Jasper County Democrat, Volume 23, Number 69, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 November 1920 — Page 7

, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1920

COMRADES OF PERILS

, x SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Tom Shelby, a rancher, ridea In to the frontier town of Ponca looking for a good time after a long spell pf bard work and loneliness on the panch. Instead, he runs into a funeral—that of Dad Calkins, a retired army man of whom little Is known. A girl, still In tier teens, survives Calkins. CHAPTER n.—McCarthy, a saloonkeeper and Ponca's leading citizen, decides that the girl, now alone in the World, should marry. Shelby starts a bunt for eligible husbands and the minister goes to confer with the girt CHAPTER lll.—She agrees to pick a busband from a score of men lined up In her home. To his consternation, she selects Shelby, who had gone along merely Ka spectator. He Reclines the honor. dlgnant, the girl dismisses the assemblage. Later, Shelby goes back to make kn explanation. She receives him good baturedly. CHAPTER IV. The Proposal. He stared back at the closed door, still dazed but capable of swearing at himself for being such a blame fool. He felt a vague suspicion that he had acted foolishly and that the girl was -amused at his awkward embarrassment. The interview had proven altogther different from what he had anticipated; the tears he had come to wipe away were conspicuous by their absence, and instead of bringing comfort and courage to an extremely mortified young lady, he had found her filled with merriment over the affair and quite Indifferent as to its outcome. She was different from anything he had previously conceived. He had confidently expected to encounter a rather ordinary young woman of the commonplace frontier type—the kind he had known for years. She had proven herself nothing like what he had conceived. She had been

smiling and self-possessed, mocking him with her good humor and treating ' the whole affair as a joke. He was the victim, rather than she, evidently, in her estimation ; and he had actually felt like a raw boy in her presence, unable to think of a word to say or what to do with either hands or feet. How immaculately clean she was and ready of speech. He saw again the picture of her, sitting there facing him, her eyes meeting him frankly. Yes, she had made a fool of him, all right, and he turned and strode up the path, oblivious to all else but his gloomy thoughts. _ , There were numerous people on the main street, although the principal groups were before the dance hall and McCarthy’s saloon. Shelby stopped in the glare of the former to consider what he had better do, his mind vibrating between joining the others at the bar or seeking his bed at the hotel. He was still undecided when two men suddenly bumped into him and he recognized Cowan and “Red” Kelly, both drunk enough to be ugly and insulting. The first stared into his face with a sneer. “H—l, ‘Red,’ if here ain’t the bridegroom,” he exclaimed Insolently. “Say, where you been all this time?” Shelby drew back slightly, but held bls temper, his brain instantly clearing. “I don’t hold that to be any of your business,” he replied coldly. “Well, by thunder, it is, just the same. You butted into this game without no warrant, an’ yer* playin’ us fer a parcel of fools. Fer one, I don’t stand fer it. It was a put-up job. You an’ her are in cahoots for that money. She didn’t never look at one o’ us. Your pretendin’ to be surprised was too darn thin. H —l! I bet yer just come over from bein’ with her an’ laughin’ at us—yer d—n skunk!” Shelby’s face hardened and his teeth set grimly. “Don’t go too far, Cowan,” he warn-

ed sternly. got some reputation as a fightin’ man myself an' I don’t take everything peaceably. Now, listen to me, you drunken brute, and keep a civil tongue in your head. I have seen the girl, but we didn’t talk none about marriage and, what’s more, I wouldn’t touch that money, not a cent of it, even if I was to marry her —she ain’t that kind, ner I ain’t.’ “Gosh, you must think I’m a sucker, Tom Shelby. What the h—l you got to git married on? I’ll bet yer never seed two thousand before in all your life. Tell that to the marines—there ain’t nobody goln’ to marry her except for the cash.” “What do you mean?” “Why, she’s homely as a hedge fence. •Red’ was just sayin’ that if she’d a picked him, he’d have jumped the reservation, money or no money. Yer can’t string me!” “You say she’s homely?” “I sure do, an’ as damn mean as she looks, I reckon.” i Shelby’s face was like flint and his tight fist crashed square Into Gowan’s sneering Ups. The fellow went toppling over £nd before he even knew E*hat had happened the ranchman was pon him, holding him flat to the

By RANDALL PARRISH

earth and pommeling with both bands. Jt was soon over with, Shelby giving his opponent no chance to break away, Interspersing his bl#ws with a frank expression of feeling. “You measly hound ! Goin’ to marry her for money, am I? Maybe you'd like to say that ag’in, d —n you 1 That’s 'bout the size o’ your soul, Cowan. Take that, you whelp! You won't be so d —n beautiful yourself when I get through. There now I Perhaps you’ll lay quiet awhile!” He got to his feet and glared about into the ring of interested faces defiantly. “Any more of yer want to say what he did?” he demanded. “Here, you, Kelly; you laughed when that dirty pup said she was homely as a hedge fence! Come here, you red-headed terrier,” and he gripped him by the throat shaking the fellow helplessly

The Fellow Went Toppling Over.

back and forth in his mad rage. “I’m goln’ ter marry that girl, if she’ll have me, an’ there ain’t nobody goln’ to slam the looks o’ my wife, either. You get that, you coyote? What do yer think of it now—hey? Spit it out; what do you think of her now?” Kelly had to spit It out; it was all he could do with those fingers gripping him. “Let go—d—n It—let go I H—l! She’s —she’s the handsomest woman I ever saw; you—you let go o’ me!” Shelby flung him to one side in utter disgust, hurling an oath after him as he reeled dizzily into the protection of the crowd. He cast his eyes once in contempt about the circle, seeking some other antagonist and finding none.

“To h —l with all of you!” he declared. “Get out of the way therel” They fell back to give him safe passage and he strode straight on past the dance hall and turned down the dark path leading back to Calkins’ shack. He had but one thought now, one purpose; he had burned his bridges behind him. After what he had said and done only a single coursfe remained. Without a pause or a regret he went straight to the door and rapped. It was no timid touch of the knuckles this time; he was still too angry to either hesitate or doubt. And there was no sign of embarrassment in word or act when the door opened and she stood there looking at him in wonderment. * “I’ve come back to say another word to you,” he announced simply. “I’d like to come in.” “Something has happened?” “It has; I’ve just had to lick two pups who got too gay ’bout you. They said some things an’ I said some things. Now I’m aimin’ to make good. You said you’d marry me awhile ago; does that hold?” She was leaning against the table, staring at him; her face seemed to go white and her,hands toyed nervously with a knife she had picked up. “You —you had trouble , with two men, over me?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What men?” “‘Red’ Kelly and a gazabo named Cowan; they was both here.” “Oh; they were angry at you for that?” “Sure; not because you didn’t take no notice of them; then they got drunk an’ undertook to ride me; said it was a put-up job between us ter get away with that money.’’ “What money?’’ “The twenty-five hundred you was goln’ to get. The preacher told you about that, didn’t He?” She shook her head, evidently bewildered. _ _

THE TWICE-A-WEEK DEMOCRAT

“Where was 1 going to get all that money?" “Why, McCarthy was puttin’ It up; he and some other bucks, so as to give you a start after you was married.” She drew a deep breath, looking straight into his eyes. “You mean those men came here for that?” indignantly. “They were willing to marry me so as to get that money? Good God ! I was to be sold ! Is that actually true? Nobody ever hinted such a shameful thing to me.” “Well, I reckon they didn’t mean no harm by that,” he tried to explain. “You don’t just see it right. They figured that Old Calkins had died an' left you without a cent, sorter helpless out here, an’ that the town owed you a decent chance ter git married an’ settle down. That’s what the money was given for." “But those fellows all knew It. That was what made them agree F’ “I reckon maybe it was—mostly, at least." She twisted her hands together, a hot, red flush coming Into each cheek. “Well, I’m glad to know that. Now what was It those two men said, the men you had the trouble with?" “Well, you see, Cowan was drunk an’ naturally all worked up. He's a sort o’ good-lookin’ chap an think* he cuts quite a swale with women." “But what did he say?” “Well, he run into me up there on the street just now, him and ‘Red’ Kelly, an’ said I was after you for that money. I told him he was a liar an’ then sorter let loose a remark I didn’t take kindly.” “What remark?” “He —he sorter insinuated that I’d never marry you for any other reason.” “He did—why?” “Well," he blurted out desperately, finding no possible way of escape, “he sorter said you wasn't awful good lookin’ an’ then I pasted him. That’s all.” Her lips parted, her eyes opening wide in astonished amusement. “That I wasn’t good looking!” she laughed. “And you actually hit him for that?” “I sure did; the other pup laughed an’ he got his dose about the same time. I didn’t hurt ‘Red’ Kelly none; just shook a little sense into him, but I reckon It’ll be a week before Cowan gets out much. Then I come down here.” “To ask me to marry you?”

-—'“That’s the idea. I told ’em I’d do it ’Tain’t likely you’ll feel now the same way you did at first, but if you do, then I'm in the game. I ain’t got much; I told you all 'bout tl\at, but if you’re a mind to rough it up on the Cottonwood, I’m here to go shares with you.” . The girl gazed at him in silence, her breath coming quickly, almost in sobs, a strange, misty light in her eyes. “You —actually want me to marry you?” “Sure; that’s what I come back for.” “Are —are you after that twenty-five hundred dollars?” “H—l, no 1” emphatically. “I forgot to tell you 'bout that I won’t take a d —n cent of it That’s what I told them hounds an’ I’ll tell McCarthy the same thing. I ain’t that kind to marry no girl cause she’s got coin. The five hundred is yours, fair an’ square, but there don’t none o’ that two thousand go into my jeans. That’s got to be part o’ the bargain.” “But you don’t know anything about me?” He grinned good-humoredly. “I reckon there may be some things you’ll discover about me, fer the matter o’ that. Maybe it’s ’bout as fair one way as another.” “Yes, I suppose it is. You really mean what you have said?” “I sure do.” “When? How soon?”. “Tomorrow morning. I aim to get

"Will You Take a Chance?"

out o’ here as soon as I can. How is it—will you take a chance?” His voice was strangely earnest, and his eyes, as she ventured to glance up, wek honest and kindly. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I will, Tom Shelby.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Perhaps the most quickly written hymn was “From Greenland’s Icy Mountains,” which was composed by Bishop Heber In little more than 15 minutes.

I Fooling I Himself! I |W U dRf This skinny critter is busy a * makin S believe b® * s a at steer l But h* s d®" i u siop is no more complete than that of the farmer who thinks he saves money by raising cheap scrubs. These days, when the margin between feed cost and selling price on the hoof is uncertain, there is on y one economical kind of steer—the pure-bred. His superiority over the scrub can be measured in size, in quality, in pounds of beef for pounds of feed consumed —and finally in dollars on the credit side of the farm ledger. In a series of advertisements in articles on better beef cattle, ■ this newspaper, we shall demon- and its many fact-stories of I strate that pure-breds make the successful farmers who have beef for which the packer pays prospered from the steadily infl the highest price. They are your creasing demand for pure-bred I big money-makers when the breeding stock. market is up, your surest source „ you are nQt a subscriberi let of profit w en it drops. The CoUNTRY Gentleman enFor this publicity in the interest roll you along with the rest of I of pure-bred beef cattle, we are its progressive farmer subscrib- ’H indebted to The Country Gen- ers. Fifty-two issues of a year’s TLEMAN. Ifyou are now a reader subscription come for just SI.OO. you know its frequent helpful Yes, your check is good. I Indiana Shorthorn Breeders Association I W. B. KRUECK, Secretary R. F. D. No. 6 Angola, Indiana THE COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, Philadelphia, Pa. I’m glad to see you pushing our organization with good advertising. And here’s my dollar for a subscription H for one year, fifty-two issues. The two go well together. (My Name) — — ■ (My Address) — I (Town) —(State) I

WITH THE DAY’S WORK DONE

Thanksgiving Day May Be Likened to the Beginning of a Long and Pleasant Evening. As each Thanksgiving day approaches It becomes more and more apparent to those who are in the habit of meditating upon affairs in general that the spirit of the occasion la one to Inspire individual sensation, and that expression of that sensation falls short of the mark. There Is in the Thanksgiving season a sort of benign pause to the energies of the year, a' subconsciousness of filled granaries and of hay packed In the barn loft, the cattle crunching In the stalls, and the drapery of the trees laid by for the approaching winter. It is the twilight of the year; the chores are done- and the men folks come stamping at the doorstep. The dinner Is steaming on the table and soon, the food eaten, we will settle down for the long evening. It has been a big day. The men folks have finished a mighty harvest In Europe and come. home. We give thanks for those that come home because they are the living symbols of the nation’s courage; and for those that will not come again save in the spirit, for they have been transfigured In the flame of the great conflict. And there will be our thanks for the stout hearts of American mothers who bore in silence and fortitude the burdens of their agonies ; for these are the symbols of the nation’s devotion to pure Ideals.

HIS THANKSGIVING WISH

Boy—Jenny, I’d like to oe round dead wid dat whole turkey tn me stummick an’ dat bill o’, fare for a tombstone!

American films are great favorites in France, and they ard looked to for the redemption of the French movie theater, which has been laboring under the criticism of being vulgar. "

Thanksgiving Time.

When brimming barns reward the workfilled year, When fuel-plies and blns bring Indoor cheer When life and health have clung to those we love, The normal human heart will look above And thank a blessed Source for what He sends In basket, store and Intercourse with friends. When through another year our nation’s soul Has triumphed though the war-waves madly roll; When In our lives still live the patriot fires To fan the which each loyal heart aspires; When we all unashamed can face the world And Stars and Stripes unblemished are unfurled— Then and then always shall we deem it meet To send aloft a prayer as incense sweet For grateful hearts to feel and tongues to say Feelings and words that fit Thanksgiving Day. Bing on! God’s goodness never can be told- '

"The good die young,” for good cannot grow old! L’Envoi

(A bas the Scrooge-like soul with accents gruff Who sees our theme and grimly sneers ••Old Stuff.’’) . —Strickland Glllilan In Farm Life. If we kept count of' our blessings, every day would be 7 a Thanksgiving day. , ' X

Washington, D. C., has an interesting way of trying street accident cases by means of model vehicles and a miniature street crossing which are so manipulated as to show exactly how an accident occurred.

Democrat want ads get results.

The Thanksgiving. By Eugene C. Dolton. Work of the harvest ended, Now, as the year grows old. Granaries overflowing, Full as the blns can hold. Peace and plenty surround us— Each has a bounteous share; Thanks to the fertile farmland*. Opulence everywhere. Thanks to the sturdy toiler, Answering duty’s call; Thanks to the gracious Giver, Infinite Lord of all. Brothers, once more united, Brothers from far away, Each of us yet remembers This—our Thanksgiving Dayl (©, 1920, Western Newspaper Union.)

TO FRIENDS OF THE DEMOCRAT

Instruct your attorneys to bring all legal notices in which you are interested and will have the Ing to do, to The Democrat, and thereby save money and do ns a favor that will be duly appreciated. All notices of appointment—of ad* m Inis tra tor, executor or guardian; survey, sale of real estate, ditch or road petitions, notices to non-reab* dence, etc., the clients themselves control, and your attorneys will taka them to the paper you desire, for publication, if you so direct them; while, if you fall to do so, they will give them where it suits their pleasure most and where you may least expect or desire it So, please bear this In mind when you have any of these notices to have published.

Every American sftdler blinded In service is to be presented with a copy of John’s gospels In raised letters.

M ItM 75c PER HOUR / FORD and DODGE PREFERRED I. H. M hi Don F. Hoover, Prop. Phone 572 or 342

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