Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 292, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 April 1923 — Page 8
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Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT, 18 08, BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON
IM a kickin’ yer ribs I | clean inter ye, an’ a Jf makln’ ye run the gantlet, an' here ye air a try In’ to save ’ls life!’’ whined Oncle Jazon. "W’y, man, I thought ye hed some gcnterments! Daat ’ls In jin liver I kin feel them kloks what he guv me till ylt. Ventrebleu! que dlable voulez-vous?" Clark simply pushed Beverley’s pleadings as not worth a moment’s consideration. He easily felt the fine bit of gratitude at the bottom of It all; but there was too much in the other side of the balance; Justice, the disdpllre and confidence of his little army, and the claim of the women and children on the frontier demanded firmness In dealing with a case like Long-Hair’s. "No, no,” he said to Beverley, "I would do anything In the world for you, Fltz, except to swerve an inch from duty to my country and the defenseless people down yonder in Kentucky. I can’t do It. There’s no use to press the matter further. The die Is cast. That brute’s got to be killed, and killed dead. Look at him —look at that scalp! I’d have him killed if I dropped dead for it the next instant. ’* Beverley shuddered. The argument was horribly convincing, and yet, somehow, the desire to save LongHair overbore everything else in his mind. He could not cease his efforts; It seemed to him as if he were pleading for Alice herself. Captain Farnsworth, strange to say, •was the only man in the fort who leaned to Beverley’s side; but he was reticent, doubtless feeling that his position as a British prisoner gave him no right to speak, especially when every lip around him was muttering something about “infamous scalp-buyers and Indian partisans," with whom he was prominently counted by the speakers. As Clark had said, the die was cast. Long-Hair, bound to a stake, the scalp still dangling at his side, grimly faced his executioners, who were eager to fire. He appeared to be proud of the fact that he was going to be killed. "One thing I can say of him.” Helm remarked to Beverley; “he's the grandest specimen of the animal—l might say the brute —man that I ever saw, red. white or black. Just look at his body and limbs' Those muscles are perfectly marvelous." "He saved my life, and I must stand here and see him murdered,” the young man replied with intense bitterness. It was all that he could think, all that he could say. He felt inefficient and dejected, almost desperate. Clark himself, not willing to cast responsibility upon a subordinate, made ready to give the fatal order. Turning to Jxmg-Hair first, he demanded of him as well as Tie could In the Indian dialect of which he had a smattering, what he had to say at his last moment. The Indian, straightened his already upright form. and. by a strong bulg ing of his muscles, snapped the thongs that bound him. Evidently he liad not tried thus to free himself; It was rather a spasmodic expression of savage dignity and pride. One arm and both his legs still were partially confined by the bonds, but his right hand he lifted with a gesture of immense selfsatisfaction, and pointed at Hamilton. "Indian brave; white man coward,” he said, scowling scornfully. "Long Hair tell truth; white man lie. damn." Hamilton’s countenance did not change its calm, cold expression. LongHair gazed at him fixedly for a long moment, his eyes flashing most concentrated hate and contempt. Then he tore the scalp from his belt and Hung it with great force straight toward the captive Governor’s face. It fell short, but the look that went with it did not, and Hamilton recoiled.
At that moment Alice arrived. Her coming wad Just in time to interrupt Clark, who had turned to the waiting platoon with the order of death on hla lipe. She made no noise, save the fluttering of her skirts, and her loud and rapid panting on account of her long, hard run. She sprang before Long-Hair and faced the platoon. "You cannot, you shall not kill this man!” she cried in a voice loaded with excitement. "Put away those guns!” Woman never looked more thrill ingly beautiful to man than she did just then to all those rough stern backwoodsmen. During her fight her hair had fallen down, and it glimmered like soft sunlight around her face. Something compelling flashed out of her eyes, an expression between a triumphant smile and a ray of irresistible beeeechment. I. took Colonel Clark'B breath when he turned and saw her standing there, and heard her words. “This man saved Lieutenant Beverley’s life,” she presently added, getFine for Lumbago Musterole drives pain away and brings in its place delicious, soothing comfort. Just rub it in gently. It is a clean, white ointment, made with oil of mustard. It will not blister like the old-fashioned mustard plas ter. Get Musterole today at your drug store. 35 and 65c in Jars and tubes: hospital size, $3.00. Better Than a Mustard Plaster —Advertisement. FOR ITCHING TORTURE Use Antiseptic Liquid Zemo There is one remedy that seldom fails to stop itching torture and relieve skin irritation, and that makes the skin 6oft. clear and healthy. Any druggist can supply you with Zemo, which generally overcomes skin diseases. Eczema, Itch, Pimples. Rashes, Blackheads, In most cases give way to Zemo. Frequently, minor blemishes disappear overnight. Itching usually Ptops Instantly. Zemo Is a safe, antis-ptic liquid, clean, easy to use and dependable. It costs only ,5.5 c; an extra large bottle. SI.OO. It is positively safe for tender, sensitive skins.—Advertisement.
ting better control of her voice, and sending into it a thrilling timbre; "you shall not harm him —you must not do it!” Beverley was astounded when he saw her, the thing was so unexpected, so daring, and done with such high imperious force; still it was but a’ realization of what he had imagined 6he would be upon occasion. Ile stood gazing at her. as did all the rest, while she faced Clark and the platoon of riflemen. To hear his own name pass her quivering lips, in that tone and in that connection, seemed to him a consecration. "■Would you be more savage than your Indian prisoner?” she went on. "less grateful than he for a life saved? I did him a 6mall, a very small, serv Ice once, and in memory of that he saved Lieutenant Beverley's life, be cause—because —” she faltered for a 1 single breath, then added clearly and 1 with magnetic sweetness —“because Lieutenant Beverley loved me, and because I loved him. This Indian Long-Hair showed a gratitude that could overcome his strongest passion. You white men should be ashamed to fall below his standard." Her words went home. It was as if the beauty of her face, the magnetism of her lissome and symmetrical form, the srweet fire of her eyes and the passionate appeal of her voice gave what she said anew and irresistible force of truth. When she spoke of Beverley’s love for her, and declared her love for him, there was not a manly heart In all the garrison that did not suddenly beat quicker and feel a strange, sweet waft of tenderness. A mother, somewhere, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a sweetheart, called through that voice of absolute womanhood. "Beverley, what can I do?” muttered Clark, his bronze faoe as pale as it could possibly become. ‘‘Do!’’ thundered Beverley; “do! you cannot murder that man. Hamilton is the man you should shoot! He offered large rewards, he inflamed the passions and fed the love of run and the cupidity of poor wild men like the one standing yonder. Yet you take him prisoner and treat him with dis tinguished consideration. Hamilton offered a large sum for me taken alive, a smaller one for my scalp. Long-Hair saved me. You let Hamilton stand yonder in perfect safety while you shoot the Indian. Shame on you. Colonel Clark! shame on you, if you do it!" • Alice st<jod looking at the stalwart commander while Beverley was pouring forth his torrent of scathing ref erence to Hamilton, and she quickly saw that Clark was moved. The moment was ripe for the finishing stroke. They say it Is genius that avails itself of opportunity. Beverley knew the fight was won when he saw what followed. Alice suddenly left LongHair and ran to Colonel Clark, who felt her warm, strong arms loop round him for a single point of time, never to be effaced from his memory; then he saw her kneeling at his feet, her hands upstretched. her face a glorious prayer, while she pleaded the Indian's cause and won It. Itoubtless. while we all rather feel that Clark was weak to be thus swayed by a girl, we cannot quite blame him. Alice’s flag was over him; he had heard her history from Beverley's cunning lips; he actually be lieved that Hamilton was the real culprit. and besides he felt not a little nauseated with executing Indians. A good excuse to have an end of it all did not go begging. But Long-Hair was barely gone over the horizon from the fort, aa free and as villainous a savage as ever trod the earth, whep r discovery made by Oncle Jazon caused Clark to hate himself for what he had done.
The old scout picked up the scalp, which Long-Hair had flung at Hamilton. and examined it with odious curiosity. He had lingered on tho spot with no other purpose than to get possession of that ghastly relic. Since losing his own scalp the subject of crown-locks had grown upon his mind until its fascination was irresistible. He studied the hair of every- person he saw. as a physiognomist studies faces. He held the grewsome thing up before him, scrutinizing it with the expression of a connoisseur who has discovered on a grimy canvas the slg nature of an old master. "Sac’ bleu!" he presently broke forth. "Well I’ll be Look'eo yer, George Clark! Come yer an’ look Ye've been sold ag’in. Take a squint es ye please!” Colonel Clark, with his hands crossed behind him, his face thought fully contracted, was walking rlowly to and fro a little way off. He turned about when Oncle Jazon spoke. ‘‘What now. Jazon?” "A mighty heap right now. that’s what; come yer an' let me show ye. Yer a fine sort o’ eejit, now ain't ye!” The two men walked toward each other and met. Oncle Jazon held up the scalp with one hand, pointing at it with the Index finger of the other "This here scalp come off'n Rene de Ronville’s head.’’ "And who is he?” "Who’s he? Ye may well ax thet. He wuz a Frenchman. He wuz a fine young feller o’ this town. He killed a corp'ral o’ Hamilton’s an’ tuck ter the woods a month or two ago. Hamilton offered a lot o' money for ’lm or is scalp, an’ Long-Hair went in fer kittln' it. Now ye knows the whole racket. An' ye lets that Injun go. An' thet same Injun he mihty nigh kicked my ribs inter my stomach!” Oncle Jazon'h feelings were visible and audible; but Clark could not resent the contempt of the old man’s looks and words. He felt that he deserved far more than he was receiving. Nor was Oncle Jazon wrong Rene de Ronville never came back to little Adrienne Bourcier, although, being kept entirely ignorant of her lov er’s fate, she waited and dreamed and hoped throughout more than two years, after,which there is no further record of ner life. Clark, Beverley and Oncle Jazon consulted together and agreed among themselves that thev would hold profoundly secret the story of the scalp. To have made It public would have exasperated tho creoles and set them violently against Clark, a thing heavy with disaster for all his future plans As It was, the release of Long-Hair caused a great deal of dissatisfaction and mutinous talk. Even Beverley now felt that the execution ordered by the commander ought to have been -jternly carried out. A day or two later, however, the whole dark affair was closed forever
DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—
r/rooD morning ' /‘DEAREST ONE" WHAT / WAS THERE ANT //t WAS FROM Z WHAT WAS wßongV/t WAS FULL ( M!SS-SOMETHIK<:i iff T~~ /A CLEVER START-"HOW MAIL FOR. ME, ( THAT SMART WITH >T?WASN’T fOF SWEET i FOR VOU 1C r L \ V I LONG To SEE You- mush! CMI OL| WA? WHO IS" J MR. 3ACKSON- IT FULL OF SWEET / NOTHINGS AND A MA a,, /THANK \ | HAVE BEEN THINKING )IP 1 THAT LETTER FROM j I'M OFF OF NOTHINGS AS YOU / LOT OF OTHER ALL ‘ YOU- \ |OF YOU NIGHT AND f ; THAT YOU ARE / THAT LEMON. I’LL EXPECTED MUSH, BUT HE Mym nice morning !/ SSk day-more mush- / (L tearing it up? a tell the world- J'i —v SENT me a mry-s l( V r — S can you beat that bird/ ! j m-t- x. I / \ carbon copy: -f V “ 1 „uFr-. y „ 1
jlii i'v ; TELL ME HOW MUCH J HUNDRED AM- J V////// 1 YOU UP HERE WHERE U-/ A / L Y W AS, ELF DAKIN CANT SYAnO ON A SCALE THE S S' F?EGULAR WAY, HE HAS It) DEPEND ON ANY ONE // 'WHO HAPPENS ALONOr FOR THE FiGrURES . O KEA SERVKT " y
TliibM DAYS IS GONE FOREVER—
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by a bit of confidence on’ the part of Oncle Jazon when Beverley dropped Into his hut one evening to have a smoke with him. The rain w-as over, the sky shone like one vast luminary, with a nearly full moon and a thousand stars rein forcing it. Up from the south poured one of, those balmy, accidental wind floods, sometimes dues in February on the Wabash, full of tripical dreamhinhs, yet edged with a winter chill that smacks of treachery. Oncle
OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS
THE OLD HOME TOWN —By STANLEY
Jazon was unusually talkative; he may have had a deep draught of liquor; at all events Beverly had little room for a word. "Well, bein’ as it’s twixt us. as is bosom frien's,” the old fellow presently said, “I’ll jes’ show ye somepin poorty." He pricked the wick of a lamp and took down his bunch of scalps. "I hev been addin’ one more to keep company o' mil) an' the tothers.” He separated the latest acquisition
TEE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES
from the rest of the wisp and added, with a heinous chuckle: “This’n 's Long-Hair’s!” And so it was. Beverley knocked the ashes front his pipe and rose to go. “W’en they kicks yer Oncle .Taxon's ribs,” the old man added, "they'd jes' as well lay down an’ give up, for he's j?oin' to salervate 'em.” Then, after Beverley had passed out >f the cabin, Oncle Jazon chirruped after him: 'Mebbe ye'd better not tell leetle
One of the Many
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‘ Tlie Side Walks of New York"
/7 BUT MWEtI I FIUISH -TUIS \f -rw LOOK’S OF THAT UP iSi ALL-nf MASTERPIECE, I MAY LET rT T)eTOUR SlGkl YOU'RE H BE PUT Ok] EYHIBHIOkI FOR A \ WoBKII jg Q(J UoW , N : SPELL Iki-fUF ART MUSEUM ! -(*'OUlY GALLERY M * aOPup , 1 UAUE UAT> WV CABASES VoU*D UAV E A CUAkICE i *i HUkiG uJ"THe toUYRE of PARIS, oF GEfTMG IT lwL ANYMORE EVE FOR/ the royal art gallery of 1 dould be iU some color tHau a / - • . “ 1 house'•‘—if, \ O E -f of smoked /L. <**?*s?> / k. GLASSES’ /|r feR STARTs VilS CAIWAS = u - - --- ... ii 1..
AJioe. The pure lee tie gal hev h*d worry ‘nough.” CHAPTER XXII A FEW days after the surender of Hamilton, a large boat, the Willing, arrived from Kaakaskia. It was well manned and heavily armed. Clark fitted it out before beginning his march and expected it to be of great assistance to him in the reduction of the fort, but t’he.. high waters and the floating driftwood de-
FRECKLES 'AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER
OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN
layed its progress, so that Its disappointed orewr saw Alice's flag floating bright and high when their eyes first looked upon the dull llttletown from far down the swollen river. There was much rejoicing, however, when they came ashore and w T ere enthusiastically greeted by the garrison and populace. A courier whom they picked up on the Ohio came with them. He bore dispatches from Governor Henry of Virginia to Clark and a letter for Beverley from his father. With them
TUESDAY, APRIL 17,1923
-By ALLMAN
—By AL POSEN
appeared also Simon Kenton, greatly to the delight of Oncle Jazon, wtaa had worried much about his friend since their latest fradalne—as he oalled It*— with the Indians. Meantime, an expedition under Captain Helm had been sent up the river with the purpose of capturing a British flotilla from Detroit. (To Be Continued.) In olden times a live dog was worth less than its skin.
