The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965, October 07, 1937, Image 3

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    CATTLE KINGDOM
i
By ALAN LE MAY
f CHAPTER IX—Continued
f —11—
“Not very much. Aren’t you go
ing to help me find some break
fast?”
“You bet I am.” They went into
the cook shack, and he lighted the
lamp again.
Moving slowly, he quietly shoved
wood into the banked fire, and got
bacon into a skillet. “I’m sure sor
ry I can’t stay while this cooks,” he
•aid. "But I’ve got to make a ride.”
“Maybe I’ll go with you.”
, “I’m afraid,” he said gently, “you
wouldn’t want to do that.”
“You mean you don’t want me.”
“It isn’t that But—”
“If you had any imagination you’d
know I got up at this unearthly hour
because I want to talk to you.”
He waited, disturbed. She stood
close to him, talking almost in whis
pers. He knew he must get going,
but Ire could not bring himself to
move away.
“You see—I heard part of what
you and Uncle John said last night.”
“You heard—what?”
“Uncle John has a voice like old
Rock in full cry,” she explained.
“My room isn’t next to his, but it
isn’t far away. And when he’s an
gry, I’ll bet he can be heard ten
miles back into the Tuscaroras. I
couldn’t help hearing what you said
about Bob Flagg being dead. And
if that’s true—”
Wheeler was startled. “Mari
an—” he looked at her square—
“what else did you hear?”
Her eyes did not waver. “That
was all.”
He thought he detected a faint
wicked gleam in her eyes, but he
kept his face expressionless, and
stood pat.
“We’ve got to find Old Man Cof
fee,” she said.
“Seems like he’s left, Marian.”
“You’ve got to take me to him,”
the girl said. “You can find him—I
f know you can find him.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Can’t you?”
Wheeler hesitated; what Old Man
Coffee had told him had been told
in confidence. Yet, invariably, he
found it almost impossible to speak
untruly to this girl.
His hesitation was fatal. “You
know where he is,” she said sud
denly.
He picked up his bridle. “I’ve
got to get out of here.”
“Billy—you’re riding out to meet
Old Man Coffee!”
. “Tell your uncle I’ll be back to
night,” he said abruptly, and moved
toward the door.
"I’m going with you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but you’re
not. You’re a pest, that’s what
you are! Go on and eat your break
fast.”
Yet he knew that he could not
bluff this girl, nor control anything
that she did; and what was worse,
she knew it too. As he left her she
was writing a note to her uncle,
telling him where she had gone; and
she was with him, mounted on her
own pony, as he left the layout,
i Wheeler pressed his pony along
T steadily, eyes to the front; and he
was combating his keen awareness
that the girl was at his side. He
had loved this gaunt, clear-colored
country of blasting sun and sharp
shadows; differently than he had
loved the girl, but as a man loves
his home. But now he knew he
would need another different coun
try, a new type of grazing land, if
1 he was ever going to forget this
' girl who rode beside him, whom he
could never possess.
They were almost in the shadow
of Lost Whiskey Butte when she
broke the silence between them.
“Billy—I told you something that
wasn’t so.”
He waited.
“It was when we were talking
about Bob Flagg, and how I heard,
what you and Uncle John said about
that. And I said that was all I
heard. Well—that wasn’t all.”
“What else did you hear?”
“I heard—it all.”
Unexpectedly he found it difficult
to tell himself that it didn’t matter.
But now he realized that she was
waiting for him to answer, and he
managed to say, “That’s all right.”
“Isn’t it better,” she said, “that
we both know now how things really
stand—between us, I mean?”
He made himself say, “I guess so
Marian.”
“It is better,” she said, and he
wondered why her voice seemed so
sad. “Because—don’t you see? —
there’s nothing to keep us from be
ing friends now—really friends. And
each of us—all of us—are going to
need what friendliness there is left
in the world, I think.”
CHAPTER X
' As Coffee, with his dogs about
him, rode out to meet Wheeler and
Marian Dunn from Lost Whiskey
Butte, the girl pushed her horse
ahead. She stopped close to the old
•nan, facing him squarely.
“He tried to keep me from com
ing,” she told Coffee, "but there
wasn’t anything he could really do.
Now, if you want me to go back, I
will.”
| Old Man Coffee grinned. He
moved his mule nearer Marian’s
pony, and leaned forward to peer
into her eyes. Then he laid a bony
old hand on her shoulder. “Child,
what happened to you?”
“Nothing.”
“Something did, though," Wheeler
contradicted. He told Coffee of the
shot from the brush.
The old hunter scowled; he looked
as nearly startled as they had ever
seen him look. “This changes the
whole set-up,” he complained. “I
thought I had it licked. I thought
I could pretty near give names and
cases. But—this smears it”
“I don’t follow that,” Marian said.
“Neither do I,” Coffee said, dis
missing discussion. He turned to
Wheeler. “You told her what we
aimed to try?”
“No.”
“Well, you should have. This is
a kind of a sad, dark job we're on
today, girl. We’re going to try to
find the—the man that was killed
at Short Crick.”
“I guessed that,” Marian said.
Old Man Coffee led off to the
northeast, his sleepy-eared mule in
an ambling shuffle, and they rode in
silence for a little way. Coffee sig
naled to them to come abreast.
“Maybe you’ve wondered some,"
he said, “why I’ve been kind of
prowling around of nights, as your
“Marian, This Is as Far as
You Go.”
wagon boss was at pains to make
known. Well, I guess it won’t hurt
nothing to tell how a thing like this
is done. Did you ever listen to
coyote voices, of a night, Marian?”
“I couldn’t very well help it, could
I?"
“There’s a funny thing about
them. More things interest coyotes
than you’d expect. And if some-,
thing kind of strange and interest
ing happens on the range, all of ’em
know it, all over the desert. We'd
learn queer things from ’em if we
could understand their talk a little
better.
“Coyotes won’t touch a dead man;
neither will a loafer wolf. But they’ll
circle around, and kind of wail, and
sing. Once before this I found out
where a corpse was hid by listening
to the coyote voices at night.”
“This time, we got a break.
There’s a loafer wolf on the range.
He’ll only talk about certain things,
and maybe speak only two, three
times a week. So when he lets
out the same kind of queer cry, in
the same place three or four nights
in a row, a man begins to wonder.”
That was a long day, and a
strange day—the strangest in Mar
ian Dunn’s life. Their work carried
them a great distance, much of
which was wasted In quartering,
and the long following of false trails.
Some queer geometry of land
marks was working in Coffee’s
head, but what it was like they could
not guess, and he did not explain.
Repeatedly Old Man Coffee pulled
the dogs off invisible trails which
he declared were those of coyotes. It
was after noon before a new note
came into the howling of the hounds,
signaling the trail of the loafer wolf
“This loafer trail,” said Old Man
Coffee, “is three days old. 1 don't
reckon it'll serve.”
It did not serve, though Coffee lei
it lead them seven miles in no par
ticular direction before he pulled off
the dogs.
The sun had gone down behind
the Tuscaroras, and the long gray
dusk was on the range as they came
on to the broken wilderness of up
thrust red rock that was known as
the Red Sleep. The dogs were voie
ing uncertainty here, obviously run
ning no trail, though Old Man Cof
fee seemed to know where he was
going. And now old Rock made a
curious play. The old dog had been
in a sulk all day long, unwilling to
quarter the trail of the loafer wolf;
but now he sent up a long full
throated cry and drifted swiftly,
nose down, a hundred yards along
the red rock.
Old Man Coffee said under his
breath, “FU be eternally damned 1”
Abruptly the old dog turned to look
at Old Man Coffee, let his tail drop
again, and quit the trail.
“What’s the matter?”
“Everything,” Coffee said. “I
never done so much false figuring in
my life!” He pushed ahead quickly
now, shouting to his hounds, jerking
new life into them with gutteral In
dian words that the others did not
understand.
Now suddenly the big spotted
leader hound sprang ahead, bawl
ing; and in another moment the rest
of the hounds were with him, run
ning full cry, outdistancing the
horses.
“The wolf again," said Coffee, a
new keen edge on his voice. “Chil
dren, we're near the end of the
trail!”
Yet because the trail of the wolf
was indirect and circling, they spent
another hour in following the dogs.
The ponies were scrambling over
broken rock now, keeping up as best
they could. The dusk was very deep
when Old Man Coffee pulled up at
last and sat waiting.
They did not see what had stopped
him at first; but after a few mo
ments they saw that the hounds
had made a circle and were com
ing back. Coffee got down off his
mule, called in his dogs, and tied
up each of them, separately, to rock
or scrub oak. But he had to crack
the long dog whip over them more
than once before they would lie
down, sulking and moaning in their
throats. Old Rock, the only one un
tied, lay down under the feet of the
mule, raised his nose to heaven, and
let out a long deep-chested wail.
Old Man Coffee tightened his sad
die. “Marian,” he said, “this is as
far as you go.” "You stay with
her, Billy. I don’t know how long
this will take.”
He said something unintelligible
to the dogs, and then moved away
from them, the dainty feet of his
mule picking its way, and old Rock
slinking close behind.
They sat there for what seemed
like an endless time. Billy Wheeler
tried to talk to break the sad ter
rible stillness, but this place smoth
ered the words in his throat.
The first stars were showing when
Old Man Coffee came back to them
at last, his black mule moving like
a lean tall shadow among shadows.
He came close to them, then for a
moment sat silent, looking back
over his shoulder the way he had
come; and Wheeler knew that he
was futilely seeking words for what
he had to say.
Long before the old man spoke
they knew he had found what he
had sought.
“It’s Bob Flagg,” Old Man Coffee
said.
Horse Dunn accepted the news
that Flagg was dead more quietly,
more steadily, than Wheeler had ex
pected.
"How was he killed?” Dunn
asked.
“By a shotgun; the same as Cay
use Cayetano.”
“Where’s Coffee?”
Coffee, Wheeler had found, could
not be persuaded to Return with
them to the 94. It was Coffee’s be
lief that Dunn had made a serious
mistake when he had chosen to hold
Magoon’s saddle instead of turning
it in to the sheriff.
“The sheriff will be out here in
the morning, sure,” Wheeler said.
“I think Walt Amos means to be
fair. But there’s better than a hun
dred men in Inspiration, all out of
outfits that hate the 94. Amos is
sitting on a stove, and it’s getting
hotter every minute.”
“Let him come.”
"Any more dope on the Cayetano
killing?”
“I sent Gil Baker to Ace Springs.
But he hasn’t come back.”
“Val Douglas went to Pahranagat,
did he?”
“He left this morning. I suppose
it’ll be late tomorrow night before
he gets back—maybe longer. Steve
and Tulare and me, we spent the
day prospecting around In the Tus
carora foothills, here.”
"And didn’t find anything,”
Wheeler supposed.
"Billy,” said Horse Dunn, "there’s
somebody been slinking around
over there. We found the ashes
of two different fires. And I’m not
a damn bit sure there isn’t some
body prowling around there yet.”
"Now who the devil would that
be?”
“That’s just it—we don’t know
who that would be. I guess—it
doesn't matter, now.”
They had expected Sheriff Walt
Amos to appear in the course of
the night, or nt least no later than
the first light; but it was noon be
fore Amos appeared. He again
came alone, as he had come after
Billy Wheeler.
At the 94 he found only Horse
Dunn and Billy Wheeler, for Steve
Hurley and Tulare Callahan were in
the Tuscaroras in search of the un
known prowler now believed to be
hiding there; Val Douglas and Gil
Baker had not yet returned; and
Marian was out with her pony. Walt
Amos climbed out of his car and
walked slowly to the gallery of the
cook shack, where the 94 people
happened to be. They awaited him
in silence.
“Horse," said Walt Amos, "the
time has come when I can't put off
acting no more.”
“What have you done with Gil
Baker?" Horse Dynn demanded.
“He’s in Inspiration. We had to
take him in.”
“Is he hurt?”
"Not bad. He came prowling
around Ace Springs, where Caye
tano was killed, and one of the depu
ties hollered to him to halt, but he
made a run for it. They had to
throw down on him before he’d give
himself up. Turned out he was
shot in the leg.”
“You’re getting almighty high
handed around here, Amos!”
“Sorry. But I reckon it’s going
to seem still a little more so. Dunn,
I got to take you in.”
“On what charge?”
“Held for questioning; concerning
murder.”
Horse Dunn stood up, his thumbs
hooked in his belt, and his eyes
rolled slowly over the foothills of
the Tuscaroras; it seemed to Wheel
er that he was looking for a sign.
Now Dunn answered him at last,
and Wheeler saw that spmehow, in
the course of the night, the old man
had been able to prepare himself
for this thing. “When you want to
move out?" he asked.
“I’d like to get on back as soon
as you’re ready, Dunn.”
And now out of a trail that wound
through the tall buckbrush back of
the layout a rider came. His horse
was at a quiet running walk, but
the animal shone wet with sweat,
and from under the edges of the
saddle blanket the lather rolled. It
was Tulare Callahan.
He rode directly to the cook
shack gallery and swung down.
“Horse, I’ve seen Lon Magoonl”
he announced.
“Tulare, are you sure?”
“We only sighted him far off on a
high ridge, at better’n a mile. But
Horse, I knew him as sure as I
know my name. His horse looked
.like that good sorrel of ours, we
call Brandy. We signed him to
come and talk, but he sloped. We
took out after him hell for leather—
Steve Hurley’s trying to trail him
yet—but he got loose about four
miles up the Tamale Vine. I knew
you was looking for the sheriff; and
I thought you might want to know
this, if you was still here.”
"Amos,” said Horse Dunn, "I’m
going to have to ask for a little
more time.”
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Coconut Palm of Hawaii Yields Food,
as Well as Drink, Buttons, Ornaments
Hawaii has a native skyscraper
that stands as an excellent example
of a self-sufficient economy, notes
a writer in the Chicago Daily News.
It contains most of the elements—
including food, drink, clothing and
scenery—that minister to man’s
•Tnysical and aesthetic well-being.
The name of the skyscraper is co
■os nucifera. Translated from the
icientific this means a coconut
palm.
While mi st of the complexities of
modern civilization operate in con
nection with Hawaii's up-to-date and
progressive commercial life, the
graceful coconut palm still stands
as an interesting contrast to mod
ernity.
In many cases, where tall palms
line the walks next to the modern
buildings of Honolulu’s business dis
trict, the two types of skyscrapers
stand side by side.
The milk and the meat of the in
ner nut provide food as well as
drink. Hats and other articles of
clothing can be fashioned from the
tree * leaves. These fronds can also
be woven into thatches for shelters.
The outer husk of the coconut and
oils derived from it can be used as
fuel; and the earliest Hawaiian can
dle was made by stringing kukui
nuts on the rib of a coco frond.
After it has surrendered its bev
erage and meat, the coconut shell i
can be highly polished and utilized
for making dishes, bowls and other j
receptacles. Today buttons and
small ornaments are carved from
this material.
Rope woven from coconut fiber
found many uses in the olden days,
when island fishermen madl many
of their nets and lines in this man
ner.
As an important item of island
scenery the graceful, swaying palm
has become’ a regular trade-mark of
Hawaii.
For every nimble-footed Hawaiian
lad the section rings that circle the
palms at regular intervals provide i
an automatic ladder-type elevator
to the top "story” of thes® island
skyscrapers.
Make Your Own Lace Accessories
i -
By CHER1E NICHOLAS
MISS COLLEGE GIRL, Miss
Debutante and matrons young
and not so young who being active
in social affairs need must "dress
up" to occasion, here’s telling you
how to economically acquire that
air of elegance which fashion de
mands for this fall and winter. No
matter how ungenerous your
clothes allowance may happe^ ‘to
be you can have a whole collection
pf lace “pretties” such as the
sketches here show at comparative
l> trifling cost. In fact the idea
that prompts this illustration, to
gether with its story, is to give you
“pointers" on dressing smartly and
handsomely on a limited allowance
A touch of lace will do it! Trans
torm your simplest demure and un
pretentious gown into a costume of
distinction And now that we’ve
told you, the first step ts either to
let your favorite dressmaker tn on
the secret (show her these
sketches) or perhaps you prefer to
thriftily adopt the “make it your
self” course of action. Not that you
have to be an expert with the nee
die, for, provided with carefully se
lected patterns, there ts no reason
why, if you can sew even a little
bit, that you should not successfully
copy these charming fantasies. No
matter how many you make of
these lovely lace items you can’t
ever have too many.
Here’s a word of friendly advice:
don’t stint in getting the best type
laces for the finer and more ex
quisite the lace you use In making
these dainty fashions the more con
clusively will they carry a message
of high-style prestige.
If you are clever and have a
nack of your own a pattern will not
be necessary for the cape for it is
cut along simple circular lines.
However, a pattern similar to the
model shown should be easily avail
able. It has little tailored epaulet
effects on the shoulders and cun
ning wee buttons with tiny thread
crochet loops to fasten it down the
front. You can get It hemstitched
about the edge or finish with roll
hem. As an evening wrap this cape
of black Chantilly may be worn
over the fashionable all-black gown
or over the dress done in lovely
pastels.
Have you heard the news about
the stunning blouse and skirt or
Jacket and skirt formals that de
signers are featuring this season?
They are quite the talk in fashion
realms. The Jacket is supposed to
be of sumptuous fabric or lace in
contrast color to the monotone skirt
Choose black lace if you want it to
'•go with everything,” although
metal lace is wonderfully effective,
or if you cherish a color scheme
why not a lace Jacket In the new
spruce green with a crepe skirt in
darker rich green, or suppose we
say any color Just so the Jacket is
lace? It is no trick at all to get a
simple basque-jacket pattern of the
type pictured and it will be found
easy to make.
The little white cotton lace bolero
is very popular and it can be made
up so inexpensively it is worth while
to keep two or three in waiting for
emergency calls. Wear it over sim
ple afternoon dresses or over a floor
length crepe sheath which trans
forms it into an evening ensemble.
Jeff of London has made an ef
fective accessory ensemble of black
Chantilly lace. (See sketch to right
bottom.) The Jabot with its high
neckline matches a pair of gaunt
lets of the same black Chantilly,
and together they give the essential
feminine look to the most tailored
of suits.
© Western Newspaper Union.
BRIDLE-PATH CHIC
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
i ---
fo dress up to the part she plays
should be the ambition of every true
sportswoman. It may be along
scenic bridle paths that the enthusi
a guides her gallant steed or it
may be in the glare of bright light
and trumpet loud in the fashionable
horse show arena that she will
make her bow In either event her
riding togs must be correct down
to the slightest detail The picture
shows a sartorially perfect outfit
We would especially call your atten
tion to the horse's head carved from
Drown shell catalin that is noncha
iantly pmned ori her coat. During
the summer it became quite a tad
to wear novel carved catalin Ush,
frogs, snails and such either clips
or brooches, n one « bathing suit.
#
SILHOUETTE TRENDS
FOR EVENING DRESS
By CIIERIE NICHOLAS
Outside of that the pencil-slim
Directoire with its high slit skirt
and the revival of the Empress Eu
genia. there is a definite tendency
in many houses to a Spanish type
ol dress. This is usually marked
by flounce ruffles. And one must
not forget the gently widened skirt
as evidenced also in the afternoon
clothes The most startling bit of
material used in this has been the
placing ot various types of lace over
lame to give the firmness and stiff
ness required. One more skirt—
and the silhouette can be settled.
That is the short front. This varies
from the gradation effect to those
cut off clear to the knees in front
to show a filmy petticoat of ruffled
net. A cross between this and the
Directoire are skirts which are cut
away like a man's coat, to the knees
and then come down to the ground
at either side seam.
Daytime Footwear for Fall
Loses Kugged Sporty Look
Most daytime shoes nave lost the
rugged, sporty look that formerly
characterized the appropriate foot
wear for tailored suits. Smart, soft
toed models, many ol them made
with elastic insets and gores, mould
the foot trimly Others, constructed
entirely ot elastic leather, insure a
streamlined silhouette, unmarred by
gapping sides or fastenings that
protrude.
These snug, form-fitting styles are
as easy on the feet as bedroom
slippers, partly Decause ot their
construction and partly because ot
their comfortable walking neight
heels covered with matching ma
terials or built up ot little uncov
ered layers that are nick-proof and
resilient.
Doilies Offer Thrifty
Way to Set Table
A perfectly appointed table Is
the dream of every woman’s
heart. With the simplest of cro
chet you can make this dream
come true. This set of doilies, in
four sizes, does the trick. There
are a 6, 12 and 17-inch size suit
able for luncheon and buffet sets
Pattern 1462
as well as doilies while the larg
est, a 22-inch doily, is just the
thing for in-between cloth on
many a table. Use string or mer
cerized cotton—they’ll stand long
usage and be decorative too. Pat
tern 1462 contains directions for
making the doilies shown; illustra
tions of them and of all stitches
used; material requirements.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
(coins preferred) for this pattern
to The Sewing Circle Needlecraft
Department, 82 Eighth Avenue,
New York, N. Y.
Is It Progress?
“Progress doesn’t always make
us happier. I’d even make bold to
say that pretty often it doesn’t
even improve u?.”—Booth Tark
ington.
What a difference good bowel
habits can make! To keep food
wastes soft and moving, many
doctors recommend Nujol.
INSIST ON GENUINE NUJOL
Covr.1987. SUooo loo.
, YOU CAN THROW CARDS
IN HIS FACE
| OHCE TOO OFTEN
WHEN you have those awful
cramps; when your nerves
are all on edge—don't take it out
on tho man you love.
Your husband can't possibly
know how you feel for the simple
reason that he 1s a man.
A tbreo-quarter wife may be
np wife at ail if she nags her hus
band soven days out of every
month.
For throe generations one woman
has told another how to go "smil
ing tlirough'' with Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound. It
helps Nature tone up the system,
thus lessening tho discomforts from
tho functional disorders which
women must endure In the three
ordeals of life: 1. Turning from
girlhood to womanhood. 2. Pre
paring for motherhood. 3. Ap
proaching "middle age.”
Don't bo a three-quarter wife;
take LYDIA E. PINKIIAM'S
VEGETABLE COMPOUND and
Go "Smiling Through."
WNU—U40—37
Fame to the Few
Fame must necessarily be the
portion of but few.—Robert Hall.
checks
GOLDS
and
FEVER .
LIQUID. TABLETS „ j f}r»‘ *ayt ,
salve, nose drops Headache, 30 minutes.
Try “Rub-My-TIsm”—World’s Best Liniment
THE CHEERFUL CHERU5
■ ——■■■■ ■' ■ m
I love the Dice
round world so much.
It ^ives me trees
•tnd mountains hi$h.
And never stopping j
d-^y or ni$ht
It ttkes me
riding through
the .sky. v
WC*"'!