Blazing Flambeaux: Love, Money and Intrigue During the Natural Gas Boom in Indiana

Blazing Flambeaux

Love, Money and Intrigue During the Natural Gas Boom in Indiana

Montrew Dunham

Smashwords ebook published by Fideli Publishing Inc.

© Copyright 2015, Montrew Dunham

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ISBN: 978-1-60414-858-9

Preface

The story of Blazing Flambeaux is historical fiction that takes place during the gas boom in central Indiana in the late nineteenth century. It begins in 1886, with the blowing of the first powerful gas well known as the Sorcerer. Though there is a real Green County in southern Indiana, it is not the site of this story.

The fictional county, where this story is set, is in north central Indiana where natural gas was lush and plentiful for over a decade. The name of this imaginary county is Green and its county seat is Greenville. Though this Green County exists only in the imagination, it was not unlike many of the rural Indiana counties and their county seats.

With the exception of a few minor characters and the background of real historical people, the main characters are all fictional and any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Though the place is fictional, the characters move through real history reacting to the effect of the extravagant use of gas and the greed caused by it on their lives at a time when natural gas flowed from every well.

CHAPTER ONE

Gas Strike on Freeman Farm

Greenville News Gazette, April 19, 1886 — There was a great gas strike yesterday on the farm of Mose Freeman at about 5 o’clock in the afternoon, when a well being drilled for water, instead brought in natural gas in a magnificent powerful gush. The well drillers hit a layer of sand rock, and then to the surprise of everyone present instead of hitting water struck a natural gas vein. The pressure of the gas threw mud, sand and stone nearly thirty feet into the air and when a flame from a nearby trash fire set the gas alight, a twenty-five foot brilliant column of fire shot into the sky. The people of this city are greatly excited over the successful find.

Jim Whittaker, editor and owner of the Gazette handed his copy to Luke the printer. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his chair back from his desk and got up slowly. He went over to where Luke was already setting the written words into print.

Luke had such admiration for Jim, and he felt he was so fortunate to be learning the trade from him. After Jim had graduated from college he had gone to Indianapolis to work on the Indianapolis Sentinel for two or three years. Then he had returned to Greenville and when he started the Gazette, Jim hired Luke as a helper.

Luke didn’t know why Jim had come back, but he sure was glad that he had. And he thought several of the young ladies were glad Jim was there, especially Martha Burroughs.

Luke gathered his thoughts back to his task at hand and the farther he read the more amazed he was at the news! Luke whistled his admiration. What a great story!

Jim, watching over Luke’s shoulder, nodded as he thought that this was probably the most important story he had ever written! But neither Jim nor Luke had any idea just how important!

Quite by chance Jim had been at Freeman’s when that first well came in. He had ridden out into the country to check on the sale to be held at the Casey farm, and after he had gotten the information from Brendon Casey, he had passed Freeman’s place on his way back to town.

Mose had called to him and asked him to stop in, so he turned and drove up the short lane to the side yard where Mose was standing. Jim asked what was going on when he heard the constant, rhythmic pounding coming from the back of the house.

Boys are drivin’ me a well for water, Mose answered. Having a hell of a time, too. Hit a layer of sand rock. They wanted to quit, but I told them to go ahead today, and if they didn’t bust through by evening we’d try about twenty yards north tomorrow.

Jim walked past a pile of burning brush to the back to see what was going on. The well driller shut off the steam engine, which was lifting the heavy hammer that drove the pipe into the ground. He walked toward Jim and Mose, cussing under his breath at the damned rock that lay just under the earth’s crust. Hell, I don’t know why I stay in this part of the country where well-drilling is so damned difficult.

As the well driller grumbled on, Jim noticed a sound like a leaky steam valve. What’s that? Jim asked.

The well driller, Mose and Jim spent several minutes looking over the steam engine for a leak. The pitch of the sound kept getting higher and higher and louder and louder. Mose walked toward the scaffolding that held the driving hammer above the well pile. As he looked at the pipe about three feet above his head, Jim smelled a peculiar odor that he couldn’t identify. When he leaned his weight against the pipe, he felt it quiver and vibrate even more. The hissing sound grew louder and then accelerated to a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek.

Mose yelled for Jim just as all hell broke loose. Water, mud and sand gushed from the top of the pipe with a thrust that sent the earth’s guts thirty feet in the air! They all ran to get away from the flying mud and sand, but there was no escaping the thrust of muddy water falling all around them.

My God, I’ve never seen a water well come in like this! exclaimed the driller.

Mose wiped off his muddy face and just stared at the newborn geyser. What do you do with a water well with this kind of pressure?

Jim was aghast at the force of the exploding well. It was still throwing sand and stones nearly thirty feet into the air. That couldn’t be water pressure!

He frowned as he remembered an article he had printed in the Gazette that described the striking of a gas well in Ohio. Then he thought about the talk of natural gas wells being discovered over by Muncie. It’s gas! It has to be natural gas!

By now the well pipe was hissing with a low roar and the pressure seemed to be building. It seemed likely to explode. Mose, it’s gas. It has to be! Only gas could build that kind of pressure! Jim shouted. "It’s natural gas!

Mose snorted as he shook his head, Natural gas? It’s the damnedest thing I have ever seen!

They stood speechless as they looked at the quivering well pipe and then at each other. They were bathed in mud. Come on, let’s wash up, Mose motioned toward the house since the shrill whistling from the well made it almost impossible to hear.

Jim stood by the window as he was washing up and gazed absently toward the lurching pipe. Suddenly, a flame from a nearby burning brush leaped into the air with a thunderous thud, creating a tremendous smoke cloud. When the smoke cleared, there was a twenty-five foot blaze soaring from the end of the well pipe! The flame started about a foot from the end of the pipe, and the lower part of the blaze was a brilliant blue for several feet and then became dazzling white. The flame whipped and rushed into the sky with great sheets of fire tearing away, curling and crackling.

Oh my, God! It’s going to burn the place down! Mose shouted.

The three men rushed out the back door together as Mrs. Freeman came running up from the barn. What’s happening? she screamed as she looked at the pillar of fire in the sky.

Jim looked around the field quickly for spreading fire but there seemed to be no fire anywhere other than the smoldering brush fire and the column of fire burning into the sky. Almost to himself, but in an attempt to reassure the Freemans, Jim said, It’s got to be a natural gas well, and with that pressure I’d say it’s a big one!

It was as if the earth itself had just given a violent birth to the natural gas well. Thoughts raced through Jim’s head ... Was this just an isolated pocket of gas? It doesn’t seem likely… Or is it just the first tap into an enormous field?

The grimy well driller turned to Mose and asked wearily, What are we going to do with it?

How the hell would I know? I never had a gas well before. Looks like the damned thing will blow up any minute. Now I got to find somewhere else to drill to get my water!

Jim laughed at Mose for worrying because his well wouldn’t bring him any water, instead of realizing how much this gas would mean to him and to everyone else in Greenville.

As it turned out, it was only the beginning of what looked like an inexhaustible supply of natural gas!

The people in the community were skeptical at first. There was one other well drilled before the middle of the summer. After that success, there was another and another and another. Almost everyone had expected the wells to give out, but the open flambeaux burned on unceasingly.

By the spring of 1887, there was no doubt that Greenville was squarely in the middle of a tremendous gas field. Subsequently, the village of Greenville changed more in that year than it had in the twenty years before!

Sunshine streamed in through the lace curtains of the dining room windows as Jim Whittaker pulled up his chair to sit down to breakfast with his father. He sat down, took his napkin from its place and opened it across his lap. Judge Whittaker had already started his breakfast and the other two places at the table were still empty.

Almost had some roomers for us last night.

More people who can’t find rooms? The Judge shook his head slowly and smiled at his eldest son, It is almost unbelievable how the character of a community can change. What a difference from the small village I came to when I married your mother. Most of the change has happened this year, since that first gas well came in.

Greenville was an ordinary Indiana town that had grown to serve the farming community around it. The thousand or so people who lived in town, for the most part drew their livelihood by providing goods or services to the farmers. The streets were laid out straight and true, due north and south, and were crossed at right angles by those going east and west. Most of the homes were neat, practical clapboard houses enclosed with equally neat wooden fences. A few large brick homes, set on park like grounds with wrought iron fences and carriage blocks, relieved the Midwestern plainness of the town.

Judge James Whittaker had come to Greenville in 1858, but it was years before he became a judge. He was just a young lawyer from Ohio seeking the good life in a town with opportunity when he first arrived, and he found opportunity in this small village. It was here that he had met and married Amy Clarke.

It seemed such a long time ago, an eternity really. Though his memory of that beautiful, spirited young girl was almost more vivid than the woman she became. He smiled to himself as he thought about their wedding and how lucky he felt that he’d wooed and won her when she was sought after by half of the eligible young men in town.

Amy was willful and flirtatious, but she seemed to settle down some with the birth of their first son, Jim, and then a couple of years later Sarah was born. His law practice had flourished, since he was the only lawyer in town. Though most of the work was mundane and routine, he prospered and he adored his wife and family.

Then came the war with its terrible tragedies. All their lives were disrupted by it. With Lincoln’s first call on May 15, 1861 for volunteers, Amy’s two brothers, Nicholas and Robert, had enlisted in the 12th Indiana Volunteer Infantry. He had not gone with the first wave, but as the war progressed, he knew he had to serve, so he, too, enlisted.

When the war was finally over, at last he had returned to Amy and his children. At this point, the Judge consciously stopped his thoughts and returned to the present. Who were these people who needed lodging?

I really don’t know who they are ... a couple of men from Ohio. Schultz asked me if I knew anyplace they could be put up. I finally got Mama Doloupolous to take them in. Mrs. Greene’s rooming house was full.

The Whittaker’s housekeeper, Mrs. Revis, drew her mouth down into a tight disapproving line as she poured steaming, pungent sassafras tea into Jim’s cup and a refill for the Judge. Jim smiled to himself as he noted her marked negative reaction, and said with special emphasis for her, Looked for a while like I’d have to bring them home to stay.

Without lifting her glance, Mrs. Revis retorted sharply, We got enough to do here without roomers, folks you don’t know nothin’ about … strangers!

The Judge agreed, There are some strange people in town. Interesting to speculate on what they want. How do they see themselves in Greenville? Are they looking for jobs? If so, doing what? … Or do they think they can buy a gas well and get rich?

From what I hear, there are a number of men trying to buy up land around town. I just wonder who’s got all this buying-up money. Sounds peculiar to me, sniffed Mrs. Revis as she stomped out to the kitchen.

It was Jim’s turn to be serious. He had heard that offers were being made all over the county for land ... and the price of an acre of land was rising every day. He did wonder how all of this fit together and what the eventual outcome would be.

You’d better eat your breakfast while it’s hot, Mrs. Revis scolded Jim from the kitchen. Jim smiled, and started to fill his plate. He helped himself to some fried potatoes, eggs, a hot biscuit and started to eat.

The Judge sipped and savored his sassafras tea. Mighty good tea. Only in Indiana can you get tea like this.

Surely there is sassafras tea in other places, too, Jim said.

Oh, probably, the Judge agreed, but none as delicious as this.

Jim washed down his potatoes and eggs with a hefty draft of the hot tea and added, I can never get enough of it!

Mrs. Revis obviously heard the entire conversation from the kitchen as she called, You’ve had enough! This is your last potful for the season. You’ll not get any more until next spring.

Oh, come on!

You know better than that. You’ll get your blood so thinned down you won’t have an ounce of strength. You know as well as I do that you drink sassafras tea from the 15th of March to the 15th of April and nary a day longer!

Judge Whittaker looked up from reading the Indianapolis Sentinel and chuckled. You might as well enjoy your last cup. You know Mrs. Revis is a woman of strong convictions … and in addition she is usually right. He read on for a while, then commented, See by the paper that another gas field has been tapped down by Anderson.

Jim nodded his mouth full of biscuit and honey. I heard they were putting down some wells.

Hearing the sound of footsteps tripping down the front stairs, both Jim and his father looked up. Sarah, the Judge’s only daughter, appeared in the doorway of the dining room.

Morning, Sarah.

Morning, Jim, She replied cheerily, as she went over to kiss her father.

Sara was a pretty 25-year-old schoolteacher, old enough that there were those who would have called her a spinster, but she certainly didn’t look it. Her shining brown hair was dressed in a fashionable bouffant hairstyle, and her clear brown eyes were bright and lovely. Her creamy skin was highlighted by her pink cheeks and round, soft mouth.

The Judge smiled with pleasure as he thought about how Sarah adorned any room she entered. She was a vibrant, lissome young woman, whose spirits were almost invariably bright and sunny. He thought about how fortunate the students at Mill Creek School were to have such a happy, enthusiastic teacher.

Jim interrupted his breakfast to pull out a chair for Sarah. She gathered the skirts of her dress around her as she settled into the dining chair, which Jim pushed up to the table. Smoothing her pompadour down with a characteristic gesture, she looked from her father to Jim and said, Talking about the gas, I presume.

And a voice from the top of the stairs answered, "The subject of top importance in Jim’s Gazette."

Jim’s comeback was in a split second, Name two more important, Ned!

Money and women! Ned retorted, just as quickly, as he strode into the room.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Revis heard everything and clucked to herself. That sounds just like Ned. She knew what his hours were and heard about how he spent his time from Gert, the Postmistress, who knew just about everything that went on in town ... and what she didn’t know Mrs. Green, who ran the rooming house did.

The Judge observed Ned wryly. He’d never understood his younger son like he did Jim. His feelings were mixed with some measure of free-floating anxiety … a feeling of uncertainty about Ned. He couldn’t quite define his concern, but it was always there.

Sarah and Jim both had such strong characters, but Ned, for all his brilliance at the University, was inclined to be a little unstable. He looked down thoughtfully as he tried to dismiss these thoughts. He attempted to convince himself that a little time would iron the boy out.

Jim laughed at Ned’s reply and goaded him, In that order?

Hell, no! You know women are first but it takes money to get along with them.

CHAPTER TWO

George Palmer was a large, well-dressed man, who carried himself with assurance. He exuded authority and he knew he was important. He was a self-made man, the influence of the Gordon family had played a part for him in the beginning, but he was well past that now. The inheritance from Emaline had helped, but he had done well on his own as well. The main secret to his success was his good judgment and ability to find opportunity. Some men waited for opportunity to knock, but not George Palmer, he made his own opportunities.

That drive was one reason he was vice-president of Gordon Glass Company, and would one day own the company. This was one more step on the way to that goal. He had sensed the direction toward increasing the fortunes of the company, and no less important, his own fortune.

It hadn’t taken long for him to appraise the opportunities in Greenville and then to decide on his next move. Stuart Pritchard from Acme Oil had called him early in July of 1886 to tell him about the possibility of a new natural gas field opening in Greenville. It couldn’t have come at a better time because, in his opinion, it looked like the supply in Lima, Ohio was showing signs of diminishing. Perhaps a move to a more plentiful field of gas was in order.

Pritchard advised him to look at buying some land there, and told him that Acme was buying all they could without raising suspicions in the community that an oil company was involved.

Palmer made two trips to Greenville. On the third, he knew his strategy. Though he was not unnoticed in town, he made it his business to gather information as quietly as he could on his own. He also hired natural gas experts to evaluate the field. By the third trip, he knew he would be in Greenville for a long time.

Finally, after much pleading from his daughter, Alexandra, he agreed that she and Cousin Caroline could join him for a short visit. Alexandra’s arrival in Greenville was going to cause quite a stir.

It won’t be long now. That four-forty ain’t never been more than twenty minutes late and it’s ten minutes till five now, said one of the regular train watchers.

The tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad from Chicago to Indianapolis went right down the middle of the main street in Greenville on the west side of the county courthouse. Every evening found a few men waiting for the new train. It wasn’t that they were waiting for anybody in particular; they just liked seeing the shining locomotive roaring majestically down Greenville’s main street.

They always watched, hoping that the train would stop. Recently it had stopped more often than not, what with all the strangers coming into town. This particular day was the day Alexandra and Cousin Caroline were coming to town. More people than usual were out and about, probably because of the bad weather, which meant there were more farmers in town passing the time of day. The drizzling rain settled dismally on the crowd that had gathered in front of the Greenville station to wait for the new Pennsylvania locomotive to come through.

There she is! shouted a small boy as he pointed to the train. See the smoke!

Some of the onlookers sauntered onto the track to catch a glimpse of the locomotive wreathed in low-hanging smoke. The station agent soon came out of his office, pushed his way through the crowd and looked up the track, standing tall with the importance of being in charge. Shortly the locomotive came into full view as it rounded the curve north of town and started across the bridge.

Everyone stepped back out of the way as the train pulled up the street. Delight rippled through the group of onlookers as the locomotive lumbered to a full stop with puffs of steam and gasps of power. Some of the men walked forward to admire the gleaming engine as it stood spewing and puffing, while others, more curious about who might be getting off of the train, stood back to watch the opening door of the passenger car.

One of the men turned to see a large man, handsome in his expensively cut clothes threading his way through the group to the train. Say, looks to me like that’s George Palmer over there, he drawled between chews on his tobacco. Stretching his neck a little, he watched as Palmer strode quickly to the train. There were two ladies standing on the steps ready to alight.

The young lady in front was dressed modishly in a grey wool suit, fashioned with the long jacket in the latest New York style. Around her throat was a grey fur collar, and on her right hand a matching fur muff. A small, soft grey velvet hat was perched atop her lustrous golden hair. Behind her, peering out anxiously was a middle-aged lady dressed in a trim, neat black suit of equal high fashion with a black fur shoulder cape.

Do you reckon that’s his daughter a comin’ out here from New York? I heard tell the other day that she might be comin’ here. Say, wonder if that means they plan to settle down here. Right purty girl, ain’t she?

Yep, she sure is… Who’s that woman with her? Didn’t think Palmer had himself a woman.

The farmers stood against an iron hitching post in the courthouse yard and watched as George Palmer rushed eagerly to the two women. The men weren’t the only ones who’d noticed. Women sitting in their buggies also looked on with interest at the newcomers who’d gotten off the train from Chicago.

The farmer shook his head. Seems like nowadays the town is fillin’ up with strangers. So many coming there’s hardly any place left to put them up for the night. This had been happening since word got out that every place they drilled down a little ways in Greenville, natural gas would come swooshing up.

The first time it happened had been at the Freeman’s place, over a year ago. That had raised quite a commotion. Then Tinkham had drilled at his place, and then Dode Schmetzer with his well. Now all of them had open torches blazing day and night in their barnyards. It sure was a sight!

Alexandra Palmer looked over the curious faces until she met her father’s eager gaze trying to catch her attention. With complete lack of reserve, she shouted, Papa, here we are!

Cousin Caroline clucked and nudged Alexandra, then sighed. It’s such a task to keep Alexandra behaving like a lady. She looked about and hoped that no one had noticed the outburst. She’d done her best, ever since Lydia, George’s second wife, had fallen ill and then died, but it was hard to train a willful, spoiled child.

Cousin Caroline had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to make the trip to Indiana, since Alexandra’s graduation from Madame Dodd’s Academy had prevented her from coming with her father. She sighed again, I suppose it’s just as easy to make the trip, as it would have been to keep tabs on Alexandra at home without her father.

Caroline peered around Alexandra to see George Palmer maneuvering his large frame through the crowd to the train steps. He was tall enough that it was easy to identify him over the heads of the shorter men of the crowd. His face was transformed by his pleasure of seeing his daughter again after nearly three months.

It always gave him a feeling of deep pleasure to see what a beautiful girl she’d become. His chest tightened so he could scarcely breathe. Palmer stretched out his arms to Alexandra as soon as he came within reaching distance. She threw herself into her father’s arms and with her arms clasped tightly about his neck, she kissed him and said, Oh, Papa, I’ve missed you so much! School had been such a bore and Cousin Caroline so dull! Alexandra loved her father so much.

Palmer leaned forward and, with his arm still around his daughter, held out his other hand to help Cousin Caroline. How was the trip? Did you have any trouble changing trains in Chicago?

We are simply exhausted! Caroline sighed, I couldn’t sleep a wink last night in that hotel room! Life consisted of a great many worries for Caroline Marsh. She wasn’t really related to George and Alexandra, although they always maintained the cousin relationship. A maiden lady in her early forties, Caroline really was a cousin to George’s second wife, who had been a wealthy young widow when she married Palmer.

Alexandra had been only two when Lydia Brownlee and George Palmer were married. Her own mother had died in childbirth. Lydia became an invalid within a couple years after her marriage to George, and they asked Caroline to come and help run the house. She was also responsible for little four-year-old Alexandra. Although there were minimum duties for Caroline, even the simplest household decision seemed to present a major crisis for her.

In only two years, the family was faced with Lydia’s lingering illness and death from consumption. Caroline stayed on in the role of housekeeper and companion to Alexandra. At first, she’d been resentful. If Lydia had not married George, Caroline would have been her sister’s heir instead of George Palmer. She sometimes dreamed of how she would have lived if she’d had all that money. Instead, she was stuck being just one step above a servant to George and his daughter.

With a sly glance from her grey-green eyes, Alexandra added to Caroline’s statement, Cousin Caroline guarded our virtue, while I slept. We are awfully tired now though. Where are we staying? My word, look at this street! Alexandra exclaimed as she looked around her and walked gingerly across the muddy street. She marveled at the railroad station being right on the main street, then she looked across the street at a shabby frame building, and asked, What is that over there?

That’s the courthouse.

That little building is the courthouse? Alexandra exclaimed.

Yes, it is. It’s a real center of activity, and there’s beginning to be plenty!

Alexandra looked at the grey frame building with its small steeple. Around the yard were pipes, at intervals of about twenty feet or so, extending about six feet up into the air. The pipes were ablaze and flames soared from the mouth of each. The eerie wall of flaming bars dwarfed the building and made it seem insignificant.

How beautiful. How terribly beautiful those blazing torches are, but how crude! Alexandra stared with fascination. Palmer slowed his pace to stare with his daughter. The ever-active flames were almost hypnotic.

Caroline lifted her skirts as decorously as she could to step up on the curbing. Her face filled with amazement as she looked around her. Did you ever? she exclaimed.

What’s wrong, Caroline?

Caroline’s eyes narrowed as she drew her mouth down into a tight line. George, surely you don’t expect to live in this town! Her thoughts made a momentary return to their beautiful, big brick house with its manicured green lawn. How can he think of moving? she thought and felt a moment of fright. Surely he won’t consider a permanent move here!

What are all those men doing over there? she asked as she bobbed her head toward the courthouse lawn, which was filled with clusters of men strolling about. Are they dangerous?

George chuckled his characteristic laugh, and then realized how truly frightened Caroline was in this new situation she didn’t understand. He attempted to reassure her, Caroline, those men are upright, solid citizens. They’re farmers, who gather in town whenever they have an opportunity. They exchange news and do their buying.

Caroline tossed her head, Really? They look like they’re a mob ready to lynch someone!

Palmer did laugh then, Just good farmers who came to town to day because it’s too wet to do spring plowing and planting. If you think that’s a crowd, just wait until you see the town on Saturday night. I think everyone in the county comes in to town!

Palmer smiled smugly as he mused to himself, With all this free gas, and me in on the ground floor, I could line up the situation from the beginning. The town was agog with the excitement! The people in the community knew they had stumbled on untold wealth, but they were floundering and weren’t quite sure what to do about it. Greenville’s still a rustic little town, but it won’t be for long! Palmer nodded briefly to some of the men standing on the corner outside Prior’s Saloon.

Alexandra was delighted as she looked around her. Everything seemed so primitive: the streets of mud, sidewalks of wood, and over all the darting flames of the blazing flambeaux. She shivered a little as she sensed a unique feeling of power and excitement in the atmosphere of the town. She had an unexplainable feeling of marvelous anticipation, though she had no idea what she was waiting for … hopefully it was something extraordinary and special.

Cousin Caroline broke into Alexandra’s thoughts when she nudged her as they passed the dark, drab store next to the saloon. Alexandra looked at the Dry Goods store, but it looked so uninteresting she barely slowed her pace.

The women who were shopping in the store, and the dark-eyed girl who was waiting on them, however, stopped their trading to stare through the front window at the two passing ladies. Each day brought new people into town, but these were the first ladies to arrive … and they were such fashionable ladies!

Alexandra did look with interest into the confectionery store located next to Silverstein’s Dry Goods. The aroma of freshly made candies floated out the open door. Two or three hats in the next window indicated a millinery shop, and the corner store had a dressmaker’s sign in the front window. The store buildings were all one-story frame and seemed to join each other in a melancholy sameness.

George Palmer hooked arms with the ladies to help them across the street, and told them, The Palace Hotel is just around the corner here on First Street on the east side of the courthouse. They stepped up on the wooden sidewalk in front of Tony’s Barber Shop, then headed north on First Street past the News-Gazette office.

Jim Whittaker was sitting at his desk when he looked out the front window at just the right time to see the Palmers walk past. Alexandra would’ve been pleased had she overheard Jim’s reaction when he saw her. He stared at her, gave forth a low whistle, turned to his printer and exclaimed, Luke! Take a look at what’s coming to this town now! Whittaker watched as Palmer and the two ladies walked down the street past the Apothecary shop. He kept watching until they were out of sight when they turned to the Palace Hotel.

Mr. Schultz and his wife, the proprietors of the Palace Hotel, were at a loss for words when they were approached by Matt Burroughs, the mayor of Greenville, and asked to prepare a suite for Mr. Palmer and his daughter. The Palace Hotel had been full to capacity for weeks and the truth of the matter was, the Palace Hotel did not now have, nor had it ever had, a suite!

The hotel was an L-shaped frame building, with six rooms on the second floor. The various salesmen who came to town, as well as an occasional government man had occupied these most of the time. The Schultz’s living quarters, a small lobby and a dining room comprised the first floor. However, recently they’d had to turn people away for lack of space. Mrs. Green’s rooming house was full too, so some people had opened their homes to roomers to help out. Nonetheless, Matt had been most insistent that Palmer had to have a suite, of at least four rooms, preferably five.

The Schultzes had never before been confronted with such a problem, but, with great ingenuity, they solved it! A temporary partition was built across the hallway into the wing, so that it closed off the corridor and five of the rooms. Three of the rooms remained unchanged, while they made one of the others into a study at the Mayor’s suggestion. The last they furnished with their own parlor furniture supplemented with some of the furniture from the lobby. Mrs. Schultz was proud of her handiwork and would have been most offended had she heard the Palmers’ reactions.

Alexandra went through the suite wordlessly with Cousin Caroline trailing behind, tisking at the tasteless gloomy rooms, I’ll take this room, Cousin Caroline. You take the one across the corridor.

Alexandra took off her fur collar, laid it on the bed and sat down in front of the bureau. She drew a long hat pin from her hat, and carefully lifted the hat from her hair, then placed it on the top of the bureau. She looked into the mirror as she brushed her hair back from her face with her hands.

Cousin Caroline said, I think that I shall lie down and rest a bit. I am weary. Cousin Caroline was frequently weary, although she enjoyed the best of health. She was not too weary though to lift up the spread and examine the bed carefully. Apparently it met with her satisfaction. After removing her hat and cape, she lay down.

Alexandra went into the study to talk with her father. Papa, I am so glad you let me come out to Indiana with you. I would’ve died staying alone with Cousin Caroline. This town is so exciting!

Her father responded with great enthusiasm, It’s going to be terrific! There are details to be worked out, but there is no doubt we will be opening a factory here.

Will the Uncles be coming too?

No, as matter of fact ... I think I’ll be going it alone with this one George Palmer eased his large frame back a little more comfortably into his chair and touched a match to his cigar.

Alexandra Palmer was the subject of the day at the Whittaker’s breakfast table that next morning. Ned asked, Have you seen the Palmer girl who arrived in town last night?

I caught a glimpse of a young lady going past with Palmer yesterday afternoon. What a beauty! I didn’t even know he had a daughter, Jim replied.

Sarah listened with interest. Palmer, she repeated the name slowly. Are they the ones … oh yes, Martha told me they have the suite at the Palace Hotel.

Suite? What suite? Old man Schultz doesn’t even know the word! Ned laughed in derision.

Oh, but really, I mean it!! Sarah’s brown eyes were alive with her gossip. Martha said they fixed up several rooms so Palmer, his daughter and another woman, I think she’s some relative who is a companion to the daughter, could have a suite.

Ned raised his eyebrows as he said suggestively, Another woman with him?

The Judge looked up and frowned his displeasure at Ned’s inference in front of his sister. Jim noted his father’s disapproving look and in order to avoid a breakfast table confrontation said quickly, No wonder Schultz didn’t have any rooms at the hotel. He’s practically letting the Palmers take over the place. I wonder why?

Martha said that her father arranged it, Sarah answered Jim’s question almost before it was out of his mouth.

I do wonder why Matt Burroughs feels Palmer is so important, said the Judge thoughtfully. He’s the first, but he is only one of the many who will come.

Amazing, isn’t it? Jim shook his head. At this rate Burroughs is going to wear out his welcome mat. Jim wiped his mouth on his napkin and pushing his chair back from the great round table, got up. If you will excuse me."

Sarah quickly pushed back her chair, too. I have to run, too. If I don’t hurry, the students will get to school before I do!

The Judge looked at Sarah’s plate, where she had only nibbled her biscuit and barely touched the scrambled eggs, Sarah, you haven’t finished your breakfast, have you?

Sarah smiled at her father, I’m finished. I am not really hungry.

Sarah you come out here, Mrs. Revis called from the kitchen. I have your lunch bucket ready for you to take to school.

Sarah smiled at Jim and shrugged as she went to the kitchen, and he laughed as he went into the front hall. As he pulled open the heavy front door, he grabbed his hat from the hall tree and continued his quick gait as he walked down Franklin Street. The warm spring air filled him with a feeling of lightness and pleasant anticipation. He’d been born and reared in the big, old white house where he still lived and he knew all the people on this street,

As matter of fact, until these recent months, he’d known everybody in town. Though he was absorbed in his own thoughts, he automatically spoke to the women who were out sweeping their front stoops or standing at their front gates talking with their neighbors. He waved or nodded to the children playing their games and to the occasional man he passed. As he walked, he thought about the town and the people who lived here.

The town was first settled in the early 1800s, with settlers coming by covered wagon over the National Road. The original settlers had land grants and bought their acreages eventually for about a $1.25 an acre. Those first pioneers had chosen this area in Indiana because of the river and the rich bottom land.

His mother’s parents had been land