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THE SUN, NEWBERRY, S. C, FRIDAY APRIL 7, 1939 Mountain man e H. C. WV.—WNU Urtkm /! HaHH&i Qictian SesUal By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE SYNOPSIS Jim Cotter, foreit ranger, had been mya- teriously killed In the pursuit of his duties. Cordon Breck. his best friend, takes over Cotter's job. hoping to avenge his murder. "Dad" Cook, forest superintendent, warns Breck that the Tlllson brothers, mountain moonshiners, are apt to give him trouble. Before leaving for his mountain station, Breck buys an outfit and decides to attend the public dance run by the Tlllsons In Lone Tree. At the dance Breck dances with Louise Temple, pretty "cowgirl" for whom he takes a liking. Unknown to Breck. she Is being courted by Art Tlllson. youngest of the three Tlllson brothers. Angered by Breck's attentions to the girl, he picks a fijbt which ends Indecisively when someone sets fire to the hall. Breck and his chief set out for the mountain station. Halfway, they are met by Sierra Slim, moss-back mountaineer who is also in the forest service. Around the campfire that night, Breck learns from Si erra that tracking down Jim Cotter's mur derer must be done cautiously and by de vious methods. Cook, Breck and Sierra con tinue their ascent of the mountains. Stop ping to rest, they sight the Tlllsons. re turning to their hideaway. Next day. Cook sends Breck and Sierra In or.e direction to repair the telephone line, while he takes an other. Over the campfire at night Sierra tells Breck more about Louise Temple. CHAPTER VI—Continued “You’d say Louy belongs here,” Sierra explained, “because you found her here. That kid’s a thor oughbred. Let me tell you. There’s been four generations of Temples grazing their stuff on Temple Mead ow. Then aiong came a girl and the old man tried to make her over into a boy. Didn’t work at all. Louy went to school and got ideas about paintin’ pictures and then told Tom she was clearin’ out, goin’ to ♦Le city and learn more. She did too, went plumb to New York— studyin’. I seen some of her pic tures and they’re pretty, sure enough. “Then two years- ago her old man got throwed and is crippled for the rest of his days. Did Louy keep up her fight with him? Not any! She ain’t scrappin’ a fellow when he’s down. That’s why she’s back here, tidin’ range the way Tom has al ways wanted her to ride. But the poor kid I God, I know she’s given up everything!" Breck sat with thoughts dashing back to reconstruct their meeting at the dance. Again he heard Louise aay, “I hope we Rubes haven’t dis appointed you." Now he began to realize her meaning. He had taken too much for granted that night. “Will she be up here?" he asked. "Yep; with the drive on the fif teenth.” Sierra’s gaze speculated upon him for some time. Suddenly he said, “You know, you ought to marry that girll Yes sir, you two would mate right well." Breck laughed. Sierra’s putting it like that gave him a queer start. He shrugged to pass off the feeling. “What about Art Tillscn, Slim?” “That’s a fact. She favors him some." “Can you tell me why?” “God knows. Unless she thinks rite can help him. Art’s in the wrong corral." From what Breck had seen he considered young Tillson the same sort as his two brothers. He said S9. “You haven’t studied ’em enottgh," Sierra asserted. “Ain’t none of them three alike. Jud, he’s • fightin’ man and don’t claim to be nothin’ else. I jan’t help but admire that sort. Hep, he’s the skunk. Sneakin’, low-down in every way. Art's just a kid, and if he had a chance he’d make a good straight cowman. He don’t know it himself. Right now he struts around and feels important as part of the Till son gang, but there’s something un der all that. Look at his eyes, close, next time you come together." For an hour Breck lay back on his saddle, while Sierra Slim, talk ing on, looked deep into the lives of mountain folk and saw there traits that they themselves might not un derstand, r < They reached the end of their line St Kern River, and swinging back, turned toward headquarters station by way of Sulphur Creek. Most of the return line was badly down, delaying them past the allot- ed week. It was the twelfth of June when they rode into headquarters. “Breck,” Cook said over the table that night, “you can figure on mov ing to Rock House day after tomor row. That’s the fourteenth, just one night ahead of the cattle drive. Si erra stays on patrol here. Tomor row the Kern Peak lockout will be coming in. You and Slim will pack him to the top.” It was a lean-bodied man with iron gray hair that rode into head quarters the next morning astride s government mule and leading two packs. “Hello, Donny!” Cook hailed him, then introduced him to Breck. “This is Donaldson, the man who spots Hres for you to fight. You’ll cuss him out plenty before the season ends!” , Donaldson swung from his mule. Breck looked- into eyes as cold and keen as steel bullet points. The man had a hermit’s brown expres sionless face, and his voice was thin from long disuse. “Howdy,” was his only remark. ffo prospected on the desert. Cook had explained, spending the winter there alone, and each summer came onto this even more lonely lookout post. CHAPTER VII There had been some thunder dur ing the night, and as Breck threw back his tarp at dawn, a storm threatened south over the country into which he was to move. A cloud i urled through the morning sky like u black fist with forearm resting on me eastern summit. It expanded auickly. Pink flashes played on the i.pper side. By the time he had wrangled up his animals and was leady to pack, that one cloud cov ered the whole range. "Sharpen up your axes and in spect your tools first thing,” Cook advised him. “There’s fire up yon der, though this is pretty early for lightning to strike us.” Breck’s start was later than he had hoped. Ascent was slow. At noon he ate in his saddle, pushed on until he crossed the divide, and about three o’clock halted to scan the new country. It was not an inviting area. From this view it was apparently impass able, except afoot, where a man must go over the cliffs on ropes and trust to luck. Yet the Tillsons used it, and they were not walking men. Breck unfolded his contour map. he found a white patch oil Goofs tarpaulin. Nearby was one small hoofprint. He followed on. Black night came before he passed a growth of year ling pine and glimpsed ahead the open space of a meadow. He dis mounted, tied Kit and continued on afoot. Where trees ended and grass began, something sharp struck his arm. He leaped back, gun drawn, then realized it was the barbed wire of a fence. That meant a pasture and perhaps a cabin. He was rain-soaked; the wind now was close to freezing. De ciding to leave his horse hidden in the trees, he moved on alone. Half an hour of feeling along the fence brought him to a corral. Beyond loomed a small log house. It was deserted; even from where he stopped he could make out the door swinging on a loose hinge. Yet he approached with gun ready and stood near the casement before peering in. When he struck a match the room showed wet and empty. Ir the flash of light he looked into all corners, then to the ceiling. Small logs placed across the beams formed a loft that dripped with wa ter from a poor roof. The whole place was flooded, but offered shel ter from the wind, and there was an iron stove at the further end. Suddenly he paused in his search. Something in the wind? Its moaning This one spoke abruptly. “He ain’t here yet.” Rfcply came in a low mutter from beyond the doorway. “We can wait. Let’s get in out of the rain.” Breck knew this last was Jud Till* son. They reached the end of their line at Kern River. reading the lines that denoted the meadows and canyons. At Sulphur Creek was a blank patch marked “Unsurveyed.” He thrust the map impatiently into his pocket. Time was too short to day for a ride very far down, but then, gauging with his eyes, he picked up a transverse ridge that left the bank of Sulphur Canyon a short distance below its head, and turning south dropped toward Rock House. It looked like an easy route. He could explore a little of the coun try down there, then follow the ridge back to his main trail. Goof objected. Breck took a loop of the lead rope around his saddle horn and snaked him. Soon they were sliding from the summit on a long swale of loose rock. Upon reaching the canyon he entered abruptly into twilight. Presently he came to a small, yellow-crusted pool. A little further on a waterfall blocked the canyon bottom, forcing him to dismount and lead his train to the next level. When he mounted again. Goof suddenly threw up his head and faced the opposite bank, ears pointing. Breck let himself back to the ground. He stood tense, watching across the hollow of his saddle. Nothing showed in the pines. Only a far- off roar broke the silence. It sound ed like another waterfall, yet it grew louder, approaching from above. Abruptly a new note joined in; a wail that rose and diminished. Black clouds resting on the canyon top began to flow like a river down between the walls. The roar in creased, though muffled still, as if all the winds of the heavens were penned behind great doors that were about to be swung wide. Again Breck raised himself to his stirrup. The sharp crack that sound ed instantly might have been the first charge of thunder, save for the whine past his head. He dodged. The lead rope burned through his hand as Goof reared. Custer lunged with him. They broke away togeth er, bucking at their packs as they raced down the canyon. Kit showed his mountain breeding. He lowered his head and stood mo tionless as Breck leveled his gun over the saddle and aimed at a rock where he had caught a flash of fire. But that first shot was not repeated. Their trail was distinct for half a mile, but soon rain broke in spouts and after that he rode by chance, hoping to find his mules in a meadow or halted with lead ropes tangled in down timber. He saw nothing until having descended to a shelf. had changed. He stood motionless in the dark. Then the sound came again. Hoofs thumped on the sog gy earth. He judged two animals. It might be his packs coming toward the meadow. But then above the splash of rain about the cabin, he heard a man’s muttering. Instinct carried him a step closer to the door, away from the confining walls. Then he halted. The thud of approach out side was too near. Another muffled voice joined the first. Though the tones were indistinct, he could guess the owners. This was Tillson country. That shot awhile ago told plainly enough what had brought them out tonight. He glanced to the loft and reached up instantly as a dim shape moved out there in the dark. Tumult of the storm covered the noise as he sprang, caught one log, and drew himself across the others that formed a crude floor. Face down to the cracks, he lay for a breath less moment while the thud of horses’ hoofs ended and a man came in below. CHAPTER VHi The horses thumped on again. Presently there sounded the cieak of a corral gate being opened and closed. Then both men returned to the cabin. “Hell of a night,” one began. "He ort to be here. Ain’t no—” “Shut up your grumbling and rus tle some wood!” This was Jud again. v The other tramped out. Tne cabin was as quiet and dark as if deserted. Breck peered through the crack be tween loft poles, knowing he was within a yard or two of the man down there, yet eould see nothing. Clumping of boots returned. Wood crashed down. Stove lids rattled. A match flared and soon after that the room was flooded in red light, for the men left a lid off and warmed their hands over the open flame. In a moment, when they took off their hats, hanging them to dry on pegs behind the stove, Breck had his first full look at Hep. His head was bent a little, but his face was clearly revealed in the firelight. Dark hair fell in strings over a flat, narro$ forehead. He had the same thin features as the other brothers, yet weaker than ‘theirs, with a loose, puffed-out mouth. Both men stood through a time of silence. Hep spoke first, sullenly. “He ortn’t keep us waitin’ like thisl" Jud said nothing “Maybe he ain’t goin’ to come at all,” Hep persisted. “I told him to,” Jud answered. “Yeah, but Art’s gettin’ damned independent these days. He needs a good handlin’.” “Whatever Art’s getting is none of your business,” Jud said evenly. “And if any handling is to be done. I’ll do it. See?” Hep's gaze shifted before his brother’s. His loose lips opened, closed. He glbwered as he rolled a cigarette. Rain leaked down upon Breck’s back, trickled along his sides and fell through the logs where he lay. Not much of the stove’s heat came up to him. His outstretched arms grew numb. He was certain that more than an hour passed. Jud and Hep smoked, stamped their feet, said nothing, un til abruptly Jud threw down his cig arette. “Cover the stove!” The lid slipped over the hole. In stantly the room was dark. Breck heard the men move outside and took advantage of that to shift his body. Soon a low whistle came from the distance. Jud spoke from close beyond the door. “All right. Art. We’re here.” He and Hep returned, followed in a moment by the brother who pushed back the stove lid as they had done, swung the rain from his hat and hung it on a peg. “Well," Jud asked at once, "did you?” “I stopped him—yes.” “WhaC do you mean—’stopped him’?” * “Just what I say. I turned him from Sulphur. His packs broke loose and God knows .where they led him.” “You dam’ fool!” Hep cut in. “You didn’t get him?” < Breck saw Art’s young face, red above the stove, harden in scornful lines. “I ain’t shootin’ in the hack,” he sneered. "Like you dol” (TO BE CONTINUED) Bell Presented to Illinois Church by King of France Towed Up River by Hand Closely associated with the early history of Illinois is an old church bell, cast in the year 1741. It was presented to the congregation of the Catholic church at Kaskaskia by the king of France. It required two years’ time for the bell to make the journey from France to Illinois. It was shipped to New Orleans, and from there it was towed up the Mississippi river by manpower, the men walking along the river bank and pulling by ropes the raft con taining the bell. The historic bell, whose mellow tones were the first of the kind to be heard in the Upper Mississippi valley, weighs 650 pounds and is 22 inches high. One side is ornament ed with the royal li • s of France in relief. The other siae bears a cross and pedestal, the top and arms of the cross terminating in grouped fleur de lis. The bell also carries the following inscription in French: “To the people of Illinois country for their adoration.” Since its arrival at Kaskaskia nearly two centuries ago, writes an Ava, 111., correspondent in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, the bell has served under the flags of France, England and the United States. Doubtless one of the most dramatic events associated with it occurred on the night of July 4, 1778, when Kaskaskia was captured from the British by Col. George Rogers Clark. Because of his small force, Clark was compelled to terrorize the citi zens of Kaskaskia and they were made to believe that a horrible fate awaited them. On the following morning a mournful farewell meet ing was held in the church, after which several prominent numbers of the congregation called on Clark and informed him they were ready to meet their doom. The oft’cer then undeceived them by disclosing his true intentions. He also as sured them they had nothing to fear if they would support the American cause. In his memoirs Clark states that this announcement turned sor row into great joy and an elaborats celebration was held. On this oc casion the bell pealed forth “lon| and loud.” Has Largest Collection of Books The Congressional library a* Washington, D. C'., is said to havs the world’s largest collection of rare and early books for childraa ICTP° 4- Ruth Wyeth Spears I. DRAW AROUND A DIME f BLUE GINGHAM STRETCH |OVER CARD BOARD BEFORE FRAMING RED CHAIN STITCH Embroidery by Mary Ann, age nine. \/f ARY ANN was named for her grandmother, who at the age of nine, made an elaborate sam pler of embroidery stitches. Ev eryone thought it would be nice if the modern Mary Ann could also do a bit of hand work to be framed and kept. We here report, thanks to a series of rainy afternoons, this was actually accomplished. Mary Ann's mother started the project with a rather large piece of blue gingham; a pair of em broidery hoops and some odds and ends of bright six strand mercer ized embroidery thread. Outlines for flower designs were made by drawing around coins and the flow ers were embroidered as shown hc’-e. Stems were done in outline stitch and leaves in groups of straight stitches. From the many attempts on that piece of gingham, two flower groups had almost as much life and charm as the modern Mary Ann, age nine. These were neatly framed and lend a gay note at each side of an old mirror. NOTE: Book 1, Gifts, Novelties and Embroidery, gives full in structions for ninety embroidery stitches with many sketches show ing ways m use them. You and yoUr children may have happy hours with thia fascinating hand work. Book 1, SEWING, for the Home Decorator, contains 48 com plete lessons for making slipcov ers, draperies, bedspreads and many other things for the house. Books are 25 cents each. If you order both books, crazypatch leaf let, reviving interest in this old- time hand craft, is included FREE. Address, Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St., Chicago, HI. TpHE full-sleeved, high-waisted -*■ dress (1721) is a perfectly charming fashion for afternoon parties, club meetings and lunch eons. It does nice things to your figure, because the bodice is gath ered into just enough fullness, and the high waistline makes you look slimmer around the middle and over the diaphragm. Make it of silk crepe, georgette, prints or chiffon. Here’s a simple little pattern (1670) that brings you one of the very smartest styles of the sea son—the button-front frock for ev ery day wear. It has wide shoul ders, a flaring skirt, and the fit ting is all by means of simple darts that draw in the waistline and fill out the bust. Flat crepe, prints, thid wool and line-i are nice materials for this dress. The Patterns. No. 1721 is designed for sizes 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 44 and 46. Size 36 takes 4% yards of 39 inch material. One yard edging for neckline. No. 1670 is designed for sizes 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 44 and 46. With long sleeves, size 36 requires 4% yards of 39 inch material. With short sleeves, 4 yards. New Spring-Summer Pattern Book. Send 15 cents for Barbara Bell’s Spring-Summer Pattern Book I Make smart new frocks for street, daytime and afternoon, with these simple, carefully planned designs 1 It’s chic, it’s easy, it’s economical, to sew your own. Each pattern includes a step-by-step sew chart to guide beginners. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1324, 211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, HI. Price of patterns, 15 cents (in coins) each. ® Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service. Keeping at It Perpetual pushing and assur ance put a difficulty out of counte nance, and make a seeming im possibility give way—Jeremy Col- lier. HOUSEHOLD QUESTIONS Paper Paddings.—Carefully ar ranged newspapers make good paddings under fiber rugs and mattings, because the dirt which sifts through may be easily re moved with the newspapers. • • • Varnish the Soles.—Paint the soles of boots and shoes with any quick-drying varnish. School boots will not need to go so often to the repairer’s after this treatment. • • • A Spotless Tub.—Baths can be made spotlessly clean if rubbed with a cloth dipped in paraffin be fore washing them in the usual way, while lemon juice and salt will take off “drip marks/ Chill Candles. — Thoroughly chilled in the refrigerator, wax candles will burn slower arid last longer. Cleaning the Range.—Coarse sandpaper will remove any rough ness from the neglected range. Cutting Cooking Time. — The cooking time of hominy grits, whole-grain cereals or rice can be shortened by soaking ovqg night in water to cover. BLACKMAN STOCK and POULTRY MEDICINES -Provn Goodf i’f IMkatW LWk-A-Mk 'll i'i Cnr Tnlc '• Ptwfcr i’i PmKit ftmtm >’* PMtoT TilUi ;'i UaPwnlg HXGITJST QUJUJTY—LOWEST COST SATISFACTION GUARANTEED OR YOUR MONET BACK BUT PROM YOUR DEALER BLACKMAN STOCK MEDICINE’CO CHATTANOOGA. 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