Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 153, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 November 1922 — Page 8

8

Ramingai ijEWEIJI W-. M ROBERT WCHAMBEBS C GEORGE H DORAN COMDAJJV

CHAPTER II Quintana, on a fox-trot along thè rcck-trail intc Drowned Valley, now thoroughly understood that it was thè oniy sanctuary left hlm for thè moment. Egress to thè southward was eiosed; to thè eastward. also; and he was too wary to venture toward Ghost Lake. No, thè only temporary safety lay in thè swamps of Drowned Valley. He meant to settle matterà with Mike Clinch anyway. He was not afraid of Clinch; not really afrald of anybody. It had been thè dcgs that demoralized Quintana. He’d had no cxperience with huntlng hounds —did noi know what to expect—how to raaneuver. If only he could have seen these beasts that filled thè forest with tbeir hob-goblin outcries —if he could ha\£ had a good look at thè creatures who gave forth that welrd, melancholy volume of sound!— “Bon!” he eaid coolly to bimself. “It was a crisis of nervss which I experienred. Yes. • • * I should have shot him, that fat Sard. Yes. * • • Only those damn dog— And now he shall die an’ rot—that fat Sarti—all bv himse'f, parbleu’—like one big dead thing all alone in thè wood * • • A puddle of guts full of diamonds! Ah! —mon dieu! —a million franca in gt-ms that sliine like festering stars In this damn wood till thè world end. Ah, bah—nomo de dieu de —" “Halte la!” c ime a sharp voice from thè cedar frfnge in front. A pause, then recognltlon; and Henri Piequet walked out on thè hard rldge beyond and stood leaning on his ride and lcoking sullenly at his leader. Quintana carne forward, carelessly, a disagreeable expression in his eyes and on his narrow lips, and continued on past Piequet. As Piequet carne up, Quintana tumed on him, with a gesture toward thè extlnguished Are: “It is eold like hell,” he said. “TYhy do you not have some Are?” “Not for me. non,” growled Picquet, and jerked a dirty thumb in thè direction of thè lean-to. And there Quintana saw a pair of muddy boots protruding from a blanket. "It is Harry Beck, yes?” he inquired. Then something about thè boots and thè blanket sileneed him. He kept his eyes on them for a full minute, then walked into thè leanto. The blanket also covered Harry Beck's features and there was a stain cn it where it outlined thè prostrate man’s features, making a ridge over thè bony nose. Aster a moment Quintana looked around at Piequet: “So. He is dead. Yes?” Piequet shrugged: “Since noon, mon capltaine.” “Comment?” “How shall I know? It was thè Are, perhaps—green wood or wet—it is no matter now • • i said to him. ’Pay attention. Her.rJ; your wood makes too much smoke.’ To me he teply I shall go to hell • • • Well, there was too much smoke for me. I a rise to search for wood more dry’, when, crack!—they begin to shoot out there—” He waved a dirty hand toward thè forest. “ ‘Bon,’ said I, ‘Clinch, he have secn your damn smoke!* " ’What shall I care?' he make reply, Henri Beck, to me. 'Clinch he ehall shoot and be damn to him. I cook me my dejeuner all thè same.’ “I make representatlons to that Johnbull; he say to me that I am a frog, and other lnjuries. while he lay yet more wood on his sacre Are. “Then crack! crack! crack! and eing-gg!—whee-ee! come thè big bullets of Clinch and his voyous yonder. —“ "Bon,* I say, *me, I make my excuse to retlre.’ “Then Henri Bec he laugh and say, ’Hop lt. frog!’ And that ls all he has And tlme to say, when crack! epat! Bien droit he has lt—tenez, mon capltaine—here, over thè left * * * Like a beef surprise he go over, crash! thump! And like a beef that dies, thè air bellows out from his big lungs—” Piequet looked down at thè dead eomrade In a sort of weary comrassion for such stupldity. “ —So he pass. th!s ros-biff goddam Johnbull • • • Me. I roll hlm in there * • • Je ne sais pas pourquoi. * • • Then I put out thè Are and leave.” Quintana let his snerlng plance test on thè dead a moment, and his thin lip curled immemorial conteinpt for thè Anglo-Saxon. Then he divested hfmself of thè hasket-paek which he had stolen from thè Fry boy. “Alors,” he said calmly. “it has been Mike Clinch who shoot my frien’ Beck. Bien.” He threw a cartridge lnto thè breech of his riAe. adjusted his ammunition belt en bandouliere, carelessly. Then. in a quiet voice: “My frien’ Piequet, thè tinse has now arrivo when it become ver’ necssary that we go from her away. Donc—l shail now go kill me my frien’ Mike Clinch.” Piequet, unastonlshed, gave him a heavy, bovine look of inqulry. Quintana eaid softly: “Me, I have enough already of this damn woods. " “J” ball we starve here when thre ' Hes our path?” He pointed north; his arm remained outstretched for a while. "Clinch, he is there,” growled Picquet. “Also our path. l’ar*i Henri • • • And, behind us. they hunt us now with dogs.” Piequet bared his big whlte teeth in Aeree surprise. “dogs?” he repeated with a sort of snarL “That is how they’ now hunt us, my frien’—like they hunt thè hare in thè Cote d’Or. • • • Me, I shall now reconnoitre—that way!” And he looked where he was pointing, lnto thei north—with smoldertng eyes. Then he turned calmly to Piequet: ”An’ you. l’ami?” “At orders, mon capltaine.’’ “C’est bien. Venez.” They walked lelsurely forward with rlAes ehouldered, following thè hard ridge out aerosa a vast and Aooded land where thè bark of trees glimmered with wet mosses. Alter a quarter of a mile thè ridge

broadened and split into two, one hogback branching northeast! They. however, ccntinued north. About twenty minutes later Piequet, creeping along on Quintana’s left, and some sixty yards distant, discovered something moving in thè woods beyond, and Ared at it. Instantly twe unseen riAes spoko from thè woods ahead. Piequet was jerked clear around, lost his balance and nearly fell. Blood w r as spurting from his right arm, between elbow and shoulder. He tried to lift and level his riAe; his arm collapsed and dangled broken and powerless; his ri ile clattered to thè forest Aoor. CLINCH STARED AT THE WOODS IN FRONT OF HIM. For a moment he stood there in plain view, dumb, deathly white; then he began sereaming with fury w’hlle thè big, soft-nosed bullets carne streaming in all around him. His broken arm was hit again. His sereaming ceased; he dragged out his big clasp-knife with his left hand and started running toward thè ahooting. As he ran, his mangled arm Aopping like a broken wing, Byron Hastings stepped out from behind a tree and coolly shot him down at dose quarters. Then Quintana’s riAe exploded twice very’ quickly, and thè Hastings boy stumbled sideways and fell sprawling. He managed to rise to his knees again: he even was trying to stand up when Quintana, taking his time, ddiberately began to empty his magazine into thè boy. riddiing him limb and .body and head. Dowm once more, he stili moved his arms. Sid Hone reached out from behind a fallen log to grasp thè dving teù’s ankle and draw him lnto shelter, but Quintana reioaded swiftly and smashed Hone’s left hand with thè Arst shot. Then Jim Hastings, kneellng behind a bunch of juniper, Ared a high-ve-lccity bullet into thè tree behind which Quintana stood; but before he could ; lire again Quintana's shot in reply carne ripping through thè juniper and tc-re a ghastly ho!e in thè calf of his leg, striklng a blow that knocked young Hastings Aat and paralyzed as a dead Aounder. A mile to thè north, blocking thè other exit from Drownd Valley, Mike Clinch, Chase, Comelius Blommers, and Dick Berry stood listenlng to thè shooting. “B’gosh,” blurted out Chase, “it sounds like they was goln’ through, Mike. B’gosh, it does!" Clinch’s little pale eyes blazed, but he said in his soft, agreeable voice: “Stay right here, boys. Like as not some of ’em arili come this way.” The shooting belou’ ceased. Clinch' nostrils expandod and Aattened with e very breath, as he stood glaring into thè woods. “Harve,” he said presently, “you an’ Comy go down there an’ kinda look around. And you signal if l’m wanted. G'wan, both o’ you. Git!” They started. running heavily, but thelr feet made little noise on thè rr.oss. Berry carne over and stood near Clinch. For ten minutes neither man moved. Clinch stared at thè man’s nervous glance Aickerd like a snake’s tongue in every direction, and he kept moistening his ilps with his tongue. Presently two shots carne from thè south. A pause: a rattle of shots from hastily emptied magazines. "G'wan down there, Dick!" said Clinch. “You'll be alone, Mike —” *’Au' right. You do like I say; git along qulck!” Berry walked southward a little way. He had turned very wflite under his tan. “Gol ding ye!” shouted Clinch, •’take it on a lope or I’ll kick thè pants off’n ye!” Berry began to run, carrying his riAe at a trail. For half an hour there was not a sound in thè forest of Drowned Valley except in thè dead timber where unseen woodpeckers hammered Atfully at thè ghosts of ancient trees. (To Be Continued)

GIVES JUDGE AUTO Sing Sing Convict Will Have No Use for it for Two Years. NEW YORK. Nov. Unable to uso his automobile while sojoumlng for from two and one-half to Ave years In Sing Sing, John Jansky, Just committed for assault in this city, has Bigned papera transferring thè touring car to his attorney for legai Services. Accordlng to piison attendants, thè car was transferred by thè prisoner to Attorney Samuel Golden. Jansky is thè flrst prisoner to own an automobile since Robert Brindoll, building trade union leader, arrived at Sing Sing two years ago. FIGHTS GIANT SNAKE LOS ANGELES. Nov. 6—Attacked by a boa constrictor, recently eaptured in Africa, Frank Weinberg, animai trainer, suffered severe lacerations. The snake wrapped its coils about Weinbuerg’s right thigh and thè trainer forced his right hand into thè reptile’s mouth, choking it for Ave minutea before thè snake let go.

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

qJIF VODTWO QUIT 'WfI C I "il /’WELL.VOU ì W //1 flfU'l I ~ ' !*****> HAD POT THE L |( PLANING WITH THAT , ! p— JLx \ HEARO me! / //[/ l 1 I 1 I, ffi NOVy TAKE J NOW VOI) SEE ?\i gAU. AWAV WHEN ITOLO JIU4 JUt FOOTOAU IM THE / Aìa/ Ar Vs- T* ('# $ ‘ f ™ AT F °OTOALL WHO &ROKE V OU IT WOOLON’T J HOuSE Vol> V 6REAK / Ci hT AW, WHAT ARE j tÒ M, AND PuT IT 1 \ THE WINDOW ?j V HAVE HAPPENED ! / ’ ...A.l NJ/ V ì

Xjv (NO WAV TTRAIN ) j KIN t LEARN ÌM T \ IT\ (NO HUNTiN' DOCfl ) \ SMELL AROON FHff ì TT ) HOLDIN HfòHEAD ( ( RABBITS, MUH ? / ■ ■ C jv.'i. like That: . 1 h* COMPULSORY EDUCATION "" " JJRvJLm*, — A

THEM DAYS IS GOXE FOREVER—

AR6 noo\ coieL voo cahg THEM PÀVS IJ 1 FRESH - t N€V£R SAW SUCH VOO 00 UNUESS HIS 08wtl UAS OFFICE BOY , VOO WCRE SO SAUP *"01 VPSS ♦

mmmmr h jw a iEp&xrt TANARUS) 1 lIPMI Li TP NEWTSHESI r- NWDE TO | DROSS-PARE6ORIC j pg ! AND BU<- NIUVTAW?’ ") L fY"' ' ' =~i li PLASTEM PlAWOftwwd §?& | CWWdM \ v^ wi ™ leather | X fyil A if* 'pzr ~ ATS F ° R WHITTIJ^ OTEY WALKEK, WHO RgCEKTEV . . CAPTURED THE BANK ROBBE^S,IS “THE HARVEST OF GIFTS FROM APPFEOATTVE TDWAiSMEH. J

MOVIE FLAPPER CURE New Jersey Mothers Open Campaign

Bu United Tirws ATLANTIC CITY, Nov. 6.—Flappers who are following thè wrong llnes in dress and behavior need only a gllmpse of thè reai thlng in mal-

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY

denly demeanor to set them stralght, declared New Jersey mothers Wednesday as they laid plans for a motion picture campaign against extreme clcthes and ra&nners before thè open-

Nab This Oli Your Noiscless.

ing session of thè New Jersey Mothers’ Congress and Parent-Teacher Association. A screen contrast between pictures cf thè typical flapper, enjoying herself in what she believes to be a modish manner, and pictures, on thè other hand, of thè girl of reflnement enjoying herself in a reflned manner, will bring misinformed misses to thèlr senses, declared Mrs. Frank O. Ever-

Evcrything Is “Balled” Up

r toourr TVl’ (ffUMPCoPS* L (?55 ; I t' ( MISTER SAVjg MS .\\ /. \ Go T ’- BURSNERV 1 y'J VHUEW T SoT SOME SQOCER\ES“ I( vtau aw- l I GCocEGV \ 1 Polì MOIA. 'jnzA S L-c l # nTA cl ’CAUSf W 5 ALMJAVS* J \\ \ : ì nCTN i r SAME ME WUEM I ,l|ii| , \ SbTSDME'TAToSS j

f MSTEEFUPSHBJ, Y JUST 1

' S^/ A TER AcBAIv! 4-lUAT LODGE L ARWAUG\kiG A pT FOR \J9 Z VJAS A FEED A4' gi\c; udpnpTJFV STUkiT 41G14T AkiD VIMV, TWeV'D “TWeiR KIAHES Ikl Pirr WILL PAVVoO $ MO y SIUG-mEMSELVES PRlkrr OKI-TV' 04 OURACT- FORVOUR ACT '4 BALD MEAE vi PROfiRAMS (T HAUDS ME A / I’LL VORnfe AfJ’DAUCEA F LAUQH A-T-tH' / 'EH BACK-THATALU MOLE Ul“W' U MOMEV-IHeVEVER PRiCB ~TPeV / TWeV CAkl GETOkI STAGE FoRTHAT PASSET) UP WAS \ J “THEIR GTAGE AT* MUO* TACK- ì VJFEKI tvleV VoFFER uey THBR VMEREfe \ V A —T \^ì g^ V M " sp)U(Sftd & PIKOd* shub Ad offer’

ett of Trenton, who led thè new attack on “flapperism" in an address at a preliminary board meeting The main convention, attended by 500 delegates who represent 25,000 members, CAN SLEEP NOW NEW YORK, Nov. 6.—Members of Are companlea in thè Greenwloh Vii*

FRECKLES iVND HIS FRIENDS —By BLOSSER

OUR BO.UiDING HOUSE—Bt AHEBN

lage section believe they have no more sleepless nights as a result of false alarms of Are being sounded by a woman who always escaped before thè arrivai of thè apparatus. In sentencing Miss Margaret Mooney, 50 years old, to thirty days in thè workhouse, Magistrate Moses R. Ryttenberg reprimanded thè woman for

NOY. 6, 1922

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN

ber acts. She was arrested aster sh* had sent in a false alarm and waa running away from thè scene. She was identifled by acting BatJalion Chief Louie Graves as thè woman who had ben suspected of calling out thè Are apparatus on several occasions. Xccording to thè police Miss Mooney had been arrested more than a score of Urne* for dioordody conduci. U