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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (July 17, 1930)
ty y -V. Ak TRUE sportsman is as carcfu! about bis pipe tobacco as be is about bis lures. Why distress the poor fish and ta.nl the pure air with a strong pipe when Sir Walter Raleigh’s fa vorite smoking tobacco costs so little, and is so mild and fragrant? Ihc soars* of the Sir Walter Raleigh Umd is due to the use of very choice Burlevs, which, although mild, Lark neither body nor flavor. The quality is uniform, and the gold foil wrap retains all the natural freshness and fragrance. TUNE In on "The Rileith Revue” ever> Fri.lar. 10:00 to 11:00 p.m. (New York Time), over the WEAF cout-to-tout network of N.B.G IT’S 15^— and milder Roofing and Repairs NATIONAL ROOFING CO.,Inc. (Janata— Situs City—Siom rail*—CMacll DIoI'i Write for E'.elinates Easy Reading George 1’. llakor, Jr., I ho New Tork capitalist, was talking on the Olympic about foreign exchanges. "The fluctuations of the frunc and the lira," he said, "always have a meaning—a meaning ns easy to read as the llobson episode. ■"‘Where vdld you get that black «yeT Hobson’s chum was asked. “* ‘llobson,’ said the chum, *ta j*jst back from liis honeymoon. It was lae, you know, who introduced him to his bride.”’ ♦ . ------------------------------ Irons in the Fir® ■“Where are you going to spend your vacation?” “it all depends.” •'On vvlmt?” “I’m answering questions In sis travel contests.” Keeping Its Reputation Nebraska, the homo of Arbor day, 5n 1S128 distributed GS”000 trees to 2,600 farmers at a cent nplece, to he frianted ns windbreaks.—"Country Home. A mnn who isn’t afraid of having «*<« centered upon him from ull Bales is lit ted for holding office. Hew One Woman Lost 20 Pounds of Fat Lost Her Double Chin Lost Her Prominent Hips Lost Her Sluggishness Coined Physical V Igor <*axnctJ in Vivaciousness Csioed a Shapely Figure If you’re fat-toJrst remove the estate! 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THE DESERT MOON MYSTERY H KAY CLEAVER STRAHAN L.- . . 1; “Sam Stanley!” I gasped. “You can’t refuse. That’s all. Own twin sisters! And Danny as innocent as a new born babe—” “Don’t talk like a book, Mary. Danny may be as inno cent as she ?eems to be, and— she may not. She, nor anyone else, can leave this place until we have gotten to the very i bottom of this thing. That | goes.” “To think you paid attention j to that fool reporter!” “Don’t be a fool yourself,” Sam urged. “This note, in Gaby’s handwriting, clears Danny of the crime, if all the other evidence didn’t, which it does. Wc know that she did not kill her sister. But, of all the people in this house, she is in the best position to know who did do it. Of course, if she is Involved in this she is involved innocently. If she put the key in your pocket, while we were out in the car, she did it with no idea of what she was doing. Just the same, I want her right~ here on the Desert Moon, for a while. Mary, you take the note to her, and explain, in your nice way—” ”1 it give ner me note, sam, I said. “But you’ll have to do the explaining yourself. I’ll tell you why. It isn’t right for , you to try to protect anyone, not even Martha, to the extent of refusing to allow one sister to carry out the dying request of another sister.” Sam dropped his pipe. As I saw the tobacco and the ashes scatter, I was more certain than ever that I was acting as a decent woman should. The door opened, and Dan- j ny came in. She was so pale that her checks had sort of a greenish tinge to them. Great dark circles spread far down under her eyes that were red and swollen from crying. I hurried to her, and put my arms around her. She clung to me, and hid her head on my shoulder, and said my name over and over. Sam turned away, as if he could not bear to look at us. I took her^into the living room, and sat down in a big chair and held her in my lap. “If only,” she kept saying, “if only she could have left us in her beauty. She was beauti ful, Mary. And now—” Remembering what I had seen the night before, I knew that I must get her mind into other channels if her reason was to be saved. I thanked my stars, when I remembered the note. After she had read it, she cried harder than ever; but I knew that it wras crying of a saner sort. “Will you go withe me, Mary?” she questioned, when she had quieted some. “To San Francisco?” “We’ll have to talk to Sam about that, dear,” I said. It J was the habit of helping him, not any kindly impulse, that made me continue. “I am afraid that Sam wants us all to stay here, for a while. There, there, dear. You see how it is, don’t you? Sam thinks that the duty of each one of us, right now, Is to stay here and help try to find the : guilty person.” “Docs Uncle Sam think we will find him here?” she questioned. I tried to tell myself that I had been mistaken; that she had not emphasized Sam’s name in a hard, pointed way, as she had seemed to do. “There isn’t anywhere else to try to find him,” I said, j “Did you know about the key j in my pocket?” She nodded. “I knew about that," she said. “What else Gid you know about?” I asked, a mite sharp ly, for there was no mistaking j her emphasis this time. “Nothing,” she said, hur- i t I riedly. “Nothing. But, Mary, doesn’t it seem posible to you that someone, clear from the outside, did it? And gave the key to Chad, and asked him to put it in your pocket? And that, for some reason we probably never shall discover, Chad could not, dared not, tell on the person who gave it to him? And that is why he shot himself?” “And we hadn’t thought of that!” I gasped. “I do believe it. It is as clear as day.” Her sudden, definite silence talked as plainly as any words she could have spoken. “Danny,” I questioned, “you thought of that, but in your heart you don’t believe it. Do you?” “I—I want to believe it,” she evaded. “But you don’t?” I persisted. She was silent. “Danny,” I pleaded, “tell me about it. Just tell me, dear. I’ll never breathe it to a soul, if you say for me not to. What is it that you know, or think that you know?” She waited so long before answering me that I thought surely she was finding the words with which to take me into her confidence. I was so j disappointed I could have cried with her, when she hid ; her face on my shoulder, ; again, and moaned, “Mary— i I can’t. I dare not tell. I tell you—I dare not.” She jumped up out of my lap, and ran upstairs as if wicked, dangerous thing were rurmine after her. CHAPTER XX A confession John came into the room. “The outfit is back, or most of it,” he said. “Darn their' j souls! Curiosity, nothing else. ! But for this, they wouldn’t have shown up for two days yet. I think the women went into the kitchen just now, Mary.” There they were, Belle, Sadie and Goldie, all huddled up together like a bunch of something, near the back door. As I came into the room, they jumped and screeched. The only thing that makes me madder than being scared my self is to scare somebody else. I spoke to them right sharply. I told them that I expected them to go about their work, and to act like sensible girls while so doing. I told them that we had enough to put up with, just now, without adding a parcel of jumping, squealing girls to our load. Sadie, the sauciest of the lot, ' on account of imagining that being married made her more independent than the other girls, spoke up. “We haven’t decided yet that we want’a go workin’ in a house where a murderer, and maybe moren’ one, is livin’,” “If that’s the way you feel about it,” I said, “the sooner you leave the better. It is an honor to work in the Desert Moon ranch-house, and you! know it.” “Maybe ’tis. Maybe ’tain’t.” Sadie sauced back. “You’ll not get girls as easy to-day as you would of yesterday. ■ Murders and suicides—if it was a suicide—don’t do much in makin’ a ranch pop’lar for help." “Very well,” I said. “If you are going, go now. If not put on your aprons and get to work.” I could scarcely believe my eyes. The three of them ske daddled out through the door. I felt sort of sick, watching them go. Not because I’d have to teach new girls the work and my ways, but because their leaving gave me my first realization that the Desert 1 Moon.Ranch was darkened by the shadow of sin, that the eclipse I had feared was upon us. When I telephoned to Sam, down in his office in the out ' fit's quarters, I tried to keep ! the truth from him; saying, only that the girls and I had had a spat, and asking him to ! find some new girls for me. He came up, in about half an hour, with an Indian girl, not more than fifteen years j old, trailing along behind him. Answering his nod, I went with him into the living-room. "She is the only one I could get,” he said. "We’ll have to send to Reno or Salt Lake. None of the outfit want their women folks working here. I don’t blame them. The Desert Moon Ranch is disgraced—” He stopped short. I thought that it was be cause he could not bear to go on with what he had begun to say; until, following his eyes, I saw that he was looking at a piece of paper on the writing desk just in front of him. It had been propped up against a vase; but it had slithered down into a curve. He reached for it; read it, and handed it to me. "I killed her. Chadwick Caufield. P. S. Sorry to put you to the trouble of disposing of me. Make is cheap and snappy. I haven’t a relative in the world. P. G.” “A lie,” Sam said. "I think so. "I know damn well it is. I tell you, she had been dead two or three hours, anyway— probably longer—when we found her. Listen, Mary. Be tween four and five o’clock— we all saw her alive at four— Chad sat right there at that piano, and he never left it once. Did he?” "No, he didn’t. I kept think ing he would, to join Gaby. But he didn’t.” "Between five and six o’clock,” Sam went on, "he was with me, every minute of the time, down in the barn, and coming up to the house. Never out of my sight. Be tween six and seven he was with us all at supper. If he’d been gone all afternoon, I’d know that note was a lie; know it just as well as I know it now—” "But why did he shoot him self, then, Sam?” "God knows. He thought he loved her.” “But this note! A confes sion! Why would he die in dis grace, when we know he was innocent?” "God knows. To shield some one else, I reckon.” "Who?” Sam dropped his pipe. I heard him stamping the sparks out. I did not look down. I did not want to look down. CHAPTER XXI A Summons It might be,” Sam said, as he refilled his pipe, “that Chad did not write this. I’ll send it, with some of his other writing, to one of these hand writing experts I’ve read about.” "He wrote it, I said. "The writing is his. So is the word ing. You know it.” I looked at him straight. I felt something tighten around my heart as if it had been roped by a professional. I guess I was too sentimental. But I couldn’t bear to see Sam's good old face all aching with worry. "Sam,” I wheedled, "have sense. We’ve a confession here that will satisfy the world. He killed her; and, when the body was found, he shot himself. Nothing could be more reason able. No one would doubt it. We can send this to the papers —he has no relatives to be disgraced, or to sorrow over it—and the Desert Moon will be cleared of crime. One of your favorite sayings, Sam, is to let well enough alone.” Sam drew himself up to the top of his six feet and five inches and looked down, from there, at me; away down—as far, say as if I had suddenly dropped into a dirty old cistern. "There is no question of well enough,” he shouted, so that I could hear him in my depths, "until the Desert Moon is cleaned, clean, Mary Magin. Cleaned and fumi gated, or destroyed. It is not going to be whitewashed. There is someone on this ranch who is as quilty as hell; who knows who committed the murder; wrho aided and abetted it. We are going-to i find that person. Then we will find the murderer. They’ll be hung together. After that, we can leave well enough alone." "Suppose," I suggested, "that Chad was the accom plice." “I reckon,” he said, growing suddenly kind, "that you’ve been through too much, Mary. That’s it. You aren’t quite re sponsible to-day. I don’t wonder. But reason with me, Mary. "Somebody suggested, al ready today, that it was Chad who put the key in your pocket. When did he get the key to put it there? Well, say that he got it between seven and eight o’clock, when he was out scouting by himself. Did he meet some entire stranger then, who asked him to dis pose of the key? Did he agree to do it, as a favor to said stranger? Did he, later, shoot himself and leave a lying con fession to shield the stranger? The stranger, that is, who had killed the girl Chad loved? Chad did carry some secret to the grave with him, Mary. I am sure of that. But not a secret that we can t discover. We are going to discover it.” To doubt Sam, standing there before me talking so earnestly to me, to doubt his honesty of purpose and his goodness, was more than a question of doubting my eyes, my ears, my senses, for the moment. It would have been to doubt the things that had made up my life for the past twenty-five years, it would have swept away all of my ac cumulated certainties, all of my conclusions, all of my standards, as a wind sweeps trash from the desert. It would have left me as aimless and as wind-tossed as tumble weeds. “Sam,” I began, resolved to tell him, then and there, about those pipe ashes of his on the beaded bag. I had waited too long. Mrs. Ricker was coming down the stairs. “I think,” she said, “that Martha should not sleep so late. I fear that she is sleeping too heavily.” “It ia a blessing that she can sleep,” Sam said. “She is all right. Those sleeping powders are as powerful as all get-out. I got them from a doctor in ’Frisco, when I was down there last year, and they made me sleep when I had neuralgia. I’m going up, though, I’ll have a look at her. “By the way,” he added, from the stairway, “I want you two ladies to be here in this room, at promptly three o’clock this afternoon.” “Upon my soul!” I said, when Sam was out of sight. “What do you suppose that means?” I might have spared my breath. She did not answer. But she did someth'^ig down right unusual for Mr's. Ricker. She looked at me; and, as I met her look it seemed to me that there was a pleading ex pression in her face, as if, were she able to talk, she’d like to ask me to do something for her. I have seen dogs look like that, at times. “What is it, Mrs. Ricker?” I questioned. She shook her head, and walked to the windows and turned her back on me. I looked at the straight, gaunt back, and at her long arms hanging at her sides. She seemed frail. And yet, she could hold Martha still, when Martha was in one of her tan trums, and that was more than I, a much stouter woman, could do. She, w'ith no one but Martha who did not count, had been alone in the house for an hour the evening be fore, while the others of us had been out hunting for Gaby. Sam insisted that Gaby had been dead two or three hours when we found her. But was he certain of that? How did he know? Might he be mis taken?-Mrs. Ricker had hated Gaby, as only a jealous wo man can hate. (TO BE CONTINUED) Airplane Scatters Seed; Good Clover Crop Grows Beaumont, Tex. — (AP) --Seed scattered from an airplane has pro duced a good stand of clover on a farm near Beaumont. On March 22, some 15 acres of the pasture on the farm of Ed Hebert were planted In lespedcza, or Japan ese clover, by airplane. Now Hebert has what he terms a near perfect stand of the clover from the five bushels of seed scattered. The planting of the clover from the air was a feature of a program arranged to Interest farmers In the I permanent pasture campaign in east Texas being sponsored by the ! 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