose
when his parents entered with their own guest, and
extended his hand to Mr. Baldwyn.

“And how is Master Johnny on the mile-post
day?” asked the president, with lively interest.

“ Just John, if you please, sir, plain John; and he
is very well, I thank you, sir. And this is my old
friend, Mr. Brewer, sir. Some call him ‘ Old Despair.’
And he has had a sight of trouble, sir, and he’s been
to prison for nothing, sir, and he’s a hero after Gal-
ileo, sir.”

«“ Whew! Wait, John, let me catch up!” exclaimed
the president. “You quite startled me with your
learning and news. I am all out of breath, 1 assure
you.”

He soon recovered himself, however, wished the old
man a “good day,” and stood with proudly elevated
head while the superintendent besought a blessing on
the day and its provisions. A smile of keenest enjoy-
ment played about his usually stern lips— lips that
were more ‘wont to scoff, indeed, than to smile —
while the ceremonies continued.

“ Sing, mother dear,’ cried John the moment his
head was lifted from the plate, where the golden curls
had been reverently bowed during the blessing. “ Sing
us one little verse before you go.”

“Vm afraid I don’t quite know any birthday songs,
A MILE-POST DINNER. 79

John,” smiled the mother, with a half timid glance at
the scoffer standing at the other side of the table.

“¢Safe in the Arms’ will do,’ declared John.
“ And please let it be the verse about ‘kroding care,
Id like my chum to hear that verse especial. Listen,
Mr. Brewer; it is a very nice verse.”

Mrs. Weston glanced at her husband inquirinely ;
he nodded, and with no further thought of the rich
unbeliever, but with heart full of pity for her humbler
guest, she sang the “nice verse” of the sweet old
hymn that has comforted its millions of care-bur-
dened souls.

«“ Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world’s temptation,
Sin cannot harm us there.
Safe from the blight of sorrow,
Safe from my doubt and fears,
Only a few more trials,
Only a few more tears.”

There were, indeed, tears in the mother’s eyes, when
she reluctantly left the two “dear old friends ”’ alone
with their dinner. Tears of sympathy for the un-
happy, ill-judged old man who had won the confidence
and affection of her boy. And through the child’s
faith, her own was beginning to take root. Already
she was beginning to think of the old man as one
deeply and sorely wronged. She smiled through her
tears when she first realised it. :

“John’s belief in the man’s heroism is about to
80 HERO-CHUMS.

make us all fall down and worship,” she said, with a
laugh, when she joined her husband and his guest a
moment later.

“The man hasn’t a bad face,” said Mr. Baldwyn,
“and they say he behaved very well in prison; made
some ‘ good time, if I am not mistaken.”

“Indeed,” spoke up the ex-convict’s new defender,
“he was pardoned by the governor of the State, for
brave and noble conduct on the occasion of a great
cave-in among the mines of the branch prison where
he was confined.”

Mr. Baldwyn laughed. “ Well, well,’ said he,
“ perhaps I have not given the hero full credit. Un-
fortunately, we have no cave-ins convenient, with
which to test his courage, since the old Lodge mine
has settled. By the way, Weston, the boys went back
to work in the old shaft last week, I am told. Is it
perfectly safe, do you think ?”

The host’s brow contracted.

“The inspector pronounced it safe,’ said he.
«“ Brewer, who knows a good deal about mines, in-
sisted that it was a death-trap, and was opposed to
meddling with the ‘old cave, as he calls it. We will
go down when the whistle calls the men back from
their dinner, and see what progress they are making.
I don’t like the place. Indeed, I have always enter-
tained a kind of nervous, half-superstitious fear of the
old Lodge mine, and I am partly disposed to credit
the tales told by the first miners; that there is more
treasure buried in the Lodge than the red iron ore.”
A MILE-POST DINNER. 81

“ Maybe, maybe,” laughed the president. “I will
possibly take stock in your treasure when the mine is
reopened, Weston.”

“Only a cave-in will ever open her vaults again,”

ssaid Mr. Weston, soberly.

“And in that event I forespeak the honour of
presenting Master John’s hero-ring to our friend
Brewer,’ chuckled Mr. Baldwyn.

The speech was a light one, carelessly made, yet in
less than an hour it seemed almost a prophecy. Na-
ture, indeed, is incomprehensible in her moods, defy-
ing the wisdom of man, and often awaking in timid
breasts the old-time, dead-and-buried superstitions,
whose sepulchre has been dug by science and sealed
by knowledge long ago.

The words had scarcely left the president’s lips,
when there was heard a low sound, half groan, half
hiss, followed instantly by a roar; and then a crash
which brought the listeners to their feet, with excla-
mations of frightened wonder. The house trembled
and rocked like a toy boat on the broad breast of the
ocean ; the windows fell with a crash ; the vases upon
the mantel tottered and toppled to the hearth in a
hundred pieces. And while each stricken listener
stared at the white faces of the others in that instant
of terror, the door burst open, and Brewer, pale as
death, sprang into the room.

“The mine, sir!” he shouted: “The old Lodge!
For God’s sake, come quick!”
CHAPTER V.

THE OLD LODGE.

N a short time the entire village had collected, full
of wonder not unmixed with fear, about the old
mine where, years before, the jealous earth had
closed its great mouth against its despoilers, locking
its secrets, together with its treasures, in its strong -
depths, from whence all efforts of men and art had
been powerless to wrench them.

And now she had performed a second wonder ; the
old mound had opened; the great mouth stood agape,
the old sepulchre and treasure-house stood wide again,
as if in mockery of the petty picks that had begun
the week before to pick her iron-girt sides.

Old and young, male and female, flocked to the
scene. They were awestruck, dumb, at first, with a
great superstition. Then they wrung their hands,
the women among them, and begged the men to come
away and leave the old pit alone.

“Its the A’mighty,” they said. “ His curse is on
the Lodge. Come away; let be, lest the A’mighty
curse you, too, along with the earth he created.”

It was impossible to convince them that the open-
8
THE OLD LODGE. 83

‘ing of a new tunnel had caused the disturbance with
the old one, loosening its foundation, causing the
crash, and wrenching apart those old rock barriers
that had defied them for so long. The word which
passed from lip to lip was that the old Lodge was
open, and the dead miners were all there. Then fear
seemed to give place to wonder entirely.

Old women came hurrying down to claim their
dead, as if they had only said good-bye the day before,
and forgetting the years could have left them only
fleshless bones for the warm life that had gone down
into the unsuspected sepulchre. The. earth and the
Almighty had relented and given them back their
lost ones at last.

Then came another message, a new fear awakened.
Some one must go down into the tunnel to ascertain
if any lives had been lost there. The crash had
barred the passage, and in the excitement and confu-
sion it was impossible to tell if any were missing.
Fortunately, for misfortune always has a better side,
the accident had taken place at noon, when the men
were at their dinners. So nobody had thought of a
new horror, until Jasper Crowe came panting into the
crowd, declaring that his sons had returned to work
half an hour before, together with half a dozen others.

Then it was decided that some one must go down
—make a way, if none could be found, to the im-
prisoned miners.

There was no time for parleying. What was done
must be done at once. There were still to be heard
84 HERO -CHUMS.

mutterings and hissings of gas, together with an
occasional rumble of the loosened stones and sliding
earth. Nobody cared to risk his life in the old, super-
stition-haunted mine, it seemed ; and the new captives
would have to take their chances, as had those other
victims ten years before.

“A volunteer, a volunteer,’ was called, when a
basket had been made ready, for the mine had not
opened at the side where the tunnel had been dug,
but had parted in a great seam higher up, where the
old dump-carts had been wont to bring the slag from
the furnace and dump it into the great gorge further
back towards the Tennessee.

A volunteer, a life, it might be, for a few stark
corpses. There is no one so afraid of the earth as
the miner. Familiarity does not take away any of
his terror; it only acquaints him the more thoroughly
with her treachery, her mystery of damp and gas and
slate. There was one, however, for whom the old
earth had no terrors; one whose all, save perhaps the
puny thing called life, was buried in her relentless
brown bosom.

It was Old Despair — Mr. Brewer, the ex-convict.
He pressed through the throng to Mr. Weston and
Mr. Baldwyn to offer his services to go down into the
mine. The people, with that excitement common to
miners, were praying and shouting. When they
understood that he was about to make the descent
into the pit, they ceased to exclaim, but gathered in
groups and whispered his name, Old Despair, as if
THE OLD LODGE. 85

the sublimity of the undertaking had frozen their
voices.

The stillest one among them was old Nan. She
crawled up the steepest point of rock overlooking the
hole into which they were about to lower the brave
old miner. Her gray hair hung about her face, that
was old and wrinkled. She laughed now and then, a
low, chuckling kind of laugh, unheard by any of the
crowd.

Suddenly, when the miner passed near the rock
upon which she stretched herself, she leaned far out
over the dangerous edge, and beckoned him with her
long, thin hand. Then her crazy, cracked voice rang
out clearly and sharply:

«< Brewer,” she called, “Brewer! Jf you find my
Tommy down there, holler it back to me, won’t you,
Brewer ?”

The words seemed to set the people wild, and to
remind others whose dear ones might be there with
old Nan’s Tom. An old man, bent and feeble, laid
his hand upon the miner’s sleeve, plucking it eagerly,
and said, in a low, trembling voice:

« An’ if my Neddy’s there, lemme know, neigh-
bour.”

And then a woman’s voice rang out above all other
sounds.

“T’ve got a boy down there, Brewer. He’s got on
a gray suit o’ clothes; you'll know him by that. He
went away down there ten year ago come nex’ spring.
Look out for him, Brewer, do.”
86 HERO-CHUMS.

“Let the dead be, and look out for the livin’,”
shouted Crowe, the man who had reported his sons
caught in the crash. “Let the dead be, and look to
the livin’, Brewer.”

«“ The livin’ is all up here, neighbour,” replied the
woman. “If your boys is down there, they’re dead as
ourn now. An’ our’n is alive as your’n, though
they’ve been gone ten year. Look out for our’n,
Brewer; we-uns have had the longest mourn.” She
broke into a low wail, as if the opening of the old
mine had opened the old heart wound, along with the
earth’s. For grief only slumbers; it never dies.

While the miners’ wives were lamenting, the min-
ers themselves were busy preparing for the descent.

AH were busy, Mr. Weston with the rest, so that
none noticed the little figure upon the hillside, off
from the crowd and danger from the mine. It was
John, the superintendent’s son. There was no more
interested eye in the throng, as he stood there, lean-
ing upon his crutch, beside the wheel-chair, in which
he had been “ rolled ” to a point of observation.

He stood with one hand fast clasped in the hand of
the faithful Susan. It was upon this condition that
he had been permitted to go near the mine at all.
He could see the basket, and the men arranging the
ropes, while Mr. Brewer stood waiting, ready to de-
scend; but he could not understand in the least what
his old friend was about to do. Susan explained as
best she could, until Reuben, the superintendent’s hired
boy, climbed the hill, and told them that it wasn’t
THE OLD LODGE. 87

judgment day, as he had at first supposed, but a
cave-in, and that Old Despair was the only man in
Slipup brave enough to go down among the sulphur,
and gas, and skeletons. John’s face fairly shone with
enthusiasm.

“ How I should like to shake hands with the brave
old fellow,’ he cried, “before he goes down to the
sulphur, and gas, and skeckeltons! Could he hear
me, Reuben, if I called, do you think ?’’

“Tm afraid not, little master,” said Reuben, “ but
maybe he could hear me. Shall I holler for you, sir ?”

“If you please would, Reuben, and quick. He is
getting in. What is father doing? Oh, I’m so glad
father did, indeed he did, shake hands with him. And
did he lift his hat, Reuben? I’m most plumb sure
he did. And what is Mr. Baldwyn twisting his nose
in his handkerchief that way for? Please shout, Reu-
ben. Louder! Oh, do make it come louder, Reuben!
Can’t you bring the holler right clear up from your
toes? Susan says she does. Ah!”

A prolonged shout from the bluff caused the people
to look up, where the little figure, still wearing its
holiday suit of gay velvet, stood watching with intense
interest the hurried proceedings below.

“Why, it is the little master,’ said one of the
women, “come to see his old friend, Despair, go to
his death.”

The old man heard the words, and smiled. It
wasn’t thinking of death, nor yet of heroism, made
his old face shine. He could not catch one word that
88 HERO-CHUMS.

was said up there on the hill; but he saw a little
hand lifted, and then the velvet cap was snatched
from the golden curls, and swung triumphantly above
them.

Triumphantly the old fellow knew instinctively
that his friend up there did not look upon the thing
he was about to do as “ going to his death.’ Or, if it
should prove so, it was a pilgrimage well worth the
making. Others were lamenting, calling him a fool ;
but, to the child, he felt himself a hero.

“Mr. Brewer, oh, Mr. Brewer! Wait just a min-
ute before you go down to the skeckeltons. Wait!
Wa-it, my dear old friend.”

The shout was entirely lost on the air; but the
sight of a boy running down to them was suffi-
cient to hold the crowd until Reuben, breathless
and excited, yet evidently fully alive to the enjoy-
ment of the duty imposed upon him, stood in their
midst.

First, he went over where Mr. Weston stood, and
whispered something in his ear. Instantly the tears
sprang to the eyes of the sensitive master.

“ Do whatever he bade you,” he said to the hired
boy, “and do it precisely as he bade you.” And
Reuben, lifting his hat, as his master had done,
stepped up to the old man about to descend into
the death-trap sprung for the second time, as they
believed, in the old Lodge mine. “If you please,
sir,’ said the boy, “the young master up there sent
you this, and he hopes you will be safe in the arms.”


“CIF YOU PLEASE, SIR, THE YOUNG MASTER SENT YOU THIS.’”



THE OLD LODGE. 91

And the hired boy turned away his face to hide his
own tears as he extended his hand towards the old
man. In the palm of it lay a tiny golden circlet, the
beloved hero-ring. The old man understood the mes-
sage it bore. He slipped it into his bosom, near to
his bruised and broken old heart. The next moment
the basket began to descend, and the face of Old
Despair, still wearing that rapt, ecstatic smile, passed
out of sight into the old, forsaken. sepulchre of the
Lodge.

There followed a silence, while those upon the out-
side waited for a signal agreed upon. One pull upon
the rope was to announce danger, and meant that
they were to haul him up at once. Two meant
that all was well, and that others wishing to make
the descent would be safe in doing so.

It seemed a long time in which they waited; but
the suspense was relieved somewhat by news from the
men whom Jasper Crowe had supposed buried in
the new disaster. They had not gone immediately
to the mine, as was thought, but merely had taken
a run down the river on an empty coal-barge to
inspect an old shaft, half a mile below, that was
about to be reopened. They were, at that time,
returning in time, as they supposed, for the whistle
that always called the men to work.

The people gave a shout for the living, and imme-
diately turned, with a sigh, to await the news from
the dead. They had not much longer to wait, till
there came a pull upon the rope, dangling in the
92 HERO-CHUMS.

great hole at their feet. One! two! and a great
shout went up.

But the odour of gas, and a continuous, dust-like
cloud that issued from the opening, was sufficient to
deter many who might otherwise have wished to make
the descent. As it was, only four went down. These,
among whom were the inspector and the engineer
who had been superintending the opening of the new
tunnel, provided with lamps, were lowered to join
Brewer in the underground prison, with its darkness
and dangerous gases, perhaps the fatal death-trap
itself, ready to spring upon them from some unsus-
pected covert, and the misplaced and quivering boul-
ders ready to drop with the slightest motion. 2

They followed a circuitous route upon leaving the
basket, in and out among the treacherous rocks and
blockaded passages, led by the miner, who knew the
windings of the old tunnels in their first days. Sud-
denly they halted before a small opening, made,
evidently, by the recent crash that had effectually
blockaded all further passage save through that one
small, newly made aperture. The men _ hesitated.
Bits of earth dropped about their shoulders, while
overhead, the rocks seemed to quiver still with the
violence of the shock that had ripped them from their
fastenings.

They could see into the chamber beyond. Some of
the men recognised it as the old “vestibule room,”
so called because of its resemblance to a tiny cham-
ber, of perfect form, with a natural door-like entrance
THE OLD LODGE. 93

into the great tunnel beyond. It was here the miners
of the old Lodge used to congregate at noon, and eat
their dinners by the light of their tiny lamps. And
it was here a daring mountain stripling had hid-
den once, in the old days, when the Lodge had been
worked by the convicts, under the State lease; and
he had crouched with his ear to the wall, and over-
heard a plot worked among the convicts, to rush upon
the guard and make a break for freedom. The walls
were very thin, so thin, indeed, that the slightest
whisper could be heard on either side the frail par-
tition. So thin, the convicts heard the breathing of |
the boy in the vestibule, and killed him for an eaves-
dropper and a spy. Then they made their break for
liberty, and more than a dozen obtained it. And
then the lessees refused prison labour to the com-
pany, and withdrew the convicts to Inman.

The men — some of them “ knew the old vestibule
by heart,” as they said — stood swinging their lan-
terns above their heads, none of them too anxious
to enter the haunted old hole, into which the light
. flashed with startling brilliance.

Suddenly there was a crash, and the men fell back,
afraid, for a moment, to so much as look at the fresh
rent made in the partition.

“ For God’s sake, don’t tempt the old earth any
further. Let’s go back,” cried one. And then:

“ Look there!” shouted another. “ Let’s get out of
here before the door claps shut again.”

“ No, boys,” said Brewer, who until then had


94. HERO-CHUMS.

scarcely spoken, “we won’t turn back till the old
Lodge sets straight some o’ the wrong she’s done.
Go on. Not a man turns back. Go on, I say!
unless you be a lot of cowards. Our dead air
here, only our dead, and the dead can’t hurt you
none. Afeard? Be you afeard o’ that?”

And he swung his lantern till it flashed upon some-
thing half lying, half crouching, close-pressed against —
the shattering partition which separated the great
tunnel from the vestibule, a ghastly, grinning, hor-
rible something, before which the strongest of them
drew back in terror.
CHAPTER VI.
SECRETS.

HEN the leader swung his lantern above the

ghastly “ find,’ the men had drawn away
from it in superstitious terror. It was only a moment,
however, before they understood that it was a skele-
ton, bare and fleshless, and without other covering
than a few clinging, rotted rags that had once been
clothes. It lay within the vestibule chamber, the
head pressed fast against the sounding partition, in
the position in which death had found the eaves-
dropper, — listening! Decay had been powerless to
destroy the perfect impression. With clothes and
flesh upon the bleaching bones, they would have
been a man crouched to hear voices on the other
side of the partition.

“Come away!” shouted one of the men. “It is
the spirit of the boy the convicts killed.” And there
was a break towards the basket.

But the inspector had become as deeply interested
as was Brewer. He was not a mountaineer, and did
not possess their superstitions. He ordered the men
to come back, and stood watching while Brewer

stooped to examine more closely the hideous bones.
95

—
96 HERO-CHUMS.

When he arose, he touched the thing contemptu-
ously with his foot.

“ Boys,” he said, “this ain’t no spirit. Hit’s the
body o’ Luke Ford, as disappeared the day the old
Lodge went in, and for which I sarved a term in
the State prison. Look at him; some o’ you-uns’ll
remember him. He had two front teeth missin’, —
one up, and one below, — and the thumb of his right
hand was gone. Look at that, and see if it ben’t
Luke.”

The men crowded about ‘the skeleton, forgetting
everything but the strange discovery. The old man
set his lantern before the grinning face. There were
the cavities, truly, left by the missing teeth, and
from the right hand, sure enough, the thumb was
gone.

“Ts Luke,” declared one of the miners; “I
_ worked with him long enough to know him dead
or alive. Lord, Lord! Whoever would ’a’ thought 0’
Luke Ford bein’ buried down here? Funny nobody
ever thunk o’ that, now, wa’n’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t a bit funny,” said Brewer. “ Least-
wise, it was not much fun for me.”

“ Well, the old Lodge have gin its testimony at
last, neighbour, and it have cl’ared you. T’m proper
glad for you.”

«“ And I, Brewer,” said the inspector. “ And since
this chamber has given up its secret, let us pass on to
the next one. Who knows what that one may have
to offer?”
SECRETS. 97

They moved on, slowly and carefully, through the
crumbling ruins. Suddenly the inspector halted.

“Hold your lantern a bit higher,” he said, scan-
ning the wall before them. ‘Higher yet; these little
lamps are no good in a hole like this. Wait, — that’s
it, —hello! What are the figures? Twenty-one.
What day was it the Lodge went in?”

“October twenty-one,” said Brewer; “or twenty,
if you’d rather call it so, for it happened afore
day.”

“Not before the inspector passed through. See,
there are his marks. He passed at three o’clock in
the morning, and that’s when he scratched his mark.
At six, the men would have read this endorsement in
every gallery, doubtless, in which they worked. Then
the crash was from fire-damp. No sane inspector
would have been fooled into endorsing a mine, with
any other danger near. It was that slyest and surest
of all fiends, the deadly fire-damp. The inspector dis-
appeared that night, or rather, morning; therefore,
he must have been caught in the trap, while in the
very act of recording the mine safe. Move on.
Unless I am mistaken, we will give you back at
least one of your sons.”

They passed on, following that pitiful twenty-one,
until they could pick a way into the great tunnel,
which lay just beyond the vestibule chamber. By
crawling upon their hands and knees they were able
to enter. Once in, and the light from the lantern
turned upon the scene, they uttered such an exclama-
98 HERO-CHUMS.

tion of horror that the old rocks seemed to quake
from the very force of it.

The dead were there, verily; the untombed dead.

Back against their prison wall, — for it had indeed
proved their prison, —in an upright, sitting posture,
as if the deadly damp had taken them in the midst of
pleasant conversation, were three skeletons. At their
feet, prone upon the ground, lay two others. So per-
fectly preserved, so strangely lifelike were they, that
when, for an instant, the lantern was turned aside,
they might easily have been mistaken for a friendly
group of human beings, resting for a moment in the
tunnel before returning to their work.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed one of the miners.
“And to think we-uns runs risks like this every
day,— every day. God, how few understands the
life of a miner!”

Brewer sighed as he set his lantern back against
the wall. The dampness had preserved both skele-
tons to the extent that they could even distinguish
bits of the “gray clothes” he had been told to look
out for.

He pointed to one of the heaps of fleshless bones.
Both arms had fallen away, and the head had dropped
beside the trunk.

“ That,” said he, “is my boy Dick. There’s a gold
fillin’ in the front tooth of that head that ’'d know
anywheres top-side o’ this earth. ’Twas put there
by a Chatt’noogy chap, when Dick went up there
with Cap'n Morton once, on the little water-devil,
SECRETS. 99

the Belle. The pile o’ bones next to Dick belongs
to ole Nan’s boy, unless I’m mistaken. The ‘ gray
clothes’ one is Ned Links. Now, boys, look for
proofs ; J don’t need none, but you-uns might. That
one over there I can’t make out. I reckin his folks
are all gone from hereabouts.”

There was small necessity for proofs other than
those offered by Brewer. More than mere proof, how-
ever, was brought to light with the imperishable trin-
kets, such as knives, watches, and other things, found
among the skeletons. There was found a long, flat,
tin case, an inch in thickness and four by eight inches
in length and breadth. It belonged to Dick Brewer,
and lay beside his skeleton, with poor Dick’s name
as he had scratched it with a penknife. It contained,
when they pried it open, the last report, ready to be
made to the company, by Dick. There were other
papers of importance which he, as acting superintend-
ent, had executed the very day before the mysterious
disappearance. And then, by no means least in
importance, there was a note from Dave, written that
same night, and marked “care of Tom Reeves,” old
Nan’s boy, whose skeleton lay in a heap beside that
of poor Dick Brewer.

The men crowded about Brewer, holding their
lanterns so that the light would fall strongest upon
the long-lost clue. But the old man’s hands trembled
so that he could not see the words, and he passed the
paper over to the inspector, who read it aloud. It was
short, but long enough to clear up many mysteries:
100 HERO-CHUMS.

Dear Dick:—If you get back from Bridgeport to-night
you better go to the mine. I see dust coming from the
Lodge all day. And Silas Reeves say the rats are gitting
away from it. I’m gone with the Cappen on the Belle. It’s
an orful night. If we never come back, —tell father. It’s
for the Cappen. Dave.

Clear! Verily, the old Lodge had explained the
long mystery. Dick had been up at Bridgeport, con-
tracting for workmen, the superintendent being ill;
there was the contract in the old tin case. Coming
home after night, he had been met by Tom with the
note, and together they had gone to the mine, being
joined, doubtless, by the others whose skeletons were
there. They had been followed and spied upon by
Luke Ford, the eavesdropper and self-appointed de-
tective, whom death had taken at the very moment
when he stretched himself to listen to the conversa-
tion of the men on the other side of the partition.
They had found, as they believed, the mine all right,
and sat down to talk awhile and— evidently — to
wait for the storm to blow over. And while they
waited the crash had come.

There was also found the roll of money, untouched,
not a dollar missing, which had been entrusted to
Dick, the young inspector. It was carefully wrapped
in a wallet of strong leather, marked “T. I. C.,” —
Tennessee Iron Company. What a story the old
wallet told !

Clear! There was but one thought in Mr. Brewer’s
mind. Clear! He forgot for the moment his wrongs,


SECRETS. 101

his sorrows, and the injustice of fate. He forgot the
old earth itself had been cruel ; cruel and unjust to him.
He remembered only that it was kind; kind at last to
open its strong bosom and set him clear. Kind, kind,
kind! Kinder by far than humanity had been, for
humanity had withdrawn her hand, her heart, her
very ear itself; to his misery she had been deaf,
empty, cold. And now he was clear. The old earth
had done it, — God’s earth, and, alas! God’s mystery.
He staggered, and leaned against one of the damp
old props, that cracked under his weight against
it.

“ Look to Brewer!” shouted the inspector. “ Catch
him,—he has fainted! God, it is enough to make
him faint! Quick, boys! Back to the basket; there
is no more mystery to be solved down here, and the
man must have air.”

They supported the tottering form back to the rude
basket by which they had descended. He who had
borne a burden almost unbearable for ten weary
years —a burden of shame, and of sorrow and injus-
tice — found it impossible to bear up under the sud-
den, sharp relief.

The people above had waited as patiently as pos-
sible for the signal that should announce the return
of the men from the old mine. When it came, they
began to pull upon the rope with eager impatience.
Those of the crowd nearest the opening fell back
when the dead, colourless face of Old Despair appeared.
But when they found that he had only fainted, they
102 HERO-CHUMS.

drew him out, supporting him with their arms until
he could speak.

And all the while others were telling the strange,
sad story of the old Lodge’s secrets. Verily, the little
village had never known such excitement; not even
the day of the accident, for on that day the people
had merely sat with white, scared faces, dumb with
the horror of it, or else whispering each other bitterly
concerning the dangers of the miner’s life. But this
new thing that had come to pass had something of a
jubilee about it.

Even old Nan understood something of the wonder.
She slid from the rock upon which she had perched,
and made her way to Mr. Brewer, who had recovered
from his swoon and was staring about him, searching
for a face among that multitude of faces. The old
woman clutched at his sleeve, her old face aglow.

« Brewer,” she whispered; “Brewer, I say, did
you find my Tom down there? Does he know I
waited breakfast two days? Two days, Brewer. O
Lord! And it was stone cold as the dead. Did you
tell him? Does he know I have waited a hundred
years for him? Hey? Did you find him, I say,
Brewer ?”

But the miner had thought but for one at that
moment. He pushed the old woman aside and made
his way to Mr. Weston, who had moved aside when
the basket made its appearance.

“ It’s clear, sir,” he said.

And for the first time since he had known him, the
SECRETS. 103

superintendent detected something like happiness in
the face of Old Despair as he announced the restora-
tion of his character. Not a word, not a thought for
the suffering and injustice which nothing could ever
set right. He only remembered that his name and
the names of his two sons bore no stain. Clear!
Before the world clear, as they had ever been before
the eye of God.

The superintendent extended his hand.

“I know,” he said. “ Yes, it is all clear at last.
The inspector has told me all about it, and I am
heartily glad for you. Yours has been a heavy bur-
den; heavier than usually falls to the lot of mortals.
No wonder you despaired. What is it? You wish
to speak to Mr. Baldwyn? Here he is, ready, along
with the whole village, to congratulate you, I am
sure.”

But instead of taking the hand extended, Brewer
placed in it the old leathern wallet.

“The dead sent it back,” he said. “It belongs to
the company.”

Seeing the look which came into the face of the
careful and exacting president, the superintendent
turned and looked up at the bluff where John had
stood two hours before, when the basket went down.
There he was still, clinging to the hand of the patient
Susan. Mr. Weston took out his handkerchief and
shook it three times. The signal was immediately
answered by three vigorous tosses of the little cap.

The superintendent smiled.
104 HERO-CHUMS.

“ There,” he said, “I have just told John you are
all right. We had arranged our signals, you see.
You will have few friends to rejoice more sincerely
than he.”

The old miner, that strange, rapt expression still
on his face, turned to the bluff. The child still stood
there, a tiny dash of colour against the fair sky.
The old man bared his head, gave his hat a wave,
which was promptly recognised, and then the little
chair was drawn up a trifle nearer. Susan lifted the
cripple into his cushions, and the superintendent’s
son, assured of his old friend’s safety, allowed him-
self to be wheeled home.

He was very tired ; almost exhausted, indeed. The
dainty face lying against the crimson cushions — for
he had submitted when Susan suggested tucking “a
pillow under the pretty head, Master John, just for
luck ; luck to your old friend, Mr. Brewer ’’ — was so
delicately white the girl felt uneasy lest he had over-
taxed his strength. But it was only a moment before
he roused up to say:

“ Oh, how ever will I wait to hear what was in the
old mine? I wonder if he truly found the skeckel-
tons. They disappeared that black, black night of
the freshup, when the Chattanooga Belle went down,
down, down —”

‘The fair head sank deeper and deeper among the
silken cushions; the childish lips were parted in a
smile. The boy was fast asleep.

The sun had set when the last loitering steps
SECRETS. 105

turned from the old mine. They had hung about the
place all day, half fearing, in their ignorant way,
that the earth would spring another trap, closing a
second time upon its iron treasure. Then, too, they
wondered what else of wonder the old sepulchre
might contain. They were prepared for anything,
and they feared to leave, expecting other revelations.
CHAPTER VII.
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE.

HE old Lodge had yielded up her secrets at last.

At last the day ended and the villagers went

home. It was a break, at all events, in the monotony

of their lives, and would give them something to

think upon, those in the shacks, beside the tub and
the frying-pan.

Only a streak of glaring crimson, shot with amber
and dull purple, stretched like a great sheet above the
dark cedars crowning the heights of the more distant
mountains, remained of the day’s brilliance. An event-
ful day, the afterglow of its setting would remain
when the day was done; like the afterglow of that
sunset, brightening and recolouring lives from which
all colour had faded.

The last lagging steps were going. They paused
a moment while their owner studied for a space that
last bright flash of the afterglow. How typical of his
own life, his own sun, set for ever. He sighed; he
was still Old Despair. Around him the gloom of the
twilight, and the shadows from the purple pines of

sorrow, with this one great dash of light, the after-
106
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 107

glow that had come from the tomb of despair with
the secrets of the old Lodge. He sighed, and again
turned towards the shacks behind the village. It
was late; but late as it was, there were childish foot-
steps hurrying after him, and upon the twilight still-
ness sounded the last of the strange, eventful day’s
congratulations.

“Dear old chum! It’s only John, sir. Mother said
I mustn’t stop to ’trude upon your thoughts to-night,
sir; but she said I might give you my hand and you
would understand what it meant. And there it is,
sir; a little harder, please, sir, and good night, sir.
Good night, my old friend. My hero — after —”

He was calling back his good night as he went
up the tall steps, intent upon obedience to the com-
mand “not to stop his friend longer than to shake
hands,” yet too full of the day’s wonders to trust
himself while his old friend responded to his
greeting.

“ My hero — after —” Galileo seemed a very insig-
nificant personage by comparison. “I must ask father
for another,” he said, as he pushed the iron gate into
its place and went into the cottage. “I must ask for
another, now that it’s-all over.”

But was it “all over,’ indeed? Verily, life would
have sweet ending with such grand climaxes for the
amen. But fate was not done with the old miner.
God never sends us sorrow merely that he may wipe
our tears away, but that our lives, softened and sub-
dued, strengthened and purified, may impart colour
108 HERO-CHUMS.

and finish to other lives. And so I say, he was not
done with the old miner.

An hour later, when the “books of the heroes”
had been opened, John suddenly turned to his
mother.

“Mother dear,” said he, “I gave Mr. Brewer my
hero-ring, to-day.”

Mrs. Weston’s tone expressed some surprise when
she asked :

«“ Were you not a little premature, my son?”

«‘ What is premature, mother ?”

“ Why, a little fast —”

“No, I wasn’t. Reuben did have to run with it,
but that was because the basket was ready to go
down.”

“Mrs. Weston smiled.

“ You don’t quite understand, dearie,”’ she said.
“JT meant to ask if your old friend has fully estab-
lished a claim to heroism. He has suffered, but has
he done anything ?”

“ Mother!” Oh, the pained surprise.

“JT would have my boy’s ideal correct, as well as
noble,” was the calm, quiet answer. ‘A hero is one
who acts as well as feels and endures.”

Mr. Weston placed his finger between the pages
of the book he was preparing to read, and listened.

“ But, mother,” said John, “isn’t there any hero in
the books who just — endured?”

“J don’t recall one, dear.”
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 109

“Surely there must be; think again, mother. Na-
poleon was a soldier hero. Achilles, a lagination
hero. Galileo, a thermomoscope hero. Socrates, a
philosopher hero, and Henry Clay, a statesman hero.
But there must be one who just suffered like a — like
a — hero.”

“T do not remember such a one, dearie.”’

“ Mother!” Mr. Weston laid his book upon the
table. “I think you have forgotten. There is a hero
such as he describes. One who ‘was despised and
rejected of men.”

John clapped his hands with delight.

“Oh, I knew there must be,” he declared. «You
forgot, mother dear. Was he always sad, father ?”

«¢ A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.’ ”

“ Badly treated ?”

“¢Spit upon and reviled.’”

« And suffered so much ?”

“So much that drops of blood stood upon his
temples.”

“That is like my hero. And didn’t he say a word,
father?”

“Yes; he said, ‘Father, forgive them; they know
not what they do.’”

The child’s face became gravely thoughtful.

“ Father,” said he, “I think you mean our Sa-
viour.”

“Yes, my son; the greatest hero the world ever
saw. And mother,’ he continued, “I am not sure
that our.son is wrong in believing that he has discov-
110. HERO-CHUMS.

ered something of the spirit of Christ in our long-suf-
fering old neighbour.”

He resumed his book; at the same moment the fates
turned another page in the life-book of Old Despair.

The bells tolled all day in the village, as if in apol-
ogy, a kind of belated respect to the untolled dead in
the old mine. They were atoning, were the bells, for
their ten years’ silence.

All day and far into the night; long after the poor
bones had been gathered together and laid reverently
away in the village burying-ground.

The works shut down for the day; even the great
furnace, that huge necessity that is no respecter even
of the Sabbath, but blazes right up in the face of the
Almighty, even there, for once, the fires were smoth-
ered and the men given a holiday, out of respect to the
dead miners — a, respect that came late, but was none
the less sincere. All day the bells tolled, -and far
into the night. And then the bells ceased tolling ;
the dead were dead; and life, and time, and circum-
stance moved on, with that pitiless sweep which has
taught us to say, “How soon forgotten;” but which
is, indeed, Necessity’s lash, which urges on, forbidding
humanity to pause, even to mourn its dead. “Let
the dead bury their dead;” the command of the
Nazarene still rings in the ears of the bereaved.

“Let the dead bury their dead,’ says Necessity ;
look thou to the living; there are babes to succour,
children to clothe, wives to care for. Let the dead
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 111

bury their dead; and the dead alone are sure. And
so the old earth received her dead. Old Nan wept
above the grave of her boy, “decently buried” at
‘last. The sod fell again to its place, and the pulse of
the great world returned to its old quick throbbing.

Autumn passed into winter; winter melted into
spring. Another winter yet, and yet another spring,
and the village on the Tennessee moved on to pros-
perity. Long ago a branch arm of the railroad had
reached out to help her. And now a boom, they said,
was about to strike her. A pipe factory was already
at work. New hands were flocking in; another row
of shacks went up, and another sawmill had been
built, so great was the demand for lumber. “Hoe
and Tool Works,” said a sign across the way, and
behind the English houses, further up the mountain,
jaunty little nests were built, called “ summer homes.”

But the strangest news was that of the great block-
ade, the Shoals. Congress had decreed. they should be
opened, and had made, at last, an appropriation for
the improvement of the river, so that navigation
might be without interruption. Once before an
appropriation had been made, but for the upper
waters, when the Hoeston, one of the river’s chief
tributaries, had dropped its old name and become the
Tennessee also, in order to reap the benefit, in part,
of the government’s gift. But the new appropriation
was for the Shoals alone; a passage was to be opened
“ plumb clear to the Ohio.”

Across the valley, where the shrewd capitalists had
112 HERO-CHUMS.

run their eye, the surveyor’s chain had crossed; and
a line of stakes run diagonally across the valley
showed where the new railroad — not a branch road
this time — was to open up the coal and iron business °
with the world beyond the mountain. And at a meet-
ing held some time previous to the surveying for the
new road the old T. I. C. had died, so to speak, and
in its stead was born the great Tennessee Coal
and Iron Company, to-day that same mighty “mo-
nopoly”? which long ago took the reins, and has
driven the State of Tennessee into prominence and
prosperity.

Mr. Weston was still superintendent, and was full
of enthusiasm, and of faith in the future of the little
town which had dropped its old misleading name of
Slipup, and appeared upon the new map and charter
of the new city company, as South Pittsburg, the.
garden spot of the Sequatchie valley. ;

To Old Despair alone the improvements and excite-
ment brought neither interest nor rejoicing. The
work of improving the river caused him no little
uneasiness.

“ Better let her be,” he advised, “as God A’mighty
made her. Digging out shoals that he has planted
looks mightily like tellin’ of the Lord as his work
ain’t done right. Better let her be; better let the
Tennessee alone.”

“A cracked mind,” they began to say of him, but
since the opening of the old Lodge they had never
thought of him in the old distrustful way, that is
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 113

perhaps natural, with which they had been wont to
regard the ex-convict. To know that a man has
been a thief or a murderer, and been punished for it,
makes him always a thief and a murderer ; an object
of scorn, doubt; a creature to be watched and avoided.
Public opinion never forgives a crime against society.
But to have been unjustly punished, wrongly accused,
ah! that is the only antidote for that unconquerable
old poison, disgrace. That makes a hero where had
been (in the public mind) a felon. The old arrow is
plucked from the wound, and the public offers its lips
to draw away the poison.

So they changed regarding Old Despair. He was
still an oddity, they remembered that, but there was
“no harm in him.” No harm in him, because it
had been proven that he had never been guilty of
criminal offence. And the law of society, like the
civil law, admits a man harmless, innocent, until it
proves him otherwise.

“Old Despair is failing,’ they said; “trouble has
cracked his brain.”

One day it was noised about that he was building a
boat.

“Maybe he’s lookin’ for a flood, like old Noay,”
they said. And wise old heads were shaken sorrow-
fully, while their owners lamented that “ Old Despair
was goin’ tolerable fast.” :

The boat was only a canoe, a kind of dugout,
scooped from the trunk of big poplar; yet to the
village folk the little poplar canoe possessed more of
114 HERO-CHUMS.

the tragic than the gopher-wood vessel of the world’s
first great navigator, “old Noay.”

But the old miner worked on after mining hours,
for he still had his job there, when the glare from
the great furnace supplied him with light after the
sun went down behind the mountain.

The old fellow had grown more silent, more moody
and distrustful. Distrustful of his fellow men, who
had distrusted him, and more than ever distrustful
of the river, that great flood sweeping past the fur-
nace, and the village farther down in the lowland.

His thought turned again towards the little white
schoolhouse so dangerously near to the low, brown
bank. His chum, his “very old friend,’ from the
company’s house, had entered there as a pupil. For
the boy was growing stronger, and, as a matter of
policy, rather than one of necessity, he was enrolled
among the pupils of the village school. The people
rather expected it, and John wished it; so for the
two hours of the afternoon session each day he was
at school, following, as he firmly believed, in the foot-
steps of the heroes.

He was “ mother’s man” now, and two more years
had been added to the dear little life since he sat with
his “very dearest friend and chum,” at the sixth
mile-post dinner. His friendship for the old miner
had never faltered; they were the same old confiden-
tial chums who talked in the shack while the sun
hurried to the tip, of the “dark, dark night,” the
Chattanoogy Belle, and that never uninteresting topic,
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 115

the old Lodge mine. They did not forget the river,
either; how could they, with the boats still passing,
and navigation “about to open up plumb clear to the
Ohio!”

There was one thing, however, troubled the younger
friend; he was growing, slowly, to be sure, but grow-
ing too large to ride upon the old horse, “ next to the
left ear.”

“Do you think people will laugh at me?” he asked
his old friend one day.

“ Not a single smile, Master John,” was the reply.
“And if they do? Who cares?”

And then, his old bitterness getting control of him,
«They laughs mighty easy,’ he said. “They laughed
at ole Noay, and they laughed at Jesus Christ him-
self. The world’s given to laughin’, Master John,
but it neither helps nor hinders by it, as I can make
out.”

“T shouldn’t like them to think me a baby, sir,”
said John, “and I thought maybe if they saw the
crutch, you know, they would understand. It is not
because I am too little to walk, sir, but because of
the twisted foot. It won’t go far, you know, but I
thought maybe people wouldn’t understand unless
they happened to remember the crutch.”

«“ They’ll remember, Master John,” said Brewer ;
“Tm sure they'll understand.”

“Tm glad you think so, sir. Father is going to
buy me a pony for next mile-post day; a sure-enough
pony, though I don’t believe it will ride any better
116 HERO-CHUMS.

than my first old horse, sir. And anyhow, I shall
never have a horse that I love half as well. Never.
Not if I had Alexander the Great’s own Bucephalus.
He is in the hero books, too, along with his rider.
He was a horse hero, I reckon. Father read about
him last night, and asked me how I would like to
trade steeds with Mr. Alexander the Great. I didn’t
care to trade. I wouldn’t trade you off for anybody’s
horse, my old friend.”

“Umph!” said Old Despair. “ Wait till you’ve
done with the book V’arnin’, you'll get at the white
schoolhouse, then see if you ain’t got a better eye to
business, Master John. Just wait till then, sir; you
ain’t quite old enough to know a good animal yet.
Just wait a bit.”

For John had already entered school now. The
first day he had disappeared over the hill, wheeled by
the faithful, Susan, Old Despair had set to work to
build his boat.

“1711 come handy, bimeby,” he said.

But the village folk said, “ Old Despair’s clean gone
crazy.”

And so he might have done if bustle and excite-
ment and noise could drive men mad. Everything
seemed topsy-turvy. He thought of it as he fastened
his canoe half a mile above the company’s landing
one afternoon, and started down street towards the
shacks.

“ Somethin’s goin’ to happen,” he grunted. “Tye
been thinkin’ o’ that little water-devil, the Chatt’noogy
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 117

Belle, all day. It'll fetch bad luck unly to think of
her; it allus did. She was allus a bird o’ bad omen.
I jest know somethin’s goin’ to happen.”

And something did happen; something that hap-
pened every time he passed down the street, for that
matter, yet a something which seemed never to grow
commonplace or unwelcome. A little crutch sounded
upon the pavement; the iron gate clicked into place
as a little figure appeared at the “top step” of the
superintendent’s gate.

“Qh,” cried the familiar voice; “Mr. Brewer!
Wait a moment! It’s only me, sir; your old friend
John. I’m very glad to see you, sir, and I have
waited a long time for you. Did you forget it was
Saturday? And are you glad to see me?”

« Aye, aye, little master; mighty glad I am, sir.”

And the free hand of the cripple was slipped into
the brown palm of the miner, and the two old friends
“shook hands” in splendid cordiality.

« And will you trot me down to the landing to see
the boats come in with the government truck you
told me they were digging out of the water with picks,
and powder, and dynamite? And won’t you tell me
some more about the fishes and fozzles the old gentle-
man geologer told me were older than auntie Luvins ?
I didn’t plumb clear understand all that about auntie
Luvins, but I think it meant the fozzles and fishes
might be most as old as Methuselah his own self.
I'd like to have seen him. He must have been a
very wise man, he lived so long. He was a very old
118 ‘ HERO-CHUMS.

man, I know; the very oldest that ever lived on this
earth, sir. And, Mr. Brewer, I don’t quite under-
stand it, but Susan says — Susan knows a great deal
— that ‘Methuselah died before his daddy.’ Do you
think he could, Mr. Brewer, and still be the oldest
man? You know, those were days of rizacles, and I
thought this might be some kind of a rizacle, too ;
like raising up the dead, and making water turn red
into wine, and walking on the water and not go ‘ down,
down, down,’ like the Chattanooga Belle. -Do you
s’pose Methuselah could have been a rizacle?”

Old Despair had lifted the slight figure up to its
familiar place “next to the left ear,’ and they were,
as John expressed it, quietly “trotting” down to a
favourite spot on the low bank below the furnace and
in excellent range of the river, down whose still, broad
bosom traffic was passing to and fro; for the river
had become a kind of competition line for freight
against the railroad, and compensated for tardy travel
with cheap rates, so that there was but little if any
diminution in her trade. ‘True, the coal-barges had
long since ceased to travel, for the company had built
the railroad for the especial purpose of shipping its
coal and iron into competition with the Northern
market. The company was thriving, verily. Yet
the old Tennessee held its own, with government
aid.

The old man had found it rather embarrassing to
attempt to follow his young friend when he dived into
the “hero books” for the wonderful lives and sayings

\


THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 119

of the philosophers. But when he dropped into the
plainer teachings of the Bible, the old man could
always “join in the conversation.” Kven upon the
perplexing subject of “rizacles” he felt perfectly at
home, and to the boy’s question about Methuselah he
replied very promptly that he thought it might be
called a “ maracle,” and again it might not. “ Seein’
as his daddy never died at all, Master John, but was
just carried up alive, sir.”

“Oh!”

It was plain enough. Yet he couldn’t help feeling
that Susan had played him some kind of a trick, al-
though she had only said, to be sure, that “ Methuse-
lah died before his daddy.”

“Mr. Brewer,’ said John, after a moment of
thoughtful silence, “old friends like us can talk real
plain to each other?”

“ Aye, sir, that they can; just as we are goin’ to
talk when the old horse climbs to that big, whitish
rock you see up yonder overtoppin’ the river, sir.
That is a first-rate lookout, Master Johnny.”

“Oh, just John, if you please, sir. Father says
plain boys with just plain names are the ones who
oftenest envelope into heroes. I should like to envel-
ope into a hero. Wouldn’t you?”

“Tt would be mighty nice, I reckin,” said the old
man. “It’s a little like caterpillars turnin’ into but-
terflies, I reckin; or little tadpoles changin’ into
frogs.”

“TI s’pose so,” said John, “but I reckon it’s —
120 HERO-CHUMS.

it's—” The comparison seemed scarcely dignified
enough. “I reckon it’s a little more so. Don’t you,
Mr. Brewer ?”

“It might be some like the little mountain brook
that swells up into the river, if that would do. A
river is a mighty big thing, Master John.”

“ So it is,’ said John. “ Wait a minute.”

The old horse had struck into rather too brisk a
trot for the young rider he was carrying. “Not
quite so fast,’ cried John. “Not quite so fast, my
old friend. I’m not a baby; I’m a little man now,
you know, but I might top over if you go too fast.
I know some heroes who topped over. Socrates, I
think it was, topped into a ditch once, and an old wo-
man pulled him out. I reckon he got in again, though,
because last night, when father took out the hero
book, Mr. Baldwyn, who was there, said, ‘Give us
Socrates in the last ditch.” Shove me up, just a lit-
tle, sir. There! Vm comferbler and comferbler.
And oh, here is the bluff, and yonder are the loaded
flatboats ; waiting for a rise, I s’pose. Easy me down,
and sit right here where we can be confidential. It’s
more like men, you know, and friends.”

So they sat and talked until the sun went down;
the boy’s hand seeking now and then the old man’s
knee, while he, smiling and listening with that rapt
attention the old and childless often give to the guile-
less prattle of children, would tenderly stroke the tiny
fingers; until the sun dropped behind the mountain,
and the shadows began to creep across the river.
THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 121

Suddenly John bounded to his feet with an excla-
mation of distress.

“Oh!” he cried. “The sun has plumb clear passed
the tip mark. And you know what it means: ‘ Time’s
up, John; home, sir; mother watching.’ So, if you
will please to make my horse; sir, and— Wait!
What is that? Is it a big black shadow coming up
the Tennessee? What is it—that big black thing
that looks like a house with the house part all torn
off? Its coming right up the river. Look! Oh,
look! It must be gover’ment truck.”

Quivering with excitement, he clapped his hands
and pointed down the river, where a great, black
mass, almost indistinguishable in the uncertain light,
was slowly coming up the Tennessee. The old miner
strained his eyes until he could make out the outlines _
of a large flatboat, upon which was resting a black
mass that looked like the ruins of an old boat. There
was a broken bow, pointed shoreward, the remnant
of a tiny cabin still clinging by the rotted timbers and
rusted bolt. And this moving mass, this pitiable
wreck coming in upon the shadow-girt river, — could
this be the return of the Chattanooga Belle? The
dainty little thing that had hovered like a light bird
upon the water, the pet of her young captain and the
pride of poor Dave Brewer. Verily, the Tennessee
had dealt hardly with the pretty toy entrusted to its
keeping. After a ten years’ cruise among the shells
and fishes where the storm had driven her, after hav-
ing driven her to pieces, she had come back. Come as
122 HERO-CHUMS.

“ government truck.” The low water, the lowest ever
known to the Tennessee, when the steamboats were
held captive, and the barges themselves and the flat-
boats could scarcely run, had exposed the shattered
old Belle and piloted the men employed to work upon
the great obstruction, the Shoals, to where she had
sunk just ten feet from the bank. So tiny was she
that her very size had served to hide her for ten years,
and that almost within reach of any hand that might
have been extended from the bank. So she came
back to them, like little children sent out too early
from the home nest come back, beaten and bruised
and torn by the storm they were too frail to contend
with.

The old man’s heart stood still when the weird
wreck was brought up to its old, familiar landing.
There was a solemn mockery in the strange home-
coming. The black mass swayed and bowed as the
curious villagers came flocking down to the landing,
like a covey of blackbirds in the half light; some
laughing, some moved to tears, and all with the one
surprise upon their lips:

“The Chattanoogy Belle!”

Verily, “God and the old Tennessee were indeed
making it plain” for the old man who had waited ten
years for the secrets of the earth and flood.

The crowd gathered around the wreek with wonder,
not unmixed with awe. Lanterns flashed again in
the little yacht where, ten years before, the lights
went out and down into the Tennessee.


“¢LOOK, OH, LOOK, MR. BREWER!’”



THE CHATTANOOGA BELLE. 125

There were no skeletons tucked away to offer their
silent testimony, as in the case of the old Lodge.
Only that skeleton of the once jaunty little boat; yet
no other was needed. The boat had gone down, that
was certain. Such a tiny little craft she was; her
size had indeed dug her sepulchre, for a larger vessel
never could have hidden so completely under the wa-
ters of the fickle Tennessee. Captain and friend had
gone down, too; no doubt of that. They were still
sleeping somewhere on the bed of the river. Would
the government bring them back, also? Would they,
too, come “ sailing into port” before the work of «im-
proving the Tennessee”’ should have been completed ?
Had the old, yellow current determined at last to give
up her dead, and to “make clear” in this, “her own
good time,” the mysteries of her unexplored deeps ?
CHAPTER VIII.
SAFE IN THE ARMS.

ITH the return of spring and the waking of

nature came the rains. The dwellers of the
hills huddled together in their cabins and prepared
to shiver, they declared, “fur six solid weeks hand
gwine.” They were acquainted with the weather
and its tricks.

“The rainy season have set in,” they said, “ then
ull come the blackberry winter, an’ then hit’ll come
summer.”

So they prepared for the desolate season, in their
grim way, prefacing the preparation with a half
sombre, half comical, “ Good Laud derliv’r us from
the rainy spell.”

It came first, as it always came, in showers; gentle
and caressing; soothing the dull earth into peace, and
coaxing the frozen fields into warmth. Anon came
the tempest, and the dwellers of the hills peered from
their cabin windows to exclaim :

“Der Laud A’mighty! but the yellimints air takin’
on; they air kerryin’ on mightily.”

And when the tempest had spent itself, there came
another change; that fearful, frightful thing they
had dreaded.

126
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 127

They closed their batten blinds, and huddled them-
selves together over the heaps of white ashes in the
great fireplaces, and prayed, with motionless lips, for
the dwellers in the valley during the terrible flood-
time.

Yes, it was the season of the overflows; the brooks
and mountain’s torrents were full, brimful of fury
it might have been.

The Tennessee, that great drain and reservoir,
began to grow restless. Down in the lowlands she
was creeping across the brown fields. And from
the western portion of the State, news came that
she had backed the waters of Duck and Buffalo
over the “Big Bottom,” that magnificent stretch of
valley known as the great corn-field of Tennessee.
And she was still pushing on, carrying everything
before her; on, up to the very doors of the farm-
houses, some of them set four, five, and six miles
from the main body of the river.

But at Slipup, that had been the mining town in
the valley, all was serene. The yellow tide was only
a few feet beyond its banks; for the bed of the stream
is deep in the pretty mountain pass; and the “ quar-
ter stretch” of land between the river and the town
was a protection. Before it crossed that there would
be time to reach the higher country if it should
become necessary to flee.

There could be no danger whatever to the row
of English houses; they stood secure enough on the
slope of the first bench of the mountain, even should
128 HERO-CHUMS.

the valley be flooded. It was the shacks and the
mines, the miners and their families, that were in
danger. The rich were safe enough; the rich are
always safe. It is the poor who are for ever in
danger; in danger of every kind, moral as well as
physical; it is the poor always who must flee for
their lives. And so the poor of the town on the
Tennessee were in danger; but so long as it was
only the poor, nobody marvelled. The rich were at
ease. Atease? Well, the fate of the railroad had,
to be sure, troubled them somewhat. That was in
danger. It might be necessary to run the loaded
freights out and weight the track, so that it would
not be swept away. They set watchmen to guard
it, and give the alarm in case of real danger. There
was a watchman keeping guard upon the shacks,
where the poor were congregated; but the great
company did not set him there. He appointed him-
self their guardian, and that before ever the earth
was formed or the floods brought forth. The com-
pany made sure of its railroad. After that the old
Tennessee might lash, and plunge, and tear. Prog-
ress was safe, and pig-iron in no danger.

Nobody was afraid; even the poor themselves did
not understand that they were in danger.

Only Old Despair, with his customary caution, and
his horror, a horror born of that most relentless of
all mothers, — experience of sudden floods, — kept an
eye upon the treacherous current.

Several times each day he examined his dugout,
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 129

tucked away in a jungle of laurel far down the
bank. Every day he found it necessary to drag
the boat a trifle higher up, until at last he drew
it entirely out of the water, and fastened it securely
to a poplar sapling that was beyond the line of any
rise ever known in the Tennessee.

Three days the village people saw him going to
and from the covert where he- had hidden his boat.
Some laughed, but for the most part they were sorry
for him.

“Poor Old Despair,” they said, “his troubles have
surely cracked his brain.”

And all the while the yellow tide was creeping
slowly up, eating into the brown banks, higher and
still higher. And all the while the mountain
streams were filling; filling themselves full of fury,
slowly, slowly. Then the Clinch began to overflow,
and to rush down into the Tennessee. Then the
Tennessee reached out its yellow tongue towards
the quarter stretch, lapping, lapping, like a dog,
at the easy valley; then the loaded freights went
out to weight and save the railroad track.

That afternoon Brewer unfastened his canoe, and
went up the river. It was hard pulling, but the drift
was not heavy as yet, and he was used to the water
in all its moods. He was on the watch for danger ;
verily, he was like some bird of night, — watching
while others slept. Experience had made him care-
ful, doubtful. He would distrust the old Tennessee
for ever.
130 HERO-CHUMS.

Half a mile out he met a raftsman coming down,
who called to him that-the Clinch was out of its
banks.

“ Out of its banks and comin’ down the valley like
all possessed.”

The Clinch was coming down Powell’s valley to the
Tennessee.

“On a reg’lar tear,” shouted the raftsman. “ An’
sweepin’ everthing as she comes. Comin’ like a yel-
low tiger, straight at the Tennessee.”

Old Despair turned his canoe down-stream. It
was not quite dark when he pulled her past the brown
bank, if the slight elevation might be called a bank,
upon which stood the pretty little schoolhouse.

In the uncertain light it had a weird appearance.
To his distorted fancy it seemed some great white
bird, some spirit of prophecy, hovering with outspread
wings upon the swift, dark flood.

The old man shook his head, as he dipped his oar
into the water.

“Too nigh,” he muttered, “too nigh. It’s a slap
in the face o’? Providence. But I have got my eye
on to you, you pretty bird you. I’m a-watchin’. Old
Brewer ain’t goin’ to see you skeered off’n your nest
without liftin’ a hand to help you. Old Despair’s got
his eyes open. Old Despair is a-watchin’.”

And the little boat passed by in the darkness.

The next day he kept “an eye” on the children,
crowded about the windows at morn and noon, wav-
ing their hands and shouting to the tawny current
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 131

that rose higher and higher, until they could have
spoken to a boatman going by, had there been one
daring enough to brave the logs and rubbish sweeping
and swirling and twisting in the fierce current.

Logs! They had never seen so many, and there
were some that did not resemble rafts, although
lashed together, and the children did not understand,
until a cabin floated by, that what they had supposed
to be broken rafts were the ruins of some poor woods-
man’s home.

There were doors, fences, furniture, a dog’s kennel,
and a coop with one old red rooster lustily crowing
for help from the tallest perch he could reach.

How they shouted and laughed at the “funny
things” the Tennessee was collecting, and wondered,
still laughing, “if the river was going to set up to
housekeeping.”

But when a little cot floated by, with a dead baby
lying upon it, they turned from the window with
white, scared faces, and, sobbing, begged to be allowed
to go home.

The teacher quieted them with the assurance that
if the water reached a certain point along the bank,
they should go. It reached the line and went beyond
it in fifteen minutes. It was almost impossible to
control the now thoroughly frightened children, so
many objects had floated by in the sweep of the mer-
ciless current.

Then a prolonged shout from the village told that
some new terror was afoot. In a moment they under-
182 HERO-CHUMS.

stood what it was; and with a simultancous cry they
sprang to their feet.

“ She’s broke her bank! She’s out! She’s out!”

And with one consent they sprang for the door. In
three seconds the building was empty, save for one
little figure, sitting with hands clasped, and pale lips,
dumb with a terrible fear, where all had forgotten
him. Even the little crutch seemed to have forsaken
him, for it lay half-way across the room, far beyond
the reach of his fingers.

Before he had time to fully comprehend his dan-
ger, there was a lurch, a fearful rocking, and a great
jar, that sent the child forward to the floor, upon his
hands and knees, while one corner of the schoolhouse
slipped from its foundation.

There was small use for the crutch amid all that
jarring, even if he could have reached it. Frightened
and helpless, John clung to the bench until he could
steady himself upon the one little foot that would
bear his weight. Then he hesitated, afraid to climb
to his seat again lest he again should be thrown from it.

With his hands clutching the rude bench, he dragged
himself to the window and climbed up into it. The
window from which, only a moment before, he had
laughed with the others at the “funny things” go-
ing by.

But after one short, quick glance at the water he
turned his face away and pressed his fingers down
over his eyes. They were dry, those brave little hero
eyes, but the voice was choked which said :
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 133

“Oh, mother, why don’t Susan come? The yellow
water is indeed all around the house, and the others
are all gone home.”

And creeping nearer, and ever nearer it came;
crawled like a yellow snake under the door; then a
tiny stream trickled across the floor, and the little
crutch was no longer visible. John uttered a sharp
scream of terror when the cold stream touched his tiny
shoe ; the next instant he slapped his hand upon his
lips, saying under his breath :

“Indeed, I did not mean to cry out. But oh,
mother, did you forget to send Susan? The heroes
in the books didn’t cry, only Alexander. But I am
such a little hero, and a boy —even if he is a little
man — don’t like to be forgotten. Oh, mother dear,
did you forget?”

Poor little hero! Could he have seen the hurried
preparations and the agonised despair when Susan,
who had been despatched for him, ran back with the
terrible news that the water had cut off the road to
the schoolhouse! It was only a moment before that
the frightened children had come running into the
village, the tide at their very heels. It was then,
when the fearful freshet was upon them in all its sud-
den terror, that the villagers truly undcrstood their
danger and comprehended in full that which the river
had done.

The bursting of the bank had opened the flood-gates
upon them,—the bank so confidently relied upon.
The treacherous current had hissed its scorn at the
184 HERO-CHUMS.

crumbling earth as it broke through its puny grasp.
And it was hissing through the little schoolhouse
where the poor little captive sat, crouched upon the
window-sill, the little twisted foot drawn up scarcely
beyond the ugly foam that seemed reaching out to lap
it into the brown pool below. And for company, that
cruel doubt of having been forgotten.

The tears did come then; fear had been powerless
to dim the brave eyes, but doubt had triumphed over
heroism. Only for a moment, however. He dashed
off the bitter drops, and faith mounted to her old
place in his heart. He looked the hideous death be-
fore him full in the face; no hero ever faced it more
divinely, and the sweet, childish voice rang out trium-
phantly, a challenge to dark despair.

“JT know you did not forget, mother dear, I know
it! I know it, even if the yellow water carries me
plumb clear off, like the little baby that my chum told
me about, the baby that laughed and dropped into the
Tennessee. It’s all right, mother dear. I know it is
all right, because it is you.”

He had climbed to a bench when the house ceased
to rock, not wishing to see the mighty flood without.
When the water rose to the bench, he climbed to the
teacher’s desk, that stood within his reach. But now
he crawled back on to the window-sill and turned his
face bravely towards the village and the row of English
houses. He was no longer afraid, although the water
came nearer and nearer. The little feet were lost in
the whitish foam, but the sweet face looked ever
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 185

towards the village. “I want to keep the house in
sight plumb to the last,” he said. And now and then
he whispered softly, “ Dear, dear mother.”

It seemed a long, long time; in reality it had not
been half an hour that he had waited. Once he
thought he was nodding, and he smiled, it seemed
so queer and unreal. Then he roused up again and
remembered, and shivered. He strained his eyes to-
wards the village, and tried to recall the heroes, and
to remember one who had met danger bravely. But
the only one that came to him was the one who had
walked the sea and rebuked the angry old Galilee.

Suddenly a great wave bounded up and slapped the
spray into his face, and when his eyes were clear
again he gave a wild cry of joy and held out his
arms. Coming straight across the water, tumbled
and tossed by the swift, mad current, was the little
canoe, bearing the dear old friend, whose gray, griz-
zled head, rising above the yellow waters, was the
blessedest, best sight the baby eyes had ever rested
upon.

“Mr. Brewer, oh, Mr. Brewer! I’m so glad to see
you, sir. Mother told me sure not to go till Susan
came. And I’m just awful tired being a man; and
the water has wetted my clothes and my feet, and I’m
sure I was frightened. I most know I was, until I
saw your head coming up the river. And I’m so
glad, so plumb, clear glad to see you, sir!”

He never once ceased talking until the little boat
came alongside the window, and, holding fast to her
186 HERO-CHUMS.

chain, the old man steadied himself against the win-
dow-sill to rest a moment.

The boy laughed aloud; every sign of fear was
gone.

“J did try to be a man, sir; but Susan didn’t come,
and the water chased me so fast, sir.”’

“ Aye, aye,” said the old man. “I know, I know.
It came so sudden, that break in the bank, that Susan
found the road covered. And the father wasn’t home;
he was down to the furnace; and I met the little
mother running straight after you herself, — straight
todes that yellow death, little master, as I war
a-startin’. An’ I says to her, ‘Go back home, mis-
tress. Ill fetch my old friend, Master John, safe to
you, else I'll never come back.’ But some un had
moved the boat, else ’'d been here sooner, sir. An’
we mustn’t stop here to talk, with the house ready to
float off any minute, an’ the folks all waitin’ on the
banks below. Come.”

He held out his arms and nodded towards the yel-
low flood.

“Out there? Oh, sir!”

«“ But then, little master, we ben’t afeard, we two
together ; an’ the mother waitin’ —”’

There was a lurch, a crash, a crumbling jar, and
John sprang into the extended arms as the little
schoolhouse left her moorings, and was swept, upon
her side, into the main current of the river, where she
was borne down, ruin amidst ruins, towards the watch-
ers upon the higher and safer bank.
SAFE IN THE ARMS. 137

The little boat was sent scudding out into the
stream ; the oar was twisted from the old man’s hand
and carried away almost before he knew it was gone.
The helpless little canoe went drifting on with the
other ruins, —logs, rails, and what not threatening
its speedy destruction.

There was no earthly hope of landing it; the chance
of rescue lay alone in the crowd upon the bank, and
Brewer groaned as the little canoe seemed about to
pass them by. He could hear their shouts, and under-
stood that they were helpless. He could see Mr.Wes-
ton distractedly imploring him, but the rush of the
water drowned his voice.

Suddenly the boat gave a twist; again and again;
it had struck the end of a drifting beam, and a great
seam gaped in her side.

“The water!” they shouted to him. “Take to the
water! Swim!”

“ How can he?” some one asked. “The river is
full of logs, and, moreover, he has the child.”

“ Let him leave it,” growled the man who had first
spoken. “It’s only a rich man’s brat.”

Mr. Weston heard the words, and gave a low, hurt
cry. Would he, could he desert the brave boy who
had loved him and believed in him when all the world
distrusted and despised him ?

“Swim! The water!”

The cry still went up. Those upon the bank saw
him motion to the child crouched beside him, and
shake his head. Then they saw him bend his lips to
138 HERO-CHUMS.

the boy’s ear, just at the moment when, discovering
some one in the crowd, the little fellow took a bit of
white cambric from his pocket. They supposed he
was crying, but instead of putting it to his eyes,
he waved the tiny rag to some one upon the bank.
They turned, and saw Mr. Weston return the salute,
as if to encourage hope, when, indeed, all hope seemed
vanished. But when the old man spoke to him, the
boy dropped the handkerchief, and instantly clasped
his arms about the old friend’s neck, and he shoved
him up, in the old familiar way, to his shoulder. It
seemed as if an angel, clad in white, and crowned with
glistening gold, had suddenly dropped from the skies
and lighted upon the old man’s shoulders. And, as
he plunged into the stream, more than one was re-
minded of him, that lover of little children, upon
whom the dove had descended as he arose from the
waters of the sacred Jordan.

“There!” shouted a hoarse voice. “ They’re com-
ing. He’s got the kid on his back. But he’ll have
to swim; Brewer’s old. And look yonder!”

It was only a trunk of a great tree bearing down
upon them ; but with steady work they might hope to
reach the arms of those who had ventured out as far as
they dared into the water to meet them. They moved
slowly, however, for the old man’s strength was well-
nigh spent. The watchers upon the bank held their
breath in fear and dread. Only the swish of the
water broke the silence, for they had not heard
the old man say, as the great tree drifted too near;


“HE WAVED A TINY RAG TO SOME ONE ON THE BANK.”



SAFE IN THE ARMS. 141

“ Better shut your eyes, little master.”

“I'd rather keep them open, if you please,” was the
brave answer. “If I truly have to be drowned, I’d
rather die like a—” The branches of the dead tree
brushed over them; the little arms lost their clasp;
the old friends parted; but, as the little form drifted
away, the brave lips completed the sentence, —“a
hero.”

A great cry went up from the bank. The old man
missed the beloved burden, and reached his arms out
blindly for the boy drifting away from him. Then
something struck him upon the head, and he sank,
just at the moment when friendly hands were reached
to draw them to the landing.

John was stunned, but not seriously hurt. He
opened his eyes when they lifted him into his father’s
arms. He saw the tears in the superintendent’s eyes ;
the white, quivering lips put to his cheek were cold.

“T did try to be a man, sir,” said the child. “Ask
Mr. Brewer if I didn’t. Where is Mr. Brewer,
anyhow? Oh, where is Mr. Brewer, my dear old
friend?”

“He is behind us, my son,” replied the master.
“They are bringing him up to the house.”

The weary, wave-washed little face brightened for
a moment.

“ Our house?”

“ Yes.”

«That's good. He’s a jolly. old hero; I always
knew it.”
142 HERO-CHUMS.

He lifted his head, heavy with its mass of cling-
ing curls that had been drenched by the water, and
looked at the crowd slowly following behind them.

“ Hello there, my old friend,” he shouted. “How
are you, sir? You’re to come up to our house, you
know, sir.’ Then he saw that something was wrong.
“Father,” he cried, “ what are they doing, and where
is my old chum ?”

Mr. Weston’s voice failed him as he said, softly,
drawing the ‘slight form more closely to his bosom:

“‘My son, your old friend is safe in the arms of
Jesus.”

And when, a moment later, he placed the uncon-
scious boy in the arms of his almost frantic wife,
he said:

“Mr. Brewer has given us back our son, mother.
He bought his life with his own.”
CHAPTER IX.
A HERO AFTER CHRIST.

ALM and undisturbed as the face of a little

child it lay in its coffin. All the old despair
gone, all the old, troublous doubts and unrest van-
ished for ever. In their place only childish gentle-
ness and peace. Could this, this piece of quiet
marble, be the old, restless wanderer, the man of
cracked mind and crazy fancies?

Seeing him in all that wondrous change, who
would not cry. out: “Oh, death, thou softener!
Oh, death, thou equaliser! Oh, death, thou healer!
Dear, dear death! Who talks of sting in thee, thou
dear friend of the friendless ?”

So had he been friend to him, that old despairing
one. So had he given him in full that which life
denied him, — peace and justice. It had crowned
him hero, had friend death, when life had branded
him outcast. Many noble souls go uncrowned, like
him, until death feels for their thorn-torn temples.

High and humble, rich'and poor, miner and master,

came alike to do him honour. They drew nearer
143
144 HERO-CHUMS.

to him in his coffin than they had ever done in his
shack, that empty shell that he was done with.
They looked upon his face through tears; they had
looked upon his life with laughter. It was the same
old face, the same old familiar features, only that
death had glorified them, death and victory. The
handsome broadcloth, the immaculate linen could
neither add to nor take from the quiet majesty of
death. .

They had .found upon his bosom, swung by a
simple cord about his neck, a little golden circlet,
a child’s ring, and had left thus, undisturbed, his
badge of heroism, none doubting now that he was
fit to wear it.

There was one who had never doubted, — just one.
At the head of the casket, one small hand resting
upon it, that faithful little friend stood now. The
saddest and the heaviest heart of all beat in his
little bosom. He had sobbed himself into a voice-
less grief. The brave blue eyes wore shadows, and
a tear fell now and then, whenever the gaze rested
upon the dear, familiar features.

It was the first time he had ever looked upon
death in all its regal deafness and its cold magnifi-
cence. It seemed hard, very hard and strange that
his dear old friend could not spéak to him. He
knew now that he could not, else he had not lain
there so calmly indifferent when he called on him
as his “dear old friend”’ It was terrible to him
that they were no longer “confidential,” for he felt,
A HERO AFTER CHRIST. 145

in a sad, terrible way, that this was something
no one might share; death would have no confi-
dences.

All day he had watched the crowd passing in and
out his mother’s parlour, where the coffin rested upon
two velvet chairs. It seemed odd, that crowd of
common workmen and women from the shacks,
making so free in the company’s house. It was
death’s doings, too, — death, the leveller. He had
opened the great doors to the rabble at last. He
will open the doors of heaven to them —the poor -
—at last. It was terrible to the boy, this thing
death. Why, it had made every man of that strange
crowd as near to his old friend as he was, and he
had been his very dearest friend in life. Death had
shut him out; he hated death.

His mother, watching with keenest understanding,
saw the lips quiver; the hand upon the coffin trem-
bled as if he would have drawn it into a fist with
which to meet this strange unfeeling presence. She
put her hand upon the fair head, so gently he
scarcely felt the touch of the light fingers among
the silken curls. And while she gently stroked
them, soft and low, with a sweet confidence in its
perfect faith, the old childhood’s hymn floated
through the darkened parlours.

«“ Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on his gentle breast,
There by his love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.”
146 HERO-CHUMS.

Mr. Weston stepped over to the window, and threw
“open the shutters. The clouds had vanished; the
sun streamed into the room in one long, unbroken
dash of splendour. It fell upon the old face, and
seemed to kiss it into warmth. The little face at
the head of the bier brightened. Death had lost
its terror. His old friend was safe. He never
thought of him again, no, not in all his ater
as otherwise than safe, “Safe in the arms.’

He crept into a corner and sat there, his crutch
across his knees, tearless and silent, until the short
service was ended. But there was no longer a
shadow in the young heart. The little lips no
longer quivered, not even when they bore the peey
of his dear old friend away.

But when the long procession was moving through
the gate and forming in the street, heading towards
the village burying-ground, people were surprised to
hear a child’s voice calling after them. They turned
to see John standing in his old place, where he was
wont to wait for the old friend who was going from
him now for ever, on the top step. He had watched
them moving off, silently, quietly, and fearlessly.
Suddenly he snatched his cap from the tangled
golden curls, and swung it triumphantly about his
head in the old, familiar greeting:

“Good-bye,” he shouted. “Good-bye, my old
friend. We were dear old friends, and I am glad
you died a hero. Good-bye, good-bye, and pleasure
dreams and sweet repose, my old hero-chum.”
A HERO AFTER CHRIST. 147

He turned to his father standing near; there was
real exultation in his voice when he said:

“ He was a hero, wasn’t he, father ?”

“Yes, my son,” said the master of the house. “He
was indeed a hero — after Christ.”

THE END.
22), 7066 ©







xml record header identifier oai:www.uflib.ufl.edu.ufdc:UF0008726700001datestamp 2008-10-22setSpec [UFDC_OAI_SET]metadata oai_dc:dc xmlns:oai_dc http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc xmlns:dc http:purl.orgdcelements1.1 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc.xsd dc:title Hero-chumsYoung of heart series ; 1dc:creator Dromgoole, Will Allen, 1860-1934Colonial Press (Boston, Mass.) ( Printer )C.H. Simonds & Co. ( Electrotyper ; Printer )dc:subject Christian life -- Juvenile fiction.Friendship -- Juvenile fiction.Intergenerational relations -- Juvenile fiction.Courage -- Juvenile fiction.Fathers and sons -- Juvenile fiction.Children with disabilities -- Juvenile fiction.Miners -- Juvenile fiction.Social classes -- Juvenile fiction.Juvenile fiction. -- TennesseeBldn -- 1898.dc:description Publisher's advertisements precede text.dc:publisher Dana Estes & Companydc:date 1898dc:type Bookdc:format 147 p. : ill. ; 19 cm.dc:identifier http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/ufdc/?b=UF00087267&v=00001002225537 (ALEPH)261339140 (OCLC)ALG5812 (NOTIS)dc:source University of Floridadc:language English