s
I
MNflnFdD
THREECBii
DY KATE AND VIRGIL D.
CCOYQIGH r BY A CWCLUfTG UCO. 907
CHAPTER I.
The Island With a Mystery.
He said positively to Dattle Ax, his
craggy buckskin cow pony, that they
(would ride to the summit of this one
tluff, and that it should be the last.
But he had said the same thing many
times since striking the barren hill re
gion flanking both sides of the river.
Hump after hump had been surmount
ed since the sound of the first prom
ise had tickled the ears of the tired
broncho, humps as alike ad the two
humps of a Bactrian camel, the monot
onous continuity of which might very
i-well have confused the mind of one
less at home on these ranges than
George Williston. Even he, riding a
lind trail since sun-up, sitting his
saddle with a heavy indifference born
of heat and fatigue, began to think it
might be that they were describing a
circle and the sun was playing them
strange tricks. Still, he urged his pony
to one more effort; Just so much
farther and they would retrace their
steps, giving up for this day at least
the locating of a small bunch of cat
tle, branded a lazy S, missing these
three days.
Had not untoward circumstances
Intervened, he might still have gone
blindly on; for, laying aside the gam
bling fever that was on him, he could
ill afford to lose the ten or twelve
steers somewhere wandering the wide
range or huddled into some safe place,
there to abide the time when a daring
rustler might conveniently play at
.witchcraft with the brand or other
wise dispose of them with profit to
himself and with credit to his craft.
Moreover, what might possibly never
have been missed from the vast herds
of Langford, his neighbor of the plains
country, was of most serious import
to Willistort.
"Devil take you, Battle Ax, but
you're slow," muttered Williston. "I'd
give a good deal to sit down this min
ute to some of my little girl's flap
jacks and coffee. But nothing for us
lazy-bones, till midnight or morning,
more likely. Do walk up as if you had
some little standing In the world of
cow ponies. You haven't, of a surety,
but you might make an effort. All
things are possible to him who tries,
you know, which is a tremendous lie,
of course. But perhaps it doesn't ap
ply to poor devils like us who are
"has beens.' Here we are. Ah!"
There were no more hills. Almost
directly at his feet was one of those
precipitous cut-aways that character
ize the border bluffs of the Missouri
river. A few more steps, in the dark,
and horse and rider would have plung
ed over a sheer wall of nearly 200
feet. As it was, Williston gave a gasp
of involuntary horror which almost
simultaneously gave place to one of
ponder and astonishment. He had
struck the river at a point absolutely
new to him. It was the time of low
"water, and the river, in most of its
phases muddy and sullen-looking,
gleamed silver and gold with the glit
ter of the setting sun, making a royal
highway to the dwelling-plr ce of
Fhoebus. A little to the north of this
Fparkling highroad lay what would
have been an island in high water,
thickly wooded with willows and cot
tonwoods. Now a long stretch of sand
reached between bluff and Island.
Dismounting, with the quick thought
that yonder island might hold the se
cret of. his lost cattle, he crept as
close to the edge as he dared. The
cut was sheer and tawny, entirely de
void of shrubbery by means of which
one might hazard a descent. The sand
bed began Immediately at the foot of
the yellow wall. Even though one
managed to gain the bottom, one
would hardly dare risk the deceitful
sands, ever shifting, fair and treach
erous. Baffled, he was on the point of
remounting to retrace his steps when
he dropped his foot from the stirrup
amazed. Was the day of miracles not
yet passed?
It was the sun, or course. Twelve
hours of sun in the eyes could play
stranr tricks and might even cause
a danci. s black speck to assume the
semblance of a man on horseback,
picking his way easily, though may
hap a bit warily, across the waste of
sand. He seemed to have sprung from
the very bowels of the bluff. Whence
else? Many a rod beyond and above
the ghostly figure frowned the tawny,
wicked cutaway. Path for neither
horse nor man appeared so far as eye
could reach. It must be the sun. But
It was not the sun.
Motionless, intent, a figure cast in
bronze as the sun went down, the lean
ranchman gazed steadfastly down
upon the minature man and horse
creeping along so far below. Not oin
til the object of his fixed gaze had
been swallowed by the trees and un
derbrush did his muscles relax. This
man had ridden as if unafraid.
"What man has done, man can do,"
ran swiftly through Williston's brain,
and with no idea of abandoning his
search until he had probed the mys
tery, he mounted and rode northward,
closely examining the edge of the
precipice as he went along for any
evidence of a possible descent. Pres
ently he came upon a cross ravine, de
void of shrubbery, too steep for a
horse, but presenting possibilities for ,
a man. With unerring instinct he fol
lowed the cross-cut westward. Soon
a scattering of scrub oaks began to
appear, and sumach already streaked
with crimson. A little farther and the
trees began to show spiral wreaths of
woodbine and wild grape. Yet a little
farther, and doubtless there would be
outlet for horse as Well as man.
But Williston was growing Impa
tient. Besides, the thought came to
him that he had best not risk his
buckskin to the unknown dangers of
an untried trail. What If he should go
lame? Accordingly he was left behind
In a slight depression where he
would be pretty well hidden, and Wil
liston scrambled down the steep in
cline alone. When foothold or hand
hold was lacking, he simply let him
self go and slid, grasping the first root
or branch that presented itself in his
dare-devil course.
Arrived at the bottom, he found his
clothes torn and his hands bleeding;
but that was nothing. With grim de
termination he made his way through
the ravine and struck across the sand
trail with a sure realization of his
danger, but without the least abate
ment of his resolution. The sand was
firm under his feet. The water had
Turned and Faced Squarely the Spot
Which Held the Watching Man.
receded a sufficient length of time be
fore to make the thought of quick
sands an idle fear. No puff of cloudy
smoke leaped from a rifle barrel. If,
as he more than half suspected, the
island was a rendezvous for cattle
thieves, a place surely admirably fit
ted by nature for such unlawful oper
ations, the rustlers were either over
confident of the inaccessibility of their
retreat and kept no lookout, or they
were insolently indifferent to expos
ure. The former premise was the
more likely. A light breeze, born of
the afterglow, came scurrying down
the river bed. Here and there, where
the sand was finest and driest, it rose
in little whirlwinds. No sound broke
the stillness of the summer evening.
What was that? Coyotes barking
over yonder across the river? That
alien sound! A man's laugh, a curse, a
heart-breaking bellow of pain. Willis
ton parted ever so slightly the thick
foliage of underbrush that separated
him from the all to familiar sounds
and peered within.
In the midst of a small clearing
man-made, for several stumps were
scattered here and there two men
were engaged in unroping and releas
ing a red steer, similar in all essential
respects to a bunch of three or four
huddled together a little to one side.
They were all choice, well-fed animals,
but there were thousands of just such
beasts herding on the free ranges.
He owned red steers like those, but
was there a man In the cattle country
who did not? They were impossible
of identification without the aid of
their brand, and it happened that
they were so bunched as to completely
baffle Williston in his eager efforts
to decipher the stamp that would dis
close their ownership. That they were
the illegitimate prey of cattle rust
lers, he never for one moment doubt
ed. The situation was conclusive. A
bed of glowing embers constantly re
plenished and kept at white heat
served to lighten up the weird scene
growing dusky under the surrounding
cottonwoods.
Williston thought he recognized in
one of the men the one who seemed
to be directing the procedure of this
little affair, whose wide and dirty hat
rim was so tantalizingly drawn over
his eyes the solitary rider whose un
expected appearance had so startled
him a short time before. Both he and
his companion were dressed after the
rough, nondescript manner of cattle
men, both were gay, laughing and
talkative, and seemingly as oblivious
to possible danger as if engaged in the
most innocent and legitimate business.
A little to the left and standing
alone was an odd creature of most
striking appearance a large, spotted
steer with long, peculiar-looking horns.
It was quite impossible to mistake such
a possession if it had once been yours.
Its right sid? was turned full toward
WiUifton and In the center of the hip
stucd out distinctly the cleanly cau
terized three perpendicular lines that
were the identifying mark of the
Three Bars ranch, one of those same
big, opulent, self-centered outfits whose
astonishingly multiplying sign was be
coming hucIi a veritable and prophetic
writing on the wall for Williston and
his kind.
Who, then, had dared to drive before
him an animal so branded? The bold
ness of the transgression and the inso
lent indifference to the enormity of at
tendant consequences held him for the
moment breathless. His attention was
once more called to the movements
of the men. The steers with which
they had been working was led away
still moaning with surprise and pain,
and another brought forward from
the reserve bunch. The branded hip,
if it was a brand, was turned away
from Williston. The bewildered ani
mal was cleverly roped and thrown to
the ground. The man who was plain
ly directing the affair, he of the droop
ing hat and lazy shoulders, stepped to
the fire. Williston held his breath
with the Intensity of his interest. The
man stooped and took an iron from
the fire. It was the endgate rod of a
wagon and it was red-hot. In the act
of straightening himself from his
stooping position, the glowing iron
stick in his right hand, he flung from
his head with an easy swing the flop
ping hat that interfered with the nicety
of sight requisite in the work he was
about to do, and faced squarely that
quiet, innocent looking spot which
held the watching man in its brush;
and in the moment in which Williston
drew hastily t'ck, the fear of discov
ery beating a tattoo of cold chills down
his spine, recognition of the man came
to him in a clarifying burst of com
prehension. But the man evidently saw nothing
and suspected nothing. His casual
glance was probably only a manifesta
tion of his habitual attitude of being
never off his guard. He approached
the prostrate steer with indifference
to any meaning that might be attached
to the soft snapping of twigs caused
by Williston's Involuntary drawing
back into the denser shadows.
"Y' don't suppose now, do you, that
any blamed, interferon' off'cer is
a-loafin' round where he oughtn't to
be?" said the second man with a
laugh.
Williston, much relieved, again
peered cautiously through the brush.
He was confident a brand was about
to be worked over. He must see
what there was to see.
"Easy now, boss," said the second
man with an officious warning. He
was a big, beefy fellow with a heavy,
hardened face. Williston sounded the
depths of his memory but failed to
place him among his acquaintances in
the cow country.
"Gamble on me," returned the lead
er, with ready good nature, "I'll make
it as clean as a boiled shirt. I take it
you don't know my reputation, pard.
well, you'll learn. You're all right,
only a trifle green, that's all."
With a firm, quick hand, he began
running the searing iron over the
right hip of the animal. When he had
finished and the steer, released, stag
gered to its feet, Williston saw the
brand clearly. It was J. R. If it ha'd
been worked over another brand, it
certainly was a clear job. He could
see no indications of any old markings
whatsoever.
"Too clean to be worked over a
lazy S," thought Williston, "but not
over three bars."
"There were six reds," said the
chief, surveying the remaining bunch
with a critical eye. "One must have
wandered off while I was gone. Get
out there in the brush and round him
up, Alec, while I tackle this long
horned gentleman."
Williston turned noiselessly away
from the scene which so suddenly
threatened danger. Both men were
fully armed and would brook no eaves
dropping. Once more he crossed the
sand in safety and found his horse
where he had left him, up the ravine.
He vaulted into the saddle and gal
loped away into the quiet night.
CHAPTER II.
"On the Trail."
Williston himself came to the door.
His thin, scholarly face looked drawn
and worn In the mid-day glare. A
tiredness in the eyes told graphically
of a sleepless night. , .
"I'm glad to see you, Langford," he
said. "It was good of you to come.
Leave your horse for Mary. She'll
give her water when she's cooled off
a bit."
"You sent for me, Williston?" asked
the young man, rubbing his face affeo
tionately against the wet neck of hie
mare.
"I did. It was good of you to come
to soon." '
"Fortunately your messenger found
me at home. As for the rest, Sade,1
here, hasn't hec beat in the cow
country, if she is only a cow pony, eh,
Sadie?"
At that moment Mary Williston
came into the open doorway of the
rude claim shanty set down in the
very heart of the sun-seared plain
which stretched away into heart-choking
distances from every possible
point of the compass. And sweet
she was to look upon, though tanned
and glowing from close association
with the ardent sun and riotous wind.
Her auburn hair, more reddish on the
endges from sunburn, was fine and
soft and there was much of it. It
seemed newly brushed and suspicious
ly glossy. One sees far on the plains,
and two years out of civilization are
not enough to make a girl forget the
use of a mirror, even if it be but a
broken sliver, propped up on a pine
board dressing table. She looked
strangely grown-up despite her short,
rough skirt and badly scuffed leather
riding leggings. Langford stared at
her wi;h a startled look of mingled
admiration and astonishment. She
came forward and put her hand on
the mare's bridle. She was not em
barrassed in the least. But the color
came into the stranger's face. He
swept his wide hat from his head
quickly.
"No Indeed, Miss Williston; I'll
water Sade myself."
"Please let me. I'd love to."
"She's used to it, Langford." said
Williston in his quiet, gentlemanly
voice, the well-bred cadence of which
spoke of a training far removed from
the harassments and harshnesses of
life in this plains country. "You see,
she Is the only boy I have. She must
of necessity be my chore boy as well
as my herd boy. In her leisure mo
ments she holds down her kitchen
claim; I don't know how she does it,
but she does. You had better let her
do It; she will hold It against you If
you don't."
"But I couldn't have a woman do
ing my grooming for me. Why, the
very idea!"
He sprang Into the saddle.
"But you waited for me to do it,"
said the girl, looking up at him cu
rlously.
"Did I? I didn't mean to. Yes, 1
did, too. But I beg your pardon. You
see say, look here; are you the 'little
girl' who left word for me this morn
ing?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Well, you see," smiling, but apolo
getic, "one of the boys said that Wil
liston's little girl had ridden over and
said her father wanted to see me as
soon as I could come. So, you see, 1
thought "
"Dad always calls me that, so most
of the people around here do, too. It
is very silly."
"I don't think so at all. I only
wonder why I have not known about
you before," with a frank smile. "It
must be because I've been away sc
much of the time lately. Why didn't
you wait for me?" he asked suddenly.
"Ten miles is a sort of a lonesome
run for a girl."
"I did wait a while," said Mary,
honestly, "but you didn't seem in any
hurry. I expect you didn't care to be
bored that long way with the silly
chatter of a 'little girl.' "
"Well," said Langford, ruefully, "I'm
afraid I did feel a little relieved when
I found you had not waited. I never,
will again. I do beg your pardon," he
called, laughingly, over his shoulder
as he galloped away to the spring.
When he returned there was no one
to receive him but Williston. To
gether they entered the house. It was
a small room into which Langford was
ushered. It was also verA plain. It
was more than that, it was shabby. j
An easy chair or two that has sur- j
vived the wreckage of the house of
Williston had been shipped to this
"land of promise," together with a
few other articles such as were abso- i
lutely indispensable. The table was j
a big shipping box, though Langford j
did not notice that, for it was neatly j
covered with a moth-eaten plum-col- i
ored felt cloth. A rug, crocheted out j
of parti-colored rags, a relic of Mary's J
conservative and thrifty grandmother,
served as a carpet for the living room.
A peep through the open door into the
next and only other room disclosed
glimpses of matting on the floor.
There was a holy place even in this
castaway house on the prairie. As the
young man's careless eyes took in
this new significance, the door closed
softly. The "little girl" had shut
herself in.
The two men sat down at the table.
It was hot. They were perspiring
freely. The flies, swarming through
the screenless doorway, stung disa
greeably. Laconically Williston told his story.
He wasted no words in the telling. In
the presence of the man whose big
success made his own pitiful failures
incongruous, his sensitive scholar's
nature had shut up like a clam.
Langford's jaw was set. His young
face was tense with interest. He had
thrown his hat on the floor as he came
in, as is the way with men who have
lived much without women. He had a
strong, bronzed face, with dare-devil
eyes, blue they were, too, and he had
a certain turn of the head, a mark of
distinction which success always gives
to her sons. He had big shoulders,
clad in a blue flannel shirt open at
the throat. In his absorption he had
forgotten the "little girl" as complete
ly as if she had, in very truth, been
the 10-year-old of his imagination.
How plainly he could see all the un
holy situation the handful of des
perate men perfectly protected on the
the little island. One man sighting
from behind a cottonwood could play
havoc with a whole sheriff's posse
on that open stretch of sand-bar.
Nothing but a surprise and did these
insolent men fear surprise? They had
laughed at the suggestion of the near
presence of an officer of the law. And
did they not do well to laugh? Surely
It was a joke, a good one, this idea
of an officer's being where he was
needed in Kemah county.
"And my brand was on that spotted
steerj' he interrupted. "I know the
creature know him well. He has a
mean eye. Had the gall to dispute the
right of way with me once, not so
long ago, either. He was in the cor
ral at the time, but he's been on the
range all summer. He may have the
evil eye all right, but he's mine, bad
eye and all; and what is mine, I will
have. And is that the only original
brand you saw?"
"The only one," quietly, "unless the
the J R on that red steer when he
got up was an original one."
"J R? Who could J R be?"
"I couldn't say, but the man was
Jesse Black."
"Jesse Black!"
The repeated words were fairly spit
out.
FIRE IN TELE-
PHONE OFFICE
The Destructive Conflagra
tion Only Averted by
Prompt and Hard
Work of Citi
zens. The Louisville Courier of last Satur
day says: Tuesday night at about 8
o'clock during the severe electric storm,
lightning set fire to the insulated wires
at the central office of the Independent
Telephone company located in the
second story over George Frater's drug
store. The operator, Miss Twiss, had
previously been compelled to abandon
the switch board and had taken refuge
in an adjoining room. The wires pass
ed through a pine board partition and
this caught tire and was making great
headway when discovered by Mr. Par
mele and some other gentlemen who
were sitting in the bank looking out the
the window. They gave the alarm and
by hard work the flames were extin
guished. Had the fire occurred later in the
night after people on the streets had
retired there would have been small
chance of saving the building and per
haps others adjacent, as the fire rend
ered the telephone unservicable and the
operator could not have given in the
alarm.
It was a very narrow escape, to say
the least, and should serve as a warn
ing to the people of Louisville to pro
tect their property against fire bv
hastening the water works proposition
before it is to late. We cannot always
expect to be lucky. We haven't al
ways been lucky in the past. An ex
penditure of from seven to ten thous
and dollars will put in a system of
water works that will go a long way
toward absolute protection.
Roll of Honor
t ollowing are those who have sent
in the wherewith to avdance their sub
senption mark on the Semi-weekly
Journal to 1909. We shall endeavor in
this way to acknowledge the receipt of
all monies paid on the weekly edition.
If you fail to find your name in the list
please notify us at once, and if you
have not . received credit it may be
looked after at once. At the same
time please accept our thanks for the
remittance
Warren Wiley, Murray.
Geo. P. Forman, Alvo.
J. W. Pittman, Union.
C. W. Pittman, Weeping Water.
C. E. Doty, Alva, Okla.
Joseph Cook, Plattsmouth.
Will Kroehler, Havelock, Neb.
C. C. Spangler, Deweese, Neb.
Geo. Schafer, Ferguson, Neb.
J. II. Meisinger, Cedar Creek.
Jacob J. Meisinger, Cedar Creek.
C. D. Spangler, Murray.
Wm. J. Keil, Alpena, South Dakota.
Jno II. Spangler, Plattsmouth, Neb.
James Hatchett, Murray, Neb.
W. D. Ilil', South Bend, Neb.
Nicholas Halmes, Plattsmouth, Neb.
D. L. Adams, Mynard, Neb.
L. W. Patterson, Narka, Kansas.
Chas. R. Moore, Fruita, California.
F. W. Moore, Murray, Neb.
P. A. Hild, Mynard, Neb. .
F. C. Vallery, Murray, Neb.
J. A. Walker, Murray, Neb.
A. H. Engelkemier, Nehawka, Neb.
Lafe O'Neill, Grindstone, So Dak.,
Myrtle Hutcheson, Plattsmouth, Neb,
Sam Unland Arlington, Neb., paid by
! Peter Perry.
J. II. Latron, Eagle.
Farm for Sale!
I have a farm about 1J miles south
east of the city on the ferry road, well
improved, containing 48 acres, which I
am offering for sale dirt cheap. My
price being $4,000. Frank Swallow.
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As proven by the large number
of buildings in Plattsmouth
completely painted with
PATTON'S Sun-Proof PAINT!
It stands the te?t of time, is
true to shade and moderate in
price.
FURTHERMORE: IT GUARANTEES.
j
n
PIMP
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OIL
AGENTS.
! In The District Court
This morning Judge II. D. Travis
handed down a dicision in the cas of
A. II. Cooley vs John Q. Lancing, re
l lative to the suing of the latter for the
j fulfilment of the terms of an alleged
' lease for land containing a stone quarry,
j the case was decided in favor of the
t defendent.
A BOOH FOR GOV
ERNOR DOUGLAS
Former Governor Suggested
Dryan's Running
Mate
A special from Washington sayB: As
it is generally admitted that Mr. Bryan
will be the democratic candidtae, more
and more there is talk heard among
leading democrats at the capitol of Ex
Governor William L. Douglas of Mass
achusetts being his running mate. If
Mr. Douglas should be nominated it is
the opinion of some democrats that it
would make Massachuttes the fighting
ground. In this connection there is an
interesting story current to the effect
that should the democrats nominate
Mr. Douglas the labor vote will be cast
for that party. In addition to his re
putation as a friend of labor Mr. Doug
las possesses other qualities calculated
to make him a suitable candidate for
the vice presidency. He is looked upon
as a typical American and, what is
fully as much to the point, he has the
"barrel of money" which it is custom
ary to associate with the second place
on a presidential ticket.
"The life story of Mr. Douglas is a
story possible nowhere but in America.
Yesterday he way proverty-stricken ;
today he is a multi-millionaire. Yester
day he worked from daylight until
dark for five dollars a month at the
shoemaker's bench, toiled in a cotton
mill for thirty-three cents a day, tramp
ed sturdily behind a four-ox team and
prairie schooner across the plains of
the great we3t, toiled as a common
laborer about a lime kiln; today he
manages a business employing 3,000
men and women, with several large
factories and upward of one hundred
retail stores, is a banking president and
as director in other large enterprises."
THS CELEBRATED JACK
BEN HILL, JR.,
Will make the reason of 1908
at the farm of the undersigned
at Rock Bluffs, seven miles
south of Plattsmouth:
live in a green painted cottage,
barns across the road, right on
the mail route through Rock
Bluffs.
BEX IIILIy, Jr., is a sure foal
getter, and has stood several
seasons in this county. lie
is eight years old, black with
white points, stands high and
weighs 1050 pounds.
TERMS: $12.00 to insure colt
to stand and suck.
SAM 6. SMITH
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