Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 February 1909 — The Round-Up [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Round-Up

A' 'Romance of Arizona Novelised From Edmund Dey’s Melodrama

By JOHN MURRAY and MILLS MILLER

SYNOPSIS. Chapter I— Returning with gold from the twines to an Arizona ranch to claim Echo Allen, his promised bride, Dick Lane Is attacked by Apaches led by Buck McKee, a renegade. After spending six months in a hospital Lane writes to his friend Jack Payson, owner of the Sweetwater ranch, to tell Echo he is coming home. He tells Payson he has $3,000 to pay a mortgage placed by Jack on his ranch to help him. ll—Colonel Jim Allen, owner of the Bar One ranch, is father of Echo and father by adoption of Polly Hope, Dick and Bud Lane. Polly and Bud are sweethearts. In Dick’s absence Echo falls in love with Jack, realizing that her love for Dick was merely friendship. Dick is believed to be dead, owing to the return of McKee with a lying story. Bud “chums” with McKee despite the warnings of Slim Hoover, the fat and popular sheriff. Echo and Jack become engaged. 111. — Echo declares to Jack after the latter suppresses Dick’s letter, fearing to lose her, that she will be true to her promise to Dick If he returns. Bud quarrels with Jack about Echo, the boy championing his absent brother’s cause. IV —Aided by Bud, McKee murders Terrill, the station agent, stealing from him $3,000 of county money. McKee suggests to Bud that Dick may still be living. V—The boys gather at the Allen ranch fofr the wedding of Echo and Jack. VI and Vll—McKee plans to to throw suspicion of Terrill’s murder on Jack, and he and Bud go to the Allens’ for the weding. McKee raises a disturbance and is put out.

CHAPTER VIII. THE Rev. Samuel Price was the representative of the Christian army in Pinal county, Arte., at the time of our story. He was long and lank, narrow in the chest, with sloping shoulders. Even life on the plains could not eradicate the 'scholarly droop. His trousers were black, and they bagged at the knees. When riding his trousers would work up about his calves, showing a wide expanse of white socks. For comfort he wore an alpaca coat, which hung

loosely about him, and for the dignity of his profession the only boiled shirt in the county, with a frayed collat and white string tie. The Rev, Mr. Price was, HkVd by the settlers. He never interfered with what they considered their relaxations, and he had the saving grace of humor. The guests were performing a scalp dance about the table when he entered the room. For a tomtom Parenthesis was beat-

ing a bucket with a gourd and emitting strange cries with each thump. The noise and shouts confused the minister. As he was blundering among the dancers they fell upon him with warwhoops, slapping him on the back and crushing bis straw hat over his ears. Slim was the first to recognize the minister. He dashed into the group and, swinging several aside, cried to the others to desist. “Pardon me, but do I Intrude upon a scalp dance?” smilingly asked the parson. “You sure have. Mr. Price,” laughed Slim. “We hain’t got to the scalpin’ part yet, but we’re Axin’ to dance off Payson’s scalp tonight.” Peering at him with nearsighted eyes, Mr; Price extended his hand, saying, “Ah, Mr. Hoover, our sheriff, is it not?” Slim wrong the parson’s hand until the preacher winced. Hiding his discomfort, he slowly straightened out his fingers with a painful grin. Slim had not noticed that he had hurt the parson by the heartiness of his greeting. With a gesture he lined up the cowboys for introduction. “Yes, sir, the boys call me Slim because I ain’t.” Pointing to tfce first one in the group, he exclaimed, “This Is Parenthesis.” Mr. Price looked at the awkwardly bowing cowboy in amazement. The name was a puzzle to him. He could not grasp the application. “The editor of the Kicker,* explained Slim, “called him that because of his legs bein’ built that way.” Mr. Price was forced to smile in spite of his efforts to be polite. The editor had grasped the most striking feature of the puncher's physical characteristics for a label. Parenthesis beamed on the minister, “I was born on horseback,” he replied. “That fellow there with a front tooth is Show Low,” began Slim, speaking like a lecturer in a freak show. “The one without a front tooth is Fresno, a California product. This here chap with the water dob hair is Sagebrush Charley. It makes him sore when you call him plain Charles.” “Charley bein’ a Chink name,” supplemented Its owner.

' Silence fell over the group, for they did not know what was the proper thing to do next. A minister was to be respected and not to be made one of them. He must take the lead in the conversation. Mr. Price was at a loss to begin. He had not recovered fully from the roughness of his welcome, sb Slim took the lead again.

“I heard you preach once up to Florence,” he announced, to the profound astonishment of his hearers.

"Indeed," politely responded Mr. Price, feeling the futility of making any further observation. He feared to fall into some trap. The answers made by the boys did not seem to fit particularly well with what he expected and was accustomed to. The parson could not make out whether the boys were joking with him or whether their replies were unconscious humor on their part.

"Yep;! I lost an election bet an’ had to go to church,” answered Slim in all seriousness.

The cowboys laughed, and Mr. Price lamely replied, “Oh, yes, I see.” “It was a good show,” continued Silm, doing his best to appear at ease. The frantic corrections of his companions only made him flounder about the more. “Excuse me,” he apologized. “I mean that I enjoyed it.” “Do you recall the subject of my discourse,” Inquired Mr. Price, coming to his assistance. “Your what course?” asked Slim. “My sermon?” answered the parson. “Well, 1 should say yes,” replied the sheriff, greatly relieved to think that he was once more out of deep water. “It was about some Shorthorn that jumped the home corral to maverick around loose in the alfalfa with a bunch of wild ones.”

The explanation was too much for Mr. Price. Great student of the Bible that he had been, here was one lesson which he had not studied. As told by Slim, he could not recall any text or series of texts from which he might have drawn similes fitted for his cowboy congregation, when he had one. “Really, I” he began. Slim, however, was not to be interrupted. If be stopped he never could begin again, he felt. Waving to the preacher to be silent, he continued bis description. “When his wad was gone the bunch threw him down, an’ be had to hike for the sagebrush an’ feed with the hogs on husks an* sech like winter fodder.”

The minister caught the word “husks.” Slim was repeating his own version of the parable of the prodigal son.

“Husks? Oh, the prodigal son!” smiled Price.

“That’s him,” Slim sighed, with relief. “This here feed not bein’ up to grade, Prod he ’lows he’d pull his freight back home, square himself with the old man an’ start a new deal”— '

Sagebrush was deeply interested in the story. Its charm had attracted him, as it had scholars and outcasts alike since first told 2,000 years ago on. the plains of old Judea.

“Did he stand for it?” he interrupted. “He sure did,” eloquently replied Slim, who was surprised and delighted with the great impression he was making with his experience at church. “Oh, he was a game old buck, he was. Why, the minute he sighted that there prodigious son a-limpin’ across the mesa he run right out an’ fell on his neck”— “An’ broke it,” cried Fresno, ( slapping Sagebrush with his hat in his delight at getting at the climax of the story before Slim reached it.

The narrator cast a glance of supreme disgust at the laughing puncher. “No," he shouted; “he hugged him. Theu he called in the neighbors, barbecued a yearlin’ calf an’ give a barn dance, with fireworks in the evenin’.” “That’s all right in books," observed Sagebrush, “but if I’d made a break lijke that when I was a kid my old man would ’a’ fell on my neck for fair.”

“That was a good story, parson. It’s straight, ain’t it?” asked Slim as a wave of doubt swept over him. “It's gospel truth,” answered the minister. “Do you know the moral of the story?” “Sure.” replied Slim. With a confidence born of deep self assurance, Slim launched the answer, “Don’t be a fatted calf.”

At first his hearers did not grasp the full force of the misapplication of the parable. Mr. Price could not refrain from laughing. The others joined with him when the humor of the reply dawned upon them. Pointing scornfully at the fat sheriff, they shouted gleefully, while Slim blushed through his tan.

“Now, if you’ll kindly show me where”— began Mr. Price. “Sure. All the liquor’s in the kitchen,” said Sagebrush, expanding with hospitality. Slim pushed Sagebrush back into his chair, and Parenthesis tapped the minister on the shoulder to distract his attention.

“Thanks. I meant to ask for a place to change my clothes.” “Sure you mustn’t mind Sagebrush there,” apologized Parenthesis. “He’s alius makln* breaks. Let me tote your war bag. Walk this way.” “Good day,’ gentlemen,” smiled Mr. Price. “When you are up. my. way I

jrust you will honor my church with your presence”—adding after a pause—"without waiting to lose an election bet."

The entrance of a greaser to refill glasses diverted the attention of the guests until the most important function for them was performed. With “Hows!” and “Here’s to the bride!” they drank the toast. Slim, as major domo of the f°ast, felt it Incumbent upon himself to keep the others in order. Turning angrily upon Sagebrush, he said, “Why did you tell the sky pilot where the liquor was?” “I was just trying to do the right thing,” answered Sagebrush defiantly. “Embarrassln’ us all like that You ought to know that paysons don’t hit up the gasoline—in public,” scolded Slim.

Sagebrush muttered sulkily, “I never herded with parsons none.” Parenthesis diplomatically avoided any further controversy by calling: "They’re gettfn’ ready. Jim’s got Jack in the back room tryln’ to cheer him up. Boys, is everything ready for the getaway?” “Sagebrush, did you get that rice?” demanded Slim.

“That’s so—l forgot I couldn’t get no rice, though. Dawson didn’t have none.”

Without telling what he did get Sagebrush ran from the room to the corral.

“I told you not to let him have anything to do with it” said Fresno, glaring at his fellow workers. Each was silent, as the accusation was general, and none had been taken into the confidence of Sagebrush and Fresno when arrangements were being made for the feast Fresno had to blame. some one, however. By this time Sagebrush had returned, carrying a bag. “What did you get?” asked Slim. “Corn,” repl’ed Sagebrush laconically.

“Ain’t he the darndest!” Show Low expressed the disgust which the others showed.

“Why, darn it,” shouted Slim, shaking his fist at the unfortunate Sagebrush, “you can’t let the bride an’ groom hop the home ranch without chuckin’ rice at ’em. It’s bad' medicine.”

"Ain’t he disgustin’!” Interrupted Fresno.

“What does rice mean, anyhow?” asked the bewildered Sagebrush.

“It means somethin’ about wishin’ ’em good luck, health, wealth an’ prosperity an’ all that sort of thing. It’s a sign an’ symbol of joy,” rattled off Slim.

“Well, now, ain’t there more joy in corn than in rice?” triumphantly asked Sagebrush. Slim jerked open the top of the bag while Sagebrush stood by helplessly. “Well, the darned idiot!” he muttered as he peered into it. “If he ain’t gone an’ got it on the ear!” he continued as he pulled a big ear out. “All the better,” chuckled Sagebrush. “We’ll chuck ’em joy in bunches.”

“Don’t you know that if you hit the bride with a club like this you’ll put her plumb out?” cried Slim. Sagebrush was not cast down, however. Always resourceful, he suggested, “We’ll shell some fer the bride, but we’ll hand Jack his in bunches.”

The idea appealing to the punchers, each grabbed an ear of corn. Some brandished the ears like clubs; others aimed them like revolvers.

“I’ll keep this one,” said Slim, picking out an unusually large ear. “It’s a 44. I’ll get one of the greasers to shell some fer the bride.”

The bride was arrayed in her weding gown. Mrs. Allen was ready for a fresh burst of weeping. The girls had assembled in the large room in which the ceremony was to be performed. Polly acted as herald for the cowboys. Appearing in the doorway, she commanded, “Say, you folks come on an’ get seated!” Slim stood beside Polly as the boys marched past him. His general admonition was, “The first one of you Shorthorns that makes a break I’m goin’ to bend a gun over your head!” The guests grinned cheerfully as they marched past the couple. “There’s a heap of wickedness in that bunch,” remarked Slim piously

“1/ he ain't gone an’ got it on the ear!” to the girl. Tossing a flower to him as she darted away, she cried, “You ain’t none too good yourself, Slim!” “Ain’t she a likely filly?” mused the lovesick sheriff. “If there's anybody that could make me good it’s her. I’m all in. If ever I get the nerve all at once, darn me if I don’t ask her right out!” But Slim’s courage oozed as quickly as it had rtsen, and, with a sigh, he followed his companions to the wedding. (To be Continued)

The Rev. Samuel Price.