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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (April 25, 1935)
Harold Titus. W. #4.0 it a v i cm. CHAPTER XII —14— TEAMS drove from the Hoot Owl toward town through the falling snow that evening. First went Ben Elliott, alone and sending his driv ers at a spanking trot, wondering and at odds with himself. Why was Dawn so obdurate In this matter of having him see her? Why that odd repression, as though she struggled to keep from saying the things that were bursting her heart? His Inability to answer those questions drove him into a dogged mood. He felt like blaming Bran don for this, as well as other troubles. A half hour behind him came a team from camp, driven by Bird Eye Blaine. A figure ahead stepped out of the ruts and awaited his approach. “Town?" the man cried. -Tup. . . . Hello, Martin; Whoa ti • • • Blaine lifted the heavy robes for the bookkeeper and then clucked his team on. “Mistber Elliott gone in?” he asked. 'He has, eh? . . . ’Nd MistheT Ited Bnrt Delaney still per secutin’ th’ country with his pres tnce likely. Ah, th’ b'y, th’ b’y!" Ben turned his tenm Into an al ley, hitched nnd blanketed them, and then made his way between buildings to the town’s principal thoroughfare, which was lighted by glaring store fronts. He purchased some articles in a clothing store and did not see Dawn McManus onter, observe him, and then with draw’. When he went out again he did not notice that the girl followed him. From place to place he went, Dawn behind him in the flying snow and when she had been following so for half an hour, her eyes alert for others who might be watching Elliott, another fell into the train ahead of her. She saw this man 6tep from a store entrance and fol low Ben. She hastened to be close and not until she was abreast of him did she recognize John Martin, whom she had seen but once before. He did not turn his head and she dropped back. She had no doubts of his loynlty, from what Ben had told her of his bookkeeper. For the better part of an hour this double stalking continued while the snow fell thicker and then El liott turned into a side street and made the next turn into the alley where he had left his team. Two figures followed him, hasten ing a bit as he disappeared Into the gloom. Martin followed Ben. as Dawn trniled both. And then, as Elliott drew close and spoke gruffly to his horses, an other shadowy figure appeared: it was only a blur In the shadows, crouched and stealthy. The figure swept forward; an arm drew back and upward; it struck and with a muffled grunt Ben Elliott turned, falling sideways and backward un der the impact of a blow. Another voice lifted then In a sharp cry as John Martin ran for ward and the Indistinct figure which was poised over Elliott, about to strike again, turned, hesitated, whirled and fled. “What is it, son?" Martin cried as he dropped to his knees beside Ben. Before a reply could come Dawn was there, moaning his name over and over. “Knife!” Ben gasped. "In the neck , . . here ...” John Martin unbuttoned Elliott’s thick Jacket, ripped open the shirt and his fingers encountered a warm sticky gush as he thrust them across the back. “Knifed you! . . . Ah, son!” Dawn peered close into the bearded man’s face as though fearful of what he might say next. “We’ve got to get him somewhere right away,” Martin muttered. “Got to. . . . It’s bad.” “My house is Just around the cor ner!” she cried. "Bring him there ... Oh, hurry!” ^ Together they lifted Ben to his feet. Ilis teeth ground shut to keep back the moans. He was sick and weak with pain. He sagged against Martin as the man supported him, "Tough, Dawn ... to get you mixed up ... In a mess. . . .” “Hurry!” she said. “He’s so weak!” He was weak, indeed. With their arms about his body for support, they moved through the snow. El k liott felt Dawn close to him and ' closed his eyes almost happily. He struggled to help himself so he would not burden her, but he stumbled and nearly fell and an other gush of blood bathed his body. After ages of effort and pnin a glare seemed to be all about, warm breath fanned his face . . . and Aunt Em, standing in the door s way, was saying sharply: "In here. . . . Your room. Dawn. . . . I’ll phone the doctor.” Emory Sweet worked rapidly, onee there. "Deep!" he muttered. “Dad. what a blow. Missed the jugular by a hair.” The wound was only a slender slit In the sklu. but the blade had been driven deep, indeed, and the blood that flowed from it had drawn the bronze from Elliott's face, the strength from the splendid muscles that lay relaxed now beneath clear skin. "Now!” said the physician when Ben finally lay back on Dawn's pil low. breathing shallowly, eyes closed. ”1 guess he'll be all right In a few days. . . . Rut what an escape!” He shrugged. Sweet looked at John Martin, then. The doctor’s brows drew a hit; he seemed to lean forward and blinked slowly, incredulously. Then Martin moved and the other re laxed. Still, his expression was one of startled speculation. The doctor began gathering his Instruments. Martin stood staring at Ben in deep thought. Then his right hand went to the lobe of his left ear and tugged slowly in that characteristic gesture. He did not observe Emma Coburn standing in the doorway. He did not look at her until the woman gasped. It was a light, light gasp; so light that Emory Sweet did not hear. But Martin heard and turned and stood as though frozen In the posture. Aunt Em’s head was held rigidly back, one hand pressed against a cheek. Quickly, Martin’s finger went against his Ups in a sealing gesture. He held so an instant and then slowly shook his head, a movement of unmistakable warning. Dawn entered the hallway from the living room and these two re laxed from the rigidity of their strange pantomime. “Now, the boy’s going to be all right,” the doctor said. “I’ll look in tomorrow. Quiet is going to be essential for a few days. You two women all right?” A close observer might have no ticed that Aunt Em’s eyes were odd ly averted from John Martin’s searching gaze and that her breath ing was quick. “Why, it might be handy to have a man in the house tonight,” she said, evenly enough. “I’m . . . I'm wondering if Mr. Martin would stay. He could sleep on the couch in the living room.” “I’d be glad to,” the man said and cleared his throat sharply. “There might be something I could do . . . for you.” He had looked at Dawn on this last ar.d it seemed that his voice caught ever so slightly. So It was arranged that he should stay through the night and the doc tor left. Aunt Em carried the light out of the sickroom and placed it on a table in the hall. She bustled here and there, occupied with a variety of minor errands and finally drove Dawm to bed despite the girl’s pro tests of sleeplessness. Alone, she fixed blankets on the living room couch while Martin sat in the darkened bedroom. That done, she beckoned to him from the hallway. They confronted one another there a long moment. The woman’s face worked queerly and she seemed at a loss for words. “What shall I say?” she asked, in a whisper. “Nothing,” the man replied. “There is nothing at all to be said ... is there?" “Oh, you gave me a start!” “You’re the first one. . . . I’m . . . I'm too full of things to talk, now, Emma.” He made an odd gesture toward the wall and looked about. “We’re in the upstairs front room If we’re needed.” she said. “Is . . . there anything yon need yourself?” He did not reply for a moment. Then, heavily: “Yes. . . . Your help, likely. . . . A little later. . . ." The woman did a strange thing, then. She snatched up her apron and pressed It tightly against her eyes. “She didn't remember!” she sobbed. . . . "Oh. what’ll happpn in this house next?” “I wonder," Martin muttered. “Yes , . I wonder!” She left him, and he moved almost hesitatingly Into the living room. He stood a long time Just within the threshold and then went slowly about, from picture to table, from book shelf to mantel, hands In his coat pockets. IWfore this old photo graph he stood for a long Interval; beside that worn rocker he re mained with bowed head, as one might who Is coffering . . or wor f shlplng. When he approached the couch where he was to sleep that night his legs seemed to fall and he half fell, half slumped to his knees. He let his face down to the blankets and his fingers clutched them, gripping, gripping until the kuuckles showed white. . . . And a great, shuddering moan slipped from his deep chest • •••••• Grimly, Bird-Eye Blaine prowled Tincup that night. He had let John Martin out as he drove through the main street; then proceeded to a livery barn where he stabled his team. On the way he had sighted Ben Elliott but later, although he took up a position before the post office and watched passers on either side of the street carefully, he did not see him. He began making In quiries and found that Elliott had been about town but evidently Blaine was always some little time behind him. Falling thus, he went to locate Ben’s team and stood in the swirl ing snow waiting. Stores closed. Bird-Eye chewed and stamped to keep warm and watched nnd lis tened. And after a long hour's vigil proved fruitless he moved aimlessly away, along down the alley. At the rear of Joe Plette’s hotel lie watched movement through a lighted window which gave into a hack entry. A man was there, clos ing an inside stairway door behind him. He turned and buttoned his mackinaw witli hasty movements nnd Blaine drew hack into the shad ows. The man within was Bed Bart Delaney. . . . The door opened; the man stepped out. He crossed between Bird Eye nnd the lights, carrying snow-shoes. Blaine followed as the other went swiftly down the alley and then struck out past the depot toward the tracks. “Well, now!" Bird-Eye muttered to himself. ‘‘Saints . . . Why nil this rush. Pm wonderin'!” A chill which had nothing to do with the temperature of the night struck through him. Bed Bart, flee ing town? Surely, he went ns a frightened man might go. ... Or as one whose errand is completed. Out into the street, then, went the Irishman, nnd Into the pool room. "Has anybody here seen Misther Elliott?* he asked loudly nnd men looked up from their games at the “Knife!” Ben Gasped. query. Yes, this man had, two hours ago; the butcher had talked to him at about eight. . . . None other. To the dance hall, next, and his queries were repeated. Then hastily back to see Ben’s team still standing patiently in the deepening snow, past Dawn McManus’ house to find only a faint light In the hall way, and from there to Able Armi tage’s on a run. Had the Judge seen Ben Elliott? He had not; and excitedly Blaine explained his empty search, the hasty departure of lted Bart, the neglected team. Able dressed and they went out together, searching the town, inquir ing of late passers. “Somethin’s happened!’’ Bird-Eye declared. “Somethin’s went wrong with th’ b’y. Able! We can’t folnd out what nt Is ontil mornin’. Thin, believe me, we’ll have help a-plenty!” “How so?” “Lave ut to me. Able!” Through the night, ten minutes later, a team went swiftly west ward. They left town at a gallop; they breasted high drifts ncross the way In frantic plunges, came to a blowing stop at the Hoot Owl barn. A moment later Tim Jeffers sat up and In sleeplv bewilderment fought off the man who shook him and de manded that he wake up and listen. **••**• The storm subsided before sun rise. It was a vast, rolling country, and ncross It, from Hoot Owl to ward TIncup, went teams. Five of them formed n sort of procession, drawing logging sleighs. Across the bunks planks had been placed and on the planks stood and sat men; they were silent men, who drew on cold pipes, whose faces were set and grim, whose eyes betrayed ex eltement. The Hoot Owl crew, this following Tim Jeffers and Bird Eye Blaine to TIncup to solve n mystery In an orderly manner they left the sleighs and stood In groups while teamsters unhitched and led their horses into a livery harn. Able Armitnge came hurrying and he, alone, was welcome In that phalanx of Intent men. Others of the town saw him gesticulate as he talked with Jeffers and Blaine, saw him shake his head and spread his hands as one will who has no an swer for a pressing question. Old Tim turned to the crews and motioned them to him. The men gathered close and listened while he spoke briefly. Then the com pact huddle broke. JefTers emerged and started for the main street, that body of shanty boys falling In to move shoulder to shoulder behind him. In was a strange spectacle, for that peaceful Sunday morning 1 Doors were opened; men and wom en peered out Then they emerged and stood to watch. Hastily caps and coats were donned and along the sidewalks followed a growing crowd of the curious. The breath vapor of the men rose in a cloud. No one spoke. They swung Into the main street, old Tim wallowing In the long drift at the corner, his men trampling It down behind him. On down past Abie's office, past the pool room and then, without a word or signal they hnlted. . . . The halt was before the hnnk over which Nicholas Bran don had his offices and his living rooms. And then Tiro lifted his clear, strong voice. ‘‘Brandon 1” he shouted. "Nick Brandon !" "Come out, Nick!” a teamster shouted, voice thick with repressed excitement. "Ay, come out!" an other cried. Movement, then, where they had expected movement. Up above n face appeared in a window. Nich olas Brandon looked down upon them. They could see his lips com press ns he discerned that crowd. "Come down. Brandon!" Tills was Tim again, his voice edged with sharpness, as he might speak to a rebellious man of his crew. Brandon moved and threw up the sash. "What do you men want?” he de manded sharply. In the tone of one who has been long uncustomed to make demands. "We want Ben Elliott!’ Jeffers answered. "Elliott? He Isn’t here. What would he he doing here? What could J know of him?” A mumbling, a stirring behind Tim. “We want him. We want you to help us find him!” "You’re d—n right!" . . . "Tell us, you skunk!” . . . “Show him to us or we’ll wreck your whole blame town!” Tim held up a silencing hand against this outbreak. Then he ad dressed Brandon. “Elliott came to town Inst night. He hasn't been seen since, llis team was found where he left it There’s only one man in town who’d have an object In getting him out of the way. We’ve come to that man: to you, Brandon. We want Elliott!" Brandon’s lips writhed. “I tell you, I know nothing—’* He slammed down the sash and cut the rest of his sentence from their hear ing so those men did not know that his voice broke sharply as panic laid its hold on him. H# turned his back deliberately to the window. Then, In a frantic lunge, he reached the telephone and rang the bell. “Give me the Jail!" be said ex citedly. ’’Quick! The jail!” Outside a growing, mounting roar sounded, like the voice of an ap proaching wind. Then came a sharp shout; a loud curse. Then quick silence again as Tim Jeffers reas serted his leadership and demanded that they move only as a unit. But this order prevailed for a brief mo ment. "Smash in the door; It’s locked!" someone cried, '"rake him until he gives Ben Op!" "Good boy!” The ball of Ice, case In the street from some horse’s foot, now picked up and flung stoutly, crashed through an oflice window. Brandon cowered as a yell of ap proval went up, and pressed his face close to the telephone. “Hickens? . . . Art! This Is Brandon 1 There's a mob out here and—” “I’ve seen It!” The sheriff’s voice “I saw ’em come In. I don’t know what—” “Get down here, then, and be quick about it! Get down here and scatter them!” Brandon waited for the ready ac quiescence which always had come from the men he hnd made, from ofiicers of the law and judges and public officials both high nnd low. “Are you there?” he demanded sharply as a shrill yip came from the street. “Yes, Mr. Brandon. I hear you but . . . But what d’you expect me to do against a mob alone? I—’’ “Alone! You’re sheriff, you fool! You’ve the law behind you 1 Bring a gun and hurry!” “But that crowd. Nick! Why, they’re the best men in the north. They'd tear me to ribbons! They’re good men and they’re tnad. You better get out the hack way If you can!" With an oath I’.randon flung the receiver from him ns another win dow pane exploded to fragments. Abandoned to that muttering mob. and by a man whose political ca reer he had shaped with his own hands! From a safe vantage point he looked out. A half dozen men were pulling at a sign post He ran down the hallway and looked out a window In the rear. A grim guard of three men stood there, ready and waiting for him to attempt flight that way. (TO BB CONTINUED.! Dental Hygiene 86 The Road to Health By DR. R. ALLEN GRIFFITH THE SIXTH-YEAR MOLAR THE first permanent teeth to erupt In the mouth are called the "sixth-year molars” because they come In during the sixth year. They also might be called the most important teeth in the mouth. These teeth are of the utmost im portance, as they present a large masticating surface, and if perma nently lost, always cause a collapse of the dental arch and frequently cause the face to be contracted. To the orthodontist (a dentist who straightens teeth) they are the key to the arch. By looking at their occlusion he is able to determine If the Jaws are in their proper rela tion to each other. The premature loss of these teeth is r calamity to any Individual ami they should be watched with Jeal ous care. They come in during the most Irresponsible period of child hood. and no child of that age can be expected to pay any attention to the care of these Important teeth without the watchful guidance of the parent. If you care for the preservation of your child’s health, there is every reason In the world why the baby teeth should receive as much care and attention to the permanent teeth. There Is no possible excuse, no reason under the sun why either the baby teeth or the sixth year molars should he neglected. The baby teeth are easily forgotten by the child where they are so healthy and clean that they nre lost in the natural way. If properly cared for they are lost as nature In tended. They are not so easily for gotten by tin* child when they nre allowed to become a Jagged, broken, decayed and abscessed lot and are lost through pain and sleeplessness. The uncleanllness of the baby teeth is surely transferred to the sixth-year molars, and the memory of pain endured and the physical scars will he carried through life. A child whose teeth are allowed to go to wreck and ruin through Ig norance or neglect on the pnrt of parents, who nre responsible for both his mental and physical wel fare, has every right to hold them responsible for his suffering. The baby teeth should remain as white and sound ns little pearls. It Is absolutely criminal for parents to neglect these. * m v OVR DUTY HEN nil Is said and done, health la the greatest asset that a human being can possess. There are many other things that are conducive to happiness, hut they sink Into second place when we think of a diseased or crippled body. Most any physician who was on the draft board during the World war, will tell you of the large num ber of young men who were physi cally unfit to be classed as A-1 men, and they will also tell you that most of these physical defects could have been prevented or eradicated In youth. These are the school chil dren of today. Our schools are wasting enormous sums In educating, or trying to edu cate, the children who are handi capped by 111 health, when the ex penditure of much smaller amounts in a Judicious health program would produce an enormous saving in econ omy and efficiency. A dollar spent promptly In a timely, constructive effort to conserve a child's health will be more fruitful for the child and for human society than will a thousand dollars applied twenty years later. Better than 90 per cent—24,000, 000—of our school children have de fective teeth, and all defective teeth are Injurious to health. Some of these defective teeth ore deadly menaces to their owners. Seventy-five percent—17,000,000— of the school children of the United States have physical defects which are potentially or actually detri mental to health. One of the most appalling revela tions of recent years Is the con clusion based on unrefuted evl dence that tin* rural school children of the country arc handicapped by more physical defects than pupils In city schools. While several sig nificant causes seem to he respon sible for this condition, the pres ent inferiority of country children depends In part upon the fact that city children receive more health care Minn those in rural regions. Where an intensive study of mouth conditions has been carried out. It has been proved that dental attention alone will cnre at lenst ,r>0 per cent of thp other troubles. Most of the original heart troubles, glandular diseases, malnutrition nnd tuberculosis are caused by defective teeth. It lias been said that If nil the dentists In the United States were sent to New York, they could not adequately care for the persons with defective teeth In that city. While all these facts are well known, doesn’t It seem as If a lit tle money should be spent upon the physical as well as the mental welfare of the children In our schools? Western Newapaoer Union, “QUOTES” COMMENTS ON CURRENT TOPICS BY NATIONAL CHARACTERS USE OF GAS IN WAR By CAPTAIN G. J. FISHER Chemical Warfare Service. THE next war is not much more likely to be fought on a chemical basis than the last. We don't expect the number of deaths from chemicals to he mate rially greater thnn In the last war. The military effort required to fly chemicals against cities is such that It Is doubtful whether military commanders would feel Justified In directing men and materials to thut purpose. The progress made in developing gases since the World war has not been as great as the general public has been led to fear. Those who point out that one ton of mustard gas Is capable of killing 80,000.000 people run dead up against the fact that in the World war a ton of this gas actually killed but three per sons. CUBAN DIFFICULTIES By SUMNER WELLES Assistant Secretary of State. I''HE solution of their politi cal difficulties lies now solely in Cuban hands. We have abrogated the Platt amendment. We have renounced the rights of In tervention which we had previously secured, and we have made it em phatically clear that this govern ment would Interfere neither direct ly nor Indirectly In the Internal concerns of the Cuban people. When any people has suffered economic prostration coincident with u political dictatorship, and the dictatorship Is overthrown by popular uprising, it Is almost Inev itable that for a period of time that country will pass through vary ing stages of political unrest. PENDING RAIL LAWS By W. W. ATTERBUHY President Pennsylvania Railroad. I)ROPOSED legislation, if I enacted, would place an in supportable burden upon the railroads without advantages to the employees. Any treatment of their problems which omitted considera tion of the overhanging threat to the Integrity of the Industry, would be tantamount to the destruction of efforts looking toward recovery In the field of railroad transportation. Such legislation would mean ulti mately less employment In the rail road Industry rather than an In crease In employment, as contend ed by the sponsors of this legisla tion. ONLY PASSING PHASE By ANDREW W. MELLON Pittsburgh Banker. EVEN at 80, one does not ac i quire the gift of prophecy, but I look forward to seeing the return to normal conditions again within my own time. America is going through a bad quarter of an hour, but present con ditions, however distressing, espe cially in terms of human suffering, reflect only n passing phase In our history. New generations are coming on and new Inventions and the ad vance in human intelligence will solve many problems that now seein Insurmountable. OUR TAX BURDEN By MARK GRAVES New York Commissioner of Taxa tion and Finance. IN 1929 the national income was $90,000,000,000, while last year it had fallen to about $45,000,000,IKK). The tax burden in each year was approximately $10, 000.000,000. I believe It should be obvious that we are suffering today because nearly one-quarters of our income is taken for taxes of one kind or another, direct or Indirect, whereas the share was only about one ninth of our income at the be ginning of the depression. ARMS FOR PEACE By ADOLPH HITLER German Chancellor. FOR in this hour the German government renews before the German people, before the. entire world, its assurance of Us de termination never to proceed beyond the safeguarding of German honor and freedom of the reieh, and es pecially does it not intend in re arming Germany to create any in strument for warlike attack, but, to the contrary, exclusively for defense and thereby for the maintenance of peace. PERMANENCE FOR CCC By PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT IT IS my earnest hope that the work carried on by the Civilian Conservation corps will flnd a permanent place in our gov ernment. Only in that way can the nation, through future generations, enjoy the full benefit of what already has been accomplished and the full measure of all that ultimately will be achieved. VVNU Service Dress and Jacket for the Summer PATTERN 9903 There will be a notable repre sentation of straight, loose Jackets, according to latest fashion reports. Here’s one added to a short sleeved frock of the type you can enjoy all summer, thus creating an ensemble of comfort for all degrees of tem perature and all occasions, from street to afternoon. In the detail sketch you will note the draped front girdle which slenderizes and flat ters, as do the flared revers. The Jacket may be made bolero length If you prefer. A triple sheer material or a heavy rough crepe, the bodice 9963 and revers in contrasting color, would be attractive. Pattern 9903 may be ordered only In sizes 1(1. 18, 20, 34, 38, 38. 40, 42, 14 and 40. Size 30 requires 4 yarda 39 Inch fabric and 1 yard contrast ing. SEND FIFTEEN CENTS in coins or stamps (coins preferred) for this pattern. lie sure to write plainly your NAME, ADDRESS, STYLE NUMBER and SIZE. Complete, diagrammed sew chart Included. Send your order to Sewing Circle Pattern Department, 232 West Eight eenth Street, New York. ON THE JOB Citizen—The legislature makes too many laws—useless laws. Legislator (eagerly making a mem orandum)—I will put through a law ngainst that, but of course, It will be quite useless. In Reverse Lawyer (to feminine witness) — IIow old are you? Witness—I’m just turned twenty four. Lawyer—Ab, I see—that means you are forty-two. Doesn’t Matter Anyway Teacher—Your sou is very back ward in geography. Father—That does not matter. We have no money for traveling. Shurrup! He—And who was the silly chump who said you couldn’t drive? She—The coroner.—Answers Mag azine. Who, When and Why "Do you know Percy Smith?" “Yes! What do they call him?" “Who?"—London Dispatch. 4
