The Key West Citizen Newspaper, April 9, 1947, Page 4

Chapter 21 ran to the mouth of the BAS he thought worriedly of d wondered if Mr. Hardy ered another bad cough- scudding wind had come sent the dust devils spiral- skyward and D gets tricks the arroyos and ridges, echo- and reechoing against the formations. It came from the m yet flinging ‘he words back in his face when he tried to answer her. He knew she couldn’t hear him and was appre- hensive. “Go back! Go back!” He shout- ed warningly even though he realized his efforts were futile. She continued to walk toward him and he began to run. She was a long way off yet not so far that Jeff couldn’t see that she was bootless. A cold horror _ filled him. As he and Star ridden toward the mire earlier in the day, an ugly rattler basking in the wilting sunshine had oc- cupied the center of the path. Or- dinarily Jeff would have stopped to kill it, but he was impatient to inspect the mine and had reined the gelding off the path and by-passed that spot. As the scent of the reptile drifted to him Star had whinnied in fear. Now Monica was approaching that very section of the path! “Don’t come any further!” he yelled and waved her back. She stopped where she was as though uncertain of his words, then with an eager laughing shout that carried on the wind she . broke into a run. Her scream‘ of terror split the air a moment later. ... Jeff saw her stumble over some- om in the path, heard her cry out in shrill horror and watched her drag herself away from the spot. When he reached her side a moment later she was sobbing wildly. “He struck me, Jeff! He struck me!” ‘The young snake had recoiled himself to strike again, his beady yellov- ma‘ -volent eyes glittering evil in the sunlight. Putting his re Flopsy For. Mopsy : E B d 3 ne S g 1» I sP 1 i Little Girl Is Happy Now; Chases Tears Away, CHICAGO.—(AP). — Policemen Gus Gilzow and Herbert Roth-| stein went: out to get a dog I had been ‘struck by a car. The owner, Gale McMurdo, 6, inidatted| for a chance to nurse the mangled “Mopsy” back. to health, But it} was a hopeless case, The:officers | had to take it away and destroy it. The litle girl wept.. The men didn’t feel very good either. Two nights later they went out to pick up a stray pup. The cops! looked at the dog; looked at each | other. They took the pup to Gale. | “What would you do?” Gilzow says, and without waiting for an answer, he adds: “She calls the } ynew dog ‘Flopsy’.” THE LOW DOWN! fro HICKORY GROVE! Well Folks, at first glance, she! looks like we have had maybe every kind of ‘day” there is from 2-pants suit day, to eat more cranberries day, to a “new day” even to dog-days or doom’s day. But I had been casting around and you know, there is one day left. Speak up, says Henry. It is an “old day,” I says. And I picked up the idea for this essay on “days” from a speech by a banker. Lots of speeches, if they run 15 or 20 or 25 minutes, you will find somebody dozing—but not with this gent. A regular fel- ler he is too—has a big hand in the Boy Scouts. In this speech he went back 100 years—to 1846, and how folks went to work and settled things then. They had iron in their blood in 1846—and didn’t curl up if an obstacle hove in sight. But we still have iron in our blood now, he says, and are just re-discovering same—after being pretty much off the reser- vation and figuring we can keep on getting more and more by do- ing less. Or that we can keep borrowing—and keep prosepring, like where the Government owes the money it borrows to its own people—which are words without substance. This fellow told how the early American pioneers did not get religious and political and economic freedom on a silver platter—but they got them. They went to work. So my idea is to have an “old day”—one like Grandma _ and Grandpa had, with a side of! bacon on the shelf versus a one- half pound. Yours with the low-down, The voice continued to | 42g A Ec ee hands benc.th her arm pits Jeff pulled Monica out of the rattler’s e, then picked her up and caren per to a bare 5 t — o giant saguaros. She clung him like a child, crying uncon- trollably, He examined the two red punc- ture marks above her ankle and took out his poe he moved decisively and swiftly. " “This is going to hurt, Monica, but it’s the only thing to do—” ‘She nodded mutely, staring at him with frightened yet fasci- \nated eyes. He tied his bandanna tight above the wound then, as Monica moaned softly, made two clean incisions over the fang marks. A moment later he was sucking the poison. from the punctures and spitting it into the sand. As she watched the procedure Monica’s fright left her; she managed a smile. ... _ “How exciting! It’s just like the cinema.” Jeff spat viciously. “Only in the movies the hercine doesn’t swell up and turn black in the face.” She shuddered. “You're joking! That won’t happen to me, will it, Jeff?” . “Snake bites are not a joking matter, Monica, as you'll find out in a short while because you're going to be quite sick. I thought you knew better than to walk around the desert with bare legs.” “Oh, I didn’t believe all that me .dram-tic stuff.” “So you’re one of these people ‘|who has to learn everything by personal experience? It looks as ‘though you’ve a rocky life ahead of you.” She smiled slowly. “Then Tm going to live?” “I’m afraid so. Linda has some antivenim—we’ll give you a shot of that. Not many people die of snake bite if they’re reached in time.” “My hero!” Monica’s tone was sarcastic, her eyes narrowed to fine slits. “And to think I got this bite just because of you!” “Don't try to make me respon- sible.” “Well, it was all because of you,” she persisted. HE straightened on one knee, facing her steadily, wiping is Guaranteed PURE Place Your Refrigeration | the art apogee from his fore- © head with his sleeve. j “All right, let’s have it!” he said wearily. i re seemed so cool the other day w an we praeet in: the station wagon, thought we . must have done somet to of- ~ fend you and I wanted to find out « what it was and spolngse | apologies were in order that is.” ~ “They’re not,” Jeff said, “My . temper was just a reflection of some bad news I’d had. I don’t conceal my feelings very well.” ~ Monica smiled. “That's all right - by me—I’m growing just a bit . tired of the suave man-of-the- world type anyway.” ; Jeff refused to comment. He - picked her up and strode rapidly toward the station wagon. Monica had driven in until it was impos- < sible to move any further; Jeff _ had to back almost to the main * road. She watched him with drowsy heavy-lidded eyes. “Jeff, I feel sort of funny.” ; “You'll feel funnier in another * hour,” he said, “but don’t get, in * a lather about it, you’re not going » to die.” hs “I. don’t think I'd mind very . much with you here beside me.” « In spite ~* himself Jeff laughed, * —not even a rattlesnake bite . could vanquisr Monica’s flair for © self-dramatization. But when they |: reached the abode, Linda found - no humor in the situation. She ~ got the syringe of anti-venom and ~ gave Monica a shot with cool 4 practiced hands. : : “Well, why don’t you say it?” s Monica said to her. 3 “Say what?” % “I told you so. That’s what” you’re thinking, isn’t it?” ; “Nurses are taught that rub-/ bing salt into wounds isn’t a very | good idea.” 5 “They probably think sarcasm » leaves a deeper scar.” bs For a long pregnant moment. their glances met and held, then © with a little hopeless gesture Linda turned and left the room; her head was high. Monica’s eyes” followed her. 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