Professional Cards
ROBT. P. STARR
Attorney-at-Law,
LOUP CITY. NEBRSSKS.
NIGHTINGALE & SON
Attorney rnd Comicr^t'Lw
LOUP UITY, NEB
R. H. MATHEW,
Attorney-at-Law,
And Bonded Abstractor,
Loup City, Nebraska
AAEON WALL '
Xja,-W7ir©r
Practices in all Courts
Loup City, Neb.
ROBERT H. MATHEW
Bonded Abstracter
Loup City, - Nebraska.
Only set of Abstract books in county
O. E. LONGACRE
PHYSICIAN ill SURGEON
Office, Over New Bank.
TELEPHONE CALL, NO. 39
A. J. KEARNS
Plione, 30. Office at Residence
Two Doors East of Telephone Central
Limp Clip, - Nebraska
A. S. MAIN
Loup City, Nebr.
Office at Residence,
Telephone Connection
J, E. Bowman M. D. Carrie L. Bowman M. D.
BOWMAN & BOWMAN
Physicians ami Surgeons
Phone 114 Loup City, Xabraska
S. A. ALLEN,
BEJYTIST,
LOUP CITY, - - NEB.
Office up stairs in the new State
iJank building.
w7l MARCY,
DENTIST,
LOUP 0ITY, NEB
OFFICE: East Side Public Sauare.
Phone, 10 on 36
V I. McDonall
Prompt Dray Work
Call lumber yards or Taylor’s
elevator. Satisfaction guaran
teed. Phone 6 on 57
C. E. Stroud
Formerly of Kansas City.
Painting, Papering
and Decorating
Special attention paid to Autos
and Carriages. All tops re
newed and repaired. All work
guaranteed. Phone 0
sanisB
Contractor and Plasterer
Phone 6 on 70
Give me a call and get my
prices. I will treat you right.
Satisfaction Guaranted
C. n. SWEETLAND
PLUMBER
UffiS® AND
ELECTRICIAN
For good clean and neat work
Satisfaction Guaranteed
Come and get my prices
For a Square Deal
IN
Real Estate
'■ ■ JP
And Insurance
See
J. W Dougal
Offce First Floor, 4
doors south of
State Bank Building
ILLUSTRATIONS DY f^AY WA ff=R£>
COPYRIGHT nos DY T:IZ BOBSO -R1ERRIU. CO.
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Countess Elise. daughter
of tho Governor of the Mount, has chance
encounter with a peasant boy.
CHAPTER II—The "Mountr” a small
rock-bound Island, stood In a vast bay on
the north western coast of France, and
during the time cf Louis XVI was a gov
ernment stronghold. Develops that the
pea3a.1t boy was the son of Seigneur
Desaurac, nobleman.
CHAPTER ITT—Young Desaurac deter
mines to secure an education and be
come a gentleman; sees the governor's
daughter depart for Paris.
CHAPTER IV—Lady Elise returns aft
er seven years’ schooling, and entertains,
many nobles.
CHAPTER V—Her Ladyship dances
with a strange fisherman, and a call to
arms is made in an effort to capture a
mysterious Le Seigneur Nois.
CHAPTER VI—The Black Seigneur es
capes.
CHAPTER VII—Lady Elise is caught
in the "Grand” tide.
CHAPTER VIII—Black Seigneur res
cues. and takes Lady Elise to his re
treat.
CHAPTER IX—Elise discovers that her
savior was the boy with the fish.
CHAPTER X-Sanchez, the Seigneur’s
servant, is arrested and brought before
the governor.
CHAPTER XI—Lady Elise has Sanchez
set free.
canto ashore, "but, 'according to habit,
preserved a shrewd silence; in the
afternoon a small number of the
crew landed to take on stores and
ammunition—of which there was ever
a plentiful supply at this base; that
night, however, all, including their
master, betook themselves to the
Cockles.
“Glad to see you ashore, mon capi
taine.” Pierre Laroche, standing at
the door, just beyond reach of the
fierce driving rain, welcomed the
Black Seigneur warmly; but the
young man, one of whose arms seemed
bound and useless, cut short his
greeting; tossed bruskly aside his
heavy cloak, and called for a room
where he might sit in private with a
companion. This person the landlord
eyed askance; nevertheless, with a
snow oi muu nearuness, ne iea me
way to a small chamber, somewhat
apart, but overlooking the long low
apartment, the general eating and
drinking place of the establishment,
now filled by the crew and a number
of the islanders.
“Your capitaine has been hurt?
How?” A strapping, handsome girl,
clad in red and of assured mien, pass
ing across the room, paused to ad
dress a man of ^prodigious girth, who
drank with much gusto from a huge
vessel at his elbow.
‘Did not your father, Pierre La
l roche, tell you?”
“He? No; all he thinks of is the
money.”
“Then must le capitaine speak for
himself, Mistress Nanette.”
“You are not very polite, Monsieur
Gabarie,” she returned, tossing her
head; “but I suppose there is a rea
son; you have been beaten. In an en
counter with the Governor’s ships?
Did you sink any of them? It would
be good news for us islanders.”
“You islanders!” derisively.
“Yes, islanders!” she answered de
fiantly. “But tell me; a number of
you wear patches, which make you
look very ugly. They were acquired—
how?”
“In a little clerical argument!”
growled the poet.
She glanced toward the secluded
apartment; its occupants—the subject
of their conversation, and a priest, a
feeble-looking man of about seventy,
whose delicate/ sad face shone white
and out-of-keeping iii that adventure
some company. “At any rate, tho
Black Seigneur hasn’t lost his good
looks!”
uaic juu uuu c iu&c juui
heart!”
. “Bah!” Her strong bold eyes
swept back. “Much good it would da
me!”
“And for that reason—”
“Messieurs!” the landlord’s voice
broke in upon them; “behold!” it
. seemed to say, as pushing through
the company, he preceded a lanky lad
who bore by their legs many plucked
fowls and birds—woodcock, wild
duck,* cliff pigeons—and made his way
to the great open fireplace at one end
of the room. There, bending over the
glowing embers, the landlord delib
erately stirred and spread them; then,
reaching for a bar of steel, he selected
a poulet from the hand of the lanky
attendant and prepared to adjust it;
but before doing so, plodded it with
his finger, surveyed it critically, and
held it up for admiring attention.
“Who says old Pierre Laroche
doesn’t know how to care for his
friends? What think you of it, my
Blasters ?”
“Plump as the King’s confessor,”
muttered the poet.
“Or your King himself!” said one of
the islanders.
“On with the King! Skewer the
King!” exclaimed a fierce voice.
“And then we’ll eat him!” laughed
the girl, showing her white teeth.
“Thoughtless children!” From his
place at the table in the small room
adjoining, the priest, attracted by the
eriru merriment of the islanders,
looked down to regard them; the red
fire; the red gown.
“Here, at least, will you find a safe
asylum, Father,” said his companion,
the Black Seigneur, in an absent tone;
“a little rough, perhaps, to suit your
calling—”
“The rougher, the more suitable—
as I’ve often had occasion to learn
since leaving Verranch.”
“Since being driven from it, you
mean!” shortly.
“Ah, those revolutionary documents
—placed in my garden!’1
“To make you appear—you, Father!
—a sanguinary character!” But' 'top
other’s laugh rang false.
“Alas, such wickedness! But I was
too content; the rose-covered cottage
fSo comfortableits garden, an' Eden!
It was more meet 1 should be driven
forth; go out into the highways, where
1 found—such misery! I reproached
myself I lied not sought it sooner—
voluntarily. From north to south
peasants dying, women and children
starving, no one to administer the last
rites—on every side, work, work for
the outcast priest! For ten years it
has occupied him—a blessed privi
lege—”
“And then,” the young man, who
had seemed absorbed in other
thoughts, hardly listening, looked me
chanically up, “you came back?”
“A weakness of age! To see the
old place once more! The little
church; God's acre at Its side; to
stand on the hill at Verranch and look
cut a last time over the beautiful
vale toward the Mount!” Briefly he
paused. “Yet I am glad I yielded to
the temptation; otherwise should I
not have met your old servant, San
chez; who told me all—how you had
long been looking for me, and ar
ranged cur meeting for that day—on
the island of Casque!”
“But not,” the young man’s de
meanor at once became intent; his
eyes gleamed with sudden fierce
lights, “for what followed!”
The priest sighed. “Shall I ever
forget it? The terrible night, the
troep-ship, the killed and wounded.
And the poor fellows taken prison
ers! I can not but think of them and
their fate. What will it be?”
The other did not answer; only im
patiently moved his injured arm and,
regarding him, the down-turned, dark
countenance, the knit brows, quickly
the priest changed the subject of con
versation.
in tne large room some one Degan
to play, and before the Are, where
now the birds were turning and the
serving-lad, with a long spoon was
basting, the dark-browed girl started
to dance. At the side of the hearth
old Pierre smoked stolidly, gazed at
the coals, and dreamed—perhaps of
the past, and dangers he had himself
encountered, or of the present, and his
ships scattered—where?—on profit
able, if precarious errands. Somberly,
in no freer mood than on the occasion
cf their first visit to the inn, the crew
looked on; but a tall, savage-appear
ing islander soon matched her step;
a second took his place; from one
partner to another she passed—wild,
reckless men whose touch she did
not shun; yet it might have been no
ticed her eyes turned often, through
wreaths of smoke, mist-like in the
glare and glimmer of dips and torches,
toward the Black Seigneur.
Why—her gaze seemed to say—did
he not join them, instead of sitting
there with a priest? She whirled to
the threshold; her flushed face looked
in. “Are you saying a mass for the
souls of your men who were cap
tured?”
“I see,” he returned quietly, “you
have been gossiping."
“A woman’s privilege!” she flashed
back. “But how did it happen? And
not only your arm,” more sharply re
garding him, “but your head! I fancy
if I were to push back a few locks of
that thick hair I should discover—it
must have been a pretty blow you got,
my Seigneur Solitude!” He made no
reply and she went on. “You, who I
thought were never beaten! By a
mere handful of troops, too! Did you
have to run away very fast ? If I were
a man—”
“Your tongue would be less sharp,”
he answered coolly, the black eyes in
different.
“Much you care for my tongue!"
she retorted.
“No?”
,“No!” she returned mockingly, when
above the djn of voices, the crackling
of the fire, and the wild moaning of
the wind In the chimney, a low, but
distinct and prolonged call was heard
—from somewhere without, below.
“What is that?” Quickly Nanette
turned; superstitious, after the fashion
of most of her people, a little of the
color left her cheek. Again was it
wafted to them, nearer, plainer! "The
voices of dead men from the sea!”
"More like so'me one on the steps
who would like to get in—some fisher
man who has just got to shore!” said
old Pierre Laroche, waking up and
emptying his pipe. “Throw open the
doer. The stones are slippery—the
night dark—”
One of the crew obeyed, and, as the
wind entered sharply, and the lights
flickered and grew dim, there half
staggered, half rushed from the
gloom, the figure of a man, wild, wet,
whose clothes were torn and whose
face was freshly cut and marked with
many livid signs of violence.
“Sanchez!” From his place the
Black Seigneur rose.
The others looked around wonder
ingly; some with rough pity. "What’s
the matter, man?” said one. “You
look as if you had had a bad fall.”
“Fall!” Standing in the center of
the reem, where he had come to a
sudden step, the man gazed, bewil
dered, resentful, about him; then
above the circle of questioning faces,
his uncertain look lifted; caught and
remained fixed on that of the Black
Seigneur. “Fall?” he repeated, articu
lating with difficulty. “No! I had—
r.o falb—but I will speak—with my
master—alone!”
CHAPTER XIII.
The Seething of the Sea.
“ ‘I have concluded to deal lenient
ly with you,’ said the Governor; ‘set
you free!’ I could not believe.”
Alone In the little chamber, the
door of which now was closed, shut
ting them from sight of the company
in the general eating and drinking
room adjoining, Sanchez and the Black
Seigneur sat together. Before them
the viands that had been placed on
the table were untouched; the filled
glasses^ un tasted.. As he spoke, the
Can Een'C"fofwffrd, fils wofcRTilliJoTfit
ed; his eyes gleaming.
“ 'But,’ the Governor added, ‘the
criminal must be taught not to for
get;’ then turned to his soldiers. 'Beat
me this fellow from the Mount!’ he
commanded.”
“What!” The fclcftd sprang to the
dark face of the listener; he half
started from his chair.
"And they did! A merry chase,
down the streets, across the sands! I,
an old soldier!” His voice choked.
“Beaten like a dog!”
For some moments the young man
looked at him; then again sank buck;
Etared straight ahead. Without, the
laughter and harsh' voices of the is
landers had become louder; within the
little chamber, the only sound now
was the hard, persistent ticking of
the clock on the shelf.
“But how,” at length Desaurac
made a movement, “did he—”
“Learn!" violently. “The way I
tcld you he would!"
“You mean—”
"That I was betrayed and you were
—by the Lady Eliee—”
“Impossible!” the Black Seigneur
exclaimed with sudden violence.
“Because she has a pretty face!"
sneered the other.
"Silence! Or—"
“That is it!” The servant’s voice
rose stridently. “Beaten at one end,
threatened at the other!”
The arm the young man had reached
out fell to his side. “Hush! You’re
mad; you don’t know what you’re say
ing!”
“And you did not know what you
were doing! Oh, I dare say it— I tell
you now I little liked the task of tak
ing her back; expecting some sort of
treachery, and, when it came, w’as not
surprised! Any more than, w’hen they
had brought me before the Governor,
I saw’ her at the cloister—watching,
hiding—”
“Hiding!”
"Behind the coping to listen when
he, her father, was questioning me!
And, when I looked up and caught
her, she walked out—to show me I
might as well confess!”
“She did that?”
“Then tried to cozen me into be
lieving it was not through her," went
on the man bitterly, as if speaking to
himself. “But I know the lying blood
—none better—and when she saw it
w;as no use,” he paused and looked up,
the marks of the stripes on his face
seeming suddenly to burn and grow
livid, “she acknowledged it to my
face! ‘I won’t deny.’ Those were her
words! And when she left the place,
she turned around to look back at
me—and laugh—”
“You are not mistaken?”
“Perhaps,” said the man, a venom
ous light in his ^obstinate eyes, “It
was all a fancy; Ob—I am lying!”
Outside, the wind, blowing sharper,
whistled about the eaves, beat at the
window and shook the blinds angrily;
far below, a steady monotone to those
other sounds, could be heard the rush
and breaking of the surf.
"No More, l Say!”
“Why did I cross myself that day
on the island, when I saw her—behind
you ?” Sanches’s taciturnity—the
reticence of years—suddenly burst its
bonds. “Because she made me think
of the former lady of the Mount—the
Governor’s wife—who betrayed the
Seigneur, your father! I promised
him to keep the secret—he would
have it, for the sake of the lady; but
now—to you! Your father was
stabbed at the foot of the Mount by
the Governor!—”
“Stabbed! By him!"
“It was given out,” sourly, "by
rogues—again to shield her!"
"But—”
“That same day he had a letter—
from her. As evening fell he walked
near the Mount—was followed by the
Governor, who sprang, struck in the
back and left him for dead! I' found
him and took him home. But before
he recovered, it was reported my lady
had died—”
"How?”
“I know not: a uunishment. per
haps! She was always delicate—or
liked to be considered such—a white
faced, pretty, smiling thing whose
beauty and treachery this other one,
the daughter, inherits. It was the
ghost of heiself looking over your
shoulder that day on the island, with
tbe same bright, perfidious eyes—”
“Enough!” Angrily tbe Black Seig
neur brought down his hand. “I will
hear no more?"
"Because she has caught your
fancy! Because you—”
“No more, I say! Think you I
would not avenge your wrongs at
once, were it possible? That I would
not strike for you, on the instant? But
now? My hands are tied. Another
matter—of life, or death—presses
first!"
Sanchez looked at him quickly; said
no more; between them, the silenoe
grew. The servant was the first to
move; turning to the table, he began
to eat; at first mechanically; after
ward faster, with the ravenous seat of
one who has not tasted food for many
hours. The other, for his part, showed
no immediate desire to disturb that
occupation; for some time waited; and
it was not until the servant stopped,
reached out hta arm for a glass,. to
drink, that the young man again
spoke.
“The palace? Tbe plan of the
Mount f Did you notice? Tell me
scmething of It—how it is laid out—"
Sanchez swallowed; set down the
glass hard. “Yes, yes! 1 saw much
—a great deal!” he answered with
eager zest. “Oh, I kept my eyes open,
although I seemed not to, and was
mindful of learning all I could!”
“Here!” From his pocket the young
man took a notebook; pencil. “Set It
dcwn; everything! I know something,
already, from the old monks—the
rough diagrams In their books. You
entered where? Take the pencil
and—”
The minutes passed and still San
chez traced; seemed almost to forget
his injuries in his i~ferest in the la
bor. Plan after plan was made; torn
ap; one finally remained In the hand
of the Black Seigneur.
“You think—" Anxiously the serv
ant watched his master’s face; but the
latter, straight, erect, with keen eyes
fixed, did not answer.
“You think—" again began the man
when the ancient time-piece, beating
harshly the hour, interrupted.
"Eleven o'clpefc.! High tide!” The
Flack Seigneur pushed back his chair
and rose.
“Good!” Sanchez’s alacrity indi
cated a quick comprehension of what
the movement portended.
“You—had better remain here!”
shortly.
“Me’” a: id the servant with a harsh
laugh “JIe?“
“Have you not had enough of my
family—my servic;?’’ the young Seig
neur demanded bitterly.
"Bah!” muttered the other. “The
dog that’s beaten springs at the
chance to bite! You go to rescue
your comrades. 1—will go with you!”
“In which case, death—not ven
geance—will moat likely be your re
ward!”
"I care not!” stubbornly
A moment the Black Seigneur re
garded him; then made a gesture.
“Well, have your way!” He lis
tened. “The wind is in the west.”
“A little south of west,” answered
the man
“A rough night for your boat to
have crossed!”
“Oh, I was bound to come! And
If you hadn’t been here, I’d have gone
on, on—till I found you—”
The hand of the young man touched
the other’s shoulder. “Come!” he
said, and threw open the door.
"You are going in the storm?” The
girl, Nanette, intercepted them.
The Black Seigneur nodded shortly.
“It must be an important mission to
take you to sea on such a night. Why
don’t you stay where It’s warm and
comfortable? Or,” with a laugh, “at
least until Monsieur Gabarie,” indi
cating the corpulent figure Intrenched
behind a barricade of dishes and bot
tles on a small table near the fire,
“has finished the little puppet play he
Is writing."
It Is finished! As he spoke, the
poet rose. ‘‘I had but written ‘curtain’
when you spoke. Your wine, fair Na
nette, hath a rarely inspiring quality!”
"Oh, I care not for your compli
ments!” she returned. ‘‘Your capi
talne," again studying the Black Seig
neur with dark sedulous eyes, “has
not found it so much to his liking!
He has neither asked for more, nor
drunk what he ordered; and now
would venture out—■"
Unmindful of her words the young
man called to old Pierre.
"Well,” she went cn, throwing back
her head, "if you lose your ship, come
to me, and—I’ll see you have an
other!"
Above in his chamber at the inn,
not long thereafter, the priest, looking
out of the window, saw a line of men
file down the narrow stairs; embark
in the small boats from the sheltered
nook where they lay, and later, in the
light of the moon, breaking from be
tween scudding clouds and angry va
pors, jt ship that got under way—
glided like a phantom craft from the
heaven and set seaward through the
foam.
CHAPTER XIV.
The Pilgrimage.
From far and near the peasants and
the people of the towns and villages,
joined in the customary annual de
scent upon—or ascent to—the Mount.
None was too poor, few too miserable,
to undertake the journey. A pilgrim
age, was the occasion called; but al
though certain religious ceremonies
were duly observed and entered into
by some with fanatical warmth, many
there were, who, obliged to pay tithes,
rourished the onerous recollection of
Ae enforced ‘'ecclesiastical tentn" to
the exclusion of any great desire to
avail themselves of the compensating
privilege of beholding and bowing be
fore the sacred relics. To these recal
citrant spirits, license and a rough
sort of merrymaking became the or
der of the hour.
Early in the morning the multitude
began to arrive—in every manner of
dilapidated vehicle, astride starved
looking donkeys and bony horses, or
on foot. Many who bad camped out
the night before, by wayside or in
forest, brought with them certain
scanty provisions and a kitchen pot
in which to boil thin soup, or some
poor makeshift mess; others came
empty-handed, “pilgrims" out at the i
elbow and shoeless, trusting to fortune
for their sustenance, and looking cap
able even of having poached in one of
the wide forests they had traversed,
despite a penalty, severe and dispro
portionate to the offense, for laying
hand on any lord’s wild birds or rab
bits.
Savage men; sodden men—good,
bad and indifferent! Like ants throng
ing about the hill, they straightway
streamed to the Mount; took posses
sion of It, or as much as lay open to
them; for around the top, chosen
abode of the Governor, extended a
wall; grim, dark and ominous; brist
ling with holes which seemed to look 1
\lackly down; to watch, to listen and
to frown. Without thar pretentious
line of encircling masonry, the usual
din, accompaniment to the day and
the presence of so many people, pre
vailed; within, reigned silence, a sol
emi hush, unbroken by even a sent!
nel's tread.
“I shall be glad when it’s all over!'
Standing at the window of her chain
her the Lady Eliae had passed in
dressing to look out upon the throng
—a thousand dots upon the sand, dark j
moving masses in the narrow by
ways* and motionless ones near thr 1
temporary altars. ,
■ ]
Th* Governor Himself Appeared.
"Ob', my ’Lady!” Her companion,
and former nurse, a woman about
fifty years of age, ventured this mild
expostulation.
"There, Marie! You can go!"
"Yes, your Ladyship—’*
"One moment!’* Hie slender figure
turned. "This fastening—" *“
In an instant the woman was by her
side.
“Have you heard anything more
about the prisoners, Marie?" abrupt
ly. “Those who were tried, I mean?"
"Nothing—only Beppo said they are
to be banged day after tomorrow—
when the pilgrimage is over.”
“Day after tomorrow!" The brown
eyes looked hard and bright; the
small white teeth pressed her lip.
"And the man my fa—the Governor
had—whipped from the Mount—you
have heard nothing more of him—
where he has gone?’’
"No, my Lady; he seems to have
disappeared completely; fled this coun
try, perhaps, for those islands where
so many like him," half bitterly, "have
gone before!”
The girl looked up in a preoccupied
manner “Poor_MarieJ_ Your only sis
tWdTed there, flflEPf'ihe?”
"Yes, my Hdy; I never saw 1 r
after ahe left France with her hi::
band and baby girl. He was an un
patriotic fellow-*-PIerre Laroche!”
"No doubt,” said the Governor's
daughter absently, as the other pr
pared to leave the room.
Alone, the girl remained for several
moments motionless before the great
Venetian mirror; then mechanicall'’,
hardly looking at the reflection the
glass threw back at her, she finish'd
her toilet. This task acconiplishe!.
still she stood with brows closely
drawn; afar the flute-like voices of
the choir-boys arose from differs:.!
parts of the Mount, but she did not
seem to hear them; made a sudden
quick gesture and walked toward the
door in the manner of one who has
arrived at some resolution.
Passing down a corridor, she
reached an arched opening whose mt.
sive door swung easily to her touch,
and let herself out by a private waj.
which had once been the ancient ab
bot’s way, to an isolated corner of u
small secluded platform. From this
point a stairway led up to a passage
spanning a great gulf. Below' and
aside, where the red-tiled houses clung
to the steep slope of the rock, flut
tered many flags; yet the girl did not
pause either to contemplate or ad
mire. Only when her glance passed
seaward and rested on the far-away
ocean’s rim of light, did she stop for
an instant—mid-way on the bridge—
then, compressing her lips, moved on
the faster; down the incline on the
other side; up winding stairs between
giant columns, reaching, at length,
that bright and grateful opening, the
cloister. With an unvarying air of
resolution she stepped forward;
looked In; the place was empty—si
lent save for the tinkling of the tiny
fountain in the center.
“Are Jou looking for some one, my
Lady?”
The voice was that of Beppo, who
was regarding her from an angle in
the cloister walk.
"I am looking for his Excellency. I
suppose he is—_
To be Continued
We are showing license pictures, Come and
ee them they are good.
Change of Program every Tuesday Thursday and Saturday
Don’t miss any of these pictures,
This is always an entertaining and instructive show
A. O. USE
► J. G. PAGELER I
Auctioneer
Loup City, - - Nebraska
I will call sales in any part of Sherman County.
Phone or write, Jack Pageler Loup City, Nebraska.
[Travel in Comfort to California
* There are many routes to select from, each having special features.
I Arrange your trip to California or points intermediate so that y ou
pcan go over one route and return by way of another, traveling all the ,
»way over the lines of the
* (
I Union-Southern Pacific ,
Every inch of main line is protected by Automatic |
[Electric Block Safety Signals, \
In addition, two-thirds of the distance to Ogden is double tracked *
[ The above features—Automatic Electric Block Safety Signals and l
heavy double track, together with its dustless gravel roadbed, fast;
and splendidly equipped electric lighted trains, direct route and ex- <
cellent dining cars—have given to these lines the title <
“Standard Route of the West” l
See Denver, Ogden, Salt Lake City and many other popnlar touris *
points enroute. ,
For literature and information relative to diverse routes, fares. *
stopovers, side trips, etc., call on or adress (
1
J. W. Collipriest, Agent, 51
Loup City, Neb. ^
Rich Fertile Farm Lands
For Sale by
The Federal Land and Securities Co.
Of Cheyenne, Wyo
Situated in southeast Wyoming near the foothills o
;he mountains, west of the Sand hills of Nebraska; out o
•each of the hot winds. Fertile soil, free from alkali and
jumbo, clay subsoil, good water, climate enexcelled. Sold
>n crop payment plan. Write the Federa, Land and Se
surities Co., 100 w 17th St,, Cheyenne, Wyo., for particu
an. ,
