The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, April 07, 1939, Image 6
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
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MEDICINES
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