Nebraska Newspapers

    bValan lemay
W. N.U. Release
INSTALLMENT 8
THE STORY SO FAR:
Dusty King and Lew Gordon had built
up a vast string of ranches which
stretched from Texas to Montana. King
was killed by his powerful and unscrupu
lous competitor. Ben Thorpe. Bill Rop
er. King's adopted son. undertook to
• •
break Thorpe's power. His first step was
to start a cattle war In Texas. He made
this decision against the opposition of
Lew Gordon and the tearful pleading of
his sweetheart, Jody Gordon. The raids
upon Thorpe's herds were successful at
• •
first, but resistance was soon put up
which caused Roper's men to leave him.
one by one. Cleve Tanner, manager of
Thorpe's Texas holdings, appeared not
to feel the losses Inflicted upon him.
Roper’s resources were dwindling low.
i •
CHAPTER X—Continued
Dry Camp Pierce still loafed at
the Pot Hook, dejected, hopeless. No
one knew what he was waiting for.
Roper never heard from the rest of
them now. In spite of everything
that Maxim could do, the Rangers
were on the loose. The wild bunch
that had threatened to dominate
Texas was broken and split, scat
tered far and wide, every man for
himself. Day and night, a saddle
pony waited beside the door of the
bunkhouse in which Roper slept . . .
Now, unexpectedly, came Sho
shone Wilce.
Nothing could tell more of Roper’s
present position than this:—as Sho
shone Wilce rode up. Bill Roper al
ready had his gun in his hand, and
the other hand upon the bridle rein
of his pony.
Shoshone Wilae almost tumbled
into Bill Roper’s arms. He grabbed
Rill by both lapels of the black,
town-going coat that Roper always
wore when he was about to travel
a long way. Shoshone’s bottle-nose
gleamed and quivered, and his eyes
were like shoe buttons.
“It’s done! He’s bust—he’s split
—he’s cracked—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Cleve Tanner! I tell you, he's
gone to hell!”
Suddenly Bill Roper turned into
the unaccountable kid that his years
justified. Like a man suddenly com
ing alive, he took Shoshone by the
throat, shook him as if he had
weighed no more than a cat. His
teeth showed bare and set.
He said, “Shoshone—you fool with
me—”
Shoshone cried out through the
grip on his throat, “I tell you, Cleve
Tanner—”
He couldn’t say any more.
Bill Roper was cool again, now.
“What makes you think so?”
“He failed his delivery at the Red.
Where he was supposed to bring up
fifteen thousand head, a little hand
ful of punchers showed up with a
few hundred. He can’t round his
cattle—if he’s got any cattle—and he
can’t make delivery at the Red!”
“We didn’t believe you,” Shoshone
Wilce babbled on. “We all said it
couldn’t be done. But by gosh
we've done it! All over Texas, Tan
ner’s notes are being called, as the
word spreads. Wells Fargo refuses
to honor his signature for a dime.
They say now that Ben Thorpe won’t
back Tanner—Thorpe denies him,
and the Tanner holdings are being
closed up and sold out—”
“You sure?” Roper asked, looking
up from the ground again.
“Am I sure? You think I’d risk
my damn throat coming here to
tell you something like this, if I
didn’t know for sure?”
"No,” Roper admitted, “I guess
not.”
“It’s all over,” Shoshone tried to
tell him. “Can’t you realize it,
man?”
“No,” Roper said.
CHAPTER XI
Strolling, easy-going, but somehow
reluctant, Bill Roper walked the
streets of Tascosa, between the
false-fronted wooden buildings that
lined the hoof-stirred dust.
Sooner or later, he knew, Cleve
Tanner would appear upon this one
main street. Everybody knew that
Tanner was on the warpath, deter
mined to seek out Bill Roper. It
was said that Tanner’s only remain
ing interest was to bring down the
youngster who had cut Texas from
under him.
Yet ten days passed before Cleve
Tanner came.
It was eleven o’clock on a sunny
Saturday morning when Dry Camp
Pierce brought Bill the word.
“Well, kid, he’s here. You were
right again—you won’t have to hunt
him out. He's looking for you; all
you have to do is wait.”
“Where is he now?”
“In some bar, a block up the
street. He’s walking from bar to
bar, asking if you’ve been seen. You
might’! well wait for him here.”
“No,” Roper said. “I’ll walk out
and meet him, I think.”
Dry Camp peered up into his face.
“Kid, you look sick!”
“I don’t feel real happy,” Roper
admitted.
“Draw deliberate and slow,”
Pierce counselled. “Take your ,
time,—don’t hurry, whatever you |
do. But don’t waste any time, ei
ther. Fast and smooth—”
“I get you,” Roper said with a
flicker of a grin. “Take my time,
but be quick about it. Move plenty
slow, but fast as hell. All right,
Dry Camp!”
He gave the butt of his gun a
hitch to make sure it was loose in
its leather; then he spun the whiskey
away from him untasted, and walked
out.
Dry Camp Pierce looked at the
full glass, and exchanged a worried
glance with the bartender. Then he
followed Bill.
Dry Camp kept blinking his eyes
in the bright light, as if they were
dry; and there were white patches
at the comers of his mouth.
"Don’t give him too much of a
break, kid. He’s awful bad. But
you’ll get him, all right,” he added
hastily.
Half a block ahead another man
stepped into the street, and walked
toward Bill. Before his face could
be seen in the black shadow un
der his hat, Bill Roper knew by
the set of the broad shoulders, by
the rolling swing of his stride, that
it was Cleve.
The moments during which the
two men walked toward each other
drew out interminably. Their eyes
were upon each other’s faces now;
Bill could see that Cleve Tanner
looked happy, almost gay, as if this
was the first good thing that had
happened to him for a long time.
At twelve paces Cleve Tanner
drew; to observers the men seemed
so close together that it was im
possible that either of them should
live. Tanner’s gun spoke five times,
fast, faster than most men could
slip the hammer. Nobody knew
where the first four shots went; but
the fifth shot was easy to place, for
BUI Roper holstered his own
smoking forty-four.
it blew a hole in the street as Tan
ner’s gun stubbed into the dust.
Bill Roper holstered his own
smoking forty-four. He had fired
twice.
Dry Camp Pierce was at his el
bow again. “Here’s the horses. It’s
time to ride. By God, I knew you
could take him, kid.”
Roper was feeling deathly sick.
_
CHAPTER XII
It was well into the summer as
BiU Roper once more rode south out
of OgaUala toward the pile of stones
that marked the grave of Dusty
King. Jody Gordon rode with him.
In the few days he had stopped over
in Ogallala he had hardly seen her
at aU. At first she had refused to
ride with him today; but at the last
moment, as if on an impulse, she
had changed her mind.
Roper, studying her sidelong,
thought that Jody seemed to have
aged several years in one. Impossi
ble now to find any trace of the ir
repressible, up-welling laughter that
had been so characteristic of her a
year before. Her eyes were unlight
ed, and a little tired-looking; her
mouth was expressionless except for
a faint droop at the corners, which
suggested—perhaps resignation, per
haps a hidden bitterness.
She didn’t have much to say; but
finally she asked him, "What did
my father decide?”
“He says now that I’ll never have
another penny out of Dusty King’s
share until—until he’s able to dic
tate to me what I’m going to do
with it; or, that’s what it amounts
to.”
“Did you quarrel with my fa
ther?”
“No. He said some kind of bitter
things, but I didn't say anything.
I asked for certain things—five
camps in Montana, mainly. Of
course, that was a waste of breath.”
“But you’ll go on, and throw your
self against Walk Lasham in Mon
tana?”
“Yes; I have to go on.”
They were silent after that; and
presently they sat, almost stirrup to
stirrup, but somehow infinitely far
apart, looking down at the stacked
boulders from which rose the wood
en cross that Bill Roper had made,
nearly a year and a half ago.
For a little while he stood looking
at the cross which he had made of
railroad ties. He said, half aloud—
“One down. Dusty ...”
“I suppose,” Jody said, “you’ll be
cutting a notch on the handle of
your gun, now.”
l«*r j&¥> ' • T ■■T ' 5* *W4
He was surprised to hear her say
that. He had no way of knowing
how much she had heard, or what
she had heard, about his shoot-out
with Cleve Tanner.
“A notch? I hadn't thought any
thing about it.”
All her bitter contempt of the lone
ly-riding men of violence came into
her voice. “Isn’t that what the gun
men and the cow thieves always
do?”
He was motionless a long time.
Then he drew the skinning knife
that always swung at the back of
his belt in a worn sheath. Its blade
was lean and hollowed, worn al
most out of existence by a thousand
honings. He stood looking at the
knife; he tossed it in the air, and
caught it by the handle again.
“I wouldn’t go cutting marks on
the handle of a gun,” he said at
last. His voice was thick. “Nobody
cares what anybody does to the han
dle of a gun.”
Roper stepped forward, and with
the keen blade cut a notch clean
and deep in the left arm of Dusty’s
cross.
When he looked at Jody she was
staring at him strangely, almost as
if she were afraid.
All through the a'termon Jody
Gordon had ridden the barren trails
above Ogallala, on a pony that for
ever tried to turn home. Thaw was
on the prairie again, and the South
Platte was brimming with melted
snow; in the air was something of
the damp, clean smell which had
marked another spring, in this same
place. But it was now more than
six months since Jody had seen Bill
Roper; and she found it no help that
she was forever hearing his name.
It was with reluctance that she at
last rode up the rise upon which it
stood, unlighted, in the dusk.
She unsaddled her own pony, boot
ed it into the muddy corral, and
threw the forty pound kak onto the
saddle-pole with the easy, one-hand
ed swing of the western rider. As
she turned toward the house she was
trying not to cry.
Then, as she walked through the
stable, a figure rose up from the
shadows beside the door and barred
her way.
Jody Gordon’s breath caught in
her throat. She said, evenly, “Look
ing for someone. Bud?”
The spare-framed visitor took off
his hat and held it uneasily in his
two hands. “Well, I tell you. Miss
Gordon—could I speak to you for
just a minute? I’ll tell you the fact
of the matter. I’m a Bill Roper
man.”
Jody Gordon’s heart jumped like
a struck pony. “Billy sent you to
me?”
“I haven’t seen Bill Roper. But—
I’ve seen Ben Thorpe. Miss Gor
don, tell me one thing: Is your fa
ther backing Bill Roper? I mean, is
he backing this plowing into Ben
Thorpe?”
“My father,” Jody Gordon said,
“has quit Bill Roper in every way
he possibly could.”
“That’s what I thought,” Shoshone
Wilce said. “Only trouble is, people
that don’t know the difference, they
don’t none of them believe that any
more.”
Jody Gordon interrupted him
sharply. "What’s happened?”
“Miss Gordon, your father is in a
terrible bad fix. I’m afeard—I’m
afeard he's going to die before this
thing is through.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most people think Lew Gordon is
backing Bill Roper — maybe you
know that? Well, now there’s a feller
rode to Ben Thorpe from Miles City
—a feller that was a foreman with
Thorpe’s Montana outfits under
Walk Lasham. Maybe this feller
had some kind of fight with Lash
am—I don’t know nothing about
that. But this feller swears to
Thorpe that Lasham is letting the
Montana herds drain away to the
Indians, and to the construction
camps, and Ben Thorpe never see
ing a penny of the money from beef
or hide.”
“Is Bill Roper gutting the Thorpe
outfits in Montana?”
"Don’t know, myself. They say
he’s swarming all over Montana,
with a bunch of kid renegades be
hind him, riding like crazy men,
and raiding night after night. Some
say nobody knows how hard Lash
am is hurt, Lasham least of any;
and some say Lasham has sold out
to Bill Roper, or your father—or
both.”
“What does Thorpe himself
think?”
“Thorpe thinks your father has
bought Walk Lasham. Just the same
as he thought your father bought
Cleve Tanner in Texas, until Bill
Roper gunned Cleve down. And
Thorpe is fit to be tied. A man like
him — he’s terrible dangerous al
ways, Miss Gordon; but now he’s
ten times more dangerous than he
ever was in his life."
“You mean you think Ben Thorpe
will—will—"
“Miss Gordon, I know. Ben
Thorpe is going to kill Lew Gordon,
just as sure as—”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Enchanting Party Frocks of
All-White for Evening Wear
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
DO YOU believe in the magic of
fairy wands? Unless it be at
the touch of a fairy wand how could
such visions of loveliness as the trio
pictured ever come into being?
It is just such lacy, beguiling
sheer arjd lovely gowns as these
that women who yearn for pretty
clothes envision in their dreams of
"what to wear,” when they go
dancing on a gay summer night.
So be as sentimental, as blithely
romantic as you will in choosing
your midsummer night festive
gowns, keeping in mind that fashion
particularly favors exquisitely frag
ile sheer media this season, with
the emphasis definitely on all white
for evening wear.
The all-white lace dress as pic
tured to the left is making its ap
pearance again and again on best
dressed women who are attending
fashionable night clubs or formal
events at important summer resort
hotels. It adds to the lure of this
lace that it is American made. It
is as exquisite and beautiful as it
is surprisingly inexpensive. Crisp,
white and delicate, the new laces
make you look your prettiest with
their lure and charm. The dress
has its own rayon taffeta slip.
The South American influence is
very prominent in the white cotton
lace evening gown shown centered
in the group. The four flounces on
the skirt are reminiscent of the
Spanish dancer's costume. The
deep capelike collar opens at the
back. With the return of the "gra
cious lady” period, the call for
handsome lace such as fashions this
distinguished frock is outstanding.
Nothing in the way of sheer cottons
surpasses organdy and when it is
elaborately eyeleted as is the or
gandy used for the “picture” gown
on the fair socialite portrayed here,
the effect is most eye-appealing.
The introduction of black jersey In
the bodice is in keeping with the
present trend. This touch of black
gives a sophisticated look to an
otherwise airy, fairy ingenue frock.
The wing-sleeved bolero and the
very full over-skirt effect are high
style details.
Thia matter of sheer airy-fairy
fabrics for the party dress carries
all the way through the program of
the "pretty” frocks fashion so defi
nitely favored this season. Often
yards and yards of billowy tulles or
stiffened chiffon or thinnest of mar
quisette go to make up the full skirt
with its quaint little fitted bodice.
A new vogue this season is that
of enormous florals handpainted on
either most diaphanous filmy white
sheers or these flower paintings are
done on white jersey likewise white
sharkskin in dazzling color glory.
Most of the new white dresses of
rayon jersey (with a dull finish) or
rayon crepe are made very simply.
They are, however, given a look of
distinction and importance by in
triguing touches such as gold kid
trimmings, gold or jeweled buttons,
girdles with an enrichment of jewel
embroidery.
Watch buttons! They promise to
be as important as Jewelry in the
evening mode, and are used con
spicuously so as to call attention to
their intricate design. Huge flower
buttons add infinite charm to the
otherwise all-white frock. Immense
mother-of-pearl buttons are fashion
highlights. Some of the pearl but
tons are made up with a filigree
design worked out in gold or silver.
You can get buttons that snap on
and off and thus change the entire
aspect and color scheme at will.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Vacation Outfit
You can bank on this simple rayon
sheer striped dress no matter where
you vacation, for simplicity is
America’s fashion this summer
from coast to coast. Broadening
horizontal shoulder stripes, with
whittling vertical stripes prove the
stripe is quicker than the eye when
it comes to actually whittling down
the figure. This optical-illusion out
fit comes in brown and blue, navy
and white, also gray and white. A
flaring brimmed hat and gauntlet
gloves complete this outfit.
Chic Fur Capes on
Fashion’s Calendar
Keep on the lookout for fur capes.
They’re on their way! They are
available in any length from shoul
der to waist depth and longer. If
you have a coat that has served its
time go to your favorite furrier with
out delay and have him transform
it into a latest-model cape. If you
are buying out-and-out new furs,
before you invest take a look at the
stunning cape fashions that definite
ly will carry the "new” look from
now on. T*ise are the final word
in chic.
Linen Dresses and Suits
Season s Smart Styles
Women of assured fashion in
tuition regard suits in black or
brown, navy, or dark green linen
as the best-looking costume of the
season for town wear. These are
meticulously tailored and are given
charm and femininity via lovely
white lingerie accents.
One-piece dresses of non-wrinkle
linen are very popular this sum
mer. They are made with all the
fine dressmaker details such as en
hance chic models in crepe or thin
wool. There are such highlight
touches as braid trims, odd huge
buttons and so on. The dress that
looks like a suit, also princess types,
are popular in linen.
Print Lingerie
Enthusiasm for lingerie and
negligee apparel that is fashioned
of either cotton or silk prints that
are patterned with luscious looking
strawberries is running high. You
will love the new rose-motif prints,
too.
By VIRGINIA VALE
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
WHEN it was decided that
the new Garbo picture
would get under way on Fri
day the thirteenth, the assist
ant director called the cast
together to see if anybody’s
superstitions would get in the
way. Melvyn Douglas said that Fri
day was a lucky day for him, and
Greta Garbo
the fact that it was
the thirteenth would
make it so much the
better. Ruth Gor
don, who gave up a
number of summer
stock engagements
to take this one in
pictures, declared
that she deliberate
ly walks under lad
ders, and loves
black cats. Roland
Young said that
he'd bring along
one of his china penguins, to break
the evil spell of the jinx. As for
Miss Garho, she said nothing—just
showed up on time.
-*
Janet Blair used to be the fea
tured vocalist with the late Hal
Kemp’s orchestra; now she has a
Columbia contract and one of the
top feminine roles in ’"Three Girls
About Town." She’ll play the young
er sister of Joan Blondell.
—m—
David Niven not only went back
to England to serve his country, but
ne 8 been made a
major. Bing Crosby
had a letter from
him in which he
mentioned the pro
motion. He heads a
squadron of defense
troops which is sta
tioned on the Eng
lish coast opposite
France. In his let
ter he said that no
less than 20 invad
ing Nazi bombing
planes had been
David Niven
knocked down above his sector the
previous night.
-Hi
The March of Time’s newest re
lease, “New England's Eight Mil
lion Yankees,” shows how the six
northeastern states are making
themselves invasion-proof. It is the
first of a series of regional films,
and will be followed by releases on
the Midwest, Texas, and other sec
tions of the country.
- ■ Hi
Penny Singleton, who’s been
“Blondie” on the screen and on the
air for so long. Is bard at work now
In her first film musical. It’s called
“Cowboy Joe” temporarily, and
Glenn Ford plays opposite her.
She'd made a name for herself as a
singer and dancer on the Broadway
stage before she went to Hollywood,
and her nine “Blondie” comedies
have made one for her In Hollywood.
-Hi
The office of Heinrich Himmler,
chief of Nazi SS men, is as authen
tic a reproduction in Warner Bros.'
“Underground” as following actual
photographs could make it Himm
ler does not permit photos of his of
fice to be released; however, Kurt
Schmidt, technical adviser on “Un
derground,” made some when he
was in favor with the SS head, and
smuggled them out of the country
when he escaped two years ago.
The film shows Himmler’s dreaded
office for the first time.
2.1'
Bob Hope, who soared to film pop
ularity with the song “Thanks for
the Memory,” will have another op
portunity to warble an outstanding
number, when he sin^s “You Can’t
Brush Me Off” in ’ Louisiana Pur
chase,” which Paramount will pro
duce. Lately he’s been content
merely to be one of the funniest men
on the screen. His “Caught in the
Draft” is hilarious, though the script
writers dug up some of the oldest
jokes in existence for it. Eddie
Bracken hangs up a few laurels for
himself in this one too.
With the exception of a few minor
weekly cast additions, all the regu
lar roles on the new “Hap Hazard’’
radio series, the summer replace
ment for “Fibber McGee and Mol
ly,” have been assigned. It stars
Ransom Sherman, and features the
singing of Edna O’Dell and Billy
Mills’ orchestra. Nowadays people
in radio have begun to take these
summer replacement shows seri
ously. The "Blondie” program start
ed as one three years ago—now it
tops all CBS half-hour shows in pop
ularity, according to the latest
Crosley report.
-*
ODDS AND ENDS—Ona Munson
wound up work in “Wild Geese Call
ing” at 20th Century-Fox, got a vaca
tion from radio when Edward G. Rob
inson’s "Big Town" show left the air
for the summer, and headed for Santa
Barbara and a rest . . . Ruth Hussey
and Robert Young will be teamed in
"Married Bachelors," a comedy of a
young married couple who are always
just two jumps ahead of the sheriff . . .
jane Wyatt has the feminine lead oppo
site Dennis O’Keefe in RKO’s "Weels
1 End for Three” . . . Myrna Loy and
William Powell will be at it again be
fore long, in “The Shadow of the Thin
Man.”
_ .a». .
Mistakes to Be Avoided
In Summer Care of Dogs
UROG days” are coming, but
they needn’t bother your
dog. With simple, right summer
care he’ll be healthy and cool.
Do not clip him, for he sheds
his undercoat, leaving his outer
coat to protect him against the
hot sun, flies and mosquitoes.
Comb and brush him regularly—
but do not give him too many
baths, as this removes the oil he
needs to keep his coat healthy.
• • •
Our 32-page booklet gives the simple all
year-round care that keeps a dog healthy.
Tells how to choose your pet, feed, house
break and groom him: how to train him
to do clever tricks. Advises on dog sick
nesses: has information on rabies. For
your copy send order to:
READER-HOME SERVICE
•33 Sixth Avenue New York City
Enclose 10 cents in coin for your
copy of HOW TO CHOOSE AND
CARE FOR YOUR DOG.
Name ...
Address .
Unknown King
At 5 p. m. on May 14, 1912, a
man, walking alone in a park in
Hamburg, suddenly dropped dead,
says Collier’s. Unrecognized and
with nothing to give a clue to his
identity, the body was taken to the
public morgue and not identified
for 12 hours. He was King Fred
erick VIII of Denmark, who had
reigned over his country, only 100
miles away, since 1906.
U
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