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THE SUN. NEWBERRY, S. C- FRIDAY, JUNE 16, 1939 Mountain man » H. C. Wlr.—WNU Sarvlo. /7 Ba*t*te>i tyictio*t Setual By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE CHAPTER XV—Continued —14— L/Ouise and Breck finished roast beef from the can, had chocolate bara for dessert, then cups of coffee. Beyond their shelter the rain fell with soft rustling through the pines, then drifted on. Clouds part ed and stars came out. Breck looked at bis watch. Two o’clock. Dawn would break in another hour. He must leave her then and go down to the Potholes. “When did Cook call your camp?” he asked, leading their talk to the nesters. “About the middle of the after noon. He and Slim were to start, but they would be a day on the trail.” “I hope Kern Peak can head them off, now that it’s over,” Breck con tinued. “Didn’t Cook think I had help from the Potholers?” “He didn’t say.” Louise stirred up the fire and hunched herself clos er to it. Breck pushed their plates from the bedroll and sat next to her. “Louise,” he asked, “can you tell me what I’m thinking about now?” Her lips began a smile, parted, closed. Then she answered with a slow shake of her head. “Well, I’m thinking of the Pot holes, and of what kept the nesters from coming into this fire. It will be daybreak in another hour and I must go down there. You’re going }>ack to Temple Meadow, I suppose? Will you try to get Cook on the line and let him know about this fire? Tell him I’ll call later.” • She avoided his request. “Why are you going to the Potholes?” “I’m afraid that’s asking my busi ness, isn’t it?” “Yes. I meant it that way. But I’m sorry; my mistake. I somehow thought we had reached a point where we could talk openly.” Breck dropped his hand upon both of hers, resting in her lap. “I was short, Louise. Forgive it. I’m go ing to the Potholes to prove a sus picion.” StitVwith her eyes upon the coals, she asked, “You think the nesters started this fire?” “I’m not certain. I do know some one drove them from helping on it.” “The Tillsons?” Breck nodded. Louise turned to him. “I can tell you about this fire, exactly. Lightning started it.” “Of course. Lightning always starts them I” “It’s true this time." “You seem to know. How?” Louise hesitated. She released her hands. “We’re talking openly? No mistakes. No misunderstanding, is that right?” “Yes." “Well, Art Tillson came to our camp, day before yesterday. That was before the fire started. He stayed all night—the night it start ed, and I talked with him. Now do you see?” “Too much!” Breck bit off the words, striving to conceal a flare of temper. He was jealous, foolish, yet helpless to stem the burst of feeling the name had aroused. “What if they didn’t start the fire?” he demanded. “The Tillsons are holding a threat over the nest ers. It’s time for a cleaning and the trail starts down there!” Louise die not speak. He sensed a swift tension of her body, though the only visible sign was of her fingers clasped tight about one knee. Suddenly she lifted her face to him. “Gordon Breck, I know the rules. A girl should never plead with a man. I’m not pleading, I merely ask. Promise me you will not go there now.” , She was so close at his side. He felt her quick breath and knew she apoke in desperation. And yet— “You ask me to ignore a ranger’s duty?” A note of defiance came into her voice as she replied. “What is a ranger’s duty if it isn’t to use his head! You have nothing on the nest ers—you can get nothing. That isn’t the place to begin. You’ll think I’m begging for them. I guess I am. I know some of the families, the women, and I don’t want to see them driven out. Give me a chance with them, won’t you?” “A chance for what?” “To talk with Weller sometime.” “I’ve talked with him already. It’s useless. I’m through with words!” “Oh, you men are stupid!” she flared. “Stupid! All you think of is strapping on a gun and going out to shoot. Is there never another way to settle?” “Not this,” Breck asserted. "At least not for me. I have more than a ranger’s duty here.” “How have you?” "Did you know the man who had this job before me?” “Jimmy Cotter? Yes, I knew him well. He was killed and you’ve ‘tSine to retaliate.” 1 Breck frowned, asking, “Who said •o?” “No one said it. But you’re wear ing his Luger. I knew that meant some connection.” Surprised, Breck said nothing “You see,” Louise continued, "I understand many things in these mountains—too many. I understand the nesters’ position, and Art Till- son’s, and yours.” In sudden impulse, her hand clasped his, warm, throbbing. “Gordon! Don’t you see? Cotter lost his life and gained nothing; threw it away on a chance. It’s terrible, all of it. Something will happen, I know. But you, you must not be the one to pay heedlessly. Won’t you consider it like that for your own sake?” Swept by the girl’s fervor Breck drew her madly into the circle of his arms. “And for yours?” he asked, holding her close. “Louise!” She yielded only for an instant as he kissed her. Then she held her face away while her eyes searched deep into his. “I cannot answer saw the fineness of her attempt and could yield to it until his plan opened. Upon entering the room Cook drew a packet of letters from his saddle bag. Breck carried them to his bunk and stretched himself full length. Muscles were beginning to stiffen. Breck unwrapped his letters, see ing at once the postmarks were from one to three weeks old. His correspondence was not large, as his plan of coming to the mountains was known only to a few persons. Here was business mostly; though one envelope among the lot had never seen an office desk. It had cream paper inside, and even through the accumulated smell of leather and mules, gave off a cer tain fragrance. Breck had reason to recall that “Mud’s up,” said Slim, pouring a cup of coffee. Breck left his bunk and joined the two men around a big black pot on the table. “So the nesters tRrew you down, did they?” Sierra began at once. “And Art Tillson was riding their country before the fire. Ain’t hard to read that sign. A pack of bug- juice was about due to go out of these hills. Tillson wanted to keep us too busy to notice it.” “This was a lightning fire,” Breck argued. “No one set it to help the Tillsons.” Sierra shrugged. “Hand of God on their side then!” “I think Slim has the straight of it,” Cook put in. “This particular fire may have just happened, but the Tillson crowd are due to make a shipment and might have used it. With the dawn they rode north together. you, not now. But I want your trust. Promise me that?” He nodded, bending his head until it touched the softness of her hair. With the dawn they rode north together, and parted on the ridge where Breck’s trail struck west to ward Rock House. CHAPTER XVI There were others already at his cabin, when, about mid-morning, he came into the meadow bowL He saw smoke rising from the chimney, and then with glasses, made out Sierra Slim in the doorway. Pres ently Cook appeared. They too stood with glasses at their eyes. Breck lifted one arm to them and rode on at a lope. “Howdy, pardner,” Slim greeted him. Cook’s first question was, “Like fire fighting, son?” Breck swung off and shook hands, glad to see them. Sierra’s face was as long and melancholy as ever. After the first welcome he said noth ing. Cook was genial and helped throw off the pack, though he did not mention more of the job until they had tinned out the animals. Then, walking from the corrals, he said, “Hot one for a time, wasn’t it?” "Kept me busy," Breck agreed. “We were on our way, but called' Kern Peak and found you had it under control. There’s some mail for you in my bag. That’s why we swung around here. Pack train came up from Lone Tree yesterday and goes down tomorrow, if you have anything to send out.” Breck nodded. He hadn’t written a letter in six weeks. "Nesters help you?” “No.” They had reached the cabin door. Cook halted, one hand on the knob. “What the devil! Did they refuse?” “Their excuse was that they had no tools.” “I know it,” said Cook scowling. “And that’s a damn shame! There’s nothing at the Potholes. We’re short. But they never held out on that account. How do you figure?” “Tillsons, of course. Art was in the Pothole country two days ago, giving tnem orders.” “Then you found out that it was a man-made fire?” Cook asked grave ly. “If it was, we’ll have to ride.” “It wasn’t,” Breck asserted. "I’m sure it was from lightning. Art’s business was more to keep them from giving us help.” He kept back the source of his information. That would involve too much explaining. Riding alone, after leaving Louise, he had thought of what she had told him. He began to see the heart of her with its deep compassion for all mountain peo ple; taking their burdens upon her self, trying to solve troubles here without more bloodshed. To him that way was impossible. But he fragrance, yet now, here in the odor of pines he was not sure that he liked it. His name was written with a swift impulsive dash, while the flap bore only, Irene Sutherland. He tore it open at once, and as he read, Irene came to him vividly. Tall and slender and undeniably beautiful. Black hair drawn to make three cornered her high fore head and accentuate her languorous dark eyes. It was a strange beauty, perplexing, all out of accepted standards. The note began with gossip, ig noring the fact that they had agreed not to write. She filled a page and said nothing. But then, on the sec ond, came to her real purpose. The senator was home now, grumping for a vacation. No place to go; nothing new. Driving the family frantic—like a big grizzly. “Do you have grizzlies? How splendid you must look in uniform! Like the rangers at Arrowhead." Breck looked down at his black ened work clothes and grinned. And then the' truth. The High Sierras! How marvelous for the Sen ator’s vacation. And with a ranger friend to show them about. “Gor don, you can’t refuse! Be a dear!” He stuffed the letter into his shirt pocket. Irene had turned to him again for amusement. She would do that where any other girl would have suffered the limits of ennui first. Somehow it seemed natural in her. They’ve been in here long enough to have made up quite a batch.” “Maybe so,” Breck agreed. “And when they do start out—” “We close in. There’s a new judge down on the valley. He’ll back us with convictions if we send any man before him. I’ve only waited for Jud to make his first play and that certainly won’t be long now.” Breck stirred his coffee and stared into the cup while old thoughts swept him at Cook’s words. “We closd in.” “What about the nesters?” he asked presently. “Do we include them in the clean-up?” He was thinking of Louise and her anxi ety for the families there. “The Potholes are a different proposition,” Cook said. “I don’t look for any trouble from them if we take care of the Tillsons. Like this tool business. Art may have scared them off, but if you’d had tools you could have forced them to work. Lack of equipment was our fault, not theirs.” Breck shot a glance at the gray haired man across from him. Bitter ness had come into the ranger’s voice when he talked of tools. “Dad,” Breck asked, “just why aren’t there any in the Pothol* box?" “Now you done stirred some thing!” Sierra cut in. “You been to college; maybe you can figure it out. Go ahead. Dad, and tell him about the seventy-eight bucks.” (TO BE CONTINUED) Tibet Holds Hunting Is a Crime; Law Is Discreetly Evaded in One Province Descendants of former criminals, the present Zayulis (of Zayul prov ince, Tibet) seem to have inherited a cheerful disregard for the law. Hunting is one of the greatest crimes in Tibet; for Buddhist doctrine for bids the taking of life in any form. Inevitably a certain compromise has been made, and in most monas teries you will find that meat is eat en, but only the meat of domestic animals, which, it is thought, are clearly expiating some past sin in a former human existence by their present enslavement, writes John Hanbury-Tracy in Asia Magazine. Wild animals are considered to belong to a higher form of life, ahd killing them is severely penalized in most parts of Tibet; I have seen a man given 300 lashes with rawhide whips for killing a hare. The re sult is that wild creatures are ex traordinarily tame: it is delightful in some parts of southeastern Tibet to see hares, marmots, partridges, white pheasants, wild ducks and geese completely unmoved when one approaches to within a dozen feet of them. But in Zayul the law is discreetly evaded, and the people are excellent hunters over difficult ground. In the forests are taken goral, serow musk-deer, bear and wild pig. Traps dogs and guns are all used. The guns are mostly long-barreled prong- guns of great age. The prong, which is made of the two horns of a deer, is hinged to the barrel of the gun close to the muzzle; normally it projects beyond the muzzle and looks like a pitchfork, but when the moment for action arrives it is turned down and stuck in the ground forming a rest for the gun. A slow match is applied, and, after soma 15 minutes of waiting, the gun may or may not go off. Its use is clearly limited. Plants Have Nerves Plants have nerves. One in this class might be called a nervous wreck, judging from its actions when anyone so much as touches one oi its leaves. The sensitive plant, or mimosa pudica, will immediately curl up its leaves at the slightest touch. After a leaf has curled up in apparent anguish it remains in a fallen position for about 15 min utes, then gradually uncurls and be comes its normal self again. Thii plant, originally from Brazil, grew wild in the Gulf state* HCWTq SEW 4- Ruth Wyeth Spears qJI? DRAW THREADS-WMIP EDGES OF OPENING^ HP ^ L^-needle from | \ RIGHT TO LEFT V UNDER 2*£?GROUP £OF THREADS- IXTURN NEEDLE /BEFORE DRAWING / THROUGH CORNER Drawn work for turquoise scarves. TPHIS idea is the result of an ex- periment. A friend had a set of sadly out-of-date white linen drawn work scarves for buffet, serving and dining table. Her dining room was being done over with touche^ of turquoise blue in the draperies and wall paper, so she had the scarves dyed to match. They were so effective that the simplest part of the drawn work design was copied in coarse linen in various colors for mats and scarves throughout the house. While the turquoise scarves were especially attractive, those in golden yellow and a bedroom set in soft rose were also full of charm. The sketch shows how the drawn work is done. If you are looking for something effective that is quick to make, here it is. Just pull out the threads of the linen to make an open space about an inch wide. The scarf may be hemmed at the same time the out side edge of the opening is being whipped. Just follow these sketches. No other directions are needed. Use either linen or mer cerized thread in a matching color. NOTE: Book 1—SEWING, for the Home Decorator, and No. 2, Gifts, Novelties, and Embroid eries, are now 15 cents each, or both books for 25 cents. Readers who have not secured their copies of these two books should send in their orders at once, as no more copies will be available when the present stock is sold. Your choice of the QUILT LEAFLET illustrat ing 36 authentic patchwork stitches; or the RAG RUG LEAF LET, will be included with orders for both bouks for the present, but the offer may be withdrawn at any time. Leaflets are 6 cents each when ordered without the books. Everyone should have copies of these two books containing 96 HOW TO SEW articles by Mrs. Spears, that have not appeared in the paper. Send your order at once to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Des- plaines St., Chicago, 111. All-Around Man Was Worth the Money! The customer was being shaved in a country town to which he was a visitor, when the barber cut him. The man was all apologies, and placed a piece of tissue paper over the gash. When the shave was finished the customer—to the great surprise of the barber—handed over a sub stantial tip. “That’s all right,” said the vic tim, with a smile of forgiveness; “I don’t often get shaved by a man who deals in three trades.” “Three trades?” queried the puzzled barber. “Yes,” came the sarcastic re ply—“barber, butcher, and paper- hanger.” ASK ME ANOTHER A Quiz With Answers Offering Information on Various Subjects The Questions 1. What is a Texas leaguer in baseball? 2. Who crossed the Rubicon? 3. What is the difference be tween a savage and a barbarian? 4. What would result if all the colors were blended together? 5. Among the 12 signs of the zodiac are four that represent ani mals. Which are they? 6. Is there any difference be tween semi-conscious and semi unconscious? 7. Why was it said that if Cleo patra’s nose had been shorter the whole face of the world would have been changed? 8. How did the dandelion get its name? 9. What is the significance of the name “Prospice,” the title of one of Browning’s poems? . The Answers • 1. A short fly that drops between infield and outfield, out of reach of both. 2. Caesar and his army. 3. Savage means untamed; bar barian means the state between savage and civilized. 4. All the colors of the spectrum blended together give white. 5. Leo (lion), Taurus (bull), Ar ies (ram), Apricomus (goat). 6. The first usually denotes go ing from the unconscious to the conscious state. The reverse is the case in the other. 7. To convey the idea that if Cleopatra had been less attractive she would not have enslaved Ju lius Caesar and Mark Antony. 8. From the French “dent de lion,” meaning a lion’s tooth, re ferring to the leaves of the plant. 9. It is interpreted as meaning “Look Forward.” l/ncle J^liilQ Our National Spirit The national anthem makes us get up and hustle in order to be able to sing it. Diligent work and religion go well together. 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