Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, February 3, 1922, Page 2

47t ©"~ THE BEMIDJI DAILY PIONRER -~ FR PAY, EVENING, FEBRUARY 3, 1922 {| challenges thiis accepted. He threw Il’llflhfll forward, gasping, and began, :| ‘oft his hat and went to meet the Mthe | to drift down the stream with. the young stranger. | vanquished Ball.- ' 5 Bill Dale squared himself and.put | Babe Littleford was standing fo the up his guard. Adam Ball came on, Water to her knees. When Dale suc- and he was scowling wickedly. | cumbed to utter exhaustlon, she start- Ball rushed, the clear water swirling | €l toward: him, .to save him from in his wake, and let: out with a power- | drowning. .She felt strangely drawn fal right.. It was a blow. to crush an | toward the big, white, clean man who .ordinary men’s chest in; but, to Ball's | had whipped the Goliath she had al- “FiFpride; it failed to land. Dale evaded | Ways dreaded, But she had gone only it cleverly, and at the same time sent | & few yards toward ithe center of the a'swift 161 wppercut to the otjier’si Fiver wheniJohu HiETE R erd Drighier mowes ' “I agree 'at David ‘would iwant us' 'to develop the coal, ef he could know. It's like a light a-breakin’ to me.: But that coal is sacred, to us, Bill Dale, and afore ye go any fu'ther I'll haf to ax ye to.tell me all about yeself. | A city man up here in the wilderness— | it don't look s'picious, Bill, mebbe, but—well, I hopes ye can pardon me | fo' axin’ it. 1 shore got to be keer- ful about Brother David's coal. Addie ! always called me that, an made me feel like a man. Then I put my bag down and took him by beth shoul- ders and -told ‘him. this; ' “‘Look here, Bobby, I'm going to give you some advice, and you take it. You steal Pat and marry her. Steal Pat and marry her if you have to live in a hole in a hillside. 'You're as good as'any of them, and lots better: than most of them. You can work your way to a better salary. You see,’ I told T synopsis. CHAPTER 1—Young Carlyle Wilburton Dale, or “Bill Dale,” as he clects to be known, son of & Wealthy .coal operator, Jobn K. Dalo, ‘arrives at the Haltway Bwitch, in eastern Tennessee, abandou- ing a life of idle ease—and incidentally a Uride, Patricia Clavering, at the altar— determined to make his own way in life. He .meets “Babe” Littleford, typical piountaineer girl. “By" Heck, & charac- ter of the hills, takes him to Jolin More- land’s home. Moreland is chief of his “clan,” which has an old feud with the Littlefords. He tells Dale of the killing of his brother, David Moreland, years ago, owner of rich coal deposits, by a man named Carlyle. Moreland's descrip- tion of “Carlyle’’ causes Dala to-belleve the man was his father. CHAPTER IL—Dale arranges to make M5 home with the Moreland family, for whom he entertains a deep respect. CHAPTER IIl.—Talking, with “Babe" Littleford next day, Dale'is ordered by ‘“Black Adam” Bal to leave “his girl"" alone. Dale replies spiritedly, and they:.fight. Dale_whips the bully, thousl badly ‘used ap. He ar- ranges with John Moreland to David's coal deposits, _.Ben Littleford sends achallengé ‘to Jolin Moreland to eet him with his followers next day, in attle. Moreland agrees, (Continued from last issuc) CHAPTER 11l Goliath' of the Hills. Dale awoke a little after daybreak, arose and dressed himself, and went out. by way of the door beside the huge stone-and-clay chimney. The mountain air was bracing. Dale threw out his chest and started eager- Iy for a walk. The road led past the cabin of ully of the district, | e e jaw, Adam Ball mutte: 0 wicked' words and stendied himself; minutes later there appeared | . Bollrlm_uged frequently now. he_had caught a tartar. mark on Bill Dale’s _“How’s that%ye plnk coward?f he And Dale sent on‘a mighty blow tbat rebounded dully from the giant's chest .and elicited only a harsh Jaugh of contempt. There was little to be gained by striking a man like Adam tBall on the chest; Dale. knew now that he ‘must reach a more vulnerable spot, Then he feinted with his left and drove his right to Ball’'s mouth, bring- ing: blood. Ball roared.in his blind rage and dashed toward his antagonist, resolyed to get a clinch. But Dale “{ eluded ‘the terrible arms, although in ‘| 'so dolng he received a blow on the temple that made him dizzy for a few seconds. ., PS “While Ball .was again engaged in trying to galn the advantage of a clinch, Granny Heck made her appear- ance on the Moreland bank. She promptly launched her sympathies in a manner that pleased both her gaping “I'son and the watchful and silent John /{ ‘Moreland. s “Hit bim In the stummick, Mr. Bill!” ghe cried over.and over, “Hit him whar he lives at!” The combat grew hotter and hotter. e faces On A moment, ! : ;he led out again, and he missed | :ogdin; bt he followed it with a plow ,I | Heck dragged“Balt'to-the Littleford nk and left' him . lying there, face wnward, on the sam,” Moreland halg carried, halt dragged|Bill- Dale.to ‘the ut. She pald absolutely no attention | the .worsted' bully. ':She: stood fn~ i|Jently watching-the lmp form of Dhle. |1, “Is he dead, Jotm: Moreland?” ‘she called tremulously. Al “No, Babe,” Moreland answered, his voice not unkind; “be ain’t anyways nigh dead.” / He and Sam Heck' took up Dale’s dripping figure and bore it away. Babe Liftleford ran to higher ground, hid herself behind a clump of sussafras and watehed them. Granny Heck. followed with Dale's coat and hat.. Sue' chattered all the way across the mesdow— “Now what did ¥ tell ye, John and i Sam? What did E-tell ye? La, la! | Wasn't it a master fight, like I sald— now wasn’t, it?" “Sowetimes ye ' make me a little tired, granny-wosman,” Moreland re- monstrated gently. “The’ ain’t nothin® {In forchune-tellin’. You've jest been | Jedge the future: by the past. And | you're a tol'able good guesser, toy, I | reckon.” 5 3 Granny Heck flared up quickiy: | “Ain’t- nothin’ fn' _forchune-tellin'! | Now don’t go and’ fool yeself, John Moreland. Yeou listen to me about h half minute, John. I seed more in the cup ’an I told Mr. Bill. I seed blocd und death. the Morelands and' the Littlefords!” “That's easy to guess at” John i Moreland - replied - “You know, o'I course, 'at Black Adam will do all he ; € Mgreland: and Sam eck renichél the uikconsclous tiguress] other ‘bank. Babe Littleford waded | ,and the boys'll go out and leave jeS | him, ‘we get about what we deserve 8’ two 1n.hereStihid whehl Fe're a-talk- | in this world, Most of us don't deserve in’ to me it's the samé as talkin’ to a,much,’ '~ K 3 tombstone’ so -fer as .tellin’:is! con-| “I ‘asked him if mother was badly sarned. Addie,: honey; Luke, you andy cut np. He said she was; that she had Cale—"- '/ ' ; fainted. - Dad. . swore aloud, he said, Mrs. ‘Moreland ‘aind her ‘sons arose’|' there in church. I told Bobby good-by ‘andleft the room,’ ¢losing the door bé-| and got aboard the train without say- hind them. 'Bill Dale paced the floor, | ing anything. about where I was go: - arms folded, brows drawn, Finally he | Ing—but I didn’t know myself where ! here fo’ so long 'at you know how to |, I seed ‘a_blg fight atwixt | | can to briug trouble to us on account ! {0 Bill Dale a-stayin’ with us. And| i'you know it ain’t never onpossible to: | hatch up war atween us and the Lit- | | tlefords. Jest run .on ahead, Granny | { Heck, and tell my wife to hunt v. | ''some kind o' good liniment fo' Bill's { brulses. - Tell her she needn’t to waste | \ time a-lookin’ up any bandages. This | Grandpap Moreland. When Dale w: on the Moreland side of the river the e e singer of the rakish old song; he had| directly In front of the log house, he | A | saw the aged mountaineer standing on | ® minnow pail in one hand and a White n rickety .sawhorse beslde the stone | hickory rod In the other, | step ‘gt the' narrow porch; Grandpap “Hl, thar, Bill, old boy!” he yel‘led.1 Morcland was helping a gray cat down | < HI, thar, Babe! Either of ye'uns ketched anything?” | from the roof. Ben Littleford’s daughter held up a _“Morpin'! I was jest a-takin' that H thar ‘cusafifed old pest down offen the | fish proudly. Heck slapped his thigh man here Is like me: he wouldn’t wear | bandages, ‘cause they look bad.” When Dale ¢ame back to a state of | | conseiousness;~he was. lying -under | covers in the carved black walnut bed. | | Beside him ‘stood John Moreland, who | | held In one hand a bewl' containing a { hot' herb. brew_that his wife had pre- Toof. I've took him down every morn- [ With his elouch hat. | ;nnred. Granny, Heck, her son By, and n’.as reglar as. I make fires, o’ three “Good fo' you!” he exclaimed.’ “But | Mrs. Moreland;stood not far away. | year or more. Ef it wasn't bad luck | they’ min't-abitin’jest right. The | . “This.hereWibe gaod fo’:ye, I think.” 1o kill a"cat, I shoot him, mebbe.” | moon’s. wrong, and the. signs s wrong, {'snid Morela npddlng toward - the | bowl In s he pnd.’ He_ went over and i put an ‘arm .around Dale’s shoulders | and helped him, to:sit -up. Dile drank the stuff with difficulty. “Much obliged,” he muttered thickly. “I—let's see, did" I whip—how did it end? He didn’t lick: me, did he—that fellow Ball?" “He shore dldn’t,” smiled Moreland. “Not by a big sight. He-fell out fust. His own pap won’t hardly knotv him, Bil” } - Ed . - . . . News travels rapidly fn the big hills. The Morelands began to gather at the home of their chief to see the man who had whipped Black Adam Bali; very Moreland able to walk came to see Bill Dale, For three hours he was fo0' fishin"" At that fnstant John Moreland ap- peared at Heek's side, He seemed very gerlous ‘about ' something. “Bill ‘Dale,” he called, *“come over here.” Wondering, Dale put down his rod and turned to obey. Two minutes later. he stood before John Moreland. “I jest wanted to tell ye,” and the mountaineer almost closed one alert grey eye, ‘“’at ye're purty shore to git into trouble over thar.” “I'm an able-bodied man,” Dale re- turned smilingly. “You shore are,” frowned Moreland, “but mebbe you nin't used to durned hard fightin’.” Not used to hand fighting! Dale's smile broadened. Once he had whippe: | a heavywelght pugilist; and he had fought as a matter of principle, and not for money or prestige. . After, breakfasting with John More- ; land, Bill Dale borrowed fishing-tackle | from his host, and set out alone for | the' little river. B There were many shoals and rapids, and he went almost half'a mile before he found a place to his liking. : It was 4 bedutiful spot. Above, the water poured between two great houlders with a gentle roar; below, it shallowed ot over round stones. Overhead towered tall white sycamores. /Not until he had put a minnow on the. hook and cast it out did he see that he was not alone at the pool. On the other side, less than sixty feet away, Babe Littleford sat on a stone the slze of a small barrel; she held 4 cane fishing-rod In her hands, and her bare feet were in the water to her ankles. She was looking squarely to- ward Dale, and there was something akin to reproachful anger fn her long The Combat Grew Hotter and Hotter. of both were bleeding, and each spat red now and then. Their clothing had | been torn away to the belt, and thelr magnificent wet bodies glowed in the morning sunlight. Dale had seriously damaged his soft hands; they felt as | though they were filled with slivers of s . steel. But still he fought on doggedly, | llonized. but:he.dldn’t. enjoy-it; the determinedly, desperately, minute aft- water had left many pains in his er minute. Y e i e ichest. and his head ached dully, and Those on the two banks watched it | his hands still felt as though.the bones | were shattered fn them. brown eyes. Moreland suddenly jerked one thumb | g1} with suppressed excitement. Babe “Good morning 1" called Dale, lifting toward the other side of the stream.| yittleford stood in the edge of the |. Came a thuondershower that nrlerlg bis hat. Dale looked and saw, standing beside | water, with her hands clasped below | hoon, and the mountain evening: fell with a chill. A fire ‘was made in the| wide stone fireplace 'In the guest's |.room, and when supper was over the family gathered there with Dale, who refused to be kept in bed. After a few minutes of silently watching grotesque shadows flit across the log walls;:Dale said to John More- land: AF A “If your brother David could know, don't, you think he’d:want you to get the value out of the coal?” John Moreland bent forward to.‘reni Dhis chin in his hands. His sober gres eyes stared thoughtfully toward the fire. - “I ain't never looked at it that- away,” he said. i “That's the right way to look at It,” | declared Dale. “But you shouidn't! sell the property as it 1s.” The mountaineer turned an fnqulr- ing face toward his guest. “How fin thunder could 1 handle it ef 1 didn't?” “Why not {let me develop It for| Babe Littleford, a quite formidable man. He had the height and breadth, almost, of a Goliath. He was black- ! eyed and black-halred, and his thick, short beard was curled like the hair between a bull's horns. In one hand he carried a repeating rifle as lightly as though it were a mere straw. One of his great arms suddenly straightened toward Dale, and a volce ! as gruft as the growl of a bear said hotly: “What was you a-doin’ here a-talkin' to my gyurl?” ber throat, her face was pale. John | Moreland, who had witnessed many other great fights, himself a fighting man,. had never before beheld such a contest-of strength and endurance®as | this: Bill Dale had won John More- land’s Lieart for all time to come. | But the blows of the fighters were | growlng weaker now. The sound of | their labored breathing rose distinctly over the gentle roar of the sparkling | waters above. it Then the watchers saw Adam Ball lunge at his man, saw Dale stumble out of ‘sheer weakness, saw Ball's ! mighty blood-streaked arms close There was no reply. There was not even a change .of countenance, Again Dale called his friendly greeting, and | 4 sgain there was no.reply. It plqued | £ Dale. ' A few yards down:the stream the white body of a sycamore lay from one bank ‘to the other; it ‘bad been blown there by.a recent storm. Dale wound his line, went down and’crossed by means of the prostrate tree. . She didn’t even look around when he walked up to her and spoke again. ‘It struck him as belng decidedly odd. | Babe Littleford looked angry. Dale ch‘ri‘l(tyu’:;:' he“t:ldr :‘0'-' ';’;;’“"'Yu flushed, then went pale. a of stenclls. You | « 1t Iking W musto't talk so much, y'know.” | wh:mh:v;le:s:‘?bh: Rt A ihe. wewntital whits: body. and Dale couldn’t see -her eyes. : ves. ing Dale slowly backward and down- “Do_yoi like viotets, Miss Litt | lanky Heck in a very. low tone. 38 o are: - | s, | Gollath of the hills stared unbellev |, ward -more by reason of welght than | of strength; another moment, and Ball | i f";d"'mh' ;Ifikifl fle’“-m " | ingly. Dale said In’ an undertone to In the black, mica-starred soll at.| john Moreland: “Is it that Ball fel- . i hls feet grew & carpet of the finest | | :w l;“ o ;\::.?}:ugut S) zln'k the brown head um- iolets he had ever seen. Babe let.the | «Yes,” answered the hillman; “it's| “°p % FUEAGL _Etp of her. cane rod fall into the water | Bjack Adam.Ball” ¥ tord guve g, smothered 1 looked arund. S| Phan dropjed ' N e o tno| ¥ Tohn Moreland stepped toward | WY WOT ISE TR e ety T 03 sounds funny to hear a map talk | violets, slowly clenched his huge.and the water and shoufed hoarsely: i bl o S A ] ©' sech little things as vi'lets,” ;she de- | “Dont'se drowned him Adam! Efj WORt charge.you anything gbove ex- halry hands,.and thrust ‘his bearded | _ . g o H s, and I'iwon't be extiavagant.”| glared, “Most o' men dou't think o' | jaw out aggressively. e do, ye'll apswer to me!” | | penses, an g o { vha' T8 5o 2 ' ~Dale had himself f “It'd take consid’able money tostart| N ' }ffl“‘“ but woffln‘, f\u_ntwl_{:_, flzhtm; r:l‘l“d;“ F];&T:'«hm 3o plok cow- | . He égp dfl\mi?\‘s:rd :u;‘;;:;_ things n.mov_ui;t Have you got itz .and eptin’»I'm_ a little. mad at you! a e chaljenger. ;..o . asked ‘Morelan| 3 ikepad | *TI¢ you hava-any business wnh me, | ITUTCTSInG b “l‘%";‘”gi‘fi,‘:‘"‘t“”““‘f . come over here and. transact 1" Dule| tnon bo o orent effort. e Yoned ‘fn retorted. ~*T Wou't Fun w i the giant and overthrew him, and “That's Moreland terrytory,” Ball b A went home yeste'dag—and -1 think | J run might' nigh the whole six mile— | and fixed up-dinner-fo'~you,-'cause 1| “No, but I can get it. A@t A body would fi_u willing to lend: monéy;| ‘on so good: & thing as this, y'know.” sonderstood yon was a-comin® to our | theuse—and you went to them low- | sdown Morelands?” objected. “But I'll meet ye half way, and I dare ye to take me up, ye lace: o | staggered free! Ball's hairy face'came to the surface t.-.Dalo.-fought back-the pain of For alittlewhile' Moreland sat the: and - looked sqharely at Dale, %ho 1 # turned 'his guze without a-sisn of T beg pardon,”, 1l snid contritely ‘rknmeflm“?t‘b daler dn’t know you were especially ex- .. Half-way would ‘the'midale of . | river, and no place for a fight, surely. pecting me. I had business;” he added;, -But Dale, was_ nettled. His temper, “with John Moreland.” i ! J0 .. | the temper that.he” hid never _There came to his ears from SOme-| gzplg to keep Wholly. under control, was | {where down the river the chorus of _pising fast. He threw off his coat and & rakish old hill song, and the volce pne gandsrolled. tiig sléeves of his soft r’n that of the lanky moonshiuer, By | ~elbows. ‘Heck— th®}fvater i his langs ‘and the pain flinching. The hillman was_ trylng to ? sharp and jagged slivers of steel’| Gnd a motive, in~his hands, an@ struck madly, half “How comes it ‘at you, who ain’t bilndly, at the hateful face. He kept | knowed' us but two days” he de- it down, but 1t wouldn't go under the =Mmanded, “can be so much intrested water completely. in us?” ‘Adam Ball began to drift n< though | | The guestion den‘:)ll:ded l" ;tdnl‘s:b; n SR | lifeless down the stream. 'forward answer. -Dale realiz al shirt. to. bis .me."“" “Then' he '“—“ded| roll})wed, still fighting \\'uuklyl.mclnol::‘nl; .there was but one way in which he fnto _the - pool. "*The. ‘slewly -moving | 'y yrenthed. Put soon he ccased could give a satisfactory explanation, water, wag,up.to his waist at the half | ¢ grige, He wuiv, instead of the beast- ' (and that that was by telling the truth— ;"“:i pfi"’c‘:‘e’d ‘:;:&fi" bottom was of jyy'gace, (ushes as of distant summer | but not the whole truth, as he pre 7 lightniug, and red blotches against a | Surmised it, for.then his efforts would .The . Gollath _atared “nb'""l"l"ithlck blackness. Tho blotehos faded, | 50 for naught: He was not accustomed to baving his|ang g1 _hecame dark to him; he ! Morelind. was sreaking agaln, and i | s . “Oh, when I dle, don't-a bury me deep, Put no’ tombstons at my head and feet, . ‘Put a-bear's jawbone in my right hand * On my way to the Prom-ised La-a-and, . .OblisQn. my Way to the Promised JFalted ‘before the Moreland chief. “There’s nothing I'm ashamed of, 1 guess,” he said. . “T don't like to tell it simply because I don’t like to tell it. But—I'] do it.” 1le sat down In his sheepskin-lined rocker, lay back and closed his eyes as though to visualize the story, to live it over. “Maybe it's not very much in my favor, John Moreland,” he began. “I never could get along with-my parents, or with the set I was born into. Some- how, I was different. Father .and mother warited me to be a dandy; they even wanted me to let a scrvant dress me. The climax came when they tried to marry me to a young woman who didn’t want me any more than I want- ed her.” He opened his eyes, looked straight at Moreland, and went on: “You see, they wanted to marry us in ‘order to' unite old Clavering's for- i | | | “You See, They Wanted to Marry U-“ in Order to Unite Old Clavering’s Fortune and My Dad’s.” tune and my dad’s; Patricia, like me, was an only child. It'had been all cut and dried for us, for years. They put it | up to we like this: they saidIowed itto| thera, that it was my duty; that I had | always been a severe trial ‘to them; that my savagery had put gray into my mother’s hair, and a lot of things of that kind. I fell for it at last; it was sort of a matter of self-defense. With Patricla) it was a case of—well, a ¢ase of simple obedience. Pat is a, good girl. . . ." A minute of silence; then: “P'll hurry along with it, John More- land. 1 had one fine friend.back there. | It was Robert McLaurin, a - reporter on the city's leading newspaper. My | parents didn't take to him because he | was a worker, and not a.fop. ‘Mother | wunted Pat’s cousin, ‘poor dearHar- | ry’ Clavering, for my best man. ‘Poor dear Harry' and I'had-a-fight, once upon’ a time, and I—I had whipped him; and I didn't like him. 1 chose Bobby McLaurin for my best man, and I wouldn't give, him up. “It was only when: we ‘met before ¢ | the chancel in 2 big crowded church pere happened, Addie: that I Tully realized the, tragedy of it | for Pat. | saw that her face was a clean white, and ‘that her eyes beld the shadow of something: that was very terrible. I turned my bead and saw the same shadow in’the eyes of my greatest friend, Bobby McLaurin. 1 knew then. Bobby and Patricia loved cach ‘other, John Moreland! Bobby didu’t have any money to speak of, and that had held them apart. “It had been the finest thing in the | world, McLaurin’s acting as best man | for me. There was friendship for you! 1 ‘couldn't’ takefrom them' tbeir one | change o(A pupmness. vis'e | . »1 couldn't, see anything else to do, | s6 I rah. T wWent home, pulled off my | redgips.. rig..and .put. on the. clothes ngffow. ‘PthI" sothe , thingsi| nd burried. gdown *F found that T g S font - statton. brought me here. 1 bough! Atlanta, but' I never meant to use it} 1 meant to take the other train and pay a cash fare. In doing that, 1 hoped to lose myself from them. 1 wsnted to go unhindered to some i country where I wouldn't be consid- ered a—a savage, y'’know. “I went out to the train-shed, and; 1 bado’t been there a minute when Bobby McLaurin cage. I asked him how he knew wherd to find me. He said: “I_thought you wouldn't care to| THE PIONEER WANT AD: stay here. after doing what you did, and I wanted to say good-by. Rill.” He | “Tomorrow, John -Moreland,’ he says; | | Dale. | . a-makin’ this land yore land and these ' | or ‘are ye one o' these fellers who |1 was going, at the time. % “Now you've heard it.. Every word was truth. I yowll trust me with the ! coal, I'll make this land my land, your people my people. Tl suffer with you when you suffer, and be happy with { you when you’re happy; and when you ! fight, I'll fight with you.” The Xoreland chief arose, and Bill Dale arose. The hillman put out his | hand, and Dale gripped {t. { "I believe in' ye, BiL” sald John Moreland. = “Fo’ another thing, I've seed ye fight. You can work the coal.” He looked toward the closed inner door and called, “Oh, Addie; you and the boys can come back now.” Out of the night a face appeared at one of the small windows. It way a | feminine face and handsome rather | than pretty. “Two slender,- sunburned | hands gripped the window-ledge nerv- ously. The face pressed closer to the | glass, then disappeared. Soon after- ward the' outer” door of ‘the guest's room opened, ‘and Ben Littleford’s daughter entered. Her skirts - were dripping wet. . ¢ Mrs. Moreland arose and went to- ward the young woman. / She knew that only something of great Impor- tance could bring a Littleford into her home in. this fashion. “What’s the matter, Babe?” Babe Littleford gave no attention | to Mrs, Moreland: She .went on to Bill Dale, walking softly on bare feet. | “Black Adam is a-goln” to kill you { tonight, Bill Dale.” “That s0?" Dale’s smile was rather ' grim. “How did you find that out, | Miss Littleford?” 8 | “I found it out, all right. As he | went off from the river this mornin’, I made fun of him; and he patted the stock of-his rifle and sald he'd git you through a window! He was at our house this -evenin’ to help fix pap’s way, a-goin’ by the blowed-down' syca- more,. I waded the river at Blue Cat shoals to beat him here. I thought you might want to know about it, so's ye could mebbe save other folks the trou- ble o' makin’ a funeral fo'. ye.” She 'backed toward the -door, her eyes-never leaving Dale's face. Another second, -and she was gone. They were all on their feet now. John Moreland grippéd Dale’s arm. “Qver thar aside o' the chimbley, Bill!” he ordered, his native drawl for the moment absent. “Out, Addie, honeéy! Luke, bring my rifle and hat— jump keen! Cale,’ bring water and drownd this here fire!” - It was done. Moreland took his hat and the repeater and went alone into the night. " When some - fifteen minutes had passed, there came to Dale’s .ears the sound of shooting. ' There, were ten shots in such rapld succession that they made almost a continuous roar. Then came echoes_and reverberations, and then silence. Soon John Moreland let himself into the dark room. His wife's voice was low and filled with anxiety: “What happened, John?” A dull thud came through the dark- ness as her husband’s rifle-butt struck the’ floor. . “This is what happened, Addie: As I passed the cawner ¢ the house, I got down that thar old oxwhip to take along. I went acrost the road and into the meadow, and thar I seen Adam Ball a-comin’. - I hid, and when Adam was about to pass me, I jumped up and ' jerked his_rifle, from him and busted it ag'in a rock. Then t lights in and thrashes him with the oxwhip ontel he broke and run. And ’en.this “I' was a-watchin’ to see ef Adam had reely went off, when I seed a mau a-comin’ toward me fast. I thought it was Ball, o’ course. So I up and tells him to show me how fast he can run and commences a-shootin’ over his head to skeer him. Bat it didn’t happen to:be Adam Ball—it was Ben Littleford! He was a-follerin’ Babe to see what she was up to, o’ course.” “How do:ye know it. was Ben, pap?” Caleb asked. “How do I know?” growled John Moreland. *“When I got through a- ——— [(ERE R RS 550 ERS R ® KELLIHER id B Rk % The Latterell: Merdantile |Co. has put on a sale this week that'is at- tracting general attention. ' Consid- ering the financial situation at Kelli- her, the sale is unusually’ successful. The Woman’s Study.club gave a cap social last Saturday night. A large crowd was on hand to enjoy the evening, which was spent in playing cards and dancing. The. cap sale \netted the club. about $30, Mr. and Mrs, Henry' Lattercll vis: ited with Pete Gordon and his moth- er last Sunday. The Haley family were. also_visiiors at the same time. Mrs. Gordon has not been very weil for @ few weeks, but she is now feeling 'much better. On Monday night the city of Kel- liher was given a demonstration of “The Light- That Failed.” A steam- pipe burst .and it was necessary to. zet repairs from Blackduck. About the -only ones who enjoyed the, eve- ning, were the small boys who took possession of the streets giving' them- selves a military driil, and other noisy demonstrations of the joy of living. The Kelliher orchestra will give a concert and dance on Saturday night, Spectators will be charged 25 cents to. attend this dance. Our orchestra deserves all the support that can be given, and this departure from es- cablished custom is highly approved by all. The school medal contest came off on Friday as scheduled with good au- Jiences at both the day and the night meetings. The primary medal was won by Stanley Matteson. The in- cermediate speakers presented a fine program, but the judges awarded the medal to Wanda = Hartmany which met. with the general approval of all present.:. The high school contest was_ given at :night, The judges were William: - Sgrief, B. M. Arm- strong, Rev. Vinje, Mrs. Whiting and Mrs. Pierson. . It was a hard contest i ‘the_ declamations were all good. he judges awarded the medal to Ethel Liljegren, as having the highest number of points that can be considered in such a contest. The decision gave general satisfaction, and Rev. Vinje’s address in present- ing the medal was fuil of thought for those who want to “play the game” in athletics-and contests of this kind. The high school Literary soelety has elected officers for the second semester and arranged a scries of ‘programs. The new president, Elmer Vo.gaard, hopes to make the society a live bedy for the remainder of the year. Cordwood, cedar and poles are be- ing hauled in considerable quant- ties. - Pulpwood is also being pu chased now, but at a low price ¢ pared with last year. 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King's Pills WEBSTERS NEW IXTERNATIONAL DICTICNARIES are in use by busi- ess men, engineers, bankers, judges, architects, physicians, shootin’, he hollers at'me and says: ‘we'll have a little Gettysburg-o’ our own!, And I might mind-ye, Cale, K3 he:keeps his word:the same as ¥ do,” | “And . Littleford meant a—" began “That thell be a big fight. tomor- ' row,” sald Moreland. “Bill Dale, in’ people yore péople, I'm a-feard ye're a-goin’ to git more'n ye expected, meb- be more'd ye can handle. Do ve want torback out of it and let the coal go, chaws what they bites off ef it's a hoss's head?” “I'll stick.” Dale's voice came firm- 1y in the darkness. *I'll stick.” —_— (Continued in Next Issue) BRING RESULTS farmers; tcachers, librarians, cler- gymen, by successful men and womer: t#:c world over. Are You Equipped to Win? ‘The Ncw International provides the means to success. Itisanalle knowing teacher, a universal ques- efficiency and ad- icement why not make daily useof this vast fund of inform= o vocabulary 300 Geographical Subjects, 13 Regular and India-Paper Editions, Welteforepec- EXANEXEXUXAXAXAX X EARX EXRNAN S KRR XA XK MY B REX YRR B i g 3 xa wxweaxareRx EX |