The Barnwell people-sentinel. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1925-current, November 08, 1928, Image 2
THIR8DAT. NOVEMBER », IMS
BARNWELL nOftS-tENTINBL. BARNWELL, BOOTH CAtOUNA
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Cast of Principal Characters in This Thrilling
Story by Zane Grey
Buck Duane The Last of the Duanes
Bain A Texas "Bad Man"
Luke Stevens . An Outlaw
Bland ^...Leader of An Outlaw Group
Mrs. Bland ^ ...His Wife
Jennie .A Girl at Bland’s Camp
Captain MacNelly .V A Captain of the Rangers
Cheseidine ....... 7.7 ........A Dangerous Outlaw
So it was in him then—an inherited
fighting instinct—a blood lust—a driv
ing intensity to kill. He was the last
of the Duanes—that old fighting stock
of Texas.
Hut not the memory of his dead
father, nor the pleading of his soft-
voiced mother, nor the warning of
this uncle who stood before him now.
had brought so much to Duane reali
zation of the dark passionate strain in
his blood. It was the recurrence, a
hundredfold increased in power, of a
strange emotion that for the last three
years had taken possession of him. .
/Yes. Cal Haiti’s in town, full of
bad whisky, an’ huntin’ for you,” re
peated the elder man gravely.
“It's the second time,” muttered
Duane, as if to himself.
“Son, you can’t avoid a meetin’.
Leave town till Cal sobers up. He
ain’t got it in for you when he’s not
pointed downward and he was falling.
His bullet scattered dust and gravel at
Duane’s feet. Bain fell loosely with
out contortion.
When he came to the gate of his
home and saw his uncle there with a
mettlesome horse, saddled, with can
teen, rope, and bags all in olace, a
subtle shock pervaded Buck’s spirit.
It had slipped his mind—the conse
quence of his act.
But the sight of the horse, the look
of his uncle recalled the fact that he
must now become a fugitive.
“I am a murderer,” said Duane,
shuddering.
“No, son. you’re not. An’ you never
will be. But you’ve got to be an out
law till time makes it safe for you to
come home.”
Duane, with blurred sight and con
tracting throat, gripped his uncle’s
land and bade him a wordless farewell.
not thet kind of a feller, an’ Fm shore
not presumin’ to ask. But I jest de
clares myself sufficient.’^
“You mean you’d like me to go with
you?” asked Duane. '
Stevens grinned. '.
“Wal, I should smile. I’d be par
ticular proud to be braced with a man
of your reputation.”
“See here, my good fellow, that’s all
nonsense,” declared Duane in some
haste.
“Shore I think modesty becomin’ to
a youngster.” replied Stevens._b‘i hate
a brag.
“But every man who’s lived along
the Texas border remembers a lot
about your dad. It was expected of
you, I reckon, an' much of your rep
was established before you throwed
your gun. I jest heerd thet you was
lightnin’ on the draw, an’ when you
cut loose with a gun why the figger
on the ace of 'spades would cover
your cltister of bullet holes. Thet’s
the word thet’s gone down the bor
der.
■ “It’s the kind of reputation most
sure to fly far an’ swift ahead of a man
I’ll gamble on thet. It’s the land of
in this country. An’ the safest, too,
the draw! I see now you’re only a boy,
though you’re shore a strappin,’ husky
one. Now ; , Buck, I’m not a spring
chicken, an’ I’ve been long on the
dodge. Mebhe a little of my society
won’t hurt you none. You’ll need to
learn the country.”
There was something sincere and
likable about this outlaw.
• drinkin’.”
“But what’s he want me for?” de
manded Duane “To insult me again?
1 won t stand that twice.”
“He’s got a fever that’s rampant in
Texas Utw days, my boy. He wants
gunplay. If he meets you he’ll try to
kill you.”
Here it stirred Duane again—that
burstuig gush of blood, like a wind of
flame shaking all his inner being, and
subsiding to leave him strangely
chilled.
As towns go. Wellston was small
enough, but important tn that unsettled
part of the great State because it was
the trading center of several hundred
miles of territory. On the mam street
there were perhaps fifty buildings,
some brick, some frame, mostly adobe,
and one-third of the lot, by far the
most prosperous, were saloons. From
the road Duane turned into the street
It was a wide thoroughfare, lined by
hitching rails.sand saddled horses, and
vehicles of various kinds. Duane’s
eye ranged down the street, taking in
all at a*glance, particularly persons
moving leisurely up and down. Not a
cowboy was in sight
When he came to within fifty
paces of a saloon he swerved out
into the middle of the street, stood
there for a moment, then went
ahead and back to the sidewalk.
He passed on in this way the length of
the block.
Sol White was standing in the door
of his saloon.
“Buck, I’m a-tippin’ you off,” he
said, quick and low-voiced, “Cal Bain’s
over at Everall’s. If he’s a huntin’
you bad as he brags he’ll show there.”
Duane knew himself to be cold,
steady. He was conscious of a strange
fury that made him want to leap ahead.
’He seemed to long for this encounter
more than anything he had ever
wanted. But vivid as were his sensa
tions, he felt as if in a dream. Before
he reached EveralP£**he heard loud
voices, one of which' was raised high.
Then the short door swung outward as
if impelled by a vigorous hand. A
bow-legged cowboy, wearing woolly
chaps, burst out upon the sidewalk. At
sight of Duane he seemed to bound in
to the air and he let out a savage roar.
If Bain was drunk he did not show
It in his movements. Red, sweaty, and
disheveled, his face distorted and ex
pressive of the most malignant intent,
he semed a wild and sinister figure.
He had already killed a man, and this
appeared manifest in his demeanor.
“Won’t nothin’ make you draw, you
?” he shouted.
“I’m waiting on you,’Cal,” replied
Duane.
Bain’s right hand stiffened—moved.
Duane threw his gun as a boy throws a
ball underhand—a draw his father had
taught him. He pulled twice, his shots
almost as one.
Bain’s big Colt boomed while it was
Then he leaped astride the black and
rode out c: town.
When the heat of the day began to
be opprositc, and hunger and thirst
made themselves manifest, Duane be
gan to lodk about him? fox a plat to
halt for the noon hours. The trail led
into a road which was hard-packed and
smooth from the tracks of cattle. He
doubted not that he had come across
one of the roads used "by border
raiders.
He headed into it, and had scarcely
traveled a mile when turning a curve,
he came point-blank upon a single
horseman riding toward him.
“Mawnin, stranger,” called the man,
dropping his hand from his hip.
“Howdy,” replied Duane shortly.
“1 seen you ain’t no ranger,” called
the rider, “an’ shore 1 ain’t none.”
He laughed loudly as if he had made
a joke.
He was small and wiry, slouchy of
attire, and armed to the teeth, and be
bestrode a fine bay horse. He had
quick, dancing brown eyes, at once
frank and bold, and a coarse bronzed
face. Evidently he was a good-natured
ruffian.
“My name’s Luke Stevens, an’ I hail
from the river. Who’re you?” said
this stranger.
Duane was silent
“I reckon you’re Buck Duane,” went,
on Stevens. “I heerd you was a bad’
man with a gun.”
This time Duane laughed, not at the
doubtful compliment, but at the idea
that the first outlaw he met should
know him.
“Wal, Buck,” said Stevens, in a
friendly manner, “I ain't presumin’ on
your time or company. I see you’re
headin’ for the river. • But will you
stop long enough to stake a feller to a
bite of grub?”
*Tm out of grub, and pretty hun
gry myself,” admitted Duane.
“Been pushin’ your boss, I see. Wal,
I reckon you’d better stock up before
you hit thet stretch of country.”
He made a wide sweep of his right
arm, indicating the southwest, and
there was that in his action which
seemed significant of a vast and barren
region.
“Stock up?” queried Duane thought-
fuily.
“Shore. A feller has jest got to eat.
I can rustle along without whisky, but
not without grub. Thet’s what makes
it so embarrassin’ travelin’ these parts
dodgin’ your shadow. Now I’m on my
way to Mercer. It’s a little two-bit
town up the river a ways. I’m goin to
pack out some grub.
“Stranger, in this here country two's
a crowd. It’s safer. I never was
much an this lone wolf dodgin,’ though
I’ve done it of necessity. It takes a
good man to travel alone any length
of time. Why^ I’ve been thet sickl
was jest achin’ fer some ranger to
come along an’ plug me. Give me a
pardner any day. Now mebbe you're
“I dare say you’re right,” replied
Duane quietly, “and I’ll go to Mercer
with you.”
Next moment he was riding down
the road with Stevens.
“Stevens; have you got any money?”
asked Duane.
“Money!” exclaimed Luke blankly.
“Say, 1 haven't owned JT^wo-bit since
—wal, fer some time.”
“I’ll furnish money for Krub,” re
turned Duane. “And for whisky, too,
providing you hurry back here—with
out making trouble.”
“Shore you’re a downright good
pard,” declared Stevens in admiration
as he took the money. “I give ray
word. Buck, an’ I’m here to say I
never broke it yet Lay low an’ look
for me back quick.”
Presently Stevens rode out of sight
into the town. Duane waited, hoping
the outlaw would make good his
word.
Probably not a quarter of an hour
had elapsed before Duane heard the
dear reports of a rifle, the datter of
rapid hoof beats, and yells unmistakably
the kind to mean danger for a man like
Stevens. Duane mounted and rode to
the edge of the mesquits.
He saw a cloud of dust down the
road and a bay horse running fast.
Stevens apparently had not been
wounded by any of the shots, for he
had a steady seat in his saddle, and his
riding strude Duane as admirable. He
.carried a large pack over the pommel
and he kept looking J>ack.
The shots had ceased but the yells
increased. Duane saw several men
running and waving their arms. Then
he spurred his horse and got into a
swift stride so Stevens would not pass
him. Presently the outlaw caught up
with him.'
“Was jest cornin’ out of the store,”
yelled Stevens. “Run plumb into a
rancher who knowed me. He opened
up with a rifle. Think they’ll chase us.”
They covered several miles before
there were any signs of pursuit, and
when horsemen did move into sight out
of the cottonwoods, Duane and his
companion steadily drew farther away.
Stevens was pale and his face bore
beads of sweat The whole front of
his shirt was soaked with’ blood.
“YouTe shot!” cried Duane.
“Wal, who’n hell said I wasn’t?
Would you mind givin’ me a lift—on
this here pack?”.
Duane lifted the heavy pack down
and then helped Sevens to dismount
'Hie outlaw had a bloody foam on his
lips and he was spitting blood.
"Oh! why didn't you say so?” cried
Duane. “I never thought. You seemed
all right”
"Wal, Luke Stevens may be as
gabby as an old woman—but some
times—he doesn’t say anythin’. It
wouldn't have done no good.”
Continued Next Week
Smbr-TootheJ Tig*
Victim of Toothache
Studies being carried on at the Loa
Angeles museum show that the saber
tooth tiger traditionally associated
with tfe struggles of early mnh. had
tboth disturbances, which, they bore
without the benefits of painless den
tistry.
More than \OUU Jaws of this mighty
feline are in the possession of the
museum and some thirty observations
are being made on eaeu Jaw. A diffi
culty Ij the work is that so many
teeth dropped out after the animals
left their bones in the asphalt pits, at
Rancho la Brea. Scarcely a half
dozen jaws In the whole 1,000 possess
full complein?nts of teeth.
Carles, or tooth cavities, have not
been found in the saber-tooth jaw, al
though there are many Jaws where
the teeth are greatly worn. Pyorrhea
is probably present, but rare. Im
paction. Ihe bane of modern human
“wisdom-tooth” sufferers. Is .lenrl>
shown In Jaws of the saber-tooth
Alveolar abscesses show clear in some
of the X-rays.
Dead teeth are known In whL-h the
root-canal Is filled In. The root Itself
becomes bulbous and acquires exces
sive growths, as In aumnn teeth. The
dead teeth are always blackened.—
Kansas City Star’s Science Service.
Wedding Cake Made
Symbolic by Romans
m Some one has credited the Invention
of cakes to a certain Thearion,.a
baker, who lived in Sicily In the Fifth
century B. C. Certain it Is that tli#
Romans were extremely fond of
pastry. Cakes or “galettes” appeared
on the altars, at the tables of the
wealthy, and In the scanty repasts of
the poor. -AYt^en the Romans Invaded
England they took with them the cus
tom of breaking a cake or biscuit over
the bride’s head.
The fragments were picked up and
given her to distribute among her
friends. The custom betokened fruit
fulness, hospitality and prosperity and
was In vogue many centuries after the
Romans left England. Wedding cakes
came to be composed of many rich
and aromatic ingredients and were
crowned with an Icing of sugar and
hitter -nlnmnds—emblematical. It whs
said, of the mingled pleasure and pain
that attends married life.
The Teutonic pagans also had their
customs of offering Yule cakes of fine
flour sweetened wiih honey to the god
Thor, which In time became our
Christmas plum cake. •
Origin of Playing Cards
Many nations claim the Invention
of playing cards, hut It is generally
believed that they came fn in Asia
probably China. . The great Chinese
dictionary (1078) efutefTIuif they were
Invented In the reign of the Emperor
Seun lio in U’JU A. D. Some author!
ties are of the opinion that they were
Invented in l.’tbO to amuse Charles VI.
king of France, who was subject to
fits of inelunctioly. The Inventor pro
|M»sed to represent the four clusMes of
men In the kingdom—the clergy of
hearts; the nobility and mllltury by
the points of K|>eiirs. now known us
*|uides; white dlnuiotidb stood for citi
zens. merchants and trades people, the
clubs referring to peasants and farm
era.
Ocean Temperatures
The weather bureau says that avail
able figures of ocean surface tempera
tures for u five-year period for the
North Atlantic ocean only, show the
greatest annual ranges as between Au
gust and .lanmiry to occur over that
section ot the ocean extending lietween
Newfoundland and southern New Eng
land. Within this area the average
annual extreme is Hlmut 23 degrees.
The maximum range Is 2A degrees,
over the 5-degree square covering the
western end of Massachusetts bay and
the waters immediately south of New
England. Here the extremes—mid
summer and midwinter—are 08 de
grees and 43 degrees.
on’t fail to read the first installment of our
New Serial Story~“The Last of the Duanes’*
is one of Zane Grey’s best stories. •
The Call
The late Marcus Loew, the movie
millionaire, said one day to a New
York reporter;
“When a man don’t like his work
his work don’t like him.
**A friend of mine hurried Into his
office and found his clerk asleep out
morning at ten o’clock, it wasn’t the
first time, either.
“My friend waked the clerk up and
said:
“‘You can go, Meyer, at the end of
the month.’
“ ‘My gosh,' eald Meyer, ‘what need
to cull me so soon for that?’”
Gems From Doctor Johnsing
On this occasion Goldsmith, Bos
well, and Doctor Johnsing were mak
ing merry in a hay field.
Boswell—Sir, bow does a horse take
tils bay?
Goldsmith—Sir, a la cart. Too
might know that
Doctor Jobniing—Why, sir, I don’t
know as to that Some horses like It
a la mowed.—Louisville Courier-Jour
nal.
Sure Sign
Little Robbie waa bragging to his
small churns that they bad a new little
girl at bit home.
“Why, Robbie r exclaimed his moth
er, overbearing the con versa Hon,
“baby’s not a girl, he’s a boy. What
made yon think he’s a girl?”
“You can’t feot me.” stoutly main-
tallied Rohhle. “Of course It’s • girt;
ain’t yon powdering It nil the ll&eer
ANEW
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what others may be like in the future. Come
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Uiclud* lotaoat handling rhmrgaa. C amoral Motor a Tin— Toymamt
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Youmans Motor Co’.
Allendale, So. Car.
TREASURER’S TAX NOTICE
The County Treasurer*! office will be open for the purpose of receiving
taxes from October 15th, 1928, to March 15th. 1929. A penalty of one par
cent, will be added to all unpaid taxes on Jsnutry 1st, 1929; two per cent.
Febrsuiy 1st, 1929, and seven per cent. March 1st, 1929. Tax bool^ closing
and executions issuing after March 16lh, 1929. Taxes are ascertained by
the valuation multiplied by mills levisd. Treasurer’s duplicate as made up
by Auditor lists real estate and does not Itemize personal property, which
must be secured from Auditor. When inquiring as to amount of taxes dot,
you are required tb give eoch and every tax district you own property In
as a separate tax receipt is issued for each district for real estate or per
sonal .property. Your tax receipt, giving number of acres covered by it.
K
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No. 23—Barbary Branch .
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No. 16—Green’s
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No. 10—Healing Springs.
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No. 23—Hercules
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No. 9—Hilda
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No. 52—Joyce Bhranch
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No. 34—Kline . —
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No. 8—Long Branch
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No. 54—Meyer’s Mill ..
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No. 14—Mt. Calvary —
No. 25—New Forest
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No. 38—Oak Grove
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62
The commutation road tax of $3.00 must be paid by all male ci
between the ages of 21 and 55 years. All male citizens between the
of 21 and 60 years are liable to poll tax of $1.00. . - — .
Annual capitation dog tax of $1.25 per head, payable during
of January, on all dogs, male and female, old end young* except
pups (Set Acts 1924, No. 655, at page 1088.)
It is the duty of each school trustee in each school district to
that this tax is collected or aid the Magistrate in the enf
the provisions of this Act.
Checks will not be aceeifted fer taxes under any
cept at the risk of the taxpayer.*—(The County
right to bold all receipts paid by check until said
. Tax receipts win be released only
or certified cheeks.
JJks. L
l ..'-ter*.*: