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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 30, 1915)
HI MT1T cm ^oiADLES Npaixr buck AUTHOR of "TfieCALL ofHicCUMDERLAHDS'’ illustrations CD Rhodes 3g&. QOPY/i/GffT or \ CHML£l3 • MEVfLLE *• — BITCH | — CHAPTER XXII—Continued. —11— Jim Fletcher, a mountain man who had for years drifted between Tribula tion and Winchester trading in cattle and timber, made a Journey through the hills that spring, and was every where received as “home folks.” For him there were no bars of distrust, and he was able for that reason to buy land right and left. Though he had paid for it a price above the average, it v.as a price far below the value of the coal and timber it contained— and Jim had picked his land. Anse Havey and his associates knew that Jim Fletcher had been subsidized; that the money he spent so lavishly was not his own money; and that he came as a stalking-horse, but they did not know that he had been to Louis ville and had conferred there with Mr. Trevor. Neither did they know at once that he had visited the cabins of every malcontent among both the for mer tactions, and that he was a mis chiefmaker adroitly laying here in the hills the foundations for a new feud. Jim had a bland tongue and a per suasive manner, and he talked to the mountain men in their own speech, but he was none the less the advance agent of the new enemy from down below: the personal fulfillment of Juanita’s prophecy to Roger Malcolm. Juanita did not realize how much she was leaning on the strength of Anse Havey, how she depended on him for counsel and encouragement, which he gave not in behalf of the school, but because he was the school teacher's slave. She saw the little hospital rise on the hill and thought of what it would do, and she believed that Anse Havey must be, in his heart, converted, even though his mountain obstinacy would not let him say so. Then, while the hillsides were joy ous with spring, came a squad of lads with transit and chain, who began running a tentative line through the land that Jim Fletcher had bought. Anse Havey watched them grimly with folded arms, but said no word until they reached the boundary of his own place. There he met them at the border. “Boys,” he said, "ye musn't cross that fence. This is my land, an’ I for bids ye.” Their foreman argued. “We only want to take the measure ments necessary to complete our line, Mr. Havey. We won’t work anv in jury.” Anse shook his head. “Come in, boys, an’ eat with me an’ make yourselves at home,” he told them, “but leave your tools outside.” Men from the house patrolled the boundary with rifles and the young men were forced to turn back. I But later they drew near the house of old Bob McGreegor, and he, steal ing down to the place in the thicket of rhododendron, saw them perilously near the trickling stream which even Ihen bore on its surface little kernels of yellow corn. Deeply and violently old Bob swore as he drank from bis little blue keg, and when one day he saw them again he asked counsel of no man. He went down and crept close through the laurel, and when his old rifle spoke a schoolboy from the Blue Grass fell dead among the rocks of the water course. After that death, the first murder of an innocent outsider, the war which Anse Havey had so long foreseen broke furiously and brought the or ders of upland and lowland to the grip of bitter animosity. Old McGreegor’s victim had been young Roy Calvin, the son of Judge Calvin of Lexington, and the name of Calvin in central Kentucky was one associated with the state’s best tra ditions. It had run in a strong, bright thread through the pattern of Kentucky’s achievements, and when news of the wanton assassination came home, the Btate awoke to a shock of horror. The infamy of the hills was screamed in echo to the mourning, and the name of Bad Anse Havey was once more printed in large type. The men whose capital sought to wrest profit from the hills, and whose employee had been slain, were quick to take advantage of this hue and cry of calumny. They hurled themselves into the fight for gaining possession of coveted land and were not particular as to methods. Jim Fletcher came and went con stantly between the lowlands and highlands. He was all things to all men, and in the hills he cursed the lowlander, but in the lowland he cursed the hills. Milt and Jeb and Anse rode constantly from cabin to cabin in their efforts to circumvent the adroit schemes of the mountain Judas who had sold his soul to the lowland syndicate. Fletcher sought a foothold for capi tal to pierce fields acquired at the price of undeveloped land and then to take the profit of development. Anse sought to hold title until the sales could be on a fairer basis, and so the issue was made up. Capitalists, like Malcolm, who sat in directors’ rooms launching a legiti mate enterprise, had no actual knowl edge of the Instrumentalities being employed on the real battlefield. Law yers tried condemnation suits with in different success, and then reached out their hands for a new weapon. Back in the old days, when Ken tucky was not a state but a county, land patents had been granted by Virginia to men who had never claimed their property. For two hun dred years other men who settled as pioneers had held undisturbed posses sion, they and their children’s chil dren. Now into the courts piled multi tudinous suits of eviction in the names of plaintiffs whose eyes had never seen the broken skyline of the Cum berlands. Their purpose was deceit, since it sought to drag through long and costly litigation pauper landhold ers and to impose such a galling bur den upon their property as should drive them to terms of surrender. Men and women who owned, or thought they owned, a log shack and a tilting cornfield found themselves fac ing a new and bewildering crisis. Their untaught minds brooded and they talked violently of holding by title of rifle what their fathers had wrested from nature, what they had tended with 3weat and endless toil. But Anse Havey and Milt McBriar knew that the day was at hand when the rifle would no longer serve. They employed lawyers fitted to meet those other lawyers and give them battle in the courts, and these lawyers were paid by Anse Havey and Milt Mc Briar. The two stood stanchly together as a buffer between their almost help less people and the encroaching ten tacles of the new octopus, while Juan ita, looking on at the forming of the battlelines, was tom with anxiety. In Bad Anse Havey the combination of interests recognized its really most formidable foe. In the mountain phrase, he must be “man-powered out en ther way.” And there were still men in the hills who, if other means failed, would sell the service of their "rifle-guns” for money. With such as these it became the care of certain supernumeraries to es tablish an understanding. In the last election a thing had happened which had not for many years before hap pened in Kentucky—a change of par ties had swept from power in Frank fort the administration which owed loyalty to Havey influences. Bad Anse Havey was indicted as an accessory to the murder of young Cal vin and he would be tried, not in Peril, but in the Blue Grass. The prosecu tion would be able to show that he had warned the surveyors off his own place and had picketed his fence line with riflemen. They would be able to show that he was the forefront of the fight against innovation and that lesser mountain men followed his counsel blindly and regarded his word as law. But, more than that, the jurors who passed on his question of life and death would be drawn from a com munity which knew him only by his newspaper-made reputation. So it was not long before Anse Havey lay in a cell in the Winchester jail. He had been denied bond and fronted a dreary prespect. When the trial of Anse Havey be gan there was one spirit in the land. Here was an exponent of the unjusti fiable system of murder from ambush. In the cemetery at Lexington, where sleep the founders of the western em pire, lay a boy whose life had just be gun in all the blossom and sunshine of promise—and who had done no wrong. The special term of the court had brought to Winchester a throng of farmer folk and onlookers. Their horses stood hitched at the racks about the square when the sherifT led Anse Havey from the jail to the old building where he was to face his ac cusers and the judges who sat on the bench and in the jury box. He took his seat with his counsel at his elbow and listened to the pre liminary formalities of impaneling a jury. His face told nothing, but as man after man was excused because he had formed an opinion, he read lit tle that was hopeful in the outlook. He calmly beard perjured witnesses from his own country testify that he had approached them, offering bribes for the killing of young Calvin which they had righteously refused. He knew that these men had been bought by Jim Fletcher and that they swore for the hire of syndicate money, but he only waited patiently for the defense to open. He saw the scowl on the faces in the Jury box deepen into con viction as witness after witness took the stand against him, and he saw the faces in the body of the room mirror that scowl. Then the prosecution rested, and as a few of its perjuries were punctured, the faces in the box lightened their scowl a little—but very little. The tide had set against him, and he knew it Unless one of those strangely psycho logical things should occur which sweep juries suddenly from their moorings of fixed opinion, he must be the sacrifice to Blue Grass wrath, and on the list of witnesses under the hand of his attorney there were only a few names left—pitifully few. Then Anse Havey saw his chief counsel set his jaw, as he had a tric>< of setting it when he faced a forlorn hope, and throw the list of names aside as something worthless. As the lawyer spoke Anse Havey's face for the first time lost its immobility and showed amazement. He bent forward, wondering if his ears had not tricked him. His attorneys had not consult ed him as to this step. "Mr. Sheriff,” commanded the law yer for the defense, "call Miss Juanita Holland to the stand.” CHAPTER XXIII. If in the mountains there was one person of whom the Blue Grass knew with favor, it was Juanita Holland. She had worked quietly and without any blare of trumpets. Her efforts had never been advertised, but the thing she was trying to do was too unusual a thing to have escaped public no tice and public laudation. That she was spending her life and her own large fortune in a manner of self-sacri fice and hardship was a thing of which the state had been duly apprised. She, at least, would stand acquitted of feudal passion. She stood as a lone fighter for the spirit of all that was best and most unselfish in Kentucky ideals and the ideals of civilization. If she chose to come now as a wit ness for Anse Havey, she should have a respectful hearing. The pris oner bent forward and fixed eyes blaz ing with excitement on the door of the witness room. He saw it open and saw her pause there, pale and rather perplexed, then she came steadily to the witness stand and asked: "Do l sit here?” The man had known her always in the calico and gingham of the moun tains. This seemed a different wom an who took her seat and raised her hand to be sworn. She was infinitely more beautiful he thought, in the ha biliments of her own world. She seemed a queen who had waived her regal prerogatives and come into this mean courtroom in his behalf. His heart leaped into tumult. He would not hrve asked her to come; would not have permitted her to sub mit to the heckling of the prosecutor, whose face was already drawing into When His Old Rifle Spoke a Schoolboy From the Blue Grass Fell Dead. a vindictive frown, had he known. She had come, however, anyway—perhaps, after all, she cared! If so. it was a revelation worth hanging for. Then he heard her voice low and musically pitched in answer to ques tions. “I have known Mr. Havey,” she said quietly, “ever since I went to the mountains. He has helped me in my work and has been an advocate of peace wherever peace could be had with honor.” At the end of each answer the com monwealth’s attorney was on his feet with quickly snapped objections. Anse Havey’s heart sank. He knew this man's reputation for bullying wit nesses, and he had never seen a wom an who had come through the ordeal unshaken. Yet slowly the anxiety on his face gave way to a smile of in finite admiration. Juanita Holland's quiet dignity made the testy wrath of the state’s lawyer seem futile and peevish. The defendant saw the subtle change of expression on the faces of the jury. He saw them shifting their sympathy from the lawyer to the wom an, and the lawyer saw it, too. They kept her there, grilling her with all the tactics known to artful barristers for an unconscionable length of time, but she was still serene and uncon fused. “By heaven!” exclaimed Anse Havey to himself, as he leaned forward, “she’s makin’ fools of ’em all—an’ she’s doin’ it for me!” Even the judge, whose face had been sternly set against the defense, shifted in his chair and his expression softened. The commonwealth’s attor ney rose and walked forward, and Anse Havey clenched his hands under the table, while his fingers itched to seize the tormentor’s throat. “You don’t know that Anse Havey didn’t incite this murder. You only choose to think so. Isn’t that a fact?” stormed the prosecutor. “I know that Anse Havey ts in capable of it,” was the tranquil retort. “How do you know that?” “I know him.” “Who procured your presence in this courtroom as a defense witness?" Each interrogation came with rising spleen and accusation of tone. “I asked to be allowed to come.” “Why?* “Because 1 know that back of this prosecution lies the trickery of inter ests seeking to dispose of Anse Havey so that they may plunder his people." The lawyer wheeled on the Judge. "1 must ask your honor to admon ish this witness against such false and improper charges—or to punish her for contempt,” he blazed furiously. But the judge spoke without great severity as he cautioned: "Yes, the witness must not seek to imply mo tives to the prosecution." The attorney took another step for ward with a malicious smile. He paused that the next question and its answer might fall on the emphasis of a momentary silence. Then he point ed a finger toward the girl, with the manner of one branding a false wit ness, and demanded: “Is there any sentimental attach ment between you and this defendant, Anse Havey?” There was a moment's dead silence in the courtroom, and Anse saw Jua nita’s face go white. Then he saw her finger nails whiten as they lay In her lap and a sudden flush spread to her face. She looked toward the judge, and at once the lawyer for the defense was on his feet with the old objection: “The question is irrelevant.” Then, while counsel tilted with each other, the girl drew a long breath, and the man whose life was in the balance turned pale, too. not because of this, but because the woman he loved had been asked the question which was more to him than life and death—a question he had never dared to ask himself. “I think,” ruled the court, “the ques tion is relevant as going to prove the credibility of the witness.” So she must answer. The prisoner's finger nails bit into his palms arid he smothered a low oath between his clenched teeth, but Juanita Holland only looked at the cross-examiner with a clear-eyed and serene glance of scorn under which he seemed to shrivel. She replied with the dignity of a young queen who can afford to ignore insults from the gut ter. “None whatever.” ' The defendant sat back in his chair and the smile left bis lips as though he had been struck by a thunderbolt. He knew that his case was won, and yet as he saw her leave the witness stand and the courtroom, he felt sicker at heart than he had felt since he could remember. He would almost have preferred condemnation with the hope against hope left somewhere leep in his heart that there slept in hers an echo to his unuttered love. The question he had never dared to isk she had answered—answered un ler oath, and liberty seemed now a rery barren gift. When he had been acquitted and was going out he saw a figure in con sultation with the prosecutor—a figure which had not been inside the doors luring the trial. It was Mr. Trevor of Louisville and he was testily saying: ‘Oh, well, there are more ways of killing a cat than by choking it with butter." Anse Havey did not require the in :erpretation of an oracle for that cryptic comment. He knew that the effort to dispose of him would not end with his acquittal. • •••••• Juanita was going away to enlist her staff of teachers and arrange for the equipment of the little hospital, and Anse did not tell her of his inse curity. “You’ll promise to be very careful while I’m gone, won't you?” she de manded, as they sat together the night before she left. “I’ll try to last till you get back.” he smiled. He was sitting with a pipe in his hand—a pipe which had gone out and been forgotten. In the darkness of the porch every thing was vague but herself. She seemed to him to be luminous by some light of her own. She was a very wonderful and desirable star shining far out of reach of his world. Suddenly she laughed, and he asked: “What is it?" “1 was just thinking what a fool I was when I came here,” she answered. ‘Did you know that I brought a piano with me as far as Peril? It’s been there over a year.” “A piano!” he echoed, then they both laughed. “I might as well have tried to bring along the Philadelphia city hall," she admitted. “Just the same, there have been times when it would have meant a lot to me, an awful lot, if I could have had that piano. I don’t know whether music means so much to you, but to me—” “I know," he broke in. “I some times ’low that life ain’t much else ex cept the summin’ up of the things a feller dreams. Music is like dreams —it makes dreams. Yes, I know some thin’ about that.” She went away and, though she was not long gone, her absence seemed in terminable to Anse Havey. He met her at the train on her return with a starved idolatry in his eyes, and to gether they rode back across the ridge. But when she entered the building which had been the first schoolhouse the man drew back a step or two and witched as surreptitiously as a boy who has in due secrecy planned a sur prise. She went in and then suddenly halt ed and stood near the threshold in amazement. Her eyes began to dance and she gave a little gasp of delight. There against one wall stood her piano. She turned to him, deeply moved, and after the first flush of delight her eyes were misty. “I wonder how I am ever going to thank yon—for everything," she salt softly But Bad Anse Havey only answerec in an embarrassed voice: "I reckon ii might be a little jingly, so I had a fel ler come up from Lexington and turn it up.” She went over and struck a chord then she came back and laid a hanc on his coat sleeve. “I'm not going to try to thank yoi at all—now,” she said. “But you gc home and come back this evening anc we’ll have a little party, just you and I—with music.” “Good-by,” he said. "I reckon yt haven’t noticed it—but my rifle’s standin’ there in your rack." It was a night of starlight, with just a sickle moon overhead and the music of the whippoorwills in the air, when Anse presented himself again at the school. He knew that he must break off these visits because while she had been away he had, taken due account ing of himself and recognized that the poignant pain of locked lips would drive him beyond control. He could no longer endure “the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin.” Now the sight of her set him into a palpitating fever and a burning madness. He would invent some excuse tonight and go away. Then he came to the open door and stood on the threshold transfixed by the sight which greeted his eyes. His hat dropped to the floor and lay there. He thought he knew Juanita. Now he suddenly realized that the real Juanita he had never seen before, and as he looked at her he felt infinitely far away from her. He was a very dim, faint star in apogee. She sat with her back turned and her fingers straying over the keys of the piano—and she was in evening dress! The shaded lamp shone softly on ivory shoulders and a string of pearls glistened at her throat. Around her slim figure the soft folds of her gown fell like gossamer draperies and, to his eyes, she was utterly and flaw lessly beautiful. She had followed a whim that night and “dressed up” to surprise him. Sbte had promised him a party and meant to receive him with as much prepara tion as she would have made for roy alty. But to him it was only a dec laration of the difference between them, emphasizi^; how unattainable she was; how unthinkably remote from him own rough world. men, as sue uearu uis sieps ana rose, she was disappointed because in his face, instead of pleasure, she read only a tumult whose dominant note was distress. “Don’t you like me?” she asked, as she gave him her hand and smiled up at him. “Like you!” he burst out, then he caught himself with something like a gasp. “Yes,” he said dully, “I like you.” For a while she played and sang, and then they went out to the porch, where she sank down in the barrel stave hammock which hung there and he sat in a split-bottom chair by her side. He sat very moody and silent, his bands resting on bis knees, trying to repress what he could not long hope to keep under. She seemed oblivious to his deep ab straction. for she was humming some air low. almost under her breath. But at last she sat up and laughed a silvery and subdued yet happy little laugh. She stretched her arms above her head. "It’s good to be back, Anse,” she said softly. "I’ve missed you—lots.” He dared not tell her how he had missed her. and he did not recognize the new note in her voice—the heart note. There was a strange silence be tween them, and as they sat, so close that each could almost feel the other’s breath, their eyes met and held in a locked gaze. Slowly, as though drawn by some occult power over which he held no control, the man bent a little nearer, a little nearer. Slowly the girl’s eyes dilated, and then, with no word, she suddenly gave a low exclamation, half gasp, half appeal, all inarticulate, and both hands went groping out toward him. With something almost like a cry, the man was on his knees by the ham mock and both his arms were around her and her head was on his shoulder. Then he was kissing her cheeks and lips, and into his soul was coming a sudden discovery with the softness and coolness of the flesh his lips touched. It lasted only a moment, then she pushed him back gently and rose, while one bare arm went gropingly across her face and the other hand went out to the porch post for sup port. In a voice low and broken she said: “You must go!” “No!” he exclaimed, and took a step toward her, but she retreated a little and shook her head. "Yes, dear—please,” she almost whispered, and the man bowed in ac quiescence. “Good night,” he said gravely, and picking up bis hat, he started across the ridge. But now there were no ghosts in his life, for all the way over that rough trail he was looking up at the stars and repeating incredulously over and over to himself: “She loves me!” CHAPTER XXIV. In a small room over the post office in Peril an attorney, whose profes sional success had always been pre carious, received those few clients who came to him for consultation. The lawyer’s name was Walter Hackley, but he was better known as Clayheel Hackley, because he never wore socks and his bare ankles were tanned to the hue of river-bank mud. Oates Ripened in Incubator. An Arizona scientist has demon strated that dates can be ripened in an Incubator to a perfection that ri vals the best African fruit Inside Information. Man’s Eden without Eve would be a dirty place, full of tobacco smoke.— Exchange. When Human Growth Stops. Human beings generally stop grow ing at the age of eighteen. The Worst of It "The worst of coaxing people to sing,” said Gaunt N. Grimm, "is that they usually yield to the earnest so licitation of their friends and accept the nomination.”—Judge. Some Men’s Greatness. The superiority of some men is merely local; they are great because their associates are little. Providence, R. L, has 1,000 jitney busses in operation Quebec. The fortifications of Quebec are ob solete as fortifications, but remain as picturesque additions to the beauty and interest of “The Gibraltar of Amer ica.” The fortifications standing con sist of walls and a citadel built in 1823-1832 at a cost of over seven .mil lion pounds. Between 1865 and 1871 three forts were built on the Levis side of the river, but were not armed or manned. The citadel occupies more than forty acres. No trace of the old French fortifications remains. Blind Swimmer 8aves Chum. Frank VV. Forester, a blind student at the University of California, res cued a blind freshman from drown ing in the college swimming pool. The two had been daring each other to plunge from the high diving board. Forester’s companion dived and hit the water in such a manner that he was stunned. Forester, divining that something was wrong, jumped in and succeeded in getting his friend ashore, where he administered first aid with su Made Some Difference. "I don’t believe a lot of stories they tell about you,” said the sympathetic friend. “H’m!” mused Senator Sor ghum. “Which don’t you believe? The good ones or the bad ones?”—Wash ington Star. Old Habit. “I see where some men are organ izing parties opposed to woman suf frage.” “Naturally, men are more inter ested in the ante*-'* • ■ - . I * - His features were wizened and Ms eyes shifty. He was a coward and an intriguer by nature and inclina tion. It was logical enough that when the verdict of the director's table that Bad Anse Havey was a nuisance fil tered down the line the persons seek ing native methods for abating the nuisance should come to Claybeel Hackley One day in August this attorney at law. together with Jim Fletcher aDd a tricky youth who enjoyed the distinc tion of holding office as telegraph op erator at the Peril station, caucused together in Hackley’s dingy room. In the death of Bad Anse Havey this trio saw a Joint advantage, since the abating of such a nuisance would not go unrewarded. "Gentlemen,” said the attorney, his wizened face working nervously, “this business has need to be expeditious Gentlemen—it requires, In its nature, to be expeditious. A few more fail ures and we are done for.” “Well, tell us how ye aims ter do hit,” growled the telegraph operator. “Jim Fletcher has the idea,” replied the lawyer impressively. “Quite the right idea. How many men can you trust on a job like this, Jim?” “As many as ye needs,” was the con fident response. "A dozen or a score if they’re wanted.” "Enough to make It sure, but not too many,” urged Hackley. “We 6hould set a day precisely as the court would set a day for—er—an execu tion. The force you send out should simply stay on the Job until it’s done. If Anse Havey can be got alone, so much the better. But above all—” The lawyer paused and spoke with his most forceful emphasis: "Don’t just wound this man. See that the thing is finally and definitely settled.” “I’ll be there myself,” Jim Fletcher assured him. “Now when is this day goin’ ter be?” “This is Monday?” reflected the at torney. “There is no advantage in delay. It will take a day or two to get ready. Let the case be docketed, as I might say—for Thursday.” **•*•*• Anse Havey had gone to Lexington. Never again did he mean to hold against himself the accusation of “the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin.” He knew that she loved him. In Lexington he had bought a ring and at Peril he had got a marriage li cense. His camp-following day3 were over. He had one youth, and he knew that if his enemies succeeded in their designs that might at any mo ment be snapped short with sudden death. It did not seem to him that one of its golden hours should be wasted. As he came out of the courthouse with the invaluable piece of paper in hi6 pocket two men, seemingly un armed. rose from the doorway of the store across the street and drifted to ward their hitched horses. Young Milt McBriar had ridden over to Peril that day with several compan ions, and Anse Havey went back with them. So it happened that quite acci dentally he made this journey under escort. The men who rode a little way in his rear cursed their luck—and waited. And, though they lurked in hiding all that afternoon near Anse Havey’s house, they saw nothing more of their intended victim. Anse was keenly alive to each day’s impending threat, and when he recognized the face of Jim Fletcher In Peril, as he came through, he had read mischief in the eyes and recognized that the menace had drawn closer. So. when he was ready to cross the ridge to the school, he obeyed an old sense of caution and left his horse saddled at the front fence that it might seem as if he were going out— but had not yet gone. He had sent a messenger for Goo4 Anse Talbot, and the preacher arrived while he was at his supper. “Brother Anse,” he said, “I’m goin’ to need ye some time betwixt npw and midnight. I want ye to tarry here till I come back.” “What’s the nature of business ye needs me fer, Anse?” demanded the missionary. “I hadn’t hardly ought i ter wait. Thar’s a child ailin’ up the top fork of little fork of Turkey-Foot creek.” But Bad Anse only shook his head. “It's the best business ye ever did,” he confidently assured the preacher. "But I can’t tell ye yet Is the child in any danger?” “I reckon not; hit’s Jest ailin’ but—” The brown-faced man sat dubiously shaking his bead, and Anse’s features suddenly set and hardened. “I needs ye,” he said. ‘Ain’t that enough? I’m goin’ to need ye bad.” "That’s a right strong reason, Anse, but—” For an instant the old dominating will which had not yet learned to brook mutiny leaped into Anse Havey’s eyes. His words came in a harsher voice: “Will you stay of your own free will because I’m goin’ to need ye, Brother Anse?” he demanded. “Be cause, by God, ye’re goin’ to stay—one way or another.” “Does ye mean ye aims ter hold me hyar by force?” “Not unless ye make me. I wouldn’t hardly like to do that." For a moment the missionary de bated. He did not resent the threat of coercion. He believed in Anse Havey, and the form of request con vinced him of its urgency. So he nodded his head. ‘Til be hyar when ye comes,” he said. Anse left his house that night neith er by front nor back, but in the dark shadows at one side, and his talis man of luck led his noiseless feet safe ly between the scattered sentinels who were watching his dwelling to kill him. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Not Quite. ‘‘How is the baby getting along in trying to talk?” “Well, 1 must say his efforts have not as yet met with pronounced suc cess.” - Worth While Quotation. Many men owe the grandeur of their lives to their tremendous difficulties.— Selected. [ The bachelor believes TT«nan was i the god of marriage. _i A sense of freedom from all an noying after-eating distress can only be experienced when the digestive system is strong and working harmoniously. Such a condition can be promoted by care ful diet and the assistance of HOSTETTER’S Stomach Bitters NO PLACE FOR LITTLE MAN He Evidently Had His Opinion as to What His Companions Would Do in an Accident. All hand - had been telling long sto ries of what they had done or would % do in the cent of a smashup on the i railway, with the exception of one little max. who had listened atten tively to trie narratives and taken them all iti without a word. “Ever b“on in an accident?” asked the patriarch of the party, noticiug the little man's silence. “No,” replied the little man quietly. “Then you have no idea of what you would do in the case?” continued the patriarch. A "No, I haven’t,” replied the little man sadly “With all you big heroes blocking up the doors and windows in your hurry to get out, 1 don’t exactly knew what ^how a man of my size would have'.” And then there was a deep silence, so deep you might have heard a cough drop, and the little man was troubled no more about the possibility of acci der.ts. AT THE FIRST SIGNS / Of Falling Hair Get Cuticura. It Work* Wonders. Trial Free. Touch spots of dandruff and itching with Cuticura Ointment, and follow next morning with a hot shampoo of Cuticura Soap. This at once arrests falling hair and promotes hair growth. You may rely on these supercreamy emollients for all skin troubles. Sample each free by mail with Book. Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. XY, Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv. County Leads in Mining. In metal Shasta county has long v/ been in a class by itself, leading all other counties ir California for the past eighteen "years. The official statis tics from 1397—the year when her great sulphide ore bodies were lirst exploited—to 1914 (last year estimat ed) credit the county with a total out put of *99,144,777, or an average of over $5,508,000 per year. For a really fine coffee at a mod erate price, drink Denison’s Seminole Brand, 35c the lb., in sealed cans. Only one merchant in each town sells Seminole. If your grocer Isn’t the one, write the Denison Coffee Co., Chicago, for a souvenir and the name ot your Seminole dealer. Buy the 3 lb. Canister Can for $1.00. •—Adv. Nothing Rude. “I suppose your daughter will start her scholastic career with some spe cial rudimentary studies?” “No, indeed. There ain’t going to be nothin’ rude about it She's goin’ to take only polite litertoor.” I Piles Cured in 6 to 14 Days Druggists refund money if PAZO OINTMENT *»•*«,° cur* I •chin*. Blind. Bleeding or Protrud iagf Puea. First application jfives relief. 50c. The Fiery Year. The Plymouth Rock—Terrible tiiaea The Leghorn—Yes; 1 didn’t lay my egg to be an omelet. The trouble with too many children is that the education of their parents has been neglected. the ring once too often; hut a bore has never been knocked out. NEAL of council bluffs * 3-DAY 5HP-51SS* Aiwa,. 8acc.JRf^Tf,V,£NT _ . . Write for Booklet. Address NEAL INSTITUTE 21 Benton Street, COUNCIL BLUFFS iJL °r *‘,dre" J- k- Mav. "* PATENTS Bale, reliable. Nebraska Directory WBlV,°gb«WBltyBmg! SStJK; The Army of Constipation I. Growing Smaller Ever. n._ CARTER’S LITTLE — ' LIVER PILLS .« responsible— they not only give relief — they perma nently cure Con stipitioB. Mil lions use A them for / Biliontneu, *—■ .■ — Indigestion, Sick He«d.cke, Sallow Skin. SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature \ r Wv N. U., OMAHA, NO, 1_ ' I