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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 21, 1935)
b' SYNOPSIS Ben Elliott—from "Yonder”— makes his entry into the lumbering town of Tlncup, bringing along an old man, Don Stuart, who had been eager to reach Tincup. Elliott de feats Bull Duval, "king of the river,” and town bully, in a log-birllng con test. Nicholas Brandon, the town's leading citizen, resents Stuart’s pres ence, trying to force him to leave town and Elliott, resenting the act, knocks him down. Elliott is arrest ed, but finds a friend in Judge Able Armitage. The judge hires him to run the one lumber camp, the Hoot Owl, that Brandon has not been able to grab. This belongs to Dawn Mc Manus, daughter of Brandon's old partner, who has disappeared with a murder charge hanging over his head. Brandon sends his bully, Du val, to beat up Ben. CHAPTER III—Continued —5— Bird-Eye fell back, clinging to the poker, his lips moving. It was Elli ott's fight, indeed. He had seen many men fight before, had Bird ie Blaine; born to a rough life, he had lived it fully. He had seen countless battles but never had he witnessed such a fury as Ben Elli ott loosed then. He drove out with both fists, heedless of defense, blind to Du val’s counter offensive. He shouted as he struck. He used a knee to break another hold, he bit when Duval tried to throttle him with the grip of both hands. He danced as the Bull sought to trample his feet with his river calks, and all the time he was striking. Again and again his hard knuckles found their mark. A bench went over as they waltzed Into it Their combined weight, crashing against the bunks as Du val tried desperately to clinch again, smashed an upright and sent men In the upper deck scurrying. Dust rose thickly. The sink was ripped from its place as Ben drove the Bull into it with a body blow, and a chair was wrecked ns Duval, caught by another punch, went over It backward with a crash. Ben stood still, spread legged, breathing hard, hnnds swinging in a swift rhythm of rage. "Get up!” he panted. “Get up! I’ve only started!” Duval rolled over, his back to El liott, and shoved himself to his feet. Not until he had risen and faced about did the other move. Then he closed with another of those Hying rushes, with one drive pinned Duval against the wall, with another sent his head crashing against the window frame. The Bull gave a bubbling roar and tried to grapple. His hands were struck down. He swung mightily, slowly, and missed, and as he went by, off balance, a chop ping stroke on the back of the head floored him. Again Elliott waited. “Get up 1" he cried thickly. “Get op, Duval, and take the rest!” The other started to move, look ing over his shoulder with one eye that remained open. He saw a tall, supple young man, hair awry, shirt ripped open from neck to belt, cheek bleeding, jaws set, stand there swinging one fist as though the knuckles were wild to strike again. He sank back to the floor, shudder ing. On that Elliott relaxed and moved dose. “Enough?" he asked, sharply, prodding the Bull with a toe of his pac. Duval moaned and shook his head. He made as if to rise again and Ben stepped back, giving him every chance. The Bull did not get to his feet. He started to, drew one knee be neath him, heaved and then sa< k back to a hip. He swore heavily and hung his head, propping his torso by both great hands spread wide on the floor. “Through, Duval?’’ Ben asked and It seemed as though his bruised and battered face tried to twist In a grin. The other gave no Intimation of having heard. "There’s more on tap. Or have you got enough?” And then, when no reply came Elliott stooped, grasped the Bull’s shirt In his hands and half lifted him. “Let go!” the mnn blurted. “Let go or I’ll—” He tried to twist away, tried to strike Ben's legs, but his strength was gone, beaten from Ids great body. He was dragged across the floor, river boots trailing over the boards, straight to the doorway. With one foot Elliott kicked open the portal and with a heave flung Duval, the Tineup terror. Into the trampled snow outside. A half hour later Bull Duval, who had washed his bleeding head and face In the horse trough against the shouted protests of Bird Eye Blaine that It would be unfit thereafter for his teams to drink from, shoved himself erect and wiped trembling hands on his mackinaw. The door of the van opened and Elliott emerged. He walked straight to the bully and examined his vis ible Injuries critically. “Fair Job,” he said, as though to himself, and grinned. "A fair Joh, Duval. But remember this: if you ever set one of your feet In this camp again, or on any operation where I'm In charge. I’ll give you a licking you’ll remember! Now, Du val, why’d you come out here this morning? Who sent you?” Duval looked away. “Nobody,” he said weakly. "1 got drunk. But ... but if you’re need in’ a man, I can work for a better man than I am.” Ben shook his head. "No use, chum. You’re going to tell me why you came and who sent you. Was It Brandon?” “No”—evnslvely. “Sure? How much did he give you to come here? Or are you on the payroll to do such chores?” “H—1, he didn’t—” "You’re a worse liar than you are a fighter by a mile or two, Duval. Mine was a good guess, wnsn’t It? What were his orders?” “Well, he said If I didn’t that he’d—’’ “Good! That’s all I want to know. There’s the road. And you can take this little message with you to Brandon: Tell him that he needs to send more and better men here the next time. And as for you: I hire no men who can be hired to fight another man’s battles. Make tracks, Duval!” • • • • • • • It was a week later. Old Don Stuart, propped on pil lows In the narrow, cell-like room of Joe Plette’s hotel, listened to the colorful account that Bird-Eye Blaine, with many gestures and con “Get . . . Paper." slderable profanity, rendered for him of what had transpired at Hoot Owl since Ben Elliott had taken charge of the operation. “. . . ’nd so he’s got th’ mill crew a-wurrkin’ their blessid heads off for him ’nd 's got thut ragged-pants gang av beet-weeders ’nd hay pitchers thut passes fer a loggin’ crew doin’ more’n they’ve evlr done In their lazy loives before!” “Good,” gasped Stuart feebly aud tried to smile. “Good boy. But . . . he’s young and . . . alone against Brandon. It’ll be . . . that hard nut he . . . was lookin’ for.” “Harrd?” Bird-Eye glared at him. “Harrd! Th’ harrder they come, th’ better pleased he Is! Sure 'nd he's a glutten fer work, Donny! ’Nd th’ saints, they have a finger Into ut, too, him a-comln’ Just whin they'd got pore owld Able licked. It’ll be a tough foight cr I’m a bad guesser, but d—n me eyes, whut a folghter th’ lad is!” A restless light appeared In Don's eyes and his thin old hands fidgeted nervously with the blankets. “A tough fight. . . . Oh, he don’t know . '. . Bird-Eye, what lie’s up against.” He struggled to sit erect and his eyes shone brightly with an odd sort of desperation. “If Bran don can’t . . . drive him cut . . . one way or another . . . he’ll kill him.” He gasped and swallowed, evident ly making a great effort to talk rapidly. "I’m a coward, Bird-Eye. . . . Been a d—n coward ... for years. I’ve been . . . afraid to tell . . . while 1 lived. Now . , . I’m afraid to die wdth it ... on my soul!" He panted and Blaine looked In alarm at his friend as these last words took on significance for him. “Lay back, Donny. Dawn’t git yerseif excited, b’y. . . . Coward? Naw, ye're no coward J” He grasped the sick man by the shoulders and tried gently to force him back on the pillows but the old fellow resisted. "Can’t die. . . . Can’t . . . with it on . . . my soul I” be gasped and lifted a face stamped with strange appeal to the llttl“ man. Bird-Kye stood back, solemn and worried, scratching his head. The other made a feeble gesture with one hand. "A man's got ... to fight lire with . . . fire. Brandon'll get him . . . unless he . . . unless . . ." He put a hand to his throat and moved his uplifted chin from side to side as though strangling. “Want to write ... a letter, Bird-Kye. Get . . . paper. Fight . . . tire with fire!" This was obviously no whim of a sick man. His necessity was not clear to Blaine but the other knew old Don was grlpiied by a burning conviction. He hurried down the stairs, se cured writing materials and, from the table In the little ollice picked up a mail-order-house catalogue. With these he ascended to the sick room again, taking the steps two at a time. “Here ye are! Book to wroite on, paper, envllope, pencil. . . . I’ll sit by ye, Donny." Stuart did not start to write at once. He sat staring straight before him In quundary, and then lifted his gaze to the little man who stood at his bedside. ‘‘I'd like to be . . . alone, Bird Eye,” he said in a faint whisper. “I’ve been alone . . . with It so long ... I think better alone." The other shrugged. “Ave course, Donny,” he ac quiesced. "Ave course. Oi'll come back when ye're finished." He went downstairs, rubbers thumping on the trends, but he stood at the bottom a long Interval, shaking his head in misgiving and muttering to himself. Then he turned about and crept back as softly ns a cat. On the upper land ing he seated himself leaning against the thin partition of matched boards which separated him from the sick man. A half hour, perhaps, Bird-Eye sat there growing cramped and chilly in the drnughty hallway. Then he leaped to his feet with h little cry. From within had come a long, retching gasp, a sharp creak of bed springs, a thud on the floor. Blaine burst into the room. The catalogue was beside the bed. Old Don lay half doubled forward, face in the blankets, one limp hand swaying slightly as it dangled over the edge. "Donny! Donny, b’y, what’s up?" He raised the limp figure, laid it back, stared hard at the face w’hich now seemed so peaceful and then ran excitedly down the stairway in frenzied search of Joe Piette. In the room was confusion after Doctor Sweet nuswered the hasty summons. The doctor felt vainly for a pulse, touched the shrunken breast of the old cruiser and then turned away with a significant shake of his head. The usual things were said and then Bird-Eye and the physician were alone in the room. The little Irishman’s eyes brimmed with tears but behind these was nn Intent look as of one who impatiently awaits opportunity to pursue a specific purpose, and when the others trooped down the stairway he closed the door and returned hastily to the bedside. "Sure 'nd where is ut?” he asked beneath his breath, riffling the leaves of the bulky catalogue, shak ing folds out of the rumpled blan kets. “What are you after, Bird-Eye?” the doctor asked. "Ah! Here ut be!” On his hands and knees, peering beneath the bed, he uttered that ejaculation and, reaching far un der, rose to his knees with a sealed envelope In his hands. Across the face was a scrawl, written with an indelible pencil. Blaine scowled as he tried to make out the words, got to his feet, and moved across the room to hold the envelope closer to the light. Doc tor Sweet bent over It beside him. "Ben Elliott." the latter read aloud. "Open this when the nut gets too hard to crack.” The doctor scratched his mus tache. He turned his face to meet Bird-Eye’s startled gaze. “It’s somethin’. Doctor, thut he didn't dare die with on his soul! Somethin’ he was fearful to tell If he lived, as well. . . Somethin’ . . His hand holding the letter trembled shnrply. “Brandon tor sure!’’ Bird-Eye whispered hoarsely. “ ’Twas Bran don kept Donny out av Tincup fer years, wa’n’t it? ’Twas Brandon tuk him when he was hittin’ th’ booze years back ’nd made a slave av him, he did! It’s Brandon who’s be’n cornin’ here Ivery night, not loike you or I’d come, but loike a masther d come to watch a slave ... a slave he was a-seared to have around. . . . “Why was a rich man loike Nl(»k Brandon afraid av ’n owld hum like Donny?’’ he demanded, shaking the letter almost accusingly close In the other’s face. "Who was't with Fax son when he died? Who was 't put Faxson’s murder on McManus?” He gesticulated gravely toward the bed. "Him. . . . Him, Nick Bran don’s slave, who wance was a man, who wint to hell with booze, who’s truckled to Brandon evlr since un til his pore owld heart broke!” “By George, Bird-Eye, It does look as though it might—” The doc tor did not finish what he had start ed to say. Inrtead he remarked In tently: "I’d give a good deal to know Just what’s In that letter!” ‘‘Qi'U he takln' It myself to Ren Elliott this night. Aw, nd won't Mlsther Brandon squirm whin th’ b’y starts In crackin’ th' tough nut I ’Nd It’s th’ Justice av the’ saints, no less, that Brandon brings Elliott to Abie’s attintlon In a folght over owld I Hinny.” They went down the stairway to gether after closing the door softly behind them, Bird-Eye muttering Imprecations on the head of Nich olas Rrundon. And even as Doctor Sweet emerged from the dark mouth of the narrow stairway, the front door opened and Brandon himself e» tered the hotel, stamping new snow from Ids feet. Others were there, Plette, the drummer, the mill hands; two or three more. But Brandon’s attention centered only on the physician. “Well, Doctor?" he began, and It seemed as though his lungs were too filled with air to speak comfort ably. “How’s our patient this eve ning?" Emory Sweet looked grimly into the other’s face. "Old Don has taken the long trail," he said. “Dead? . . . Dead!’’ Brandon’s voice on the query pinched up a bit. And on the repetition of the word It fell hollowly, with a final ity which might have Indicated sor row, dismay or amazement. But none of these three were re flected in his fnce. In his dark eyes was Just one expression: Relief. Relief! Relief from suspense, from worry; relief from dark and haunt ing fear! "You don’t say! So the old fel low’s gonel’’ His voice was even now, colorless, assured, ns was nor mal. “Well, it was to be expect ed, I suppose. Were you with him. Doctor?” "No; he died alone." Brandon drew in a breath as one will who has asked an Important question and received a pleasing or reassuring answer. “Talking couldn't hnve helped a man In his condition. He ... He didn't visit with anyone did he?" A queer hesitancy crept into his manner on this as though he shrank from knowing the reply and Doc tor Sweet turned to Rlrd-Eye Blaine inquiringly. But Rlrd-Eye did not look at the doctor. He was staring at Brandon and as thnt individual's gaze, following the doctor’s, en countered his, the Irishman’s lips twitched into a bitter smile. “So you’re after wonderin' whut pore owld Donny said on his death bed, are ye?” he demanded, and with thnt challenge stepped down from the stairway nnd crossed the floor slowly toward Brandon. “So ye're worryln’, now, over whut he moight ’ve said, eh?” “Worrying?’ Brandon countered steadily. "You’re either drunk or crazy, Blaine!" . “Mebhy!”—with a sharp noj. “Mebbe both. Rut old Donny wn’n't. ... He didn't do talkin’, Misther Brandon. Rid yer moind av that worry. Sure, ’nd he didn’t talk to a soul av what was on his moind whin he knowed he lay dyin’. ... No talk! No talk fer somebody to rs pate ’nd git twisted up ’nd lave out things thut shuld ’ve be’n told. ... He wrote ut! That’s whut he done, Brandon !"—voice mounting. “He wrote ut! ’Nd he wrote ut fer one who’ll make ut so hot that ye’ll wish ye was sizzlin’ in hell I” With fl sweeping gesture he thrust the envelope close to Brandon’s face, so close thnt the man jerked his head backward sharply. "He wrote ut!" Bird-Eye cried triumphantly. ‘”Nd may th’ saints speed th’ day whin Misther Elliott puts to use th’ thing owld Donny had to tell 1” urimiy ne poised an instant De fore the larger man. Then he thrust the letter Into his shirt pocket, but toned his Jacket tightly across it. slapped his chest decisively, almost boastfully, and without another word strode to the door and let him self out into the street. It was late when Bird-Eye stepped Into the darkness of the tiny oltice where Beri Elliott slept at Hoot Owl, struck a match, lifted It high above his head and spoke: ‘Till Misther Elliott!” Ben roused himself and squinted at the flick ering match. "Get up! Rouse up! 1 got big news for ye!” They lighted a lantern, and by its glow Ben read the Inscription on the letter which Don Stunrt had left him as Bird Eye hastily and ex citedly explained ‘‘There’s somethin’ In ut Donny’d carried secrut ter long!” he whis pered hoarsely. ‘‘Ut’s to do with Brandon, with fightln’ fire with Are. or I’m th’ worst guesser In th’ woods!’’ “Poor old beggar” Ben said gen tly. “Tough to die that way. And I never got In to see him again!" Bird-Eye nodded. “Yes. But mebby he’s done ye as great a favor as anny man evir done! The’s some thin’ in ut about Sam Pax son 'nd McManus. I’d bet me last shirt!” BeD shrugged and turned the en velope over. Then he rose, yawned and slipped it Into the drawer of the plain table that did service for an office desk. "Ain’t ye gotn' to read ut, even?” Bird-Eye demanded In extreme amazement. (TO BE CONTINUED ) Strongest Will Rule Seemingly, the only law possible between nations is the rui* at Hi* stronger. Tulip Has Won Popular Favor By GRANDMOTHER CLARK The tulip adapts Itself so well to applique and quilting designs that it Is made use of quite frequently. This combination, showing the en tire potted plant, gained popularity Immediately after it was released. Tulips in bloom always form a beau tiful color scheme, and this tulip pot is also hrlllia't In prints and greeui applique. These stamped blocks are 18 Inches, and twelve are required for a quilt about 70 by 97 Inches, If yon use a nine Inch border and four Inch strips between blocks. Strips and border widths can he chnnged to make a quilt any size. Send 15c to our quilt department for one of these stamped blocks. No. OOF. and the stamped applique pieces ready to ’ be cut out. Work this up nml see what a beautiful quilt can he made of this design. A set of six blocks will be sent for 75c, postpaid. ADDRESS, HOME CRAFT CO., DEPT. D., Nineteenth and St. Louis Avenue, St. Louts. Inclose a stamped addressed en velope for reply when writing for any Information. STATISTICS SHOW USE OF TOBACCO ON THE INCREASE Are we a tobacco-smoking nation? Let’s look at the record. Using the late war as a favorite starting point for all comparisons nowadays, we find that In prewar 1910 we smoked 8.000. 000.000 clgnrs and 25.000,000,000 cigarettes. In 1930 we smoked 6,000, 000,000 cigars and 120,000,000,000 cigarettes. In 14 years we had lost some of our liking for cigars, but had acquired nearly five times onr previous taste for cigarettes. Examining the record more closely, we find thnt the war Itself, blamed for many things, was plainly respon sible for doubling our consumption of clgnrettes in three years—from 25.000. 000.000 in 1916 to 53.000,000,000 in 1919. From 1922 to 1930 die con sumption of cigarettes In the United States again more than doubled— 55.000. 000.000 annually grew to bo 120.000. 000.000. The woman smoker had come into her own. Three subsequent years of depres sion have been felt by cigarette mak ers, production falling to 103,000,(XX), OtX) in 1032. The use of cigars dropped to about 5,0(X),000,(XXt. We have considerably less than 100,000,000 persons In t lie United States of smoking age; but If we tnke that number for convenience we find u per capita consumption Inst year of 50 cigars and 1,000 cigarettes. We also used up three pounds of chewing or pipe tobacco per capita. Are we a tobacco-consuming na tion? Fifty cigars, 1,000 cigarettes, and three pounds of tobacco for each and every one of ns, is the answer. For every person we does not smoke, someone else consumes twice the average quantity.—Howard Flornnce in Reviews of Review, and World's Work. Dr. Pierce’s Pellets are best for liver, bowels and stomach. One little Pellet for * laxative--three for a cathartic.—Adv. Love Imperative It is a mere miserable solitude to want true friends, without which the world is but a wilderness. . . . Little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth; for u crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal where there is no love.— Francis Hacon. HUGE TELESCOPE ADDS TO RANGE OF MAN’S VISION _ I One can Imagine the shades of Galileo, Kepler and Newton watch ing with amazed Interest all that happened the other dn.v in the glass works at Corning, N. Y. Sir Isaac Newton, in particular, would have followed the process with thrilled wonder. It was lie who more than 2">0 years ago Invented the reflecting telescope and made for It a mirror of polished metnl that measured six Inches In diameter. At Corning ‘JO tons of molten glass were ladled from the vast belly of a fiery furnace to he molded Into a mirror ‘J00 inches In diameter. It will he the second of that huge size, and both will go to serve a tele scope. greatest of its kind, on a plateau of i’alouinr mountain, 4ft miles north of San Diego. The range of human vision will be extended four times over what Is made pos sible by any existing Instrument. It will reach suburbs of space 400.000, 000 light years away. Objects on the moon no bigger than a city sky scraper will become visible, and the mysteries of the geometrical tracings on -Mars may bo solved. And what, asks the hard-headed reader, will be Hie practical value of It all? The practical value. In the hard-headed sense has never heen considered. Hut whether or no there comes from It nnylhlng that we could class in the entegory of utility, man will he less a stranger in Ids universe. That Justifies the adven ture. Meanwhile back of the telescope conceived at Mount Wilson ohserv tory lies the Carnegie Institute, and back of the Carnegie Institute the millions of a money-making Scot, who wrested Ids wealth from the competitive conflict of steel mills. Thus the saga sweeps from the smelter to the stars.—Chicago News. Will Come to Light As the man who commits some evil deed has to fear that, notwithstand ing all precautions, it will one day come to light, so too he must expect, who has done some good thing In secret, that it also. In spite of him self, will appear In the day.—Goethe. — CHEAP LIQUID HYDROGEN A low-temperature laboratory has been devised in California, it Is an nounced. Five quarts of liquid hy drogen will be made lu an hour nt a cost of S2 a quart. A CHILD'S LAXATIVE SHOULD BE UOUID (Ask any doctor) For vour own comfort, and for your children’s safety and future welfare, you should read this: The bowels cannot be helped tc regularity by any laxative that can’t be regulated as to dose. That is why doctors use liquid laxatives. A liquid laxative can always be taken in the right amount. You can gradually reduce the dose. Reduced dosage is the secret of real and safe relief from constipation. The right liquid laxative dose gives the right amount of help. When repeated, instead of more each time, you take less. Until bowels are mov ing regularly and thoroughly without any help at all. The liquid laxative generally used is Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin. It contains senna and cascara, natural laxatives that form no habit — even in children Its action is gentle, but sure. It will clear up a condition of biliousness or sluggishness without upset. Every druggist has it. JJSYRUP PEPSIN Self-Punishment To be angry is to punish my sell for another’s fault.—Goethe. Now Relieve Your Cold “Quick as You Caught It” | Take 2 BAYER Aspirin Tablets. Make sure you get the BAYER Tablets you ask tor. .'T~- !" - - ™■» 1 \ l . !■ ll«l ■ ———M 2 Drink a full glass of water. Repeat • treatment in 2 hours. I 3 If throat Is sore, crush and stir 3 • BAYER Aspirin Tablets in a third of a glass of water. Gargle twice. This eases throat soreness almost instantly. 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