Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 83, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 April 1913 — Page 2

MOLLY McDONALD A TALE Of THE FRONTIER

. * CHAPTER I. i An Unpleasant Situation. When, late in May. 1868, MajOr Daniel McDonald. Sixth Infantry, -was first assigned to command the new three company post established southwest of Fort Dodge, designed to protect the newly discovered Cimarron trail leading to Santa Fe across the desert, and, purely by courtesy, officially termed Fort Devere, he naturally considered it perfectly safe to Invite his only daughter to Join him there tor her summer vacation. Indeed, at that time, there was apparently no valid reason why he should deny himself this pleasure. Except tor certain vague rumors regarding uneasiness among the Sioux warriors north of the Platte, the various tribes of the plains were causing no unusual trouble to military authorities, although, of course, there was no time In the history of that country utterly devoid of peril from young raiders, usually aided and abetted by outcast whites. However, the Santa Fe route, by this date, had become a well-traveled trail, protected by scattered posts along its entire route, fre»quently patrolled by troops, and merely considered dangerous for small parties, south of the Cimarron, where roving Comanches in bad humor might be encountered. Fully assured as to this by officers met at Fort Ripley, McDonald, who had never before served west of the Mississippi, wrote his daughter a long letter, describing In careful detail the route, set an exact date for her departure, and then, satisfied all was well arranged, set forth with his small command on the long march overland. He had not seen his daughter tor over two years, as during her vacation time (she was attending Sunnycrest school, on the Hudson), she made her home with an aunt In Connecticut This year the aunt was In Europe, not expecting to return until fall, and the father had hopefully counted on having the girl with him once again in Kentucky. Then came his sudden, unexpected transfer west, and the final decision to have her join him there. Why not? If she remained the same high-spirited army girl, she would thoroughly enjoy the unusual experience of a few .months of real frontier life, and the oply hard ship Involved would be the long stage ride from Ripley. This, however, was altogether prairie travel, monotonous enough surely, but without special danger, and he could doubtless arrange to meet her himself at Kansas City, or send one of his officers for that purpose. This was the situation in May, but by the middle of June conditions had greatly changed throughout all the broad plains country. The spirit of savage war had spread rapidly from the Platte to the Rio Pecos, and scarcely a wild tribe remained disaffected. Arapahoe, Cheyenne, Pawnee,

Comanche, and Apache alike espoused the cause of the Sioux, and their young warriors, breaking away from the control of older chiefs, became ugly and warlike. Devere, isolated as it was from the main route of travel (the Santa Fe stages still following the more northern trail), heard merely rumors of the prevailing condition through tarrying hunters, and possibly an occasional army courier, yet soon realized the gravity of the situation because of the almost total cessation of travel by way of the Cimarron and the growing insolence of the surrounding Comanches. Details from the small garrison were, under urgent orders from headquarters at Fort Wallace, kept constantly scouting as far south as the fork of the Red river, and then west to the mountains. Squads from the single cavalry company guarded the few caravans venturing still to cross the Cimarron desert, or bore dispatches to Fort Dodge. Thus the few soldiers remaining on duty at the home station became slowly aware that this outburst of savagery was no longer a mere tribal affair. Outrages were reported from the Solomon, the Republican, the Arkansas valleys. A settlement was raided on Smoky Fork; Stages were attacked near the Caches, and one burned; a wagon train was ambushed in the Raton pass, and only escaped after desperate fighting. Altogether the situation appeared extremely serious and summer promised war in earnest. McDonald was rather slow to appreciate the real facta. His knowledge of Indian tactics was exceeding-

AWAY WITH CUSS HATRED

Distinction of Condition Should Bo Forgotten If the Ideal Ever Io to Be Attained. Perhaps there is no feeling more subtle, more elusive, and more difficult to eradicate from human nature than tbe sense of "superiority.* In a hundred different ways it manlfesta itself, and no class of society ooems free from it The professional man's wife “cow-

By RANDALL PARRISh

JLuthorof “Keith ortifc bordcrflly Lady of Doubt? My Lady of fa. &outn7 efeek BY A.C.M'CLURG & CO.

ly small, and the utter., isolation of his post, kept him ignorant. At first he was convinced that it was merely a local disturbance and would end as suddenly as begun. Then, when realization finally came, it was already too late to stop the girl. She . would be already on her long Journey. What could he do? What immediate steps could he hope to take for her protection? Ordinarily he would not have hesitated, but now a decision was not so easily made. Of ifis command scarcely thirty men remained at Devere, a mere infantry guard, together with a small squad of cavalrymen, retained for courier service. His only remaining commissioned officer at the post was the partially disabled cavalry captain, acting temporarily as adjutant, because incapacitated for taking the field. He had waited until the last possible moment, trusting that a shift in conditions might bring back some available officer. Now he had to choose between his duty as commander and as father. Further

delay was impossible. Devere was a fort merely by courtesy. In reality it consisted only of a small stockade hastily built of cottonwood timber, surrounding in partial protection a half dozen shacks, and orfe fairly decent log house. The situation was upon a slight elevation overlooking the ford, .some low bluffs, bare of timber but green with June grass to the northward, while in every other direction extended an interminable sand-desert, ever shifting beneath wind blasts, presenting as desolate a scene as eye could witness. The yellow flood of the river, still swollen by melting mountain snow, was a hundred feet from the stockade gate, and on its bank stood the log cavalry/ stables. Below, a scant half mile away, were the* only trees visible, a scraggly grove of cottonwoods, while down the face of the bluff and across the < flat ran the slender ribbon of traiL Monotonous, unchanging, It was a desolate picture to watch day after day in the hot summer. In the gloom following an early supper the two officers sat together in the single room of the cabin, a candle sputtering on the table behind them, smoking silently or moodily discussing the situation. McDonald was florid snd heavily built, his gray mustache hanging heavily over a firm mouth, while the Captain was of another type, tall, with dark eyes and hair. The latter by chance opened the important topic. “By the way, major,” he said carelessly, “I guess it is just as well you stopped your daughter from coming out to this hole. Lord, but it would be an awful place for a woman.” “But I didn’t,” returned the other moodily. "I put it off too long.” “Put it off! Good heavens, man.

"Damme, I Haven’t Thought of Any thing Else for a Week.”

didn’t you write when you spoke about doing so? Do you actually mean the girl is coming—here?” McDonald groaned. * “That is exactly what I mean, Travers. Damme, I haven’t thought of anything else for a week. Oh, I know now I was an old fool even to conceive of such a trip, but when 1 wrote her 1 had no conception of what it was going to be like out here. There was not a rumor of Indian trouble a month ago, and when the tribes did break out it was too late for me to get word back east. The fact Is, I am In tbe devil of a fix —

descends** to the grocer's wife, the clerk’s wife patronizes the mechanic's wife, the “charlady** looks down on the "stepslady,** and so It goes on. Is It any matter for wonder, then, that those who clothe themselves in purple and fine linen, who fare sumptuously everyday, who are surrounded by all the culture, all the beauty, and all tbe luxury which modern civilization can provide find it hard to believe that a common humanity binds them to people who dwell in hovels, whose hands are begrimed and knot-

without even an officer whom I can send to meet her, or turn her back. If I should go myself it would mean a court-martial.” Travers stared into the darkness through the open door, sucking at his pipe. "By George, you are in a pickle,” he acknowledged" slowly. “I supposed she had been headed off long ago. Haven’t heard you mention the matter since we first got here. Where do you suppose the lass is by now?” “Near as I can tell she would leave Ripley the 18th." “Humph! Then starting tonight, a good rider might intercept her at Fort Dodge. She would be in no danger traveling alone for that distance. The regular stages are running yet, I suppose?” “Yes; so far as I know.” ’’'Under guard?" "Only from the Caches to Fort Union; there has been no trouble along the lower Arkansas yet. The troops from Dodge are scouting the country north, and we are supposed to keep things clear of hostiles down this way.” x “Supposed to —yes; but we can't patrol five hundred miles of desert with a hundred men, most of them dough-bOys. The devils can break through any time they get ready—you know that. At this minute there isn’t a mile of safe country between Dodge and Union. If she was my daughter—” “You’d do what?” broke in McDonald, jumping to his feet. “I’d give my life to know what to do!” “Why, I’d sent somebody to meet her —to turn her back if that was possible. Peyton would look after her there at Ripley until you could arrange.” “That’s easy enough to say, Travers, but tell me who is there to send? Do you chance to know an Unlisted man out yonder who would do—whom you would trust to take care of a young girl alone?” The captain bent his head on one hand, silent for some minutes. * “They are a tough lot, major; that's a fact, when you stop to call the roll. Those recruits we got at Leavenworth were mostly rough-necks—seven of thein in the guard-house tonight. Our best men are all out," with a wave of his hand to the south. "It's only the riff-raff we’ve got left, at Devere.”

“You can’t go?” The captain rubbed his lame leg regretfully. “No; I’d risk it if I could only ride, but I couldn’t sit a saddle.” “And my duty is here; it would cost me my commission.” There was a long thoughtful silence, both men moodily staring out through the door. Away in the darkness unseen sentinels called the hour. Then Travers dropped one hand on the other’s knee. “Dan,” be said swiftly, “how about that fellow who came in with dispatches from Union just before dark? He looked like a real man.” didn’t see him. I was down rlvef with the wood-cutters all day." Travers got up and paced the floor. “I remember now. What do you say? Let's have him in, anyhow. They never would have trusted him for that ride if he hadn’t been the right sort.” He strode over to the door, without waiting an answer. “Here, Carter," he called, “do you know where that cavalryman is who rode in from Fort Union this afternoon?” A face appeared in the glow of light, and a gloved hand rose to salute.

“He’s asleep in ’B’s’ shack, sir,” the orderly replied. "Said he’d been on the trail two nights and a day.*’ “Reckon he had, and some riding at that. Rout him out, will you? Tell him the major wants to see him here at once.’’ The man wheeled as if on a pivot, and disappeared. “If Carter could only ride,’’ began McDonald, but Travers interrupted impatiently. “If! But we all know he can’t. Worst I ever saw, must have originally been a sailor.” He slowly refilled his pipe. “Now, see here, Dan, it’s your daughter that’s to be looked after, and therefore I want you to size this man up for yourself. I don't pretend to know anything about him, only he looks like a soldier, and they must think well of him at Union.*’ McDonald nodded, but without enthusiasm; then dropped his head into his hands. In the silence a coyote howled mournfully not far away; then a shadow appeared on the log step, the light of the candle flashing on a row of buttons. “This is the man, sir,” said the orderly, and stood aside to permit the other to enter.

CHAPTER 11.

“Brick” Hamlin. The two officers looked up with some eagerness, McDonald straightening in his chair, and returning the cavalryman’s salute instinctively, his eyes expressing surprise. He was a straight-limbed fellow, slenderly built, and appearing taller than he really was by reason of his erect, soldierly carriage; thin of waist, broad of

ted with barren years of soulless labor, whose back* are bent beneath the terrific burden Imposed upon them from their cradles, and who dwell continuously in the company of the grim specters of disease and poverty? The gulf certainly seems almost impassible, but it must be bridged before any advance can be made in the direction of the abolition of class war and class hatred.—Chicago Tribune.

Most men make good loafers who can’t make good at anything else.

chest, dressed in rough service uniform, without jacket, just as he had rolled out of the saddle, rough shirt open at the throat, patched, discolored trousers, with- broad yellow stripes down the seam, stfick into service rid* ing boots, a- revolver dangling at his left hip, and a soft hat, faded sadly, crushed in one hand. The major saw all this, yet it was at the man's uncovered face he gazed most intently. He looked ypon a countenance browned by sun and alkali, intelligent, sober, heavily browed. with eyes of dark gray rather deeply set; firm lips, a chin somewhat prominent, and a broad forehead, the light colored hair above closely trimmed; the cheeks were darkened by two days’ growth of beard. McDonald unclosed, then clenched his hand. •’‘You are from Fort Union, Captain Travers tells “Yes, sir," the reply slow, deliberate, as though the speaker had no desire to waste words. —“I brought despatches; they were delivered to Captain Travers.” “Yes, I know; but I may require you for other service. What were your orders?” “To return at convenience.” “Good. I know Hawley, and do not think he would'object. What is your regiment?”. y "Seventh cavalry.” - “Oh, yes, just organized; before that?” “The Third." “I see you are a non-com—cor-poral?” “Sergeant, sir, since my transfer.” "Second enlistment?” "No, first in the regulars—the

He Was a Straight Limbed Fellow.

Seventh was picked from other oom mands." “I understand. You say first in ths regulars. Does that mean you saw volunteer service?" “Three years, sir.” —— “Ah!” his eyes brightening instantly. “Then how does It happen yen failed to try for a commission after the war? You appear to be intelligent, educated?" The sergeant, smiled. “Unfortunately my previous service had been performed in the wrong uniform, sir,” he said quietly. “I was in a Texas regiment” There was a moment’s silence, during which Travers smoked, and the major seemed to hesitate. Finally the latter asked: “What is your name, sergeant?" “Hamlin, sir.” The pipe came out of Travers* mouth, and he half arose to his feet “By all the gods!" he exclaimed. “That’s it! Now I’ve got you placed —you’re—you’re ‘Brick’ Hamlin!" The man unconsciously put one hand to his hair, his eyes laughing. “Some of the boys call me that — yes,” he confessed apologetically. Travers was on his feet now, gee* ticulating with his pipe. “Damn! I knew I’d seen your face somewhere. It was two years ago at Washita. Say, Dan, this Is the right man for you; better than any fledgling West Pointer. Why,, he is the same lad who brought in Dugan—you heard about that!” The major shook his head. / (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Looking for Owner of Fingers.

A farmer near Kansas City, Mo n is looking for the owner of a couple of fingers he has in his possession. He went to market with a load of potatoes and started to sleep in his wagon during the night before market opened. He was disturbed by the moving of the canvas over the load and, waking, saw a hand slip beneath the canvas and abstract a couple of the tubers. The operation was re peated so many times that he could foresee nothing but the disappearance of the entire load unless he took sum* mary action. Raising a sharp hatchet he had with him, the farmer smote the hand the next time it appeared and the next morning found two guilty fingers in the wagon. The re* mainder of his potatoes were not molested.

English “Society."

There are three classes of society In England—the aristocrats, who are barbarians; the middle class, who are Philistines, and the dregs of society, who are nothing at all. It Is a funny thing that the late King Edward, who had all the vices of the aristocrats, was beloved by the middle class, and that his son, King George, who has all the virtues of the 'middle class, Is ‘despised by the aristocrats. He and the queen are always spoken of as George and the Dragon,

MADE LIFE A TRAGEDY

WOMAN'S SUFFERING WHEN SHE HAB TO ADOPT GLASSES. Everything Seems Changed for the Worse, and Her Consolations Are I Few—Sly Scrutiny a Thing of the Past I wear glasses! It’s positively tragic, I look so wise and owl-like. It was bad enough to have an intellectual nose, but with Intellectual eyes as well I am hopeless. None but insignificant men like wise-looking women. Be capable, but look incapable if you to be a success. These little windows to my soul reveal what I for so long have attempted to conceal. How shall I ever adjust myself to this reorientation is a problem. With a coy upward glance at my next to best young man, who is tall, I meet the top of my glasses instead of two fond eyes and feel foolish; with a coquettish side glance I strike a wide reflection and feel awkward. I will have to get a short man so I can look straight ahead; but I don’t like short men. A sly scrutiny of my neighbor’s gown is no longer possible. I must turn and boldly stare or remain absolutely ignorant whether the embroidery is hand or machine made. Never, never more will I see with my shoulders. My head will bob up and down, to the right and to the deft, but goodby to the sly-sneaky glance with which one takes in a roomful and yet poised and unconscious.

The week under belladonna, when all was dim and blurred, brought with it a realization of what actual blindness must be and a resolution to read to those unfortunate creatures so afflicted when my own sight was restored. How my letters piled up during that week! Mother kindly offered to read them to me, but I didn’t think it nice to have other people’s letters read. Just fancy Mother reading aloud, “Sweetheart,, what magic spell have you cast about me? I live in a dream and I tread on air,” or “Madam, kindly send us your check for $95 for the gown purchased two months ago,” and you had only owned up to fifty! No, it certainly is not the proper thing to have letters read to you. The one consolation for that belladonna week was that I had all the mending and darning done without a murmur. The family thought ft strange that I could find all those rents and holes in my garments with such poor sight, but ,J my of/ touch was becoming accentuated? For a few days I thought I was getting good looking. My complexion took on a soft, velvety appearance and I was beginning to beam like a beauty and have an aggravatingly self-satis-fied air; but when I put on my glasses, which magnify about five times, I rushed to mother and asked her if she was sure I hadn’t the smallpox, everything looked so big and people seemed s 6 coarse with large hands and feet. I wouldn’t take some lovely shoes I* had ordered because they made my foot look so large; but while I was looking down at them my glasses fell off and the foot returned to its normal size, so I consented to accept them. Now in purchasing pearls, diamonds and such I always remove my glasses.—Exchange. »

Rescue From Electric Shock.

In dealing with persons suffering from electrical shdpk, if the victim remains in contact with the circuit his body must not he touched by the rescuer, but the latter may pull him out of contact by hauling on the clothing, or be may take off his own coat, Insert his hand in the sleeve and then handle the victim with little or no risk. Almost any article of clothing or material may be used, provided it is dry and of moderate thickness. Dr. Morton points out that death from electrical shock is only <n apparent death at first, and that there is practically always a time during which it is possible to resuscitate the victim by artificial respiration.—The Lancet

Indians to Build Model Village.

When the Indians of the Queen Charlotte Islands have already a national reputation for enterprise the Skldegates, whose village lies at the south end of Graham Island, have In view the most ambitious undertaking of the tribe yet. In the coming year they will Install an electrical system furnishing power to their industrial enterprises. They will put in a modern sewer system, water works and also firefighting apparatus. The Skldegates are chiefly famous for their band, which has the reputation of being the best Indian band In either Canada or the United States.— Vancouver Sun.

Power of Smell.

If, when you went to school as ■ child, you carried a tin lunch box which often contained, let us say, some gingerbread and sandwiches and perhaps an apple. It is worth while to take a tariff at such a box again, now It is surprising how this simple experiment may recall the patter of long-forgotten feet and the memory of childish voices that startle over the long lapse of yean. These flashes of memory aided by smell are wonderful. Through smell we achieve a sense of the past; the secret members of the mind are aroused to life and memory. What a pity that we waste this talent!

The ONOOKER

S. E.KISER

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The little boy who ran away Because he thought I wronged him Who turned before he went to say That I would weep in vain some day And wish I had not let him go, Is standing yonder by the gate. And I must coldly let him wait Oh, little boy, you think me cold, 1 But love that will not let me rest Is urging me to fondly fold Y6u in my eager arms and hold You closely, gladly to my breast; J Come—come—oh, little boy, and let Us both forgive and both forget! Your poor, bruised little feet may ache. You think that I have done you wrong; But though your little heart should break, I must be cruel for your sake, For you I must be stern and strong; Make haste, make haste, oh, little one. Or I shall weakly be undone! J The little boy who said good-by , With anger as I watcher him start. Is coming through the gate, and I Forget the wrong he did and fly To clasp h'lm closely to my heart: The stars are gleaming out for joy,’ My little boy, my little'boy! ■ £ ’

Speed Not Necessary.

“Did I understand you to say that your daughter had already secured l a position as a stenographer? I’m so glad to hear it. How sorry I was when they told me your husband’s insurance was not large enough to enable you to live in the style to which you had been accustomed and that it would be necessary for Gertrude to go to work. But I thought shorthand was something which was hard to tearn. She’s only been studying it for a few weeks, hasn’t she?" "Yes, but we feel sure that she’ll bo able to get along all right You see, the man she works for stutters.”

Perhaps.

It may be that the spade Which shall be used to heap The' sod on you is made; > But why sit down to weep, Or be afraid? It may be that somewhere Men eagerly dig down To find the rich and rare Ore which shall form a crown That you may wear.

Congratulated.

"Tell the gentleman,” said Senator Bunksley, addressing his secretary, “that I cannot see him today. I am busy making history.” "Say to the senator for me,” said the caller, after he had, heard the message, "that I am glad to hear he is at last making something else than a monkey of himself.”

A Few Slips.

"How many novels have you written, Mr. Pennington?" “Seven.** “And have all of them been best sellers?’’ ' "No; two or three turned out to be real literature.” • -■ 1 11 1»" ■■ I■ I I .e

Base of His Claim.

“Mr. Addlepalt claims to be a good deal of a ladies' man." "Oh what, I wonder, does he base his claim?" “I believe he has a tipping acquaintance with several affable waitresses."

Careless.

'What kind of a typewriter do you use in your office?” “Well, to tell the truth, I never asked her, but I think she is of Eng-, lish descent.”

If She Hasn’t, She Will. Be.

Almost every American girl has been voted the queen- of beauty at some kind of a festival or fair.”

Progression.

The child that cries for the mooni may live to covet the earth.

Sounds That Way.

Church —A citizen of Newark, N. an active book agent, claims to be 100 i years old. Gotham—But, you know, nobody bw* neves a book agent