Jasper County Democrat, Volume 23, Number 66, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 November 1920 — COMRADES OF PERIL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

COMRADES OF PERIL

By RANDALL PARRISH

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SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Tom Shelby, a rancher, rides In to the frontier town of Ponca looking for a good time after a long spell of hard work and loneliness on the ranch. Instead, he runs into a funeral — that of Dad Calkins, a retired army man of whom little is known. A girl, still in her teens, survives Calkins. CHAPTER ll.—McCarthy, a saloonkeeper and Ponca’s leading citizen, decides that the girl, now alone in the World, should marry. Shelby starts a hunt for eligible husbands and the minister goes to confer with the girt CHAPTER 111The Choice of the Lady. Shelby, accompanied by “Red” Kelly, who had been unceremoniously routed' out of bed after a hard day’s work, were the last to join the company of selects crowded into Dan McCarthy’s office. The -majority were unshaven and roughly dressed, inclined to look on the whole affair as a lark, but there were serious faces among them and altogether, in Shelby’s judgment as he looked them over, they were not a bad lot. He pushed his way through the throng and joined Mac, who stood with his back to the desk. “That’s all of them,” he said quietly. “Now give ’em your spiel an’ we’ll see what comes of It.” \ McCarthy cleared his throat and removed the stump of cigar from between his teeth. "La the door shut tight? AH right. What I’ve got to say is just fer you, boys, an’ ain’t ter be told ’round promlscuse. We started in ter give Ol’ Dad Calkins a proper kind of a funeral an’ sure pulled it off in some style, if I say It myself. Then we decided it was up to us to give the gurl a decent send-off an’ this town chucked in about gve hundred bucks an’ never batted an .eye. When that was over with, I sorter considered that Ponca had about done its share, but the preacher what come down from Buffalo Gap didn’t think the same. He ksed here was a poor girl left with no |*iome an’ no protection and that unless she was taken care of she’d maybe

drift ter h —l an’ back, an’ he argued that it was Ponca’s business ® see that she got started off right. His idee was that she ought ter be married afore she had any chance ter drift and git reckless like a lot o’ them females.” There was an uneasy movement among the crowd and Shelby was amused at the varied expression upon the faces before him. McCarthy paused as though gathering himself together for his rpaln effort. “AU I got ter say is when I thought it all over I concluded the preacher sure had it Sized up about right. That girl is decent an’ has been brought up decent, even if 01’ Dad was a rounder. He kept her straight an’ giv’ her a good education. Now what s goln ter become of her when she’s left alone? I told the 1 preacher Td do my share an’ see to it that Ponca came up to the scratch. I naturally can’t marry her myself, seeing as how I’ve got a wife and five kids hlready, but I’ll do the next best thing—l’ll cough up enough coin to give the fellow who will give her a phance ter make good. She’s goln’ ter have cash ter back much?” “What’s the figure, Dan?” “Two thousand, besides th§ five

hundred already subscribed. That’s more’n some o’ you ducks ever saw.” “Say, Mac, what was the ptan? Cut the cards for furst chance?” “No; this is a sportin’ proposition, with everyone havin’ a fair show,” explained the saloonkeeper. “We sorter picked you boys out as the most likely runts ’rodnd town and intend ter Une you up an’ then let her pick out the one she takes a fancy to. It’s only fair she has a chance to take the duffer she’d rather have.” There was a confused murmur of voices, some reckless, others muttering opposition, but It was evident the proposition rather appealed to the majority, who saw in it a change for some unusual fun and excitement, with only a vague probability of being caught. Shelby slipped in a word. “I’ll bet five to one," he said quietly, “that she turns down the whole gang.” “Ter h —l she will I Not after she gets one glimpse o’ Cowan. She’ll think he owns the town.” “That’s It, boys! Come on, you fellers; the bunch o’ us don’t run no risk. She’ll copper on Cowan an’ If she misses him them sideburns o’ Archibald’s will sure get her goat.” “Is this yere two thousand a sure thing?” It was Gowan who asked somewhat anxiously. “It ain’t got no string tied to it?” A yell greeted the question, punctuated with various remarks. “Takln’ it seriously, old man?” “Goin’ to start an opposition store?” “I guarantee the' sum,” said McCarthy, “every last cent of it. Whoever the girl chooses, when he marries her, I’ll pay him the money. That’s flat an’ you boys know whose talking.” There was a surging forward Indicative of readiness. Evidently the proposition had caught on, and the bunch was eager to learn the result. “Lead us to it, Mac,” someone cried gayly, “gittin’ married Is my long suit.” “All right, boys,” and McCarthy glanced at his watch. “I reckon the preacher ought ter have her ready for the delegation by this time. How about it, Tom?” They moved slowly out, jostling each other, qnd indulging in horse play and rude jokes, none taking the affair seriously, but eager to learn how it would terminatg, McCarthy led the way, directly across the main street, and down the path past the dance hall, which by this time was in full blaze. Beyond they were plunged Into darkness, but could see ahead of them the faint gleam of a light through the window of Calkins’ shack. One or two sought to drop out, but Shelby collared them promptly, so that the entire bunch finally lined up behind McCarthy as he rapped on the closed door. The preacher opened it, his round face beaming benignantly in the glare of the single oil-lamp within, his bulk absolutely blocking the entrance. Beyond, those close at hand had a vague glimpse of the girl, who stood back against the wall, staring toward them with wideopen eyes. The Buffalo Gap man smiled blandly in welcome, Impressed by the number of faces he saw, ttad stepped heavily aside. “Come right in, gentlemen,” he exclaimed, gesturing Impressively with one hand, “our “accommodations are not extensive, as you will perceive, yet ample, I trust. Just circle about the wall there —to the left, please. You have explained the circumstances, Mr. McCarthy?" “Sure.”

"Very well, then,” his voice assuming a soothing tone. “We need waste no unnecessary time in preliminaries. I have very frankly laid the entire matter before the young lady and have finally convinced her of the righteousness of our purpose. Do I fitly express your state of mind, my child?" She lifted her eyes slightly, a red flush burning on either cheek. “I suppose so; that’s what you told me to say.” Shelby, slipping in through the door last of all, had found a precarious seat on the sill of the window, where he had a full view of the room. His glance wandered appreclatlngly along that solemn line of men backed up rigidly against the wall. They were an odd-looking bunch, crowded together under the glare of the oil-lamp, the most of them roughly dressed and unshaven and all of them visibly embarrassed and a little ashamed. The girl stftod alone just before them and to Shelby she appeared younger and far better looking than in the afternoon. She would have been almost pretty but for the pathetic droop at the corners of her mouth and the rebellious, sullen look in her eyes. The preacher spread his hands in disapprobation of her remark. “Oh, no, my dear,” he protested. “I merely labored with you and urged this upon you as the better course. I even made ft the subject of prayer

that we might be divinely guided. It is now a matter entirely for your own decision.” She looked from him to the row of breathless men facing her, impatiently, her bosom rising and falling tumultously. “And I’ve got to choose which one Td rather marry?” “Well, yes, that Is the idea crudely, expressed. Not that you are compelled in any way; only we feel it highly desirable; that —well, perhaps I may say, it is the will of God that you make some such choice.” Her eyes wandered up and down the shrinking line, resting calmly on face after face. If she felt any humor in the situation, there was no expression of it visible. She retained an appearance of sullen Indifference, which was almost insolent. j. “There ain’t no more of ’em?” “No; this Is all." “And I got to pick from these?” The preacher nodded his head, as she glanced inquiringly in his direction. The pent-up breath came in a sigh from between her lips. “Well, if I've got to, I have, I suppose, and, so far as I can see, It don't make no difference. I’ll take the fel-

low slttin’ over there on the window; the one with the pink shirt." Shelby was upon his feet Instantly, so thoroughly startled by this sudden denouement as to scarcely find words. “But say, hold on!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I don’t belong to this bunch; I don’t even live in Ponca. I just came along to help out." The girl looked from face to face in bewilderment, which, judging from the expression of her eyes, was already verging on anger. “What does the man mean?” she asked hurriedly of the preacher, who stood nearest. “You said I was to choose and now he refuses. Did this one not come pledged?" “I am afraid not, my dear. I did not know, but he claims otherwise. He is not a Ponca man.” She fronted Shelby, standing straight, indignant, her eyes flashing coldly. “And you won’t marry me?” “I—l can’t —that’s all,” he stainmered. “Oh, h—l! What did you want to pick me out for?” The girl’s eyes rested hard on his face, then wandered slowly down the line of the others and her lips set firmly. , (TO BE CONTINUED.)

“What I’ve Got to Say Is Just for You Boys.”

"I’ll Take the Fellow Sittin' Over There.”