Desert Dust By €dwin L Sabin Author of “How Are You Feeling?'* etc. The brakeman returned with a broom, to sweep up the chips of broken bottle. He grinned at us. “There’s no wind in him now,’’ he communicated. “Peaceful as a baby. We took his gun off him. I’ll pass the word ahead to keep him safe, on from Cheyenne.” 11 “Please do, Jerry,” she bade. I’d prefer to have no more trou ble with him, for he might not come out so easily next time. He knows that.” “Surely ought to, by golly,” the brakeman agreed roundly. “^And he ought to know you go heeled. But that there tangle foot went to his head. Looks now as if he’d been kicked in the face by a mule. Haw haw! No offense, friend. You got me plumb buffaloed with that five spot o’ yourn.” And finishing his job he retired with dust-pan and broom. “You’re going to do well in Benton,” ahe said suddenly, to me, with a nod. “I regret this ■cene—I couldn’t help it, though, of course. When Jim’s sober he has sense, and never tries to be familiar.” She was amazingly cool under the epithets that had applied. I admired her for that as she gazed at mo pleadingly. “A drunken man is not re sponsible for words or actions, although he should be made so,” I consoled her. “Possibly 1 should not have struck him. In the Far West, you may be more accustomed to these episodes than we are in the East.” “I don’t know. There is a limit. You did right. I thank you heartily. Still”—and she mused—-“you can’t always de pend on your fists alone. You carry no weapon, neither knife or gun?” “I never have needed either,” said I. “My teaching has been that a man should be able to re ly upon his fists.” “Then you’d better get ‘heel ed, as we say, when you reach Benton. Fists are a short-range weapon. The men generally wear a gun somewhere. It is the custom.” “And the women, too, if I may judge,” I smiled. “Home of us. Yes,” she re peated, “you’re likely to do well, out here, if you’ll permit me to advise you a little.” “Under your tutelage I am sure I shall do well,” I except ted. “I may call upon you in Benton? If you will favor me with your address—?” “My address?” She searched my face in manner startled. “You’ll have no difficulty finding me; not in Benton Biit I’ll make an appointment with you in event”—and she smiled archly—■“ you are not afr«*.id of strange women.” “I have been taught to respect women, madam,” said I. “And my respect is being strengthen ed.” Oh! I seemed to have pleas ed her. “You have been careful ly brought up, sir." “To foar (lod, respect women, and act the man as long as 1 breathe," I asserted. “My mother is a saint, my father a nobleman, and what I may have learned from them is to their credit." ' “That may go excellently in the East," she answered, “But we in the West favor the Per sian maxim—to ride, to shoot, and to tell tho truth. With those three qualities even a tender foot can establish himself.” t^YThether I can ride and shoot sufficient for the purpose, time will sliow," 1 retorted. “At least," and I endeavored to speak with proper emphasis, you, hear the truth when I say that I anticipate much pleasure as well as renewed health, in Benton.” “Were we by ourselves we would seal the future in another ‘smile’ together," she shyly promised. “Unless that might shock you." “I am ready to fall in with the customs of the country," I as sured. “I certainly am not averse to smiles, when fittingly proffered. ’ ’ So we exchanged fancies when the train rolled over a track re markable for its smoothness and leading ever onward across the vast, empty plains bare save for the low shrubs called sage brush, and rising here and there i*io long swells apd abrupt * sandstone pinnacles. We stopped near noon at the town of Cheyenne, in Wyoming Territory. Cheyenne, once boastig the title (I was told) “The Magic City of the Plains,” was located upon a dreary flat ness, although from it one might see, far southwest, the actual Rocky Mountains in Colorado Territory, looking, at this dis tance of one hundred miles, like low dark clouds. The up grade in the west promised that we should soon cross over their northern flanks, of the Black Hills. Last winter, Cheyenne, I was given to understand, had ten thousand inhabitants; but the majority had followed the rail road west, so that now there re mained only some fifteen hund red. After dinner we, too, went west. We overcame the Black Hills Mountains about two o’clock, having climbed to the top with considerable puffing of the en gine but otherwise almost im perceptibly to the passengers. When we were halted, upon the crown, at Sherman Station, to permit us to alight and see for ourselves, I scarcely might be lieve that we were more than eight thousand feet in air. There was nothing to indicate, except some little difficulty of breath; not so ‘much as I had feared when in Cheyenne, whose six thousand feet gave me a slightly giddy sensation. My Lady moved freely, being accustomed to the rarity; and she assured me that although Benton was seven thousand feet I would soon grow wonted to the atmosphere. The habitues of this country made light of the spot; the strangers on tour pick ed flowers and gathered rocks as mementoes of the “Crest of the Continent”—which was not a crest but rather a level plateau, wind-swept and chilly while sun ny. Then from this Sherman Summit of the Black Hills of Wyoming the train swept down by its own momentum from gra vity, for the farther side. T he fellow Jim had not emerg ed, as yet, much to my relief. The scenery was increasing in grandeur and interest, and the play of my charming companion would have transformed the most prosaic, of journeys into a trip through paradise. I hardy noted the town named Laramie City, at the western base of the Black Hills; and was indeed annoyed by the vendors hawking what they termed “mountain gems” through the T»ra'nT Ijaramip* according to My Lady, also once had been, as she styled it, "4 live town,” hut had deceased in favor of Benton. Prom Laramie we whirled northwest, through a broad valley enlivened by count less antelope Bcouring over the grasses; tlienee we issued into a wild^j’, rougher country, skirk mg more mountains very gloomv in aspect. However, of the panorama out side I took but casual glances; the phenomenon of blue and gold so close at hand and all en grossing, and my heart beat high with youth and romance. Our passage was astonishingly short, but the sun was near to setting beyond distant peaks when by the landmarks that she knew we were approaching Benton at last. We crossed a river_the Platte, again, even away in here; briefly paused at a military post, and entered upon a stretch of sun-baked, reddish-white dustv desert utterly devoid of vege tation. * There was a significant bnst»e m the car, among the travel worn oceupants. The air was choking with dust swirled through evey crevice by the stir of the wheels—already mobile as it was from the efforts of the teams that we passed, of six and eight horses tugging heavy wag ons. Plainly we were within striking distance of some focus ol human energies. “Benton! Benton in five min utes. End o’ track,” the brake man shouted. “My valise, please.” I brought it. The conductor, Mho like the other officials taw My Lady, pushed through to us and laid hand upon it. “I’ll see you out,” lie an nounced. “Come ahead.” Pardon. 1 hat shall be my privilege,” I interposed. lint she quickly denied “No, please. Tbs conductor is an old friend. 1 shall need no other help—I’m perfectly at home. You can look out for, yoqrself. ’ ’ ' "But I shall see you again—. and wiicre? I don’t know your address; fact is, I’m even igno rant of your name,” I pleaded desperately. “How stupid of me.” And she spoke fast and low, over her shoulder. “To-night, then, at the Big Tent. Remember.” I pressed after. “The Big Tent! Shall I in quire there? And for whom?” “You’ll not fail to see me Everybody knows the Big Tent, everybody goes there.' So au revoir. ’ ’ She was swallowed in the wake of the conductor, and I fain must gather my own be longings before following. The Big Tent, she said? I had not misunderstood; and I puzzled over the address, which imping ed as rather bizarre, whether in West or East. W stopped with a jerk, amidst a babel of cries. “Benton! All out!” Out we stumbled. Here I was, at rain bow’s end. CHAPTER IV I MEET FRIENDS What shall I say of a young man like myself, fresh from the green East of New York, and the Hudson River, landed expec tant as just aroused from a dream of rare beauty, at this Benton City, Wyoming Terri tory? The dust, as fine as pow der and as white, but shot through with the crimson of sun set, hung like a fog, amidst which swelled deafening clamor from figures rushing hither and thith er about the platform like half world shades. A score of voices dinned into my ears as two score of hands grabbed at my valise and shoved me and dragged me. "The Desert Hotel. Best in the West. This way, sir.” "Buffalo Hump Corral! The Buffalo Hump! Free drinks at the Buffalo Hump.” Vamos, all o’ you. Leave the gent to me. I’ve had him be fore. Mike’s Place for you, eh? Come allong.” "The Widow’s Cafe! That’s yore grub pile, sent. All you can eat for two bits.” A deep voice boomed, stunning me. ‘‘Th« Queen, the Queen! Bath for every room. Individual towels. The Queen, the QH een, she s clean, she’s clean.” It was a magnificent bass, full toned as an organ, issuing, like wise as out of a reed, from a fiwart dwarf scarcely higher than my waist. The word bath,” with the promise of ‘‘in dividual towels,” won me over. Something must be done, any wav, to get rid of these import unate runners. Thereupon I ac quiesced, ‘‘All right, my man' .■he Queen,” and surrendering iny bag to his hairy paw I trudg ed by his guidance. The solici tations instantly ceased as if in] agreement with some code. ! We left the station platform and went plowing up a street over shoetops with the impal-! pable dust and denoted by tents! and white-coated shacks sparse y bordering. The air was, breezeless and suffocatingly loaded with that dust not yet de posited. The noises as from a great city swelled strident: shouts, hammerings, laughter, rumble of vehicles, cracking of lashes, barking of dogs inumer able—betokening a thriving mart of industry. But although pedestrians streamed to and fro, the men in motley of complex ions and costumes, the women, some of them fashionably dress ed, with skirts eddying furious ly; and wagons rolled, horses cantered, and from right to left merchants and hawksters seemed to be calling their wares of city itself I could see only the veriest husk. The majority of the buildings were mere canvas—faced up a few feet, perhaps, with sheet iron or flimsy boards; intersept ed there were a few wooden structures, rough and unpaint cd; whereas several of the housings were large, none was more than two stories—and when now and again I thought1 that 1 had glimpsed a substan tial stone front a closer inspec tion told me that the stones were imitation, forming a veneer of the,sheet, iron or of stenciled pine, Indeed, not a few of the upper stories, viewed from an unfavorable angle, proved to be only thin parapets upstanding for a pretense of well-being. Be hind them, nothing at all! (Continued in Next Issue) -— i be sucking fishes of the deep sea have their buck fin miillfleU into » powerful sucker by which they re fasten themselves to the bottom of st. « or to b‘g sea animals a:ul solve th | problem of vansportation. BY FAITH. By faith we see the Incomplete com pleted. And by It we can see the unseen things; By faith we fly to known and un known regions. And to the distant stars with magic wings; By faith we explore what is called an atom. And comprehend the endless uni verse ; By faith we see the la-ws that move the planets, And laws that fix, and laws that will disperse. By faith' we see the past and the hereafter, And live by It throughout eternity; By faith we see the cause, the great Creator, And by it all His handiwork we see. By faith we see great men of all the ages, Who by faith have achieved and blessed mankind; By faith we look into the unknown future, And see what men of faith by faith shall find; For "Greater works than these," so said the Master, * "Shall he do, who believes and trusts in me.” By faith, therefore, we see the great er marvels Our children’s children’s children yet shall see. —H. H. Slegele, In The Kansas City Star. 1 , N _ 8ILENT TIHNG8 THAT SPEAK. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language; their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.—Ps. 19:2, 3. The King James Version of out English Bible translates this verse, "There is no speech nor language where their voice Is not heard.” But the word "where" is not in the Hebrew text. The Psalmist is praising the won derful works of God in the heavens that silently declare his glory and power. How many of these inaudible pro phets there are that speak through our eyes to our hearts! Not only the mountains and the stars, but also the trees and the flowers, tell of a supernal Wisdom and Beauty abiding in the universe and shaping it as an artist shapes his work; It is worth remembering that most of the great astronomers and bota nists have been great believer in God. I do not envy the man who can look up from the flaring lights and confused noise of the city streets, to the glittering, faithful silent stars, without feeling the Divine Majesty ruling far above human turmoil. I do not envy the man who can consider a flower of the field with out feeling the Divine Goodness. Register Boosts Boies. Those who have even a casual ac quaintance with Hon. W. D. Boies, of Sheldon, cannot but be impressed with his sincerity as he goes about his district—either on errands by special appointment in connection with his office, or as a casual visitor with the people of his constituency. The Register does not claim to have an intimate friendship with Mr. Boies, but on those occasions when it has been our privilege to be in his com pany the experience has always been to our gain. He seems to be such a sincere servant of the people, and has a faculty of annalyslng the times that stamps him as a man above the average, as all representatives to con gress should be. Until this district brings out bet ter opposition to Congressman Boies than has been the case so far, this newspaper would be delighted to see him returned to congress in 1924. By the North Sea to Siberia. From the Christian Science Monitor. An expeditino, described in the China Weekly Review as of great in terest and possible significance to the Far East, has set out from En gland for the purpose of demonstra ting the value of utilizing the North Sea route for communication with Siberia and abroard. This trading expedition is under the auspices of the well-known Arctic explorer, Vil kltski, and financed by the Russian Co-operative Society "Centrosoyouz." According to the Review, "it left the port of Hull, in England, on the 1st of August for the Sea of Kara, and thence to Kransnoyarsk on the River Yenesei. The expedition consists of three steamers flying the Soviet flag and one steamer flying the British flag. In addition, a barge having a tonnage of 1000 tos accompanies the expedition. Over 2000 tons of goods, such as piece goods, tea. cocoa, coffee, and the complete machinery to fit out two soap factories, are be ing transported In the steamers and every available free place on board was loaded with coal.” How Demos Can Loss. From the Philadelphia Public Ledger. Tammany wants a wet plank w 1984. Tammany would. Brennan, of Illinois, who is more concerned about Chicago than about a democratic partv In the nation, will stand with Murphy. It might, even as Murphy suggests, be an excellent plan to settle the liquor question once ana for all by a referendum. Neverthe less, the democrats of the west and south will refuse to be bound t# the wheels of the Tammany beer truck chariot. If Messrs. Murphy, Brennan et al, of the wet wing of the democratic party wish to hand the election of 1924 to the republi cans on a waiter’s tray, they ar« proposing the best and easiest way to do it. Compulsory Voting in Czechoslovakia. From the Christian Science Monitor. There’s no forgetting to go to the polls tn Czechoslovakia. Voting is required by law and either cue takes part in the elections or suffers punishment because of failure to do so. In certain extrema cases, declares the Czechoslovakia Re view, excuses are aocepled, but these are very exceptional. “Failure to vote I* punished by a fine of not less than 20 Czechoslovak crowns nor more than 500 Czechoslovak crowns, or with imprisonment of not less than 24 hours nor more than one month. In Prague alone (after the recent elections.) 52,838 persons must explain why they failed to ap pear at the polls.’’ A Real Test. From the Chicago News. It takes an enthusiastic nature lover to get a thrill out *f husking corn. i -. * ^———C——i———————_ -1 " ..*m %? A&mim$4 l&Med^ln MjftWedyAit ly | ty JcKwy ^jrtutlU Hookie, the Goblin nibbled a large hole right jn the Cookie people’s Jront door. The front door was made of cake and covered with a lovely White icing. Maybe it did taste nice, but no one except a mean old Gob lin would think of nibbling any one's front door. Little mice sometimes nib ble cupboard and pantry doors, but that Is different. Hookie was nibbling the hole In the front door so that he could get in to the Cookie people’s house and live with them. That is what he said. But the Raggedys and Mr. and Mrs Cookie knew that if Hookie the Gob lin got inside the Cookie home he would nibble the Cookie people. “I wish the Snitznoodle would hur ry and return 1” Mrs. Cookie cried. “He won’t be back!” Hookie the Goblin said. By this time he had nib bled a hole large enough so that he could put his head through. “What is that you have on the table?” Hookie asked, "It looks Ilk# something to eatl” It was something to eat! It was a great big plate of cream puffs which Mrs. Cookie had Just taken from the oven. But no one answered Hookie, because he was very rude to nibble the front door and put his head through the hole. Raggedy Ann whis pered to Raggedy Andy and little Weeky and then Raggedy Andy and little Weeky caught hold of Hookie, the Goblin's ears and pulled them so hard, Hookie could not get his head back out of the door again. Then while Raggedy Andy and little Weeky held the Goblin, Raggedy Ann got Mrs. Cookie’s largest pan cake paddle and ran out the back door. "Don’t let him go!” Raggedy Ann said. “We won't!” Raggedy Andy and lit tle Weeky replied And they didn't either. Myl How Hookie the Goblin howled when Raggedy Ann paddy-whacked him with the large pancake paddle. Even Raggedy Ann could hear him even though the pan cake paddl# made a lot of noise. Hookie kicked and twisted, bui Raggedy Andy and little Weeky held on to his ears so tight, he could not get away. "Now!” I speckt that will be enough!" Raggedy Ann said as she gave the Goblin one more hard whack, “Now you can let him go Raggedy Andy and little Weeky!” So Raggedy Andy and little Weeks let go of Hookie's ears and he pulled his head out of the cake door, “You will be sorry for this!” the Goblin cried. Then, when he saw Raggedy Ann standing there with the pan cake paddle, the Goblin caught Raggedy Ann and would have carried her away, if the kind old Snitznoodle had not run up and given the Goblin a thump which sent aim howling over the candy garden wall, “Goblins are thean creatures!” Snitznoodle said, ‘I “Don’t lot him gol" Raggedy Ant aaid. came back to tell the cookie people I can't live with them because some one took my nighty!’’ “It was the Goblin!" Raggedy Ann said, "And h.ere Is your nighty right here on the cookie doorstep! Hookie, the Goblin tried to make us think It was his nighty and he wanted to live with the nice cookie people!” "I am glad we found it!” the Snitznoodle said'-’T’or now, I can stay here and thump the Goblin whenever he comes about and protect the'nice Cookie people from all harm!” The Snitznoodle hung his nighty behind tiho bedroom door In the house of the Cookie people. It was his home now, for he had promised to come and live with them so that he could protect them from the Goblin and other mean creatures who might try to harm them. Mr. and Mrs. Cookie and the two cookie children were very glad to have such a nice kindly creature as the Snitznoodlo living with them. And the Raggedys thought the Snltz noon in the cookie shop. Then one day a very nice little girl came in to buy a ioaf of bread for her mama and we were taken down and given to her. We rode to the little girl’s home in a nice clean paper bag. "There were lots of dolls there, ‘I shall not eat them mother!’ the little girl said, ‘They are too beau« tifull So «he Just played with us!* “Only once, the little girl just took a nibble of my foot!’ Mrs- Cookie laughed. “Well,” Mr. Cookie continued, “One night, what do you think? The lit-! tie girl’s puppy dog came In where we were lying on the toy piano and ate1 us up." "Dear me! How terrible!” the Snltznoodle said, “Hut surely you are Joking, Mr. Cookie, or how could you be here J” "Well, sir, Mr. Snltznoodle," Mr. Cookie said, “It was surprising to un. First I was eaten, but had no more than been eaten before I found my self in another place. Then pretty soon, I saw Mrs. Cookie here too. And the puppy dog had eaten her!" "I do not quite understand!” the | Snltznoodle said Raggedy Ann said she could not understand either but little Weeky laughed and said, “I’ll tell you why | the cookie people found themselves, hero after the Puppy dog had eaten them. Everything up in the world; : when it is lost for keeps, or when iti is broken so badly It cannot be mend-j ded like toys, or like flowers that are picked and then wither; Just go to sleep. Then in a few moments, they; awaken in Fairy Land! That is w>of ■ the nice Cookie people found them selves here as soon as the puppy dag had eaten them!” “How nice it Is!" the Snltznoodle said. “Isn’t it?” little Weeky laughed, “In that way, nothing is really ever wasted or destroyed!” Now that the Snitznoodle was a member of the Cookie household, it made things much easier for Mrs. Cookie. , , Not that Mrs. Cookie ever had very much to do. No not that. But when Mrs. . Cookie baked a lovely cake chicken and stuffed it witih ice cream and chopped nuts and chopped cher ries and pineapple she never had to throw any of It away. The Snitz noodle was sure to eat all that was left. And besides; the Snitznoodle al ways "did" the dls*hes. The way the Snitznoodle did “the" dishes was to take them all out in the yard and eat them. It was a lot easier than washing them and the dishes were made of thin stuff like Nabiscos and covered with icing to make them look like china- I’ll bet almost any little boy or girl could have eaten a peck of that kind of dishes. So, after dinner, the kindly Snitz noodle had taken all the dishes out In the front yard to eat them and ha was having a very pleasant time; arid the nice Cookie man had gone out In the back yard to give the cookie cow and cookie pigs six buck ets full of granulated sugar for their dinner. And Kaggedy Ann was pretending to play the cookie organ In the liv ing room. So no one heard the nice Cookie man cry out when Hookle the Goblin came up behind him and cap ture^ him. No one except the gentle cookie cow. “Now, I have you Mr. Cookie!” Hookle tlhe Goblin cried out as he stuffed Mr. Cookie In a large paper bag and tied a string around the top. "My!” Won't the Cookie man taste good?” the Goblin said to himself. He is made of chocolate cookie dough and covered with white and red Ic ing; Just like candy!” And Hookle the Goblin took the paper bag upo* his shoulder and started towards hi* home. Poor, kind nice Mr Cookie! He did not enjoy being tied up in a pap er bag ,and being carried away by the Goblin. For Mr. Cookie knew very well that the Goblin would nib ble him when the Goblin reached home. Eighty per cent, of the fanners of Oregon have telephones. Ancient wall writings have been found in a hitherto inaccessible part of the Grand canyon by a party of ex* plorers. The discoveries were made 5# miles from El lovar, Arizona. The Barling Bomber at Wilbur Wright field recently rose to an indicated dls-t tance of 6,300 feet, carrying a gross loadl Of 33.570 pounds. It left the earth In1 15 seconds and remained in the air an'l hour and 45 minutes. 1 John Stout. 96 years old. an Indian scout for General Custer at the time af the Custer massacre, died recently in Delaware, Ohio. He oscaped massacre by hiding in the carcass of a dead buf falo. A small tract of land near Evansville Ind., lying north of the Ohp river, now belongs to Kentucky. As a result of a change In the course of the Ohio river the boundary marker between Indiana and Kentucky is on the north side