LAMEF(LM
BY KATE AND VIRGIL
coovQGnr er a c Mcujr?c uco. 907
-cr
'
her knees, sat on the doorstop,
thoughtfully staring out Into the still
darkness. There was a stir.
"Hedtime, little girl," said Willis
ton. "Just a minute more, daddy. Must
we have a light? Think how the
mosquitoes will swarm. Let's go to
bed In the dark."
"VVt will shut the door, and next
summer, little girl, you shall have
your screens. I promise that, always
providing, of course, Jesse Mack
leaves 113 alone."
Had it not been so dark, Mary could
have seen the wistful smile on the
thin scholarly face. Hut though she
could not see it, she knew it was
there. There had been fairer hopes
and more generous promises in the
past few years. They had all gone
the dreary way of Impotent striving,
of bitter disappointment. There was
little need of light fcr Mary to read
her father's thoughts.
"Sure, daddy," she answered, cheer
ily. "And I'll see that you don't for
get. As for Jesse Black, he wouldn't
dare with the Three Bars on his trail.
Well, if you must have a light, you
must," rising and stretching her firm
fleshed young arms far over her head.
"You can't forget you were born in
civilization, can you, daddy? I am
sure I could be your man in the dark,
if you'd let me, and I always turn
your night-shirt right side out before
hanging it on your bedpost, and your
eheet and spread are turned down,
and water right at hand. You funny,
funny little father, who can't go to bed
in the dark." She was rummaging
around a shelf in search of matches.
"Now, I have forgotten long since that
I wasn't born on the plains. It
wouldn't hurt me if I had misplaced
my nightdress. I've done it," with a gay
little laugh. He must be cheered up
at all costs, this buffeted and disap
pointed but fine-minded, high-strung
and lovable father of hers. "And I
haven't taken my hair down nights
since oh, since months ago, till oh,
well so you see it's easy enough for
me to go to bed in the dark."
Her hand touched the match box
at last. A light flared out.
"Shut the door quick, dad," she said,
lighting the lamp on the table. "The
skeeters'U eat us alive."
Williston stepped to the door. Just
a moment he stood there in the door
way, the light streaming out into the
night, tall, thoughtful, no weakling in
spite of many failures and many mis
takes. A TaTr mark lie made, outlined
against the brightly lighted room. It
was quiet. Not even a coyote shrilled.
And while he stood there looking up
at the calm stars, a sudden sharp re
port rang out and the sacred peace of
God, written in the serenity of still
summer nights, was desecrated. Hiss
ing and ominous, the bullet sang past
Williston's head, perilously near, and
lodged in the opposite wall.- At that
moment the light was blown out. A
great presence of mind had come to
Mary in the time of imminent dan
ger." "Good, my dear!" cried Williston, in
low tencs. Quick as a flash the door
was slammed shut and bolted just as
a second shot fell foul of it.
"Oh, my father:" cried Mary, grop
ing her way to his side.
"Hush, my dear! They missed me
clean. Don't lose your nerve. Mary.
They won't find it so easy after all."
There had been no third shot. A
profound silence followed the second
report. There was no sound of horse
or n:an. Whence, then, the shots?
One man, maybe, creeping up like
come foul beast of prey to strike in
the dark. Was he still lurking near,
abiding another opportunity?
It took but a moment for Williston
to have the lifles cocked and ready.
Mary took her own from him with a
hand that trembled ever so sligthly.
"What will you do, father?" she
asked, holding her rifle lovingly and
thanking God in a swift, unformed
thought for every rattlesnake or other
noxious creature whose life she had
put out while doing her raan work of
riding the range work which had giv
en her not only a man's courage, but a
man's skill as well.
"Take the back window, girl," he
answered briefly. -I'll take the front.
Stand to the side. Get used to the
starlight and shoot every shadow you
see, especially if it moves. Keep track
of your shots, don't waste an effort
and don't let anything creep up on
you. They mustn't get near enough
to fire the house."
His voice was sharp and incisive.
The drifting habit had fallen from him
and he was his own master again.
Several heavy minutes dragged
away without movement, without
sound from without. The ticking of
the clock pressed on strained ears like
ghastly bell-tolling. Their eyes be
came accustomed to the darkness, and
by the dim starlight they were able to
distinguish the outlines of the cattle
sheds, still, empty, black. Nothing
moved out there.
"I think they're frightened off." said
Mary at last, breathing more freely.
"They were probably just one, or
they'd not have left. He knew he
missed you, or he would not have fired
again. Do you think it was Jesse?"
A - J Mil
D. BOYLES
"Jesse would not have missed." he
said, grimly. '
At that moment a new sound broke
the stillness, the whinny of a horse.
Reinforcements had approached with
in the shadow of the cattle-sheds.
Something moved out there at last.
"Daddy!" called Mary, in a choked
whisper. "Come here they are down
at the sheds."
Williston stepped to the back win
dow quickly.
"Change places," he said briefly.
"Daddy!"
"Yes?"
"Keep up your nerve," she breathed
between great heart-pumps.
"Surely! Do you the same, little
comrade, and shoot to kill."
There was a savage note in his last
words. For himself, it did not matter
so much, but Mary he pinned no
false faith in any thought of possible
chivalrous intent on the part of the
raiders to exempt his daughter from
the grim fate that awaited him. He
had to deal with a desperate man;
there would be no clemency in this
desperate man's retaliation.
To his quickened hearing came the
sound of stealthy creeping. Some
thing moved directly in front of him,
but some distance away. "Shoot every
shadow you see, especially if it
moves," were the fighting orders, and
his was the third shot of that night.
"Hell! I've got it in the leg!" cried
a rough voice full of intense anger
and pain, and there were sounds of a
precipitate retreat.
Out under protection of the long
row of low-built sheds other orders
were being tersely given and silently
received.
"Now, men, I'll shoot the first man
of you who blubbers when he's hit.
D'ye hear? There have been breaks
enough in this affair already. I don't
intend for that petticoat man and his
pulin' petticoat kid in there to get any
satisfaction out o this at all. Hear
me?"
There was no response. None was
needed.
Some shots found harmless lodg
ment in the outer walls of the shanty.
They were the result of an unavailing
attempt to pick the window whence
Williston's shot had come. Mary
could not keep back a little womanish
gasp of nervous dread.
"Grip your nerve, Mary," said her
father. "That's nothing shooting
from down there. Just lie low and
they can do nothing. Only watch,
child, watch! They must not creep
up on us. Oh, for a moon!"
She did grip her nerve, and her
hand ceased its trembling. In the
darkness her eyes were big and
solemn. Sometime, to-morrow, the re
action would come, but to-night
"Yes, father, keep up your o.wn
nerve," she said in a brave little voice
that made the man catch his breath.
Again the heavy minutes dragged
away. At each of the two windows
crouched a tense figure, brain alert,
eyes in iron control. It was a fright
ful strain, this waiting game. Could
one be sure nothing had escaped one's
vigilance? Starlight was deceptive,
and one's eyes must needs shift to
keep the mastery over their Tittle
horizon. It might well be that some
one of those ghostly and hidden sen
tinels patrolling the lonely homestead
had wormed himself past staring eye
balls, crawling, crawling, crawling; it
might well be that at any moment a
sudden light flaring up from some
corner would tell the tale of the end.
Now and then could be heard the
soft thud of a hoof as some one rode
to execute an order. Occasionally,
something moved out by the sheds.
Such movement, if discernible from
the house, was sure to be followed on
the instant by a quick, sharp remon
strance from Williston's rifle. How
long could it last? Would his nerve
wear away with the night? Could he
keep his will dominant? If so, he
must drag his mind resolutely away
from that nerve-racking, still, and un
seen creeping, creeping, creeping,
nearer and nearer. How the stillness
weighed upon him, and still his mind
dwelt upon that sinuous, fiat-bellied
creeping, crawling, worming! God, it
was awful! He fought it desperately.
He knew he was lost if he could not
stop thinking about it. The sweat
came out in big beads on his forehead,
on his body; he prickled with the heat
of the effort. Then it left him the
awful horror left him curiously cold,
but steady of nerve and with a will of
iron and eyes, cat's eyes, for their
seeing in the dark. Now that he was
calm once more, he let himself weigh
the chances of succor. They were
pitifully remote. The Lazy S was
situated in a lonely stretch of prairie
land far from any direct trail. True,
it lay between Kemah, the county
seat, and the Three Bars ranch, but
it was a good . half mile from the
straight routs. Even so, it was a late
hour for any one to be passing by. It
was not a traveled trail except for the
boys of the Three Bars, and they
were known to be great home-stayers
and little given to spreeing. As for
the rustlers, if rustlers they were,
they had no fear of interruption by
the officers of the law, who held their
- -
places by virtue of the insolent and
arbitrary will of Jesse Black and his
brotherhood, and were now carousing
in Kemah by virtue of the hush-money
j put up by this same secret tribunal,
j "Watch, child, watch!" he said
again, without in the least shift inr; his
I 1ens position.
"Surely!" responded Mary, quite
steadily.
Now was her time come. Dark,
sinister figures flitted from tree to
tree. At first she could not be sure, it
was so heartlessly dark, but there was
movement it was different from that
terrible blank quiet which she had
hitherto ben gazing upon till her eyes
burned and pricked as witlf needle
points, and visionary things swam be
fore them. She winked rapidly to
dispel the unreal and floating things,
opened wide her long lashed lids, fixed
them, and fired. Then Williston
knew that his "little girl," his one ewe
lamb, all that was left to him of a full
and gracious past, must go through
what he had gone through, all that
nameless horror and expectant dread,
and his heart cried out at the unholy
injustice of it all. He dared not go to
her, dared not desert his post for an
instant. If one got within the shadow
of the walls all was lost.
Mary's challenge was met with a
rather hot return fire. It was probably
given to inspire the besieged with a
due respect for the attackers' num
bers. Bullets pattered around the out
side walls like hailstones, one even
whizzed through the window perilous
ly near the girl's Intent young face.
Silence came back to the night.
There was no more movement. Yet
down there at the spring something,
maybe one of those dark, gaunt cot
tonwoods, held death death for her
and death for her father. A stream of
icy coldness struck across her heart.
She found herself calculating in delib
eration which tree it was that held
this thing death. The biggest one,
shadowing the spring, helping to keep
the pool sweet and cool where Paul
Langford had galloped his horse that
day when ah! if Paul Langford
would only come now!
A wild, girlish hope flashed up in
her heart. Langford would come
had he not sworn it to her father?
Had he not given his hand as a
pledge? It means something to shake
hands in the cattle country. He was
big and brave and true. When he
came these awful, creeping terrors
would disperse grim shadows that
must steal away when morning comes.
When he came she could put her
rifle in his big, confident hands, lie
down on the floor and cry. She
wanted to cry oh, how she did want
to cry. Cold reason came back to her
aid and dissipated the weak and
womanish longing to give way to
tears. There was a pathetic droop to
her mouth, a long, quivering, sob
bing sigh, and she buried her wom
an's weakness right deeply and
stamped upon it. How utterly wild
and foolish her brief hope had been!
Langford and all his men were sound
in sleep long ago. How could he
know? were the ruffians out there
men to tell? Ah, no! There was no
one to know. It would all happen in
the dark In awful loneliness, and
there would be no one to know until
it was all over to-morrow, maybe, or
next week, who could tell? They
were off the main trail, few people
ever sought them out. There would
be no one to know.
As her strained sight stared out in
to the darkness it was borne to her
intuitively, it may be, that something
was creeping up on her. She could
see nothing and yet knew it to be
true. Every fiber of her being tingled
with the certainty of it. It was com
ing closer and closer. She felt it like
an actual presence. Her eyes shifted
here, there swept her half-circle
searchingly stared and stared. Still
nothing moved. And yet the nearness
of some unseen thing grew more and
more palpable. If she could not see
it soon she must scream aloud. She
breathed in little quickened gasps.
Soon, very soon, she would scream.
Ah! A shadow down by the biggest
cottonwood! It bodly sought a nearer
and a smaller trunk. Another slink
ing shadow glided behind the vacated
position. It was a ghastly presenta
tion of "pussy-wants-a-corner" played
in nightmare. But at last it was
something tangible something to do
away with that frightful sensation of
They Were Covered on the Instant.
that crawling, creeping, twisting
worming, insinuating nearer and
nearer, so near now that it beat upon
unseen presence. She pressed
her finger to the trigger to shoot at
the tangible shadows and dispel that
enveloping, choking, blanket horror,
when God knows what stayed the
action of her fingers C-u;.i it Instinct,
what you will, her hand was stayed
even before her physical eye was
caught and held by a blot darker still
than the night, over to her right, farth
est from the spring. It lay perfectly
still. It came to her, the wily plan,
with startling clearness. The blot
was waiting for her to fire futilely at
grinning shadows among the trees
and, under cover of her engrossed at
tention insinuate its treacherous body
the farther forward. Then the play
would go merrily on till the end. She
turned the barrel of her rifle slowly
and deliberately away from the mov
ing shapes among the cottonwood
clump, sighted truly the motionless
blur to her right and fired, once, twice,
three times.
The completeness of the surprise
seemed to inspire the attackers with
a hellish fury. They returned the fire
rapidly and at will, remaining under
cover the while. Shrinking low at
her window, her eyes glued on the still
black mass out yonder, Mary wonder
ed if it were dead. She prayed pas
sionately that it might be, and yet
it is a dreadful thing to kill. Once
more the wild firing ceased. Mary re
sponded once or twice just to keep the
deadly chill from returning if that
were possible.
Under cover of the desperadoes'
fire, at obtuse angles with the first
attempt, a second blot began its tor
tuous twisting. It accomplished a
space, stopped; pulled itself its length,
stopped, waited, watchful eyes on the
window whence came Mary's scatter
ed firing still into the clump of trees.
They had drawn her close regard at
last. Would it hold out? Forward
again, crawling flat on the ground,
ever advancing, slowly, very slowly,
but also very surely, creeping, creep
ing, creeping, now stopping, now
creeping, stopping, creeping.
All . at once the gun play began
again, sharp, quick, from the spring,
from the sheds. The blot lay perfect
ly still for a moment waiting, watch
ing. The plucky little rifle was silent.
But so it had been before. Quarter
length, half, whole length, cautiously
with frequent stops, eyes so steely, so
intent could it be possible that this
gun was really silenced out of the
race? It would not do to trust too
much. The blot waited, scarcely
breathed, crept forward again.
A sudden bright light flashed up
through the darkness under the unpro
tected wall to Mary's left. Almost
simultaneously a kindred light sprang
into being "from the region of the cattle-sheds.
The men down there had
been waiting for this signal. It
meant that for some reason the second
effort to creep up unobserved to fire
the house had been successful. The
flare grew and spread. It became a
glare.
When the whole cabin seemed to be
in flames save the door the dry, rude
boarding had caught and burned like
paper when the heat had become un
bearable. Williston held out his hand
to his daughter, silently. As silently
she put her hand, her left hand, in
his; nor did Williston notice that it
was her left, nor how limply her right
arm hung to her side. In the glare,
her face shone colorless, but her dark
eyes were stars. Her head was held
high. With firm step, Williston ad
vanced to the door. Deliberately he
unbarred it, as deliberately threw it
open and stepped over the threshold.
They were covered on the instant by
four rifles.
"Drop your guns!" called the chief,
roughly. Then the desperadoes moved
up.
"I take it that I am the one
wanted," said Williston.
His voice was calm and scholarly
once more. In the uselessness of
further struggle, it had lost the sharp
incisiveness that had been the call to
action. If one must die it is good to
die after a brave fight. One is never
a coward then. Williston's face wore
an almost exalted look.
"My daughter is free to go?" he
asked, his first words having met
with no response. Better, much bet
ter, for the make of a man like Willis
ton to die in the dignity of silence,
but far Mary's sake he parleyed.
. . . II T . 1 1 1 ,1
i guess not: responueu cue icauer,
curtly. "If a pulin' idiot hadn't missed
the bread side of you as pretty a
mark this side heaven as man could
want then we might talk about the
girl. She's showed up too damned
much like a man now to let her loose."
His big, shuffling form lounged in
his saddle. He raised his rifle with
every appearance of lazy indifference.
They were to be shot down where
they stood, now, right on the thres
hold of their burning homestead. Wil
liston bowed his head to the inevit
able for a moment; then raised it
proudly to meet the inevitable.
A rifle shot rang out startlingly
clear. At the very moment the lead
er's hawk eye had swept the sight, his
rifle arm had twitched uncertainly,
then fallen nerveless to his side, while
his bullet, playing a faltering and
discordant second to the first true
shot, tore up the ground in front of
him and swerved harmlessly to one
side. Instantly the wildest confusion
reigned shouts, curses, the plunging
of horses mingled with the sharp
scrack of fire-arms. The shooting was
wild. The surprise was too com
plete for the outlaws to recover at
once. They had heard no sound of ap
proaching hoof-beats. The roaring
flames licking up the dry timber and
rendering the surrounding darkness
the blacker for the contrast had been
of saving grace to the besiegers after
all.
In a moment the desperadoes ral
lied. They closed in and imposed a
cursing, malignant wall between the
rescuers and the blazing door of the
shanty and what stood and lay before
it. Mary had sunk down at her father's
feet and had no cognizance of the
fierce though brief conflict that en-
Eilmwood
From the leatlur-Kclio.
A son was born to Mr. anil Mrs.
John Swartzman Wednesday, April 1st.
A sou was born to Mr. and Mrs. Wm.
Kemke, residing' west of M unlock, on
Saturday, March 2.S.
A son was born to Mr. and Mrs. Geo.
Miller, residing four miles south and a
miles east of Elmwood, yesterday.
Mrs. Munn, of Plattsmouth, came
out Saturday for an over Sunday visit
with her daughter, who is staying at
the John Weichel home near AIvo.
The oldest son of Henry Frisbee, who
has been seriously ill with typhoid
fever, suffered a severe hemorrhage
Saturday and at present writing is in a
very serious condition.
Kirk Cunningham got the first finger
of his left hand in the way of a couple
of barrels of salt when they bumped
together Tuesday, and now he is nurs
ing a painful and badly mashed finger.
Next week L. F. Uhley expects to
commence the carpenter work on
Frank Buell's new house, four miles
north and a half mile west of Elmwood.
The house will be 32x34, two stories
high with finish attic, two large porches
and all up-to-date improvements. When
completed it will be one of the finest
farm residences in Cass county.
Miss Edith Mullin, who recently
graduated as a nurse from the Ne
braska orthopedic hospital departed
Tuesday for New York City, where she
will take a post graduate course in
Bellevue hospital, one of the most
celebrated hospitals in the country, to
further fit herself for a professional
career. Her father and neice, Miss
Marjorie Stark, accompanied her to
Lincoln Monday.
$100 Reward SIOO
The reders of this paper will be
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been able to cure in all stages, and that
is Catarrh. Hall's Catarrh Cure is the
only positive cure now known to the
medical fraternity. Catarrh being a
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stitutional treatment. Hall's Catarrh
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upon the blood and mucous surfaces of
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foundation of the disease, ond giving
the patient strength by building up the
constitution and assisting nature ir
doing its work. The proprietors have
so much faith in its curative powers
that they offer One Hundred Dollars
for any case it fails to cure. Send for
a list of testimonials.
Address F.J. Cheney & Co., Tole, O.
Sold by all Druggists, 75c.
Take Hall's Family Pillc for C3nstipatior.
Union
From the LedKer
Born To Herny Duclos and wife' a
girl, who came to live with them last
Thursday.
Miss Florence Davis was a guest of
her May Larson in Plattsmouth last
Saturday and Sunday.
Mahlon Applegate's genial phiz made
its appearance here again on Wednes
day, as he came in that day from
Villisca, Iowa.
Len S. Austin arrived Wednesday
night from Wymore to visit his brother,
Gabe, who has been very sick the past
week.
Roy Upton's lame eye had him down
and out of business for a few days and
a physician had to be called to relieve
the pain. He was able to appear in
public Tuesday.
Mrs. Claud Everett had as guests
Sunday her mother, Mrs. Grimes, of
Plattsmouth, her son, Frank Smith, of
Plattsmouth, and her brother, Chas.
Grimes of Fort Worth, Texas.
A. II. Austin has been a very sick
man the past week, confined to his bed
with an attack of fever and stomach
trouble. He is now improving, but not
yet able to be out of the house.
At the April term of the Federal
court at Lincoln, which convenes on the
14th, John Bramblet, Will Cross and
Dan Lynn will have to serve as jurors
or furnish some almighty good ex
cuses. Tabor Spratlin, a former citizen of
this county, who has been out on the
Pacific coast several years, arrived
here Monday from the state of Wash
ington, and will visit some time in this
county and in Omaha.
Chas. Morton with six car of cattle,
and Abe Becker and Lute Hall with
four cars of cattle and hogs, went to
the Kansas City market last Saturday
night. This is perhaps the largest ship
ment of stock made at one time from
any point in this county.
Charles Garrison and wife and Mrs.
Dean Austin went down to Burlington
Junction, Mo., last week. Mr. Garri
son returned home Sunday, but the
two ladies remained here to try the ef
fects of the treatment at tne sani
tarium. Whooping Cough
Ihave used Chmaerlain's Cough Rem
edy in my family in cases of whooping
cough, and want to tell you that it is the
best medicine I have evei used. W. F.
Gaston, Posco, Ga. This remedy is
For sale by F. C. Prick e
Louisville
f rom t Ik; Courier
Born to Mr. and Mrs. Emery Steele,
March 25, a girl.
Uncle George Schoernari caino up
from I'lattsmouth Thursday evening
for a few day's visit with his Louis
ville friends.
Miss Ora Watson, who has spent the
winter here with Mr. and Mrs. Chas.
Phelps, returned to her home at Coals,
Neb., last Saturday.
"Grandma" Boedeker has been lying
very near death's door for the past
week or ten days, but at time of going
to press was resting easier.
Oscar and Arthur Palmer, Bert
Jacobson, Otto Petersen and Miss Beth
Maxfield came down from Lincoln last
Saturday to spend a week's vacation at
their home.
Fred Diers, sr.. and wife and H. J.
Tangeman and wife left Wednesday
for Ulysses to visit with relatives. Mr.
and Mrs. Diers expects to remain for
an extended visit.
The Louisville Public Library is
steadily increasing in the. number of its
patrons. Since January 1, 190S, the
librarian has let out 520 books, and
with this increasing demand it will be
necessary to increse the number of
volums in the near future.
Charley Bryant has the thanks of the
Courier for a fine mess of new onions.
Charley has converted the right-of-way
near the junction of the Burlington and
Missouri Pacific roads into a neat and
well kept lawn with flowers of every
variety in profusion. Further back he
has his garden patch, where he raises
all vegetables needed for his table. A
number of years ago Mr. Bryant lost
his right arm, but anyone who will
take the trouble to visit him at the
semaphore will agree with the Courier
that there are many men possessing
two strong arms who do not accom
plish half as much as our friend, Mr.
Bryant.
Nehwka
(From the l:flslr. )
A daughter of the reported weight
of twelve pounds was born to Mr. and
Mrs. Henry E. Duclos last Friday
morning.
Herman Stoll was in town Wednes
day and had with him a bird, said to be
a crane, which he killed on the creek
near his home.
Mr. and Mrs. Nick Opp are grand
parents to a little boy baby born to
Mr. and Mrs. Claude Ausmus March
12, at Swift Current, Satchkewan,
Canada.
Mr. D. C. West and Mrs. J. M. Pal
mer went to Oskaloosa, Iowa, Saturday
evening to be present with Mrs. West,
who was operated on Tuesday morn
ing. Mrs. D. C. West, who was operated
on last Tuesday, stood the operation
fairly well, but, of course, is not out of
danger. Her many friends hope for a
speedy recovery.
Mrs. Pankonin of Perkins county,
tl i 5 state, and Mrs. Goehry, of Mur-
dock, visited with their sisitujr, Mrs.
Garber on Monday. Mrs. Pankonin
left Tuesday morning for Westfield,
Wis., where she expects to make her
future home.
Norman C. DelesDernier and family
went to Elmwood Sunday and with
other relatives and friends f,ave a sur
prise to Mrs. John Drecmir, Mrs.
DelesDernier's mother, on her sixty
sixth birthday. A very pleasant time
was had and many presents were given
ti Grandma to help her remember the
day.
We forgot to mention in last week's
issue that Wes. Magney and family,
had returned home from California,
where they spent the winter. Wes. is
much improved in health and says if he
gets to feeling badly he known where
to go to get relief. He brought home
a lot of oranges that were ripe when
picked and say we would like to have
the pleasure of picking some if they
are as good as the one he gave us.
IF NOT
WHY NOT
NOW ?
GET CURED
Average Time to Cure.
RUPTURE
HYDROCELE .
VARICOEELE.
CATARACTS..
IMPOTENCY. .
STRICTURE. . .
GLEET
CANCER
CATARRH
One Visit
One Visit
One visit
3 to 10 Days
5 to 10 Days
5 to 30 Days
5 to 30 Days
5 to 30 Days
10 to 30 Days
CO to 90 Days
GOITER.
Piles, Fistula 3 to 5 Days
Losses, Drains, etc 5 to 30 Days
Liquor Habit 10 to 30 Days
Prostatic Troubles 10 to 30 Days
Rheumatism, Gout 10 to 30 Days
Stomach Diseases 20 to CO Days
Kidney Diseases 20 to 60 Days
Bladder Diseases 20 to GO Days
Blood Poison, etc 60 to 90 Days
We advertise what we do, and do what
we advertise. No incurables taken.
NO KNIFE, BLOOD OR PAIN.
Examinations freo to all who write
for Appointment Card Now.
THE GERMAN SPECIALISTS,
SECOND FLOOR
522 Broadway, - - Council Bluffs, la.
safe and sure.
& Co.
