Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE SUN, NEWBERRY, S. C- FRIDAY, JULY 14, 1939 CHAPTER XTX—Continued —1»- fireck sprang up, shot by the sug gestion of Irene’s words. “What did Art say? Anything about a fire?” “It might have been that,” she ad mitted. “Tonight?” “He said later he had some im portant business.” Irene sighed. “Please don’t make me use my brain. It’s tired.” Breck looked down into her face. It was wholly innocent of any defi nite knowledge. No doubt Art had bragged in vague terms; nothing she might repeat. “Irene,” he asked, "did Tillson give any names? Or places, or peo ple?” She turned imploring eyes to him. “Must I think?” “Enough to remember what you were talking about. Was any moun tain or meadow brought up?” Irene counted on her fingers. “I slept well last night and remarked ton it. He said something about Weeping too. Then we talked some more. Then he bragged about know ing so much. He said if I would look at the sky tonight over—is there a sleeping mountain?” “Sleeping Beauty,” Breck urged. Irene shook her head with a little scowl. “I really don’t know. Where •re you going?” Breck had untied Kit. Now he said quickly, “Promise me you’ll say nothing about this.” “Have I told you something?” “Perhaps. Promise me.” “X’ll not talk,” Irene promised. He strode on to the telephone, dropped Kit’s reins, and rang head quarters. Cook answered. “Dad,” Breck asked, “is Slim there? No, don’t call him. Tell him to take the trail and meet me half way. I’ve got some letters that must go out.” “It’s sort of late in the afternoon,” Cook began. » “They’re important!" Breck cut in. He could not trust the wire. Too much chance of his word being in tercepted from one of the patrol in struments. A pause told that his meaning had gotten across. “All right,” Cook finished briefly and hung up. Breck strapped on his gun and put an ax in the saddle scabbard. The whole thing might be a -false clue; yet he read Art Tillson. The boy would boast to make himself big before Irene. After all, he had told nothing she could understand. Sleeping Beauty mountain came into sight as he topped a rise in the trail some distance beyond Rock House. It rose on the eastern rim af the range, a high, barren crest sculptured in the form of a woman reclining. The peak was above tim berline, but the wooded lower slope offered dangerous fire country. Couth of the mountain were the Pot- holes, and putting these conditions together, Breck formed tentative plans. They could be completed when he met Sierra Slim. As he rode, his body grew tense, for that was the mood of the forest, and he strained to catch all sounds beyond the limit of his vision. Kit, too, listened, and it was he who ■topped abruptly without command when they were still an hour from the summit. Breck rose in his stirrups, motion less until there came a faint thud ahead. Then he wheeled suddenly from the trail. Halting off in a lane of trunks, he sat waiting with his eyes upon a patch of light where that other rider must pass. I CHAPTER XX In a short time the sharp ring of shoes on rock that had first warned him, came again, then broke into the rapid thud of a horse running up the dim path. Kit raised his head. Instantly Breck gripped his nostrils, silencing him. The sound approached in a reck less rush, with no attempt by the rider to move quietly. In a flash the other animal appeared in the lane where Breck watched, and glimpsing it he relaxed in his sad dle. It was Sierra’s patch horse; at the same time the lank figure was unmistakable. Whirling Kit, Breck called, “Slim!” >- Sierra halted. “You, pardner? Come ahead.” Breck moved back to the trail "and stopped at the other man’s side. •>What’s up?” he asked. “Running from somerne?” “Not any,” Sierra grinned- “I was makin’ that runkus so’s you eouki bear me. Thought you’d be about this far." Without going into details as to the source of his information, Breck told what he had learned. “The best way I can figure it,” he fin ished, “is for me to go up Sleeping Beauty and lay for the fire-bug, while you watch the trail where the TOlsons will come out of Sulphur Creek. I have a hunch where that is." Sierra wagged bis head thought- fuUy. “That might be the way to do it. Looks like the Tillson outfit is figurin’ to use Quakin’ Asp traO down the valley. But you and me had better stick together. Jud won’t move till the fire’s big and all us rangers is onto it. Looks like our play is to pick up the gentleman on Sleepin’ Beauty first and see the color of his eyes. We might make him tell somethin’. How about it?” “I guess you’re right,” agreed Breck. “That’s a big country over there,” Sierra added. “One man alone could hardly watch it. Now let’s do a little figurin’. A good place for fire is on the southwest side of the moun tain. The nesters are just south of that. Wouldn’t you say whoever’s doin’ the job would strike for the Potholes afterwards?” “I thought so," said Breck. “They wouldn’t want to meet me coming from Rock House, nor you and Cock from headquarters. That leaves their way open to the south.” Abruptly Slim wheeled his horse. “Then let’s move. It’s gettin’ dark and too shut up in here.” They went on, riding at a walk into the canyon mouth. “This will do,” Sierra said at last. “I’ll climb up to the left bank, you take the right. Don’t go far on top—just set there and watch.” Breck turned Kit up the slope, moved for a time in the blackness of trees, but emerged again into starlight when he reached the back bone. There he halted in the shad ow of a pine snag with his face to ward Sleeping Beauty. From this position the crest lost its human form, and his gaze swept over a high, dark mass of woods, broken only by the line of rock upon which he waited. He glanced at his watch. Nine- thirty. Full night had come. It seemed if a fire were to be started, now was the time. As minutes passed and no flare shot through the black slope, he began to doubt his judgment. Kit grew restless and struck the rock with his frrefeet. “Easy boy," Breck soothed him, “you’re not the only one.” Almost as he spoke, a yellow point of light came before his eyes. For an instant it failed to arouse him. It seemed nothing. Then abruptly he knew it was the fire, far up, hid den in the pines. Silence of the for est lay unbroken. He sat listening. There was no sound of flame. It was perhaps five minutes that he waited. The clatter burst suddenly; some one was riding down the backbone, leaping a sure-footed horse over the rubble of rock. Breck remained be hind his snag until the figure was within gun range, the moving Kit only a step, shouted, “Halt there! Hands up!” Speed of approach was not slack ened. A spurt of flame darted to ward him. He answered with three shots from the Luger, aimed high; a fourth he put close to the man’a side. A sharp oath burst out. “Then halt!” Breck ordered. Now the rider was plainly visible up the ridge. He had obeyed, bring ing his horse to a stand. Breck ad vanced, saying again, “Hands up, there.” Response was slow. Breck was within a few feet, when at last two arms started up. Suddenly in the movement one was flung out. A heavy gun grazed Breck’s cheek. He dodged and the next instant swung a left-handed blow against the fellow’s jaw. The man toppled from his sad dle. His horse, freed, plunged on down the ridge. It was done in a minute. Breck leaped to the pound and with the Luger in his prisoner’s face, ordered him to his feet. Then with a length of tie rope, he bound his arms. Neither spoke. From across the canyon came sounds of a horse scrambling down ward. For a time the animal was lost in the bottom, but present burst through a brush patch. “All right. Slim," Breck called. “Over here." Sierra rode up. “By the kiss of Judas!” he exclaimed, bending down to look at the prisoner. “Do you know this fellow ” Breck asked. “Hell yes! Worked trail for us one year. Got himself fired for stealin’ dynamite and sellin’ it. After that be turned neater. Hard to tall what he is now." Sierra suited tn his sad dle. “Tillson pay you right well for this job, Cowan?” The man lookeo up sullenly from a black-bearded face, but said noth ing. Breck swung to hi* horse. “We’d better hit that fire. Slim, before it gets away from us.” “Right, pardner.’’ Sieira jerked a thumb toward the one afoot “Bring him along. If he don’t run fast enough, drag him.” They climbed the ridge, with Breck leading his captive on a rope. The fire was in brush, yet had not had time to eat far, and they cir cled it at once, Breck chopping a line with his ax, Sierra shoveling earth onto the flames. In half an hour it could be left to burn itself out. Returning to where he had left Kit and the man, both tied to a tree, Breck mounted immediately, then gave his prisoner over to Sierra. “He’s all yours. Slim. Which way do you go from here? I’m dropping down to Temple where I can call Cook.” “Me, I’ll head straight north,” Si erra answered. “Just you sleep light from now on.” That was his casual farewell. It was past one o’clock in the morning when Breck reached Tem ple’s cow camp. He rode through a meadow with cattle lying in dark blobs on silvery, dew-laden grass, then came to the corrals, and con tinued beyond them, purposely avoiding the two cabins as he ap proached the forest service tele phone. So far he had aroused no sign of life. He hoped to put in his call without waking Temple and Louise. But as he cranked four rings and stood waiting, one cabin door opened and the old man peered out. Temple had not stopped to dress, but was prepared with a rifle across the bend in his arm. Breck turned away as headquarters answered. “Hello, Cook," he said, and let the sound of his voice give identity. Nor in the brief report did he tell his location. “All OK,” he offered tersely. “Slim is bringing back my maU." The line became sUent. Then: “Good enough. I’ll call you later.” Breck closed the iron box. Tom Temple had drawn on his boots and breeches and stood a short distance from his cabin. Breck motioned with one arm, saying as the man approached, “Sorry to get you up. Those bells do sound loud at night.” “No matter,” Temple asserted, “I heard you before you rang. Thought maybe someone was looking over my horses.” He pointed his rifle to ward the corral. “Got some good stuff in there tonight; JG sent ’em over for the rodeo.” Temple shivered. “Gettin’ cold out here. WU1 you put up, Ranger?” "Thanks, but I’ve got to go on.” Breck swung into his saddle, and then, riding away from camp, cast a swift glance backward. Curtains at one window of the other cabin moved slightly. It might have been the wind. In the first light of dawn he came again into the bowl of Rock House, for he had pushed Kit rapidly, cal culating that Sierra would reach headquarters about the same time he returned to his own station. Cook would then call him at once. His deduction was right. The tele phone rang shortly after he had un saddled. “I’m coming over,” was the whole of Cook’s message. That meant four hours in which Breck could sleep; and he suddenly felt the need of it. A few minutes later, when he lay fully dressed upon his bunk, Sierra Slim’s part ing words came back, and* he dropped into the shadows with the Luger on a wall peg near his head. It seemed his hand was still on the gun, placing it, when the thud of a horse aroused him. Instantly he swung his legs from the bunk. An animal had come up to the tie rack beyond the cabin window. Then he saw Dad Cook. The door opened and the ranger came in, throwing down his saddle bags and giving his hat a fling to ward the table. “Howdy, son. Get ting a little shut-eye? Guess you need it. Pretty good job of work you did last night.” Breck stood up, thoroughly awake now, and curious. “What’s our next move?” he asked. "Ain’t ours; it’s theirs.” Cook dropped onto a bench. Breck returned to the edge of his bunk. “What do you mean?” “A man in Jud Tillson’s busi ness,” Cook explained, "can’t have his plans go wrong more than once. You jumped onto his fire and took a prisoner. Jud’s going to find out how come you knew all that before he does another thing. He’s going to settle with someone and that means getting out in the open.” “Won’t he settle things in his own camp first?” Breck asked. The ranger’s gray brows knitted sharply. “You don’t say a Tillson talked?” Breck nodded. “Art and a girl.” “Well by God!” Cook paused; sur veyed his boot toes, then looked up with a slow smile. “Don’t that beat helL I never thought that was how you come to find out.” “Don’t mistake Art," Breck ad vised him. “He probably doesn’t know he told, and the girl is ig norant of it. I put things together and took a chance.” “And it worked,” the ranger fin ished, "that’s all we care about. What I said first still goes. Jud is bound to come out of his hole now. He may light on you. That’s why I’m here — we’ll go double for awhile.” "Where’s Slim?” Breck asked. “Gone to Lone Tree with your prisoner. He’ll bring a couple of good men back and meet us aPTem- ple’s rodeo, tomorrow. I’m guess ing some more, but I don’t think I’m far off. That gathering over there will be a good place to start trouble. In this country lots of par ties end up in shooting. Women make dam’ fine excuses for gun play. Tillson may add to his gang for this special occasion. On our side there’ll be me, and Sierra, and the two he’s bringing along; and you’ll be the center of interest. How do you feel about that?” Breck shrugged. Cook smoked in silence. Present ly he stood up. “Is your Senator friend around? I’d like to spend the afternoon getting acquainted.” A quizzical smile spread over his leathered face. “And I’d sure ad mire to meet the girl that could make a Tillson talk!” CHAPTER XXI In matters of rodeo entertain ment, Tom Temple was no short horn. He knew the fundamentals, plenty of action and plenty to eat— and how to supply them. This was his day. About noon Breck came over the ridge trail and halted his party where they could look down on the cattleman’s meadow. The scene had changed miraculously. The camp that had always been a quiet, se cluded spot, now swarmed with life; horses filled the corrals and were tied among the trees; men and girls moved in front of the cabins; smoke rose from barbecue pits in a clear ing close to the stream; and the forest echoed with shouts, talk and laughter. (TO BE CONTINUED) Words ‘Debonair,* ‘Quality,* Among Some That Have Passed Along With Macassar Oil The word, “debonair,” was once very debonair. Sixty years ago, or so, it was made to do heavy duty, properly and otherwise. But styles change and words change with them. And today, we hesitate to say "debonair” even when that is the only word, observes a writer in the Washington Post. In the late 1860s and early 1870s a few old gentlemen, who had been debonair in their younger days, still wore blue swallow-tail coats with large silver buttons and adorned their necks with stocks. That style had been debonair once; in the six ties it was in use only by age, digni ty and quality. And here’s another excellent word that has gone into the discard, “quality.” "The quality” meant those of entrenched social position. Socialite is not quite the same thing;'it is something lighter, fluf fier, more evanescent; and is not al ways quite debonair. About the time gentlemen wore swallow-tails in daylight—and some times sported flowered waistcoats— they also used Macassar oil on their hair and parted it in the back as well as in the front, so that when they wore “white chokers,” it was difficult for a near-sighted person to tell whether they were coming or going. The young men of that period were quite debonair; they affected more modem raiment and per fumed themselves with eau de co logne, bay rum and Florida water. As far as nature permitted they cul tivated curly hair, flowing locks of the Byronic type, and burnsides. But. whether they were young or old, Macassar oil was frequently present; and always suspected. Now, Macassar oil, even a touch, of it, would soil upholstery; and, while gentlemen were not supposed to loll or lounge in the presence at ladies, they did laugh and some times threw their heads back touch ing the back of the chair or sofa. And, thereupon, arose the neces sity for the anti-Macassar; which was a device for protecting the fine damask, satin, or silk-rep with which the furniture was up holstered. This anti-Macassar, or to speak plainly, tidy, was a bit df crocheted work, , ilways white pinned to the chair or sofa at a point where the head would most likely touch. But it has gone. The Early Americans From data accumulated, archeol ogists are of the opinion that, long ages ago, the Americas were at least partly populated by a race of Caucasian stock that came from Polynesia and other parts of south eastern Asia and found its way to the western coast of South America by way of the Caroline islands and Easter island. The sun circles and dolmens built by these white men in Peru closely resemble prehistoric examples in central Asia, Europe and England. The hair of the oldest mummies left by their descendants is yellow and red and very fine— much different from that of the Az tecs and other early inhabitants. It is also known that they used iron tools and were highly skilled ia masonry, using building methods and architectural design found ti Asia and Europe Science Finds Possible Cure For Catarrh TODAY’S HEALTH COLUMN Dr. Barton By DR. JAMES W. BARTON O NE of the meanest ailments with which mankind is af flicted is ozaena, or the dry form of catarrh. In addition to the catarrhal symptoms, there is a most offen sive odor which makes it almost impossible for these patients to mix with other people. In 1937 Drs. Hector Mortimer, R. Percy Wright and J. B. Collip in an investigation of this ailment report ed their findings in the Canadian Medi cal Association Jour nal. They were able to show that this ail ment was due to an inherited constitu tion just as in the case of sufferers with hay fever and some other ailments. That there is a re lation between the genital or sex organs and the nose has been known for years and by the use of hormones (estrogen) these research physicians were able to help a number of these ozaena pa tients by putting this substance up the nose. As catarrh of the nose and throat is believed to be the commonest cause of deafness, the above named research physicians and Dr. D. L. Thomson now report in the Canadi an Medical Association Journal the successful treatment of a number of cases of constitutional deafness by the application of these sex hor mone substances up the nose. Find Constitutional Cause. “The series investigated consists of 153 patients, of whom 94 are fe males and 59 males. The average age of the females is 37 years, the youngest 11 years of age and the oldest 74; in the males, average age is 38, youngest 9 and the oldest 76.” It was found that not only may the two conditions—ozqena and deafness —be present in the same individual, but in one generation of the family ozaena may be found in certain members, whilst others have defec tive hearing. The two points we get from this research work is (a) that there seems to be a constitutional condi tion present that makes these indi viduals likely to have ozaena or deafness or both, and (b) this very fact makes it possible for the same method of treatment—estrogen—ap plied to the lining of the nose to greatly help both conditions. v Notwithstanding these findings, these research workers state that they do not suggest that constitu tional deafness is due to any lack of gland substance in the individual. • • • Waste Poisons Cause Biliousness A physician called to visit a pa tient who had a “bilious” attack left this parting warning. “Remem ber, now, no food for 48 hours.” The patient promptly replied, “Don’t worry about food, I don’t want to ever see food any more.” This distaste for food is just one more of nature’s little ways of guarding us when we are sick. While food—liquid, soft, or solid—is now given regularly in many ailments, in the treatment of biliousness it is still considered wise to withhold food for 36 to 48 hours. “The symptoms of a so-called bil ious attack may come on more or less acutely. There is a feeling of mental depression, giddiness, head ache, nausea or vomiting, loss of appetite or actual repulsion of food, spots floating before the eyes or other disturbance of vision, and a feeling of tiredness and no desire for mental or physical work.” While some of these bilious at tacks are due to nervousness or emotional upsetments, most of them are due to poisons in the blood from wastes that should have been fil tered out by the liver or thrown out by the boweL Chronic infection of the teeth, tonsils, gall bladder, si nus, or other organs may gradually pile up enough poisonous material or wastes to bring on an attack. After this “explosive” attack which may rid the system of some of the waste or poison products, the patient may feel considerably better. Food Not Digested. “Imperfectly digested food which has undergone putrefaction in the bowel or poisonous material allowed to remain too long in the bowel (constipation) may be the cause.” Thus the condition may readily follow a badly digested meaL The first thought in the treatment of an attack is to avoid solid food for 24 to 48 hours, using sweetened water or fruit juices to maintain fluids in the system. The old-fashioned remedy of a grain of calomel followed by a dose of salts is still good treatment. The constant thought should be to try to avoid these attacks by eat ing less rich food, or eating four small meals instead of three large meals, and not eating at all or very lightly when under nervous strain or an emotional upset. (Released by Western Newspaper Union.) ASK ME A Quiz With Answers - v|7^vtittT7T» r OHeria 9 Information Ain Ly 1 -LlUll • on Various Subjects — ♦— The Question^ 1. Why is the speaker, of the house of representatives so called? 2. What country is the Land of Cakes? 3. How big a trunk did the Char ter oak have? 4. What is the oldest parliament in the world? 5. Is there a word descriptive of the feeling of annoyance one has in a noisy place? 6. About how much of the world’s habitable land surface does the British empire cover? The Answers 1. The name was borrowed from British parliament. 2. Scotland is so called from its oatmeal cakes. 3. Nearly seven feet in diam eter. It was in Hartford, Conn., and .blew down in 1856. Its age was computed to be nearly 1,000 years. 4. The Althing of Iceland is the oldest parliamentary assembly, having celebrated its 1,000th an niversary in 1930. 5. The word is dysacousia. 6. About one-fourth. Chintz-Covered Lamp Shades You Can Make By RUTH WYETH SPEARS ‘‘FJEAR MRS. SPEARS: I have a pair of lamps for my dressing table, and I would like to use some of my curtain material to cover plain shades. •> Can you tell me how this is done? C. H.” Here is a method that is shown for a living room lamp in Book 1. Use top and bottom rings from old lamp shade. A cardboard founda tion is cut to fit these, and the chintz or other fabric is pasted to the edge of this. The AB line in the pattern dia gram is as long as the diameter of the bottom ring. The dotted verticcl line is approximately as long as the depth of the shade. The CD line is as long as the diameter of the top ring. Draw the diagonal lines to touch the ends of the AB and CD lines. Place a tack where they meet at E. Place a pencil through a loop in a string, as shown, and draw the bottom line of the shade mak ing it as long as the measurement around the bottom ring plus a half inch. Shorten the string and draw the top to fit the top ring allowing for a half inch lap. NOTE: Book 1—SEWING, for the Home Decorator, and No. 2, Gifts, Novelties and Embroider ies, 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 showing 36 authentic patchwork stitches; or the RAGRUG LEAFLET, will be included with orders for both books for the present, but the offer may be wHhdrawn at any time. Leaflets are 6 cents each when or dered without the books. Everyone should have copies of these two books containing 96 How to Sew articles by Mrs. Spears. Send your order at once to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St., Chi cago, 111. • If your dealer cannot supply you* send 20c with your dealer’s name for a Trial Package of 48 genuine PE-KO Jar Rings; sent prepaid* To Spend Wisely A fool may make money, but it takes a wje»~mnn to spend it. ^ A Gh EAT BARGAIN VESPER TEA PURE ORANGE PEKOE 50 Cups for 10 Cents Ask Your Grocer L Easy to Understand A good example is the best sep- mon.—Old Proverb. AGENTS WARTED GEORGIA - ALABAMA - SOUTH CAROLINA FOR FIRE-TORNADO-AUTOMOBILE INLAND MARINE INSURANCE STRONG-OLD LINE-STOCK COMPANIES Write - JEROME & COWAN - Managers 541 TRUST*Cc£ B OF GEORGLA BUILDING ATLANTA, GA. 8