SUFFERED
TWO YEARS
Finally Relieved by Taking
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound, Says
Mrs. Anderson
Rangeley, Maine. — “Lydia E. Fink
ham’s Vegetable Compound helped me
greatly for bearing
down pains in the
sides and baek, head
aches and tired feel
ings. 1 suffered for
two years and it,
seemed as though I
could not get my
work done from one
day to the next. Af
ter reading letters
from others who had
taken tho Vegetable
Compound I decided
to try it and now I can do all kinds of
work, sewing, washing, ironing and
sweeping. 1 live on a farm and have
five m tne family so am busy most of
the time. 1 recommend the Vegetable
Compound to my friends and hope my
letter will help some one to take your
medicine.”—Mrs. Walter E. Ander
son, Box 270, Rangeley, Maine.
Over 200,000 women have so fsr
replied to cur question, “Have yon
received benefit from taking Lydia E.
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H8 out of every 100 of the replies say,
“yes,” and because the Vegetable,
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405a-—-!-=5=1
ilgures rtuiy not lie. but estimates
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calluses, without soreness or irritation.
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The diagram shows you that the en
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NOVELIZED BY
EDWIN C. HILL
FROM WILLIAM FOX’S GREAT PICTURE ROMANCE
ftV ms HAST AND THE WEST
BY CH< J2ZLES KENYON AND JOHN RUSSELL
“When I left Jim at Fort
Bridger three months back, the
injuus were makin’ big med
icine—restless. Cheyennes were
carryin’ the’ war-pipe to the
Sioux agin’ the Pawnees and the
Shoshoni. White Bull and a
band of 30 Ogallalas had test
bin wiped out by Crows and
Shoshoni, and Crazy Horse was
| raisin’ th' red ax. Bridger
reckoned th’ great medicine
irrer of the Cheyennes was
mixed up iu it, somehow. Seems
like the Cheyennes had lost their
big med’icine, the magic arrer,
i durin' a Pawnee raid, 'illon the
j Ogallalas caught the Pawnees
I pannin,’ lifted a lot of ha’r and
carried the sacred' arrer away
with them. Next thing, Pawnees
imbush Ogallalas and take White
Bull’s skeip, with about thirty
more fer good measure. But
they didn’t get the arrer. Seems
like the Ogallalas finally sold it
back to the Cheyennes for a hun
dred poniea. It made a lot of
bad blood all ’round. When
Injuns paint red agin’ each
other, white men are apt to git
ketched in between ’less their
medicine is powerful strong.’’
“Maybe the trouble hasn’t
Btarted yet,” suggested Bran
don.
H amt liecrd definite, said
Spenee, but I wouldn’t be a mite
s’priscd if it had. Still, ‘hat
ain't the worst of it. Winter be
fore last was a black winter
among the tribes. Cramps and
small-pox. Very bad. Mato
Wayubi, Old Conquering Bear,
told me the Injuns were blamin’
the whites for causin’ what he
called ‘the people-had-spotted
death-winter. ’ A lot of braves
went to their happy hunting
grounds. InjuCs say their bones
must be covered.”
This news troubled Brandon.
Was it right, he asked himself,
to take Davy into the hills if
wha* such men as Bridger and
Spenee were saying was likely
to happen T
“ ’Course, if ye re bent on
j goin’ on,’’ said Spence, “I don’t
know that l‘d let Injun worries
hold me back. P’raps the worst
danger is from a band of Chey
ennes who’re said to be led by
a half-white renegade they call
* Two-Fingers.’ Jim and 1 hev
hcerd yarns aplenty about this
feller, though we never cut his
trail. Seems like his mother was
i a Cheyenne squaw which gave
him a big drag with the tribe.
His father was a French fur
trapper who settled in the
Smoky Hills region, back in the
thirties, and who got a grant of
laud from the Cheyennes. The
head men of the Cheyennes don’t
cotton much to this Two Fingers
party, but lie’s big medicine
with the young hot-heads who’re
alius ready fer the warpath. You
want to keep yer eye peeled fer
him, Brandon. He’s a murderin’
devil, by all accounts.”
“Thanks, Spence,” said Big
Dave. “I’m not likely to for
get a word of what you’ve told
me. Where is Mr. Bridger
now t”
“Jimf Oh, lie’s somo’r’s
’round Fort Laramie, or up the
Horseshoe. I surmiste Jim’s
tryin’ to palaver with the Sioux
and keep ’em out of a general
mixup. Jim stands ace-high with
Red Cloud.”
* Hope 1 run across nun, saut
Brandon. He’s a grand man.”
“Jim kin take keer of himself,
all right,” said Spence, with’ a
dry smile. “Maybe I’ll run
across ye, myself, before many
weeks. I’m goin’ up to Fort
Union with Stevens’s supply
gang, then I’m goin’ to strike
straight west to the Ilills.”
As the days pased, Brandon’s
apprehensions, roused by his
talk with Spence, gave way to
hia natural optimism and the
hopo which fired him. Before
the Oregon sighted Coucil Bluffs
he had made up his mind that
he could win through; that it
was his duty to go on. At the
Bluffs he said farewell to the ex
pedition, and after outfitting,
crossed the river and took the
Oregon Trail, the longest road
yet delevoped in the United
States, the ancient path which
had been beaten by tha buffalo
and tfc^ Indians. The jun-bleach
I
cd bones of the great animal
which was food and clothing—
life itself—to the Red Men,
marked every mile of the trail.
Day after day, he and little
Davy fared along the broad and
easy trail to Brand Island, where
the Platte River dipped far
thest south, and where the trail
veered to the southern bank; to
Fort Kearney, where it returned
to the north fork, and on toward
the fur-trading post at Laramie.
Lonely days were brightened
when they met east-bound wagon
trains rolling in from the Ore
gon, or when travelers overtook
and passed them. As Brandon
approached the gateway of his
dreams he beeame a new man.
Ambition drove him and high
hope illuminated his mind. As
for little Davy, the overland
journey was a daily joy. He
"thrived in the new life. He had
never been so happy. He learn
ed the trick of new and manly
things. Brandon taught him
secrets of the trail. He learned
how to cook, how to care for
horses.. He grew taller and
stronger.
Upon the Laramie Plains they
turned into the St. Vrain Trail
to the Laramie Mountains, or
the Black Hills, as some called
them, the low, savagely broken
range around which the Oregon
Trail swung in a wide detour
of almost two hundred miles.
It was in this labyrinth of gorges
and peaks that the surveyor felt
his work must begin—the search
for the pass which would make
possible the railway, the great
railway which would linke East
and West.
CHAPTER V
THE PASS
As they rode trail or camped
at night, Brandon explained
to Davy the heart of the prob
lem lie had set himself to solve.
“Most folks think it’s the
Rocky Mountains that’ll hold up
the railroad,” he said. “That
ain’t so. The road can top the
Rockies, high as they are. Those
passes are known. What’s need
ed is a short cut through these
foothills to save hundreds of
miles of building.”
\\ ith the practiced eye ot a
surveyor—and Brandon was a
first-rate civil-engineer in spite
of the faet that he had never
“amounted to anything”—he
studied' the topsy-turvy terrain
into which an Indian trail was
leading them from the Laramie
Plains. It was a very narrow
path, barely two feet wide, yet
so worn down by the countless
unshod hooves of Indian ponies
and the inoccasined feet of red
men that its sinuous, hard
beaten surface was half a foot
below the level of the sod.
“What we’ve got to locate,
son, is a reasonably straight line
through these hills, one that a
railroad can follow through
from the plains on the east to the
plains on the west, a series of
easy ridges connecting up with
each other at low grade, or with
gaps that can be bridged or filled
in,” he told Davy, as day after
day he took his healings and
made observations from t lie
crests of sawtooth ranges. They
were days of disappointment,
liidges that at first seemed prom
ising ended againsts impassable
buttes or in ravines that led
nowhere.
“] doubt if the J.ord ever made
another such country,” he said
to Davy. “Begins to look as if
only the birds could get over it
in a straight line.”
“You’ll find the way Daddy,”
said Davy. “1 just know it. My
daddy can do anything he sets
out to do.”
“Bless your heart, son,’’ said
Big Davo, as he gave his com
forter a hug that made the boy
wince. “I don’t know what I’d
do without you.”
From the headwaters of Lodge
I ole Creek, they turned south
ward through the ranges so
savagely gashed and twisted by
earth paroxysms of a million
years before their day. It was
hard, dangerous traveling, but
Brandon persevered, convic
tion growing upon him, though
there was nothing to feed it,
that, somewhere in this mad,
weird jumble of red sandstone
buttes and mountaia-rimmed
ravines, lay the road the Iron
Horse must follow.
“Guess it's the land God for
got,” said Davy, as their wonder
ing gaze took in the fantastic
shapes into which erosion had
sculptured the sandstone. Relies
of an incredibly ancient inland
sea, the greater buttes reared
up like battlenjents of medieval
cast lets, while among the lesser
freaks of the warm standstone
were grotesquely familiar mush
rooms, umbrellas and hour
glasses.
These strange monuments
raised to the childhood of man
kind by that whimsical architect,
Nature, were arresting, even
beautiful, in the brilliant sun
shine of June, but at night the
wizardry of the setting sun made
them unbelievably lovely. Failing
light and deepening shadow
painted them orange, mauve
and purple, and deep, deep blue.
They seemed monsters ready to
stir to action.
forests or pine loomed among
the stark buttes, while battalions
of slim birch marched in silvery
beauty along the borders of the
swift mountain streams. The
land was astir with game. White
tailed deer were past counting
among the brooks at early morn
ing or late evening. Lordly
moose snorted in the beaver
bogs. Black and brown bear
rootvS and grunted over decaved
logs, prying and pawing for the
grubs and ants they found so
sweet to the taste. “Old Eph
raim,” the grizzly, ranged the
hills undisputed monarch. There
was no lack of meat for the lar
der and Davy went wild with joy
over the wonderful brook trout
that swarmed* to his hook.
When night came on and their
camp was hemmed in by the
whispering, stirring dark and its
stealthy prowlers, they sat close
by the heaped-up fire needed for
comfort as well as for protec
tion in the sharp air of the high
altitude. When mountain lion
or lynx shrieked or squalled in
the timber, Davy nestled against
his daddy. lie heard the call of
the gray wolf packs hunting deer
through the valleys, and the
trembling, mournful night song
of the coyotes which, jackal-like,
followed the wolves for leavings,
or sneaked in a far circle around
the camp of the Brandons, mag
netized by the fire glow and the
* maddening smell of food. Often
ihe coyote concert ended with
a shrill, sobbing cry, like the
shuddering scream of a woman
in agony, a shrink which ran up
and down the sca-e of maniacal
mirth. Tn tin* daytime, forest
and plain vibrated with melody
cf birds, and overhead Davy
watched litigations of wil l ducks
and Canada geese, flights so vast
that they clouded the sun.
They had met no white man,
nor had they expected to find
any. A long way off they had
twice sighted Indian-hunting
parties, Brandon quessed for the
icd-ponies seemed to be burden
ed with game. One party passed
along a parallel ridge as father
and son made their way south.
Several times Big Dave had
marked smoke signals from dis
tant ridges, and had explained
to Davy how the red men tele
graphed to each other, with puffs
of smoke, spreading a blanket to
cut and control the smoke col
umns which rose from a fire of
green stuff. He believed, how
ever, that he had managed to
keep out of the sight of even
chance parties, but he never re
laxed vigilance, and some
thought of Silent Spence’s warn
ing of the renegade chief of the
Cheyennes kept pricking at the
back of his mind.
Late in June, as the forded
a tributary of Crow Creek, Bran
don got a shock of alarm. Less
than a quarter of a mile distant,
an Indian, sitting a calico pony,
was visible upon the spur of a
half-wooded ridge. Brandon had
only a glimpse. The Indian
swiftly backed his pony over
the ridge and out of sight. But
Big Dave knew he had been seen
by this red sentinel.
baying nothing to Uavy, he
led the way into the stunted
pine which climbed the ridge
they had been following. Ascend
ing, they made the crest of the
ridge and found that it stretched
away tb the south, unbroken, so
far as eye could see. Brandon’s
pulse quickened. lie had al
ready made sure of its unbroken
progress from the north. The
ominous picture of the Indian
scout faded from his mind as he
led the way along the backbone
of the curving range. They
rode steadily from midday until
late in the afternoon, the path
stretching ahead of them, un
troubled by gbrge or declivity,
a broad path upon which no
white man probably, had ever
set foot. As the shadows length
ened, Brandon’s intent gazed
finally marked what he had
dreaded. The ridge was now de
scending. The timber was thin
ning and opening out. He could
see farther ahead and more clear
ly. The ridge was dropping to
ward the rock wall of a moun
tain range towering east and
west, at right angles to their
path. There was no outlet that
he could detect. But he kept
going, following a twisting trail,
peering ahead. The horses round
ed a low butte. At once he had
a view of the dark mountain
range which blocked their course.
Big Dave's glance fell at once
upon a break in the tremendous
barrier, a gap through which
the sun was shining, the purple
plains beyond faintly visible. He
stared until his eyes ached. Now
that it loomed squarely in front
of him, this titanic slash in the
mountain wall, toward which
the gently descending ridge was
trending as straight as road
could travel, he found it hard
to accept its existence.
His heart pounded. He wanted
to sing, to shout. It was the
pass! His pass! No finer na
tural gateway through the hills
could have been hoped for than
that tremendous rift at the very
foot of the ridge he had traveled
for many miles, llis mind swriled
with plans. With a week’s
work he could map the region,
preparing field notes to convince
the skeptical. He would have the
proof for them, in black and
white, in cold figures—proof that
a railroad from the Missouri
easily making its way over the
plains along the old Oregon
Trail and the Platte, could build
straight through the Laramie
Mountains instead of making the
long detour. Here vTas the pass
which Providence itself must
have hewed in that mad laby
rinth of criss-crossing ranges.
The future shaped itself. He
would return to Springfield
with his notes and figures. Lin
coln would get him a hearing.
IIow Tom Marsh would stare!
Brandon grinned at the thought.
Then for New York and the big
men waiting to be shown! This
pass was no dream. It was real.
It would mean fortune for many !
men. The road builders, uniting |
East and West, would be richer
than old Astor. Davy! What
it would mean for Davy!
Everything he had missed in his
old life of struggle and toil. He
caught Davy to him.
“Son, I’ve found it!’’
Slowely extending his arm, he
guided the hoy’s gaze toward
that glorious rift in the moun
tain wall.
~ (TO BE CONTINUED)
The Facts of Taxation.
From St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
Back in the 80’s when the
fight over an exorbitant post-war
tariff was raging, the chief embar
rassment to the protectionists was
the fact that customs receipts were
accumulating at such a rate that the
surplus in the treasury over govern
mental needs became a problem.
No such problem, of course, can
embarrass the protectionists of to
day. No matter how high the re
ceipts may go, with a friendly ad
ministration the beneficiaries of pro
tection can get such sums applied to
t*e reduction of their income taxes.
Every movement undertaken to re
duce income taxes has been ac
companied with information from
the treasury that customs receipts
had exceeded estimates. Ia the pres
ent year, we are Informed, receipts
from Import duties to the last day of
reckoning are J5,000,l)00 above those
of the corresponding date in 1924.
Income taxes, of course, should be
reduced as rapidly as possible. But
how about the incomes of the con
sumers, who, on account of the
tariff, are paying an enormous tax
not extracted from them directly but
hidden in the price of everything
they buy? The tariff tax for the fis
cal year ending 10 months ago was
5545,637,504. This exceeds by $142,
000,000 the entire receipts of the
government in 1890, and throws into
a shadow the $318,891,395 collected
in the last year of the operation of
the Payne-Aldrich law, the iniquities
of which threw the republican party
Into an unwilling retirement for eight
years.
When will the people get the
hone,rt-to-John facts of who is actual
ly paying the income tux and paying
tlie cost of the war? Isn’t it time
for the citizenry to have at Wash
ington an independent and scientific
bureau uf statistics to clarify and
classify the facts of taxation, both
direct and indirect?
U. S. Enables Bulgaria
To Produce Physicians
Sofia.—Bulgaria's corps of practic
ing physicians has been augmented by
tlie first detachment of “home made”
doctors over produced in this country.
The medical department of Sofia
university has just graduated its first
class. The department was established
during the war, but it was not until
four years ago that a complete medi
cal course was nsttuted. hTere were
43 students In the first graduating
class.
Prior to the establishment of the
department Bulgarians who sought to
study medicine were forced to attend
universities in other countries.
hTe success of the department has
been made possible largely through
gifts fro mint Rockefeller Founda
toa.
Pungent Paragraphs
--
When radio vision comes Into gen
eral use there Is going to be necessity
for a lot of people being careful as to
how nnd where they do their step
ping.-—Connellsville Courier.
You, too, may have noticed that the
fellow who is eternally yelping about
a fair deal is never entirely satis
fied until he gets a little the best of
it.—Shreveport Journal.
The ones who loo* down on the
vvcrld from a great ho.ight are avia
tors, intellectuals and kids of 16.—
I.exington Daily Leader.
The spring fever in Florida seems
to be a burning desire for new coun
ties.—Tampa Times.
If some men felt as bad as they
realty are it would be useless to call
In a doctor.—Bridgeport Post.
The man on foot often overtakes
happiness, where the man who pur
sues it at high speed fails.—Colum
bus Dispatch.
Not only is April flooding Llontana
with sunshine but they do say that
the floods of moonshine in these
parts show no signs of abatement.—
- Anaconda Standard.
It is amaning how many peopla
there arc who simply want to get In
the wav.—Chattanooga News.
Sojtp made Lord Levenhulme a
multi-millionaire. Ho cleaned up.
Wichlta Daily Kaglo.
Rail Troubles In East.
From the Boston Transcript.
Charles E. Lee, a former superin
tendent of the Boston & Maine Rail
road, testified at the hearing on the
proposed abandonment of the New
buryport branch that, in his opinion,
ar.y railroad that abandoned lines
within 30 miles of Boston would re
gret it in 10 years. Ilia judgment
was based upon his belief in the con
tinued growth of Boston and the
towns and cities nearby. Mr. Leo
placed himself among those who
have faith in Massachusetts. More
than that, his statement sharply em
phasized the fact that there is a
proposal to ser.d to the junk pile a
railroad very differently situated
from some of the other lines which
ihu Boston & Maine seeks to aban
don. The Xewburyport branch is
Within the dooryard of a great and
growing city. In view of the pos
sibilities of tIre future, it if! all the
more important that there should bo
such conference between the road
and the towns on the branch as
1’resident Ilustis and representatives
of the remonstrants say they will
welcome.
But the question does not solely
concern the road and the patrons of
the branch. It means much to tha
larger community. Incidentally it
may be said that it will be poor ad
vcrtislng for Boston ft the news goes
out iliat railroad tracks almost within
tiie shadow of Beacon Hill are being
abandonco because the railroad takes
tl’.e ground that it cannot make both
ends meet. It will be poor advertis
ing for the Boston & JIhine Railroad
to have it said that It Is scrapping a
line in country so n",nr to Boston
that it may properly be described
ns the heart of the railroad system.
World’s Best Killers.
From the Dcs Moines Tribune.
Almost 10 persons of every 100,
000 in the United States were mur
dered last year. This is an increase
over 1923 and an increase of 2.7 per
rons over tlie record of the 10-year
period from 1911 to 1921. America’s
rate of 9.9 i3 not even approached by
that of its nearest competitor, Italy,
for the period 1910-20. Italy’s rata
was just half that of tiro United
States over the segno period and a
little more than one-tliird of our
present rate. Australia, with 1.9,
Aits third.
Jacksonville, Fla., has the dis
tinction of doing the largest busi
ness in murder. Its rate last year
was 58.S which wr y a decrease of al
most .3 from its 1923 rate. St.
Louis turned in 21.7, a substantial
decrease and Chicago 17.5, an equally
substantial increase.
The Glove and the Lions.
King Francis was a hearty king, and
loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought,
sat leaking on the court.
The nobles filled the benches and the
ladies in their pride,
And ’mongst them eat the Count de
Lorge, with one for whom he
sighed;
And truly ’twas a gallant thing to see
that crowning show.
Valor and love, and a king above,
and the royal beasts below.
Ramped and roared the lions, with
horrid, laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like
beams, a wind went with their
paws;
With wallowing might and stifled
roar they rolled on one another.
Till ail the pit with sand and mane
was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came
whisking through the air;
Said Francis then, “Faith, gentlemen,
we’re better here than there.’’
De Lorge’s love o’erheard the king,
a beauteous .Lely dame,
With smiling lips and' sharp bright
eyes, which always seemed the
same;
She thought, “The count, my lover
is brave as brave can be; ’
He surely would do wondrous things
to show hl.3 love of me;
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the
occasion Is divine;
I’ll drop my glove to prove his love
great glory will be mine.”
She dropped her glove, to prove his
love, then looked at him and
smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaned
among the lions wild;
The leap was quick, return was quick
he has regained Ibis place
Then threw the glove, but not with
love, right in the ladv’s face
"By heaven,” said Francis, “rjghtlv
i'c'lur and h° r°Se Uorn where
“.No love,” quoth he, “but vanity
sets love a task like that.”
—Leigh Hunt.
Nothing Visible.
From the Denver Parakeet.
a. freshn.a* from Vassar.
On, dear, she sighed. “X simply can’t
adjust my curriculum.”
“It doesn’t show any.” he reassured
her, blushing. And then they both
talked rapidly about the decorations.
■ Greatest tunnel In the world soon
wi'l i>e built under the Mersey river in
England to connect the city of Liver
pool with Birkenhead and adjacent
towns on the south bank of tne river.
It will have an Internal diameter of 44
feet, greater than the Hudson river
tunnel now nearing completion The
tube will contain two decks, one for
automobiles, the other for street ggre.
