Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 25, Number 49, Decatur, Adams County, 26 February 1927 — Page 3

The Understanding Heart By PETER B.KYNE ~ -SIT» Retnemb« r . vl> . i tt wyeß asked >''’ ar V h. hul g”' suspicious and h*’ sh „ to the gat® t 0 Investigate. «ml and empty shells and ,0 “ !! Ld them. Bui the city lawyer remov Lid the question was de- - *', ti. esmirch the character of •* <,\,h He wanted to know "** . „ vlawyer was trying to prove. . %n y I hadn’t any idea my lawyer ins to pop that one at kelcey, ■ rt J 1 nhhough of course I'd told him Ptlh *. r ' h trouble I’d hud. A man 5 1|a m come dean with his lawyer * B X wasn’t Wishful to go to n L.entin but I didn’t aim to smear 'Lwife M to keep out of jail, so 1 n /. toa to thp Question too. ob ivL d I was there and I remember More of your infernal foolish”eSThe Masons don't throw mud at •heir women, sheriff 1 ‘ "She was plastered already and another dab wouldn't have hurt her any. X sheriff was an extremely prac“'•TherFs a heap of difference between suspicion and proof. ■Hah! That woman o yours had the heart of a polecat." ••Nevertheless, she was my wife, and I’d rather rot in hell than throw mud at her. 1 had proof that she d been indiscreet and .foolish, but np proof that she’d been unfaithful. She was young and foolish, and it was lonely in Honey Valley. Folks do foolish things without meaning to be wicked, sheriff.”, •How about that- telephone conversation you listened in on? Wasn't that compromisin' enough? You never said anything about that at the trial. “No, I didn’t, it wouldn't have reflected any credit on me, spying on my wife. I spied for her prptection as much as my own. In general I hate spying. It isn’t a man’s game. And that conversation wasn't com- ! promising. Kelcey just asked him up to talk things over. She told him I was on the war path and she. wanted him to be careful and not give me grounds for suspicion. “She also told him I’d made} her a proposition and she wanted to discuss it with him. If he wanted her to accept, well and good. If not, then they'd better not see each other any more* She told him I’d gone up to Modoc to buy some feeder steers., and it would be safe for him to come up just this once.” “She was a mighty poor judge of safety, that's all I got to say. Bob. I rtmember, while the lawyers was atjying about whether that questionshould be allowed or not, your lovin' wife took occasion to have highsterics and had to be removed to the judge's chambers to compose herself. "It's been my experience that women like her always take refuge in high-sterics when the/goin’ gets slippery for them. And I recall right well how white she got and what a wild look come in her eyes when your lawyer asked her that leadin’ question." "Naturallv. Any woman would have tion like that. She’d done her best for me, hadn’t she? She testified she'd heard the shooting.” "Hum-m-m! Now that you remind me of it, I rentemher havin’ a feelin' st the time that she was more frightened than insulted. You sorter intimated you could always tell what she was thinkin’ about before she opened (ter mouth. "11l bet a new hat that deep down in that old-fashioned gizzard o’ yours, you knew she'd gathered up that Pistol and those six empty shells; that she was wonderin', when your lawyer asked her about it on mere suspicion, if somebody had seen her do it, and if she lied and said she hadn't, would that somebody prove her a liar.” "1 don't agree with you. sheriff.” Mason’s voice lacked conviction, however. ’ fbu lie like hell. You do!” Uncle Charley Canfield quietly listening to the conversation, had decided to take a hand. She loved that feller an’ . hated you for blockin' her aspirations. Huh! Women! I know 'em. 1 oughter. 1 had one onct! She was the livin’ image o’ Kelcey Mason.. Sheriff. I’m tellin’ you! There a 'nt nothing one o' them soft-faced, sad-eyej poutin’, play-actin’ little • "°® en won't do They’re that conretted they never give a man credit , or , ains enough tc haul guts to a war. They’re wilful an’ selfish an' , h f y , J . ust nat ’helly got to spark any- '. n in P a nts that comes near ’em, ‘..j.. whe ” Ret ona-o’ these fly city •M'S that gives ’em a little soft soap 1 fy get all het up with romance an’ a yearnin' for liberty. They never o nothin’ for their keep. They’re can a , niotll tbat ain ’t happy until he ham K 1 ?°. buzzin ’ around a candle pit ™ a . n burnt up. An’ when they thL a^~ when the ? Kit jealous—when a' reVen Keful, I’m here to tell oil a fe'l'h p 1 ” 11 not ' lln ' they ’ Won f CHAPTER 32. totiieht' r* 11 , be about al! from you "arned th"± t ? r t rley '" Mps ™ •<’ "r ' boe i°t °f leaving alone.” you Rnh '■ npithsr - The trouble with bred nr,’ 9 tbat y° ur old man only danger! n S °j’ an(i tben he was 80 WUo d wn r 2 Ud of himsel£ he had to 'ou spile ,be i° b - Hs Put Montag h ' gh ' B, hoo! tm ‘ r to Sf boolmarm ter y ° U d learne<l all the to teach you. t 0 S ‘ Bkiy ° U Ce " ter wasn’t'h' ned you t 0 s P® ak !llte 101 n an raised In these here

mountains; h<‘ put a lot o' hlgh-an‘-mighty, hoity-toity fool notions in your head—“-all about honor an’ dooty an' pride o' nice an’ what all. ”Au' then, not content with that, wluit does your fool paw do? lie sands you down to Sacramento to a business college as If the cow business required a knowledge of book kenpin’. He put a white collar on you an’ store cjpthes an’ bought yon a tooth brush. Dang your glzzrrd. I’ve seAn you a-wearin’ of socks a squaw would have envied, not to mention toothpick shoes, over to the Fourth of July celebration at Montngue. i “You was the first man in this country to own an automobile that cost over six hundred dollars—an' where'll it take you? Why, over to Kipmath Falls to old Jeff Harrington's* daughter, an' your fool father encouraged you on account that old Jeff was descended Trom the Harringtons of Kentucky, whiyh bred back to the Calverts of Maryland. "To hell with all this old Southern tradition that come into Northern California with Price's rebel army. We got a new deal here an' we got to take what we find an’ maktj the best of it. An’ who were the Masons, anyhow? Just because one o’ the tribe could talk louder’n his neighbors him an' a feller named Dixon had a line named after them. Mason an’ Dixon Line. A place for niggers to jump across an' be free!" "Old man.” the sheriff warned him severely, "if you keep up that clatter you’ll wear yourself plumb out.” ‘Tin wore out already but I aim to continue my clatter. Sheriff. I tell you this Bob-boy has been spiled. He ain’t practical. He's doin’ life becuz a miserable little no-account woman that couldn't bile water pul him there, an’ then got a divorce from him becauz he's a felon! But-will he say anything ag’in' that woman? Not a pt ep outer the sucker, although he knows uamned well she found that pistol an’ the six cg'tridges an’ hid ’em, so Bob here wouldn’t have no self-defense evidence. An' then, to cover up her tracks, she testifies as how she did hear some shootin’, well knowin’ nobody'll believe her, on account of her bein’ Bob’s wife an .hence disposed to lie in his behalf. "Now. I got somethin' to say an’ not a hell of a lot o’ time to say it. I can’t prove what I got to say, but it’s gospel truth just the same. Kelcey Mason did hear that shootin’; she did git suspicious an' ride down to the gate in the little automobile this eo-diot here was fool enough to buy for her. An' she found that skunk too dead to ikin an’ she took his carcass in her arms an' kissed his lyin’ mug an’ howled an' moaned somethin’ scandalous. “Then she got cool an’*- took to sitin’ UP the sitywatinn. She knew Bob Mason had wafted that horsethief home an' when she see that, pistol lyin’ beside the diseased, an' tfrem empty ca'tridge shells she gathers ’em up. gits into her autymobile, an’ back-tracks home. Arrived there, she todwns the evidence that would have freed her husband down the • well.” * "How do you know she did?" «he sheriff was speaking. "Did you see her do it?” “No, nobody seen her do it. but where else would a dumb woman like her throw the evidence unless it was down a well? When folks commit a murder ain’t the well the first place they think of for hidin’ the body? ’’’ *’’■ " ain't bein' used ms more! Bob. you I got a well like that on your ranch in Honey Valley. Bob Mason was silent.. -His eyes ' were closed, but the agony of his ' soul shffwed in the teardrops that • glistened in the corners of his eyes. ■ "You can’t convict a person on susI picion and hearsay evidence. Uncle Charley,” the sheriff reminded him. i Uncle Charley’s feeble voice almost i cracked "An’ don’t 1 know it? Ain't ’ I the man who put Bob’s lawyer up t to askin’ Kelcey that question? I " knew she'd done Jt, but I couldn’t . prove it, an’ I told the lawyer so. 1 That's ywhy he undertook to scare it I out of'her; the other side knew he'd picked yp a piece o’ float an’ if they let fflm alone he’d come to the main • lode in another minute, so they objected, an’ this”—Uncle Charley rais- ! ed a trembling, dirty hand and trans- > fixed Bob Mason with his index-finger ! —.“this spiled, hifalutin’ gentleman, oozin' chivalry an’ infernal foollsh- ■ ness at every pore, ups an' says in his • opinion it ain’t mo proper question to 1 ask his wlfd. because she’s as pure a woman as ever drew the breath o’ } life.s, • "His lawyer argies with him, but ? 'tain't no use, an’ then the judge al- • lows it’s his dooty to protect the wit--1 ness from insult an' browbeatin', an’ I sustains the objection on the ground that it's intended to make the lady ■ admit somthing which if she admits ” it she degrades herself an' it’ she don’t ' admit it. why, it only clutters up the , court rqie-cord!' 'Of course Bob he sells all his cow r critters to git money to appeal the p case, but once he's convicted he can't 8 git no bail, so how can he git around 8 1 to rustle up new evidence? Nachelly 1 the supreme court upholdjs his con- ! viction, an’ now he’s makin’ little . rocks outer big ones.” "Where’d you pick up all this hearsay evidence, Uncle Charley?” "I got it from a friend o' mine.” "And where did your friend get it?" sheriff persisted. L1 "He happened to be up on the hllla side just above the gate where the ! killin’ took place. He was prospectin’ '* on his own land an’ when he saw Bob k settin' there, off the road, waitin’ for II somebody, after parkin' his autymoy bile in the sycamores, -he reckoned ” Bob was up to something he'd just ” as soon not have any witness to, so ' my partner sets down in the bush e an’ waits for things to hapen. r, "After they happen he continues to I set there, bein’ eminnetly staisfied 11 with the course of events has just e took. An’ he sees Kelcey Mason do I

DECATUR DAILY DEMOCRAT SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 26,1927.

MUSSOLINI HAS GERMAN ORIGIN,SAYS SAVANT: CLAIM REFUTED BI WRITER ?

Berlin -<United I’rcssl Allegations! that Mussolini, the Italian dictator is of German origin and counter-urgu-1 inentH, contendiqg that th<« purity of, bls Italian blood Is beyond challenge, I are holding the attention of German, scholars. — Dr. D. Schaefer, professor at the ( University of Berlin, claims to have traced the ancestry of Mussolini to a German knight of the 13fh century. The alleged precursor of the "Duce" 700 years ago, is said to have beeu the Westphalian cavalier. Jiginulf Muselin. Prof. Schaefer announced that Eginulf’s descendants later mi-

I all 1 tell you she done!” "You aneieht old numskull! Where" is this witness? We’ll reopen this! ease and put him on the stand." "My witness is Ashforth Dale, an'" he’s too dead to skin!” "So he just told you what he had seen, th?” "Ash never had no secrets from his old Charley-partner, an’ what’s more, Ash wouldn't lie. Ash Dale was one of the finest, cleanelft, smartest men in these hills. He was the soul of honor an’ had more sense than a tilck mule. Ash an' me talked k all over —we didn't even let Monicy iff"on the deal, becuz. bein' a woman an' impetuous-like, she’d have spiled our triumph. "We figgered to let Bob go to “trial an’ after the cards had been stacked on Bob an’ this little female grasssnake has lied herself into trouble, Ash Aggers on takin’ the stawd an' fellin' what he knows. “Then he’s for askin’ the judge to send the sheriff out to scrape the bottom ,of that well for the evidence. TV number of the pistol can most ■ likely be read an’ its ownership traced becuz nobody can buy a pistol in this state without recordin’ his name an’ ' address with the hardware dealer that sells it to him. “We figger the sheriff’ll go out an’ return with the evidence —or mebbe . he takes the jury with him, an’ if i he does Ash an' I are figgerin' on i givin’ the jqry a barbecue to celebrate the event.” “If you wasn’t so right close to , glory this minute. Uncle Charley, I'd ; kill you," the sheriff roared. "Why i didn't you do it?” "That inconsiderate Ash Dale goes , over to pan a little color out of a . tunnel he's sunk at odd times into his property adjoinin’ Honey Valley,” t Uncle Charley went on serenely. "I • always did tell the doddern’ ee-diot he didn't know nothin' about underground timberin’ an' that ne'd ought to renew some of them uprights in I the tunnel. He was always goin’ to, . but. never got around to doin' it, an’ as a result, whefi he don’t come back . that night I go lookin’ for him. I , find him just inside the mouth o’ that drift, which it’s caved in on him an’ t a boulder has crushed his chest. He , just lives long enough to give me . some instructions regarding Monicy.” t "Why didn't he commit his evi- ? dence to writing?" the sheriff ago- ■> nized. "Oh, Uncle Charley, why didi n’t you make him put his evidence in T'T’n.U*:Vn ci > j .so it would be available in the e x '»nt of h’s s’eath?” s "1 did. I Had Ash write it all down s in his own hand writin’, becuz I never t trusted that old drift he spent three ! days a week in. Ash, it over to Montague an’ signed it before a B notary public.” I “What notary public? Well, never t mind, there’s only two in town. Did f- the notary read it?” “No. I looked him up an’ asked I him. He wasn’t interested. Ash was t callin’ in four of five times a year to , have his John Hancock swor'to—all t documents labeled ‘Affidavit,’ which q they’re affidavits that he's done the v annual assessment work on some fool placer claim. So the notary just >- makes a record in his book that he’d took the' oath of Ashford Dale to a i- affidavit an’ let it go at that.” r “What became of the affidavit?" i, x i- CHAPTER 33. s 0 "I don't know what became of the e affidavit," Uncle Charley answered. >’ “I thought Ash had it in his cabin, but I searched an' Monicy searched t —high an’ low—an' we never could I- find it. Bob’s lawyer tells us it ain’t !• no use to put me on the stand becauz >' heresay evidence ain't admissible, an i the other side blocks us before we y git started. If they let us finish they - do it to remind the jury that while t they let the testimony be given an’ e then had it struck out of the record, they did it just to prove to the jury ■- the lengths to which a desperate crime inal will go to defeat justice. It’s t judged better to keep quiet.” d “This is the first I’ve ever heard y about this. Uncle Charley,’ ’Bob Mai- son said sternly. e “Oh, she up! You wouldn’t have believed it if I’d told you. Mos’ likely ■- you’d have smacked me down, an’ I'then I’d have had to kill you, becuz • I’m a heller an’ no man can smack ” me down an’ git away with it.” K The sheriff reversed his steaming I- trousers and held them to the flames e again. “I remember,” he said presr ently, "that Bob’s lawyer tried to b prove the deceased had a gun and r packed it on occasion; he tried to ). find out whatever become o’ that gun. d.But he didn't get nowhere. Reckon t Jethroe and the demity sheriff saw to o that.” h “They would, sheriff. It was to • their interest to see Bob out o’ the ' way. They want his Honey Valley p to use as a dam for their debris [ l when they wash Monicy’s section t down with the hydraulic giants. I o know that nest of low-flung sheriff i __

11 rated to the south Italian province of Romagna, where they fought i: gainst the Ghibellines. But Musso'llni is known to have come from the I vicinity of Forli, which Is also In Romagna province. Hence the deduction that Knight Muselin was the forefather of Duke Mussolini. This theory is made the nutt of a vigorous attack by another scholar, writing under the pseudonym “Meridionalis” In the German weekly magazine, “Welt Buehne.” “MeridionaliH" insists that the double “s" In Mussolini’s name is sufficient evidence to discredit Professor Schaefer’s hypothesis.

give me—another drink. My heart's 1 —flutterin’—scandalous ” i The sheriff complied with the old man's request, and presently I ncle •Charley declared he was feeling b< tit. r. "Reckon I’ve talked too much." 'h- sighed. “I'm warm now. I’ll take • forty winks. Sheriff, make me up when my clothes has dried out.’’ I About ten o’clock the rain-soaked clothing of the queerly assorted trio had become sufficiently dry to be donned, so Sheriff Bentley awakened Uncle Charley and eased him into his hickory shirt and harlequin trousers. Socks Uncle Charley had none: he regarded socks in the light of winter garment —during hard winters only. The ruin of Bob Mason’s garments was so complete, however, that the sheriff concluded not to attempt to salvage them. So he gave his prisoner his own underwear and contended himself with an outside shirt and trousers. These details attended to. he brought some more dry hay in from the barn, draped himself in a halt-dried blanket of Monica Dale’s and stretched himself out for his long-delayed rest. Just before he sarik into slumber, however. Uncle Charley called him feebly. "Sheriff, you aint hankerin' for ti>e reward on Bob, be ye?" “Not at all.” “Why don’t you let him go? Nobody knows you have him extept me —an’ I won’t* tell. Why don’t you let the boy make his gitaway?” "Not in my underclothes, Uncle Charley. And Bob couldn't make his getaway if he had a Saratogy trunk tilled with clothes. He's burned over about a third of his carcass, here and there —not serious but mighty painful—and what he needs is rest and quiet. He can’t run away, so I reckon I’ll leave him here for Monica Dale to nurse until I’m ready to come after him. Bob, don’t you leave Bogus until 1 come back for you. Promise?”

“Word of honor. 1 broke it once 1 —wanted to get to see my baby—and ; then if they recaptured me 1 didn’t care. Prison was driving me crazy —I ' J broke faith with the warden—sorry , I did that. Leave me here until 1 1 get well, sheriff, and I'll go back to San Quentin on my own. That 11 make my honor clean again and up- ; hold the honor system. The warden’s a good fellow and my running away ’ like this has hurt him. It brings the honor system into disrepute-hurts the chances qj’ the other fellows who want 1 to get trot of the prison atmosphere Ir 7nii>’ “Ti"’•‘WWi.. guarded there. He’d be free if he didn't know he was a convict. He 1 gets some money for ills labor, too. Yes, I’ve got to go back on my own.’’ • The sheriff laughed softly, snuggled down into his bed of hay and fell 1 asleep instantly. » * * * ' Throughout the long, hard trek from Tantrum Meadows to Bogus, Monica Dale and Anthony Garland had spoken to each other infrequently. • Monica, wearing the ranger’s slicker J and holding the baby under it, rode Qgrland’s Uorse, while he walked 1 ahead in the terrific downpour and i led the unwilling animal, for the trail ! was narrow and in the darkness Garland had, practically, to feel their way, 1 From time to time the man called i back anxiously, “How are you making the grade, Monica?” To which the girl always responded, “Better than you’re tnaknig it, Tony!” It was nearly midnight when they reached the lookout station, and as- > Anthony Garland reached up and lift- . ed Monica and the baby out of the , , saddle the girl clung to him for an I appreciable period. “Poor girl,” he I murmured, “you've had a hard day t and you've never complained once, t God love you for a rare good sport!” ’ He drew her and the baby close to » his heart and kissed her wet cheek, r “Even if God fails to love you, I shall,' i Monica. Now, pop into your cabin ’ while I put this poor horse in your- , barn. Then I’ll come in and kindle r a fire for you. I don’t think we can - figure on any ’sleep tonight. We'll be s too busy drying ourselves and keeping warm.” 1 She waited in the darkness under’ • the dripping little front porch until he rejoined her, struck a light and s sought the latch; in its feeble glow! r he caught a glimpse of the girl's face, ’ white and terrified. t “Tony,” she murmured huskily, t “you mustn't come in. You must go to the barn and make the best of it ; there, afid wet and cold as you are. I i —l—l’ll manage without." - "I understand thoroughly, my dear. > Permit me to make a fire in your I fireplace, so you can dry your clothr ing; then I'll go to the barn. You . can trust me. Monica.” i “I know, Tony, but I prefer my > way, if you don’t mind. And please don't argue with me. I'm very apt > to weep.” s “Os course you Shall have your ' own Kay. Your request appears to s me quite extraordinary, but I know i your reasons justify your action. [ Have you plenty of dry .matches?” ! "Yes, Tony. Thank you. You

know how sorry 1 am to do this, don’t you?" 1 "1 hope you are, Monica Well, Bentley is in the barn and I’ll make him share your hay with me. tiood night." "Good night. I'll never forget your kindness and gentleness, Tony." Shu waited until she heard the barn door slam behind him. then entered j her cabin and struck a match against the Inside of the closed door. She was looking for tin* lantern. A fire was burning low in the fireplace and with its fitful glow aided the match to light an incongruous scene. Mo- | nice had expected to find Uncle I Charley and Bob Mason in her < abin for despite the presence of strangers on Bogus—a presence she felt certain must bn known to Uncle Charley, if tint to Bob-she realized they would Wave reconnoitered the cabin, and finding it vacant, crept in out of the torrential, chilling downpour In the hay on her living-room floor three men all sharing .a very odoriferous old saddle-blanket. The firelight fell on Bob Mason’s red i blistered face, and Uncle Charley's bald head, with its halo of long white locks, rose out of the center of this human tangle. Monica set the baby on the hay at Bob Mason’s feet, struck another match and bent over the third man., .It was Sheriff Bentley! He was mak ing faces in his sleep and from time | to time he emitted a soft, whistling 1 snore. “Well, that race has been won—and lost," Monica thought and her throat swelled. Fate had stacked the cards against heriat last! Poor Bob! How pitifully vain had been his tremendous sacrifice! What a dreadful price he was to’ pay for his generosity, his thoughtfulness, and his bravery! Monica's tears fell fast as she groped . for the lantern, hanging on a nail, lighted it and went out to the barn. "That you. sheriff?” Anthony Garland called as the lantern’s rays streamed throuh the cracks in the door. “No, Tony, it's Monica. Come into ’ the house. The sheriff is there and so is Uncle Charley and Bob Masonall sleeping side by side. 1 knew i Uncle Charley and Bob would be there —that's why I wouldn’t let you copie , in, Tony, but I didn’t expect to find .the sheriff there! Oh, Tony, it hurt me so to be cruel to you! There's a J fire in the tireplace and perhaps 1 can > give you a drink, if the other three t have left me any whisky. They’ve , been at the jug." • He opened the door, Monica stepped s in, and they looked at each other, t The ranger was smiling humorously, r "1 knew Mason was in your cabin," 1 he confessed. “You might have let -mein at Jirst. Monica. I wouldn't I have arrested him on a bet. the poor.

| « Aw. 4 <3 v v '- IL ft DURING the same twenty-four hours in which you read I UNITED PRESS dispatches in this newspaper, the ■ same dispatches are being read in 35 nations throughout • | the world. The readers of more than 1,100 newspapers share with you the news gathered by this vast organization. ' Among the languages in which UNITED PRESS dispatches are pointed in newspapers are these: English Slavonic Spanish Swedish Portuguese Norwegian French Danish f Italian Hebrew German Tagalog (Philippine Dutch s Islands) ‘ Polish Chinese Bohemi an J apanese —- Every news-source on the habitable globe is covered by UNITED PRESS reporters. When George Eastman of /■ Rochester emerged from the jungle at Nairobi, British East Africa, a UNITED PRESS reporter was there to get the story. In the far north, in the Orient, in Europe, Asia, Africa or the Americas, UNITED PRESS men are on the job for you and millions of other newspaper readers. * s' Decatur Daily Democrat * - / I r—

unhappy, tired devil." !\jeulcit choked again My home] is dreadfully upset boots and wet: clothing all over the floor, ••• uttered | hay and extra fuel. And the room smells horribly smelly ilothint'.l smelly mf'u t ami alcohol." "So the lion ami the lamb have I,'tin together, eh?” "Bring some hay, Tony, and III; make a fire In the kitchen dove and (•amp there with the baby tonight. You can share the fire and living-| loom floor with the other three lodg-i era for the night. But first, Tony, you’ve got to find Pansy. She's mvi Toggenbing nanny aoat. I turned hir loose this afternoon to shift for hersplf, but I wouldn't be surprised if' she’s come home to bo milked. Ib r stall’s at the other (•nd of this barn." "She's there, Monica. I heard her moving about a moment ago.’,' "Then hold this lantern while I milk her. I've got to have some hot milk for the baby I’ll feed the darling with a spoon." Monica had a pitcher with her. Pansy was soon located and as promptly’relieved of her over-burden i df milk: CHAPTER 31. “Lucky thing you have a goat." Garland declared. "I’ve heard it said j that goat’s milk is the best substi ■ | tote for nature's ration " "I hope so. Tony, there are some ( old, empty gunny sacks -the only dry, thing on Bogus tonight. Bring a I dozen of them, Tony. Thoyjll do to

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mnke a Imd for the baby In the woodbox. and I can wrap hint up In them uniil I dry Itis clothing." ' The maii obeyed, lu ailent admiration for iter quickness and clarity of (thought, her initiative and Inventivetif'ss. Halfway back to the little cabin they heatd a surprised yell—ns they ( reached the (loot they distinctly hettrij ! Sheriff Bentley declare ho was entire' ' ly willing to be damned for all eternity! The old marplot turn discovered ithe baby," Monica whispered. "I aup- ; pose il cried and woke him up. and I now he thinks he’s witness to u mlr--1 acle.” ’ She opened the door and stepped ! Into the loom. The sheriff was kneeling in front yf the fire unwrapping the baby, am! Bob Mason was halt raised on his right elbow gazing anxiously at the operation. Monica awl the ranger paused just inside the door ito observe the curious scene. “Womb r ii B's a boy or a 'girl, Bob." “Boy,” the prisoner declared with finality. j Much you know about infants. Bob. You’ve only had one! 11l het you anything it’s a girl." What will you bet?" Bentley pondered a moment, striving to think of something he could wager with a recaptured convict; I presently he thought of it. "I'll bet j von the drinks.” he declared. (TO liK COXTIVIEDi Copyright 1928 Peter 13. Kyne by arrangement with King Features Syndicate. Inc

THREE