The Barnwell people-sentinel. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1925-current, December 10, 1936, Image 6
'Ff \
T>« lUrmwril P.»»l» Awtl—I. Bwyiitfl. a C- Tlurad.y. D«t—h«r 10. l>M
GUNLOCK RANCH
by Frink H. Spiormon
CHAPTER IX—Continued
Rnwdy pulled » moment it toll mn*
tache. “No hurry," he mid reflectlre*
ly. “It’i early yAt for him. If he'i
our man. he‘a got a pocketful of money
to blow." He thought a minute fur
ther. "Look here, Scotch 1 Tell our
boys orer there at the bar to string
out quiet and meet back of the barn
Watch your chance. Speak around to
the hitch rack and get the eorrel down
to the barn on an old feed-bill claim,
ril tackle Barney In the aaloon and
gee what chance there la to gettln’ him
down there. Got a rope ready?"
“I have."
"Vamos!"
McAlpIn Joined the men at the bar.
Snwdy slipped out the back door and.
half a block dotvn the alley, walked
out Into Klver street and down to the
Red Front saloon.
But from the moment the big adven
turer stepped out of the back door of
one saloon and In at the front door of
the other, a curious change took place.
He had left Spotts’ place sober—
Sawdy was In fact a very moderate
man. He strode Into the Red Front
reeling.
The bar was well filled. Snwdy saw
at a glance that among the men lined
up there were i number of town loaf
ers who never drank except at some
body’s expense. When Sawdy caught
light of Redstock with the loafers
■ronnd him. Inference was swift and
correct Barney had money.
The saloonkeeper, Harry Boland,
foxy-eyed and alert it the head of the
bar, saw Sawdy stagger In through the
green baize; he watched the big fel
low closely. Sawdy zigzagged back to
wards the loafers among whom Barney
waa bolding forth.
Boland. ■ man of ripe experience In
appraising all stages of Intoxication,
was auaplcloaa since Henry Sawdy was
ao drunk; Roland had never before
seen Mm Intoxicated. Rut Sawdy waa
aa artist isd did not make the mis
take of the actor who plays the sober
man trying to appear drunk. Sawdy
waa the drunkea maa trying to appear
Barney gravely, thea of
fer everybody la Ramey
honor Having llagered
iod. Sawdy mat his eye
apoa the thirsty cowd ,
ret agar of his right hand
under each wtag of hla
tarn, drew from a vest
« eagle, a ad made
aay siaa here fee twenty-
pieces' It was a fairly
ocaaaa he well knew all
at together maid sot raise
tweaty dotiara. Rat he had ea object
la view.
Ramey, after some ahllly thaTylng.
accepted the rhallewge He aahed Ho
lead to lead him • gold piece Whea
Bo la ad produced a twenty dullar rota
and loosed It not te Harney. It did aot
take Sawdy long ta figure eat that
Ramey had atoaey and that It waa la
the keep, ng of the aa loon keeper
Sawdy. aotorlooaly larky at matcblng.
Want oat offer several trials; he gulf
forty dollars to the bod Rat he had
Harney greatly Inflated by hla triumph,
with the whole mom crowding eagerly
around the cooteetante
After a round of drlnka at Harney’s
charge Sawdy brought the talk aroand
to a fine looking a»rrel outalde at the
hitch rack. Harney claimed IL Sawdy
wanted to buy It Harney demurred —
It waan*t for mIc.
Holnnd heard the talk. He drew
Barney to tho rear end of the bar.
• Sell It to him, you fool." whispered
Roland. "Don't you ace he’s drunk as
a fiddler? You can get twice what the
horse Is worth."
Thus encouraged. Barney stepped
out of doors with Sawdy, followed by
a llt’o circle of the curious.
The horse was gone. This fact
caused no great excitement; Sawdy
suggested he had got loose and strayed
up or down the street and that they
take a look around to find him. The
curiosity of the crowd weakened, and
they re-entered the eiiloon, hoping for
another chance to get a drink. Sawdy
and Barney walked down the street to
gether, wrangling as they went over
the mischance and the merits of the
missing horse. As the pair passed Mc-
Alpln’s barn It occurred to Sawdy they
had better look In and ask for infor
mation.
CHAPTER X
A hanging lantern lighted the barn
gangway dimly. Sawdy’g call for a
hostler was answered by McAlpIn hlm-
•elf, who, lantern In hand, ambled In
his peculiar gait briskly forward.
“Hello, Mac,” exclaimed Sawdy, wav
ing like a tall tree In a number four
breeze. “We’re looking for Barney’s
horse,” he continued gruffy—“got loose
up the street Just now—seen anythin’
of a stray?"
McAlpIn, raising his lantern looked at
Rebstock. "Why, yes, I seen a stray,’’
be udmlted sulkily.
“Was It a sorrel?" asked Sawdy with
some hope.
“It was a sorrel, Sawdy; saddled and
bridled. What about It?"
"It’a probably Barney's horse. Let’s
see IL Where Is It?"
McAlpIn Jerked his head back over
his shoulder. "Id the box stall Your
horse, Barney?"
"Suae, It*i my horse."
"Right this way, Barney," returned
llrAlpla. "Put out your cigars, boys,
s along with me," be added,
a hand. Us arvtdsd dews lbs
Copyright Wank H. Si
WNU Sarvlo*
gangway, Rebstock and Sawdy after
him, stopped at the stall box, bung his
lantern on a high gangway hook, un
latched the stall door, and pointed
within. ‘There’* your horse, Barney.
Maybe I better give him a bit of oats
before you go. . . . No? Water then?"
Rebstock and Sawdy had stepped
Into the stall with McAlpIn. The liv
eryman led the horse out. Rebstock
started to follow; Sawdy laid a hand
on hla shoulder. “Just a minute. I
want to talk to you, Barney. We'll
Join you In a minute, Mac. Get out
the black bottle. But leave the lan
tern."
"What's up?" asked Rebstock, eyeing
Sawdy closely, nnd always suspicious.
Sawdy was standing backed against,
one side of the box stall. “Barney,’
he said In confidential fashion, T’d like
to have Just a little horse-to-horse talk
with you."
“What d’you mean, horse-to-horse
talk?” snapped Barney.
"Just this: Do you feel Just exactly
right, leavin’ your money with Harry
Boland?"
“What do you mean?”
"Do you feel safe? I ask you as
man to man, Barney, and an old friend
do you feel safe, leaving a roll with
Boland?"
Barney fumbled mentally. "Why
shouldn’t I?" he conntered bluntly.
“I’d hate to see you. after this trou
ble you’ve had. lose your money with
Harry Boland," persisted the cowman
I’ll tell yon honest—and yon can tell
the critter hlmeelf If yoo like—I
wouldn't never leave five hundred of
my money with Harry Boland."
"Never had It to leave, did yon?"
"Well, no foolin'. Barney, wouldn't
do IL Bo that'* what I aay, aa man
to man—keep your money In the bank,
not In a dive. Have you got • receipt
for your money?"
“No."
"How much money are yoe leavin'
with him?"
•None of your damned bast Bean,
shat ■ bow mock. I’m headin' np the
reeL Oet oet of the way."
•Dent get tore. Barney. I’m mean la
the beet for yen. Jeet welt a minute
an' m walk np the street with yen
gettln kind ef thirsty mynelf. Did yee
r
He Could See Rebetock’s Eyes
Flashing Green.
hear. Burney, about Bill Denison's
place gettln’ burned down?"
"I heard about a lire out that way—
what about It?" demanded Rebstock.
"Why, nothin’—nothin’ at alL But,
Burney, this Is why I wanted to talk
to you: There’s folks here In town
that don’t know you as well aa I do.
(ire mean enough to say you know a
ot more about that fire than you want
to tell. I claim they’re wrong—what’ll
I tell ’em?"
“Tell ’em to go to hell."
“Suppose they won’t do It, Barney?"
asked Sawdy calmly.
Rebstock shuffled angrily. “Look
here, Sawdy. You can’t bunk me any
more. If they don’t want to go to bell,
you go for ’em.”
With this suggestion, Rebstock start
ed again for the stall door. Sawdy’s
hand came down a bit heavier on Bar
ney’s shoulder. The slippery fellow
tried to Jerk away when Sawdy’s fin
gers sank deep Into the coat and shirt
of his victim. “Barney,” he protested
solemnly, “I don’t like to see an old
friendship broken up by thoughtless
words.”
“A hell of a friendship," snorted
Rebstock.
“Barney, I want to be friends with
you. What’s the facts about that fire?"
With a volley of oaths, Rebstock tor*
loose from Sawdy’s grasp, backed hur
riedly away, and tried to spring over
the side wall. Sawdy was too quick.
He Jumped to him, caught him by the
arm, and slummed him halfway across
the stall. Barney landed on hla hands
and knees, sprang to hts feet, and
faced hla old time acquaintance with
wicked eye*. In the dim light of the
lantern, high In the gangway, Sawdy
caught the (lash of the blade of a knife
—lying. Mexican fashion, la Barney's
right band.
Both were gofck. Rebatock, amallar
and lighter, could strike and spring
like a wildcat, bat he faced a foe who.
though larger and heavier, waa es
teemed among hla fellows as one hard
to corner. Sawdy held the door side
of the atall with hla back to tho UgbL
HO could see Rebstock’s eyes flashing
green. Rebstock wanted to get dose
enough to Sawdy to cut him and Jump
through the door; but he feared the
terrific grip of the cowman’s Angers on
his wrists before he should get the
knife into play.
Sawdy carried his gun—Rebstock
had left his own with Boland—but he
disdained to use It' on a partly un
armed man. It was no. part of his pro
gram to get himself embroiled with the
law by shooting the criminal; whai he
and his cronies wanted from Rebstock
was information.
It took only an Instant for Sawdy to
perceive that he could not safely hold
hla stand In front of the stall door. The
lantern light was too uncertain—he
could not follow Rebstock’a eyes—part
of the time he could hardly follow bis
Jumpy steps.
In a moment, both men, one big, the
other small, were Jumping about the
stall like boxers stripped for the ring.
But Sawdy, though big, was the fastest
on his feet among the cowmen that
rode the Gunlock ranges. He had lit
tie alcohol aboard, was naturally as
quick as a flash, and knew he was fac
ing the moat dangerous man with a
knife along the Spanish Sink*. Ten
youthful years spent among Mexican
bandits, together with a lean and
lumpy physical make-up, had given
Barney Rebetock the name of a mean
man with a knife, and Sawdy had no
Intention of adding to the outlaw’s rep
utation as a killer, If he could help It.
The fight was In the lap of the gods.
A misstep or ■ foot slip might end It
any second. Sawdy waa hoping hla
comrade* secreted out In the corral
would hear the scuffle and come In.
Rot bo waa Just stubborn enough not
to call for help.
Barney, enraged at hla plIghL was
breathing hard, and wind was too pre-
rioon te waste in words. This silent
struggle for the one slight advantage
that would end the light went ea te
th* music ef jerky breaths end nimble
footing. It was soon • question ns te
•hone wind would give not •ret—
Sawdy, heavier, was at • disadvantage
l* eoduran x. While they feinted and
Jumped shoot his foot slipped.
Barney eaw the opening. He longed
forward. Bawdy Instinctively whirled
•idewtne and threw op bln knee In save
hit stomach. The savage thrust of
Barney** knife caught the calf *f his
leg. As tha cowman went down, his
•nger* gripped Barney’s wrist With
a mere twist ef the deadly grip learned
long ago la Panhandle knife ighra he
snapped like matches the lore bone* ef
Barney's forearm.
The wiry eat law screamed. He was
through; th* rear gangway doors werv
•sag open, and the confederate* cam*
rvanlag la from th* corral
Prom the dark seas ef the box stall
cams only the swish ef hard hrvathiac
and lb* oaths and cries ef Barney.
I^efrver grasped the hall ef the lan
tern and threw the light rays within.
•Henry r he yelled la alarm.
"What's a matter. pard? What's
wrong?" He nnlstched the gets of the
stsll ss he called and hastened Inside
with Scott and Page at hla heels. Me
Alpla ran down from the office. It was
a moment before Lefever could make
out Just uhat waa happening on the
floor, as Barney, half choked, writhed
under the remorseless grip that closed
hla windpipe. Sawdy. spread out on
hla stomach, lay. a huge bulk, with one
arm over hla antagonist. Only hla
heary breathing Indicated life. "Hen
ry I" exclaimed Leferer. “What the
hell's happened?"
"Nothing’s happened yet, John. Look
at my leg. Where’s hla knife?"
"God a’mlghtyl It’s In your leg,
Henry."
Lefever started to draw It out. "Hold
on, John! Don’t touch that till you
get a tourniquet on. Who'a here?"
Hla heavy bloodshot eyes turned on
ScotL “Bob! Look-see whether he’a
slit an artery or a vein. Hold the lan
tern there, John."
Scott found blood spurting from the
wound. He fashioned a tourniquet
from a thong of rawhide.
"Get up and get Carpy, quick!” mut
tered McAlpIn to Page. "What you
moonin’ about? Henry la bad cut.
Run. Ben!”
"All right. You hold Barney,"
growled Page, turning over hla writh
ing prisoner.
Turning to , the prostrate cowman
while Scott twisted the tourniquet, Mc-
Alpin, gripping Rebstock, gave orders
to Sawdy; the liveryman always took
the stage. "Henry!” he shouted, In his
excitement. "Lay right where you are.
Don’t stir till Carpy comes. Why didn’t
you call for help?” he thundered at
Sawdy.
"Ain’t never learned how yet,” re
torted the wounded man majestically.
Carpy reached the box stall ten min
utes later.
The doctor held up the lantern
"Hell's bells!" he exclaimed to McAl
pin and the hostler. "Don’t leave the
man lying In this dirt. Henry,"—he
knelt at Sawdy’s bead—"what have
they been doing? Who stock you?"
"Doc," declared the notorious bach
elor, "you might say I stock myself
Sew me np and send the bill to my fa
ther-la-law after 1 get married, wU
youl"
(TO BS CONTINLUH
The
Chnstmas
•by
Blanche Tanner Dillin
T HE snow was beautiful but
made one feel somewhat
lonely, Nancy Atwell thought
as she stood at the window watch*
ing the falling snow. For an in
stant she regretted refuging the ur
gent invitations of her two brothers
and two sisters to spend the holi
days with them; -Each of them
had been insistent, but were all so
far away it was out of the ques
tion, financially, and she didn’t
want them to furnish the money—
and then for years she had spent
Christmas here in the Connecticut
hills with grandmother and she
couldn’t imagine it seeming like
Christmas any place else.
Peggy North, her old and dear
friend, had written that She could
not get away for the holidays, so
hoped that Nancy could be with
her.
Nancy had done little toward any
sort of festivities and had left put
ting up the decorations until the
last minute. In fact she hadn’t
bought anything new—the old ones
would do well enough. Perhaps
she might just as well go up to the
attic now and see what there was.
It might seem more like Christmas
with some decorations around.
As she opened a drawer in an old
chest her hand touched grand
mother’s old quilt—"Grandmoth
er’s happiness quilt,” as she al
ways called it It %ai just such a
day as this ao long ago, when sit
ting at grandmother’s feet down
in the ’’setting” room the had
heard the history of the pieces in
the quilL There was no place hern
in th* attic to look at it, ao togeth
er with wreaths and garlands of
(Be History ef (Be
tinsel aha carried the quilt doom
th* roosa where ah# had heard
history for th* first time, and
spread It out on the bad.
Her* waa a piece from the dress
grandmother had worn when
grandfather proposed Here waa
the piece of grandmother’s wed-
| ding dress—others from Christen
ing robes, party d* eases, wedding
dresses and dresses worn on other
happy occasions—some almost in
shreds, but stiil enough left to re-
1 call the stories to Nancy as Grand
mother Atwell had told them. How
grandmother had loved telling
them and how she had laughed at
some memory. Nancy had com
mented on what a happy Ufa
grandmother had had. No one ever
had a happier one. grandmother
assured her. How cheerful, unself
ish, grandmother had been, never
dwelling on her own troubles, but
ready to help others in theirs.
Nancy recalled the times grand
mother had been the means of
making the path a Uttle smoother,
the pain less keen, by the gift of
something Nancy especially want
ed or the fulfilling of some cher
ished plan of Nancy’s. And when
Nancy was left alone in the old
home and grandmother sent for
her she must have guessed just
how much Nancy wanted the rest
and quiet the bills would give her.
Nancy never forgot the smile and
embrace with which grandmother
greeted her — no rehearsing of
painful experiences, but plans im
mediately made for happy days in
the future. Nancy’s loss had been
grandmother’s as well, but grand
mother had never let others know
the shadows that crossed her path.
What a satisfaction it must oe to
be able to help others as grand
mother had. Then Nancy saw how
she could do the same, in a meas
ure at least. First she could give
Anna a vacation over the holidays.
Next she would wire Peggy she
would be with her over Christmas.
As she laid the quilt away after
carrying out her plans, deep grati
tude filled her heart for if she
hadn’t found the quilt she would
never have known the happiness
she now felt.
C Wtsun N«wvp*P«i'Unleo. , j
Hobby to Restore Youth
An elderly Minneapolis man for
got old eg* and bio l pressure,
and went a long way toward re
covering his youth by building
a miniature tabernacle of Moses,
according to biblical specifica
tions.
His experience is not far differ
ent from that of all who have
discovered the life-giving value of
a hobby, who know that in a lei
sure time vocation, be it ever so
nutty, there is relaxation, zest and
profound satisfaction. —Minnea
polis Star.
rran . MEDICAL JODMAL
THIS: ABOUT COLDS!
(of dMM docton)
led dMoiiolMUtv* that coldsrankfromanadd
coodhioe of the bedr. To ovwcom tUa ttor
pmcribevertouaalfcaHaa.’Thet’awh^ today—
LUDEN'S coTSU 5/
NOW CONTAIN AN
ALKALINE FACTOR
16
KINDS
SOUPS
o/
FINER
FLAVOR
SatpA Jbout&f HufititTcrUX
Oht, (PliiiipA. Di&CtfrUA
MEAT PERFECT
AFTER 8 YEARS
IN OPEN ROOM
It-or-Nof*
should tall Mr. “Belleva-
Klpley thia story that
from John S. Hill, etore-
la Booth Carolina. T hav*
tack door of my
ho writs*, “a atrip of moat
with FIGARO Coodenaed
Smoke BOUT YEARS ago. This
piece of moat la ribbed belly, a boot
U Incbea long and 6 Inc be# wide It
Is Ann. tweet and Bound as a dol
lar—neither rancid nor apolled la
nay manner, and has kept perfectly
theo* eight years. FIGARO la the
finest thing I hav# ever eeen for
I hav* boon using It
over since It was
finrt pot on the
market."
(Signed)
John 8. Hill.
Mr. Hill has to
buy the meat be
curoa. so bo can
not afford to looo
any of IL Yet the
average farm
does lose 50 lbs.
every year, be
cause the meat
Is not thorough
ly smoked. Dur
ing cold weather,
keeping meat la a simple matter.
Rot when summer comes, or a warm
spell during the winter, look ooL
Rancidness develops. Yon suddenly
find the meat alive with "skippers,"
or worms. Green mold appears on
IL Or It dries out and hardens.
Thorough smoking Is the only
known way to prevent all these
troubles. But how? Everyone knows
how uncertain the old smokehouse
method la. Other so-called smoking
methods, or substitutes for amok-
N:
ALCOLG1N
Ing. are likewise risky. How can yoa
tell whether or not the meat Is ther-
ovghly smoked? But if you want to
be SURE all your meat will keap
perfectly right through the summer
months, wash It thoroughly after
It comes out of the cure and brush
FIGARO Condensed Smoke over
•very square Inch. FIGARO pene
trate*. It keeps meat from drying
out. It positively PREVENTS skip
pers, green mold, or rancidness
Flavor? Ton’ll aay the meat la the
finest you ever ate. And the cost Is
leas than one-third cent per pound I
HAS SMOKED OVER TWO
BILLION POUNDS OF MEAT
More than 30 years ago, 8. Eu
gene Colgln, Texas farmer boy, dis
covered how to condense smoke te
Hqnld form. With addition of a fe*
Ingredients to Improve the flavor,
etc.. It la called FIGARO Condensed
Smoke. Since then, FIGARO has
been used to smoke more than two
billion pounds of meat 1 Tour dealer
has It, or can get It; In 32-oz. size
(enough for 500 lbs.), $1.50; or the
16-oz. size, (enough for 250 lbs.),
$1.00. But DON’T TAKE CHANCES I
Use FIGARO on every pound this
year.—Adv.
THE FIGARO COs DALLASJEX.
Manufactann ot Smoka Products
FIGARO Coadensed Sanke-Barbecae Smoke Sauce-Sausage Seasoning
*
POCKETS
By GLUYAS WILLIAMS
Fm* Sftiftot MO IM-
aMORfeBU MHISriEW
&WDHY surf
PUfSOIAM HAHDKERWfr
M BREAtf KlOttf, ALSO
AfOOMfAM PCM AMD
ms a Dozen vfHcn.
SWS PHD SIDE fbaatf 100K& tVER COU-ECfiON
a wad or shutfe, to or GRcawts; Piet**
him Hf WAMft-foRCltefJ POStaRDVHMlPROfefi
ft fltaE 5EUER, AND AN AMD ADmytM SftfiSft
AffuftcAf uttft sr what ft discard
CHRISTMAS TIME
I HAVE always thought * of
Christmas time, when it has
come around, apart from the
veneration due to its sacred
name and origin—if anything be
longing to it can be apart from
that—aa a good time, a kind, for
giving, charitable, pleasant time.
—Charles Dickens.
STUTTS HCM AU , ft*
wrti pocket
DOCK AND IN 019 fiOtf.
Ptfe IH4IDE ftCKif
up* a imu IfcOUtU
6E<$* A 1W>. HU NAB-
MONICA AMP A KtfrtOtf
KL0N6)NBb Ptft toil-
ft* ftOOft
ADK »MIJI91
AND ENP0 fSOtl H6
ftfill. AND A U5ED
NMpKfBCMgT
W0* HA* *US
rtru> tor now soiY
SUM MOCK MORI
WAMllAB AND COM-
so* nafttit
maiMciEMM gjgfc