j When at last the solemn
pud silent party drew into the
yard Jim Chaffee sat in the
•addle and struggled with
himself. A light shimmered
(through the house window,
Snd while he debated the door
was thrown open, Miz Satter
lee standing in the threshold
and peering across the
shadowed porch. “All back,
boys?" she asked. “Didn’t Mr.
Batterlee come with you?” In
a moment she seemed to sense
the troubled spirit of the party
and her eyes made out the dim
bulk of the rig. “What is It,
boys?” The calm, self-con
tained tones shamed Jim
Chaffee. He got down and
came to the steps. He had
figured to break the news,
easily, to start from afar. Now
he knew there was only one
thing to say.
“Ma'am—Dad is—dead.”
f He had to remember that
choked sentence the rest of
his life, and feel at each re
membrance the same pinch
ing at h!s heart. That night
he was sending a woman down
into the black pit of despair.
Nor did he ever forget the
manner in which she received
jthe news. He couldn’t see her
resolute, motherly face in the
black vault of the porcn, ana
Vor that he was thankful. But
he heard the rising and the
Isettling of her breath; and
[then breathing seemed to
;cease. She seemed to grow
•away from them; the outline
!of her body became blurred
j|n the shadows, and the long
moments went by with never
another sound. Every man in
the party was as if cut from so
much stone, and in this
strange, profound lull Jim
Chaffee heard the faint drip
drip of water in a remote part
of the house, like a fatal pen
dulum accenting the swift
passage of all things living. It
grew unbearable; he stepped
toward her to speak again.
•‘Bring Mr. Satterlee in the
house,” said she, very quietly.
The crew obeyed and passed
'out. The door closed; the light
of the room after a short
Interval was snuffed. The rest
of the Stirrup S men went to
the bunkhouse, but Chaffee,
somehow feeling his place to
be on the porch, sat in the
shadows and waited.
He didn’t know how long it
was before that door opened.
It seemed to him a matter of
hours, in which he heard her
rocking-chair slowly traveling
back and forth, never varying
the tempo, never slacking until
at the end of the long vigil
she called to him.
“Jim. You are a good boy.
Tell me about it.”
He stood on the threshold,
facing the darkness of the
room, and told all that he
knew of the story, even to the
boot prints he had filled with
tar.
“You don’t think Clyde—had
anything to do with it, then?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Poor soul. I am sorry for
him. Do you think you will
find the right man, Jim?”
“I will."
“What will you do with
him?
"tie u go aown, muttereu
Jim Chaffee.
“No,” said Miz Satterlee.
'*\Ve don’t live according to
tablets of stone, Jim. “When
you find the man put him in
Jail. Let others decide. And
Jim—”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Send the boys out to-night
to notify Mr. Satterlee’s
friends. I want them to see
him go to sleep up there where
the rest of my family sleeps.
Don’t you go. I want you on
the ranch. That’s all. Don’t
stay up. This is—my affair.”
\ So, in the middle of the fol
lowing afternoon, surrounded
by his friends, Dad Satterlee
was laid beside his three
v In Life as in Golf.
From Kansas City Star.
Novelty will never cease its al
lurement and perhaps never should.
The appeal of what is new, or
teems to be (which amounts to
the same thing, gives an indis
pensible etement of hope and vari
ety to life and helps to sustain the
belief that the whole business of
'•living is deeply worth while, or will
toe tomorrow, anyway. These pro
found remarks are provoked by a
brief dispatch on “The new. larger
and lighter golf ball.”
It Is Indicated that some golfers.
Including professions's, feel that
the new ball contributes to better
10
children; and presently the
Stirrup S was alone to itself
again, save for one man who
tarried. That man was William
Wells Woolfridge. Jim Chaffee
watched him go to the house
porch and bow to Miz Satter
lee. A few minutes later the
mistress of Stirrup S beckoned
and Jim crossed the yard, re
ceiving an abrupt nod from
Woolfridge.
Miz Satterlee was. in her
black silk dress; she carried
herself erect, her dark eyes
lifted proudly toward her
visitor. “I am making it a
policy, Mr. Woolfridge, to dis
cuss all my business affairs
in front of Jim Chaffee from
now on. He will be interested.
Go ahead.”
‘‘I mention this to-day only
because I wish to bring before
! you without delay a matter
that has long been discussed
by myself and your husband,”
said Woolfridge, paying no at
tention to Jim. ‘‘Frankly, as I
told him, I wanted the Stirrup
S. Vanity, perhaps, but I
! should like to be able to say
that my brand runs from the
bench to the alkali wastes. I
am quite able to pay for my
| foibles.”
"wnat, was Mr. saueriees
reply to that?”
Woolfridge gave Chaffee a
rather long and close survey.
“He said it was entirely a
matter of price.”
“What price?” asked Miz
Satterlee, never letting her
attention stray from Wool
fridge’s smooth cheeks.
“As a matter of fact, I had
not yet gotten a price from
him,” frankly admitted the
man.
“I didn’t think so. I have
heard him speak about it.”
“There is lie reason why you
should wish to run the place
now, Mrs. Satterlee.”
"There is every reason why
I should. And I do not care to
j ever hear of an offer from you
again. As long as I live this
ranch is mine. When I die I
shall will it to friendly hands.
I want it to go on. That is
absolutely final.”
“You are quite sure?” asked
Woolfridge, urbane and mild.
“I am. Never think you can
change me.”
“In that case I’ll not bother
you again to-day. I think,
perhaps, it is unnecessary to
remind .you, Mrs. Satterlee,
that I regarded your husband
as my best friend. If there is
ever anything you want of me
please ask. And if at any time
you change your mind I wish
you’d let me know.”
“Thanks, but I won’t.”
Woolfridge got on his horse
and rode down the trail. Jim
Chaffee turned a puzzled face
to Miz Satterlee. “What did
you want me for, ma’am?”
“Like I said. To keep your
fingers on the business. I am
making you manager of
Stirrup S to-day, Jim. I’m too
old to fight. And, if I know
anything about affairs, there
is going to be trouble here.
Act from now on as if the
place belonged to you. I give
you absolute charge.”
unnrir.rv vi
Fences Down
Midmorning of the day after
j Dad Satterlee’s funeral Chaf
. fee went to town. His purpose
was to see Doc Fancher and
ask a few questions concerning
the dead gambler; also to find
Mack Moran who had never
returned to the ranch. Once
in Roaring Horse he went di
rectly to the Red Mill. Mack
wasn’t there, nor did Chaffee
find him at any of the other
Saloons; however, the red
headed puncher had left a
broad trail of ruin behind him.
According to several citizens,
Mack had gone moody—not an
unusual thing for him when he
started to think about the in
justices of the world—and had
indulged in several free and
play. But Harvey S. Firestone an
nounces for himself and three of
his companions at Ormond Beach,
that, while txperience with the new
ball Is limited, it seems just as
easy to miss a shot with it as with
the old ball. This points to the
disturbing conclusion, which many
a player has reached inwardly,
that within reasonable limits the
actual trouble with poor golf scores
is not the ball or even the kind of
club used, but something else. Most
players could guess the real trouble,
but can’t afford to be outspoken
about It. That would be too em
barrassing.
But it is pretty much the same
•varvwhere else in life. A new vear
i sanguinary battles, with this
' much information Chaffee
v/asted no more time hunting.
He went to the jail; there was
Mack down in the basement
cell, smoking glumly.
“Well?’ grinned Chaffee.
Mack’s rosy face was a little
scarred; but there was relief
in his eyes. “Wondered how
long I’d cool here before yuh
got worried. Lemme out of
this stink hole.”
“They’s twenty dollars as
sessed agin him,” stated the
marshal. “If his carcass is
worth that much to yuh on
the hoof, —Jim, he’s yores.”
“That’s cheap,” agreed
Chaffee. “Let the catamount
I loose.”
“He’d ought to be put under
a perpetual bond,” said the
marshal, jingling his keys.
“When lie gits sore he’s a
natcheral borned assassin.
Mebbe yut think he didn’t
plumb devastate Roarin’ Horse
fer about three hours. Took
six of us to lug him down here.
It happens once every four
months, regular as a clock.” He
let Mack out of the cell and
accepted twenty dollars from
Jim. Out of his mellowed and
easy-going comprehension of
the range and its ways, he
spoke a mild warning. “I don’t
mind, personal. Boys have got
to blow-off. But be careful
from now on. Things is chang
in’ around here. I ain’t goin’
to enlarge on the statement.
But let it hatch in yore coco.
Things is changin’.”
“I will shore testily to mat,
grunted Mack. He shook hands
with the marshal. “No hard
feelin’s, Will. I’ll see you get
a new shirt for the one I
; tore.” The partners went out
and ate a bite. Afterward they
rolled along the street, smok
i ing. “It gets me how a place
can change,” said Mack. “A
month ago any Stirrup S man
was high card around here.
Our credit was good and w-e
never got slung into the cala
boose except to sober up. Now
look. The talk about us boys
is terrible scandalous. That’s
why I got started. Run into
three separate gents that
made tough passes about what
! an outfit we was.”
What was their complaint
in particular?” asked Chaffee,
i ‘“I never found out,” re
plied Mack, very casually.
“They didn't wake up in time
to tell me. Yuh figger I’m goin’
to stand around and fiddle my
fingers while they get wise?
: It’s the same all over town.
| Funny how quick it’s changed.
Somebody’s behind it. Some
body’s put a bug in certain
ears. And that Luis Locklear
person ain’t no help to Stirrup
S, neither. I saw him chinnin’
with Calalian in the Red Mill
other night. You’d ’a’ thought
they was twins. When a sheriff
of Roarin’ Horse gets neigh
borly with Callahan it shore
means somethin’ poisonous.”
“Where’s those tar models?”
“I left ’em bundled up in the
stable.”
They went into the stable
and away down an alley be
tween bales of hay. Mack dug
around, retrieved a gunny
sack, and handed it to Jim.
They went out and crossed
the street to Doc Fancher’s
office, which was over Tilton’s
dry-goods store. “Seen Theo
dorik Perrine since night be
fore last?” asked Chaffee.
“Nope. He's skinned out.”
Something struck Mack sud
denly. “But here’s a funny
thing. Last night I was in the
jug. That cell’s got a window
flush with the back side of
the buildin’, you know. And I
heard Luis Locklear talkin’ to
a gent out there among the
busted wagon frames and
loose balin’ wire. Mebbe it’s
all my imagination, but It
shore sounded like he was
meetin’ up on the quiet with
Perrine. What do you figger?”
“Maybe. Listen, Mack, I’m
going to be around here for
an hour or better and it’s a
long ride home. Anyhow, Miz
Satterlee to lope over to
Nickerson’s. Seems like Nick
erson has got some old tin
types of Dad Satterlee which
he is_goin’ to give her. You
better bust thataway. Be dark
when you’re home.”
“All right. Now don’t you
' is much better than an old one.
and everything is going to run a
lot more smoothly, at least until the
new year itself gets a little older.
Then it is the same trouble over
again, and the only thing to do
is to wait patiently the remaining
10 or 11 months until another new
year can come in and straighten
everything out. On a lesser scale,
that holds for a new day. OI course,
and always, everything is going to
be better tomorrow. And who does
not know the good fortune that al
ways is awaiting a fellow when he
moves to a new place for business?
, That. is. it waits until he eets there,
; g< get in the calaboose.'*
j They separated. Jim Chaffee
| climbed the stairs and let
himself into a door labeled:
“H. T. Fancher, M. D., County
Coroner and Bone Specialist.”
The term ‘‘bone specialist”
i was not the exact technical
| term for that branch of medi
cine, but Doc Fancher was a
most untechnical man. He
knew his public. At present he
had his feet on the desk, read
ing a copy of the Breeder’s
Gazette; he seemed genuinely
pleased to see Chaffee.
“Doc,” said Chaffee, ‘‘I’m
not coming to see you in your
capacity of public official. I
want to chin with you, friend
to friend. All this is private.
What do you know about this
Clyde fellow?”
"I know he was lyin’ dead
on the second story landing
of the hotel when I found
him,” said Fancher. ‘‘Funny
thing about that. He had two
guns, a .38 and a .44. He was
holdin’ to the .38 as tight as
a vise with his right hand.
The .44 was lyin’ loose, near
his head. Don’t often see a
man packin’ two different
styles of weapons. No shots
fired from the .38, but there
was one empty cartridge in
the .44. I may add, Jim that
Satterlee was killed by a .44
slug.”
“What do you think about
it, Doc?”
Fancher raised his shoul
all. As a private individual a
whole lot. Let it ride like that,
Jim.”
Chaffee reached for his
sack and took out his tar
models, ranging them on the
table. There were four all
told, and Fancher lowered his
booth to look at them with a
professional eye. “I poured
hot tar into a lot of tracks
out beyond the livery stable
the night of the shootin’,”
explained Chaffee. “These
models are a little rough on
the bottom and edges, but
they’ll give a pretty good idea
of somebody’s boots.”
“Jim, you work fast,” ob
served Fancher. “Wait a
minute.” He went back to a
closet and drew therefrom a
pair of high leather shoes. “I
took all of Clyde’s personal
effects out of his room. Lock
lear didn’t want to bother
with that business, but I
figui’ed it might come useful.
Here’s some of the man’s
shoes. Same size and style as
the ones he had on. Now let’s
look.”
Three of the models were
obviously too large; but the
fourth, laid against the shoe’s
bottom was an approximate
fit. “Looks like it might be it
all right,” observed Fancher.
“That’s interestin’,” mused
Chaffee, a light sparkling in
his eyes. “For those tracks
were away off at one corner
of the corral. Nowheres near
the back door. Now, it wasn’t
possible for a man to shoot
Satterlee unless said man
stood inside the place. It was
dark; Satterlee was framed in
the front opening—an easy
target for anybody wuthin
thirty feet. The fellow with
shoes corresponding to this
model never got within two
hundred feet of Satterlee.
Couldn’t hit the old chap with
a .44 at that distance. And he
wasn’t lined up right to even
look through from back door
to front door. He was clear
over in a corner of the corral.”
“What print was nearest the
rear door?” asked Fancher.
(aanNiXNOO aa ox)
-»»
The Counter Cutie.
From the New York Sun.
Just before Christmas a girl, obvi
ously of a social cast, strolled non
chalantly into an Eighth street gift
shop to buy a gift for her boy
friend.
"What have you got for a ravish
inglv handsome young tman?” she
asked the girl behind the counter,
obviously not of a social cast.
"Well,” said the counter cutie lan
guidly and a bit sneeringly, “my
telephone number is Spring 3-3456.”
TIIE handy package.
From Judge.
Bread now comes already sliced.
And as far as some golfers are con
cerned. their balls might as well
come the same way._
Almost Lost It.
From Tit-Bits.
“WTien Bob tried to kiss me un
der the mistletoe I was so astound
ed that I nearly--”
"Nearly what?“
"Nearly stopped him.”_
then usually moves on to another
place. Peculiar^ isn’t It?
extending the service
The department of agriculture’s
extension service distributed aboul
25,000,000 popular publication, over
10^00,000 farmers’ bulletins, and
furnished to newspapers about 3,
000 informative articles on agricul
ture during the last year. This it
in addition to daily radio talks.
Tacoma's muncipally generated
llectric power will reach a total
rapacity of 202,000 horsepower, with
100.000 more to reserve, bv next
DIVERSIFIED PHILOSOPHY.
The Senate spouts, the House
drones on,
While Hoover raves, “Do so!”
Three jokes could hardly help u»
less.
In this, our time of woe.
There is a mountain faith can move,
E'en put it clear to rout;
And that’s the molehill, mountain
grown,
Through silly, foolish doubt.
Of prohibition much is said,
Not all of which is truth;
But sure it is, it’s not yet weaned,
Nor has it cut a tooth.
Replacement tax! When such a
phrase
Befrogs the minds of men,
That we were monkeys once, is sure;
The only questions, "When?”
To gorge a trust with tariff aid.
Shows Congress owns a soul;
To feed a starving child with food,
Is practicing the dole.
The Chinese soon, I hope, will learn
What now their nation queers;
No bandits are respective,
Till known as racketeers.
Sam Pagi
--
Even New York Sees It.
From New York Telegram.
If one-half of the great incomes
of 1928 had been distributed as
wages, instead of being plowed
back into making more things than
the existing wages could buy, we
probably would not have had the
so-called overproduction which
brought on the 1929-1930 collapse.
Large wealth, accumulating as
It does in the hands of the com
paratively few, has to be plowed
back, to find an outlet. Those few
can spend personally, as consum
ers, only a limited part of their to
tal Income,
Accordingly, there is a piling-up
process, with the inevitable top
pling over, which we are now wit
nessing.
If a larger part of the wealth
that gravitated to the few, and by
the few was reinvested in enlarg
ing industry, had been circulated
to the many, consumption then
would have tended to keep pace
with production, since the capacity
of the many to consume, unlike
that of the few, is not limited.
As long as an inordinate portion
of the total wealth continues to
i concentrate in the hands of those
who can’t spend it as consumers,
and can find an outlet only in mul
tiplying production, we will have
overexpansion, followed by col
lapse, followed by painful and slow
convalescence—and then the whole
cycle over again.
To break up that cycle is capital
ism’s big job if capitalism is to
survive.
Not from the humanitarian point
of view only, but from the point
of view of the wealthy as well as
the poor and the moderate, the
way out must be through attaining
a balance by increasing the por
tion of the total wealth that goes
mt? the spending channel of
trages.
----
Business Should Know.
From Detroit News.
‘Something has gone wrong tem*
porarily with our economic and fi
nancial and political machinery, or
with Its engineers, or both, but It
is foolish to think that the whole
plant has been wrecked or perma
nently crippled.” says Albert C.
Ritchie, governor of Maryland, in
the peroration of a remarkable ad
dress delivered a day or two ago.
Something has gone wrong. A
lot of people are arguing as to what
it is. Some say this, some say that;
there is no agreement. The reason
there is no agreement probably is
that many things are wrong and
need correction and as Governor
Ritchie says further, if our economic
system is so scheduled that it is
bound to run off the track at inter
vals, then it is up to those who are
responsible for the system to fix it
so that it will not leave the rails.
Otherwise we are tempted to try
some other system. “Communism?”
some one hints. No, says Mary
| land’s governor; the brains that
have devised our economic system
should be strong enough and able
enough to fix it so that it doesn’t
leave the track.
The remedy, then, in Governor
Ritchie's estimation, is not so much
in the hands of politicians as in
those of merchants, manufacturers
and bankers. They ought to know,
inside out, the system they hava
framed; they ought to know its
weaknesses, and how to remedy
them. “Industry,” says Governor
Ritchie, “should evolve its own forms
of prevention and put the burden
on its own economic surplus.”
Thera is common sense in that
view. Industry should put its own
house in order, and the only help
it should expect from politics is
well-considered legislation framed
to make its remedial program feas
ible under the laws. Business knows
what is the matter, business should
find the remedy.
-M-.
W- wnicn are considered the arts
and which the sciences? W. M.
A. According to Jevons, a science
teaches us to know and an art to
do. Astronomy, for instance, is the
foundation of the art of navigation
—chemistry is the basis of many
useful arts. The arts are distin
guished as fine arts and useful arts,
the former including painting,
sculpturing, music, poetry, archi
tecture; the latter (useful arts) in
cluding the trades. The sciences
have been variously classified. The
principal ones are physics, chemis
try, astronomy, meteorology, math
ematics, geography, geology, eth
nology, anthropology, archaeology,
biology and medicine.
Q. How many miles a day did
Peary cover in his final successful
dash for the Pole? T. T.
A. The entire distance from the
mainland to the Pole was 475 sta
tute miles and was covered at the
average rate of 13 Va miles a day
Coming back, due to favorable
weather conditions, an average rate
was maintained of 29.5 miles a
day.
-44
Real Anxious.
From Pathfinder.
Lawyer: And just how bad do
you want this divorce, Mose?
Mose: It only cost me a string ob
fish to git married, suh, but, please
Gawd, Ah'd give a whale to git rid
of her.
-44
Q. Where is Mary, Queen of
Scots, buried? E. W. C.
A. The body ot Mary, Queen of
Scots, five months after her death
was buried at Peterboro. In 1612 it
was removed to King Henry VII’s
chapel in Westminster Abbey.- The
body still lies there in a sumptuous
tomb Urartu K» her son.
Strongest
'Gerald suffered with his stomach
%nd bowels until lie was listless and
.veak,” says Sirs. B. E. Geren, 822
\V. Main St., Oklahoma City, Okla.
‘‘Now lie’s the strongest hoy I
know. I gave him California Fig
Syrup because Mother used it. It
increased his appetite, regulated his
jowels, helped his digestion.”
Nothing could be more convincing
than the way thousands of mothers
are praising California Fig Syrup to
show how it acts to build-up and
strengthen headachy, bilious, lmlf
sick, constipated children.
Your doctor will approve the use of
tliis pure vegetable product as often
as impure breath, coated tongue,
listlessness or feverishness warn of
constipation—«or to keep bowels
open in colds or children’s diseases.
The word California on bottle and
carton marks the genuine.
LAXATIVE-TONIC for CHILDREN
Locked Themselves In
Tom Higgins of Morrill, Maine, lost
four sheep. For three days he hunt
ed for them everywhere. At last hi
looked into an old tunible-dowr
house and in a little pantry he found
his four sheep. They had closed th«
door and kicked a table against it
They were all in good condition aftei
a fast of three days, hut were quit#
willing to gel out.
STOP THAT COUGH !
Webster City,
Iowa—“A f t e r
having ‘flu’ I
could not eat and
had a very bad
cough. I began
taking Dr.Pierce’s
Golden Medical
Discovery and
started to improve
vyhile taking the
first bottle. I also
iuuk. iwu viaia ui i-^r. incites jrieasani
I’cllets and some of Dr. Pierce’s Cough
Syrup. Then I could eat and sleep and
felt line. I never felt better than I do
jince taking Dr. Pierce’s medicines. I
always recommend them to anyone suf
fering as I did.”—Mrs.Chas. Lacy, Sr.,
'.36 Apple Ave. Druggists.
User* of Dr. Pierce’* medicine* are en
titled to free medical advice Write Dr.
Pierce’* Clinic In Buffalo, N. V., enclosing
♦ rapper from any of Dr. Pierce’s remedies
snu receive professionaPadvlco free.
Lovey
She—I’ve just read that a man out
n the West exchanged his wife for a
icrse. You wouldn’t exchange me for
* horse, would you, dear?
He—Of course not; but I’d hate to
have anyone tempt me with a darn of
good car.—Passing Show.
OLDER PEOPLE
Must watch bowels
Constantly!
As we grow older the bowels be
come more sluggish. They don’t get
rid of all tlie waste. Some days
they do not move at ail. So older
people need to watch their bowels
constantly. Only by doing this can
they hope to avoid the many forms
ef sickness caused by constipation.
When your bowels need help re
member a doctor should know what
f,S best for them, and get a bottle
of Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin
from your drugstore. Syrup Pepsin
is a doctor's prescription for tag
ging botrels, good for all ages.
No restriction of habits or diet
is necessary while taking Sjrup
Pepsin. Slade from fresh, laxative
herbs, pure pepsin and other valu
able ingredients, it is absolutely
safe. It will not grtpo, sicken or
weaken you.
Take a spoonful next time your
tongue is coated, or you have a
bad taste in your mouth. It clears
up a bilious, headachy, dull, weak,
gassy condition every time. When
you see how good it tastes and how
nice it acts, you’ll know why Dr.
Caldwell’s Syrup Pep«vn is the
world’s most popular laxative for
every member of the family.
i D*. W. B. Caldwell's
SYRUP PEPSIN
| A Doctor’s Family Laxative