Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, August 27, 1914, Page 8

! i 3 é PAGE EIGHT T NEN PITE By H. M. EGBERT. Well, when we heard that sky-pilot was coming to Raw Gulch we allowed it would be a good thing for the town. Raw Gulch had been a tough place in its time, like most of the mining camps, but that was many years be- fore, and the gold had all been taken from the river beds and the mining was done respectable llke, with stamps and cyanide. There had been a good deal of gambling, but the new state law had put that out of business, and the only signs of evil was Miss Flora Deering setting up the drinks in Bill Hicks' saloon. Flora was all right, and if her hair was golden it was that way naturally. So, as I sald, we thought the arrival of Rev. Mr. Tracey would be a good thing for the town. We'd heard he was a Harvard man, and we looked forward to an intellectual polishing in Raw Gulch. Mrs. Fay Anderson, the secretary of the local Browning society, said she was glad he had been at Harvard, because he would certain- ly be an educated man, and education was booming in Raw Gulch just then. When Rev. Mr. Tracey got down off the stage coach we were very much interested in him. He wore a sweater and high boots, and he was six foot three and broad in the beam accordingly. The group that had col- lected round the coach prepared to greet him cordially. “My name's Tracey, and I'm to be! the new pastor here,” he says, looking straight in front of him. As Jim Ben- son's face happened to be in front of him, it was Jim Benson caught his eye. Jim looked at him for about ten seconds, and then he looked at his hat, and then at his boots, but when he came back to the parson’s face the parson was still looking at him. “Well, sir?” says Mr. Tracey sharply. “Yes, yes, quite well—I mean, thank | you, Mr. Tracey,” stammers Mr. Ben- son. The parson smiled kind of sarcas- tic. “I've heard of the tough ways you folks out West have,” he says, “and if | there's going to be any fighting I'm ready for you now.” Which certainly feazed us. Be- cause, you see, we had come to the coach prepared to give the new pas- \ | i_— My Name's Tracey, and I'm to Be the New Pastor Here.” " tor a cordlal welcome, and we didn't have a thought of fighting in our! heads. “I anticipate a good deal of opposi- tion in Raw Gulch,” continued thn‘ pastor, “and I want to find the bad man and have him fire bullets be- tween my feet. I'm ready for him.' 'l the bad man kindly step for- ward ?" | “There ain't no bad man here, Mr, Tracey,” says I respectfully. “Ha! Very good!" he says, trans- | fixing me with that basilisk eye of | his “Now show me your dens of {niquity.” “I beg your pardon, Mr. Tracey?” asks L. “Your haunts of infamy, your gilded palaces of vice, your faro hells, where you suck the souls of the innocent and cast them down to perdition,” says Mr. Tracey “I guess you mean Bill Hicks' sa- loon,” says I. “First to the right and keep straicht cn till you come to ft, | sir.” Mr. Tracey grunted and led the way up the eet, the whole crowd fol- lowing him till we come to the sa- foon Inside Mlss Flora was just | handing o two beers, when in strides Mr. Tracey He transfixed Miss Flora, who, not being used to that sort « patment, bridled. “Are you the snare of Satan in this unhappy : town?” demands Mr. Tracey “l am the gin-slinger for sure,” re- plies Miss Flora. “What's yours?” Tom Waters, who had been going with Miss Flora for some time, thought it was time to interfere. Tom wasn't quite six feet, and not over strong in build, but he wasn't going to hear his girl called a snare “See here, Mister Sky-pilot,” snysl , been harsh with you,” answers the I'you in attendance, pretending to say | Mrs. Fay next spring. ¢ p— Tom, “you'll keep a civil tongue in! your head. Raw Gulch ain’t Harvard, | and we expects you to behave accord-i ing."” ! “So you're the bad man, are you?” inquired the reverend with interest. | “Here's where you get off.” With| which he lands Tom one that knocks | him senseless to the floor. Miss Flox'aI screams, but there ain't nobdy going | to interfere with a man with a punch | to him like that. The Reverend Tracey walks out of the bar-room. “I'm golng to my quarters at the McDougall hotel,” he says, turning at the door. “There’ll be a service in the chapel at eleven sharp next Sun- day, and If you don't all come I'll know the reason why.” Inside of two weeks the Reverend Mr. Tracey had Raw Gulch terror- ized. He had knocked down flve men and made Miss Flora cry four times. He had sent up church-going 900 per «cent. The only thing he hadn’t done was to get acquainted with Mrs. Fay Anderson’s Browning society. The ladles of the soclety had held a discussion of ways and means. The Reverend Mr. Tracey seemed amicably disposed toward them. He didn't scoff at the Browning society. Sim- ply sald he was so busy cleaning up Raw Gulch that he hadn’t time to at- tend. Mrs. Fay, who had had experi- ence on the stage in her day, hit on a plan. “Leave him to me,” she said. Now, for all his bullying nature, the Reverend Mr. Tracey was a singularly innocent young man. When, therefore, rumors began to circulate about a certain high-toned club that held or- gies, drinking and smoking and gam- bling, at No. 14 Main street, he was all alert instantly. It was Mrs. Fay Anderson who engineered the move- ment. Miss Flora was an accomplice. “Mr. Tracey,” says Miss Flora, in the interval between the fourth and fifth times he made her cry, “it you knew the goings on at No. 14 you'd let a poor girl like myself alone.” “What is it?” demands the reverend, sniffing. “Only gambling and drinking, and smoking—ladies, too,” answers Miss Flora. “They meets every Sunday afternoon.” i “What, after church!"” yells Mr, { Tracey. “Hush! Not so loud! Yes.” “How can I get in?”" inquires the reverend. “Password for the week's pagne,’” answered Miss Flora. “It’s a wicked word,” sighs the rev- erend. “However, I've got to be as wise as a serpent as well as harmless as a dove. Suppose I was to go in and break them up?" “The best thing in Raw Gulch's his- tory,” answers Miss Flora. “You are really a very discriminat- ing young woman, and I'm sorry I've Following the inspect fhe largest or not, be sure to we have a surprise ‘cham- reverend. On the following Sunday afternoon he goes up to the door of He swept her a low bow, saying: “There seems to be a ray of hope left.” “And he must be energetic.” Jack was lounging among the pil- vour devotions! I am going to clean up this haunt of infamy. I am—" “Why, what's the matter, Mr, Tra- Lon cey?" demands Mrs. Fay Anderson, { apilb'\rex(\tlv ‘<urpr1<od lows in the boat. At the spirited “en “’.The n‘]’]{(pr" ql{mkmgj Women, | €rgetic,” he settled himself more com- calling themselves ladies, smoking vile | fortably and pretended to stifle a yawn. tobacco—" ? “Indeed! And brainy?” he asked 4 arde Mr. acey, these ? O, parden me, Mr. Trace) } plkhadntI are cubebs,” answers Mrs. Fay. “For asthma, vou know. Try one! The dry air is very debilitating for the passages of the throat.” She pushed the box toward him, and, sure enough, they were cubebs. That staggered the reverend, but only for a moment. “Champagne!” he roared. “Water, Mr. Tracey,” answered Mrs. Fay sweetly. “It comes in champagne bottles, you know, because they are thicker than others, and the light doesn’t spoil 1t.” She poured out a tumbler full, and, sure enough, it was water, and good water at that. “Cards!" roars Mr. Tracey, and turns the pack over. And on the faces of them was marked Abraham, Mel- chisedek, Noah, Paul, Barnabas, Sap- phira, ete. “The Bible made a pastime,” says Mrs. Fay. “We're thinking of intro- ducing this system into our school, Mr. Tracey. Try once more.” l “The stock-ticker,” mutters the rev- erend feebly. “That?” inquires Mrs. Fay, looking toward the instrument. “Why, that's how we study -“Browning. Look! Here's a quotation from ‘Paracelsus’ and the one that guesses how it ends wins a cubeb. Next?” But the Rev. Mr. Tracey was al- ready on his way homeward. I think he understood what had happened about a couple of hours later, because Raw Gulch has a first-rate sky-pilot now—and he's going to be married to “No, brainy men are often uncom- fortable to live with. Just intelligent and brave and generous, clean-heart | ed, and—" “My dear girl, he has never vet | been born. He's impossible. How- | ever, I'll keep my eyes open and it 1 should happen to see such pertection | I'll just send him along.” | “John Foster, you're the most con: | trary fellow that ever lived.” With this he laid strong hands on | the Marsh Marigold, their boat, and, the hard, slow push ashore began. When it was finished John Foster| did not look quite so fine as when he left the city. He was hot, somewhat winded, and, in spite of his precau. | tlons, both trousers and shirt were | covered with mud. Then he uttered | his relieved “There!" and, looking up | there was a shriek of laughter. “Oh, oh, what a sight you are; it you could see yourself.” Suddenly she reached | for something hitherto concealed; then the little click of a camera, then more laughter. “Oh, I couldn't help | it, it was such a temptation.” | “Are you ready to come ashore?” | Was he laughing at her, or what? “I don't know as I dare. I expect to be killed,” but she gave him her ! hand. She did not jump, howey er, for | he took more than her hand. He took all there was to take and held her | fast. “Please tell me what my punish. ment is to be,” she asked humbly; “T'd like to know now.” He looked deep into her eyes. “It | is to repeat something I am going to 8ay,"” was the answer; “then I will let you go, and not before.” : Did they see the envoys? Hnrdly.i They seemed quite content to remain (Copyright, 19]4, by W. G. Chapman.) in Men’s Tailoring A National Personal Tailoring Servig The men of Lakeland are cordially invited to visit the Lakely headquarters of the English Woolen Mills, in the Futch & Gey Building, two doors east of City Hall. Tomorrow Inspection Dj here tomorrow “to get acquainted” with this great organization, so that youp, mestic Woolens for Fall and Winter ever shown in the State of Florida. Many| these patterns are exclusive and can be obtained nowhere else. This signalizes our entrance in Lakeland. Whether you visit our store tomor WATCH TOMORROW’S PAPER FOR OUR FREE OFF English Woolen Mills Futch & Gentry Building rvice that enables every man his clothes made to or- he highest skilled mer- ailors in the world. SUITS TO MEASURE usual customat the opening of our new stores, you are inyj, and most beautiful exhibition of All-Wool Imported and || come around Saturday, August 29th, our OPENING DAY, forevery man. Nothing like it has ever been known anywhe World’s Largest Tailois LAKELAND, FLA. Two Doors East of Cityl No. 14. Mrs. Fay Anderson herself a-—“———__ opens it. ; ) “Mr. Tracey!" she gasps in horri- :Otoooooooooouo-.ooooooooo P 54 ‘ fied tones. Yot o - : PEPESRDEIDIDODEITBEBUR T SEPRRR B DS e “Champagne,” answers Mr. Tracey, : THE IMPUSS'BLE HE : ::rlthe.;shadt(l-.] m"xuw \J\:lll<)\"5. particu- g KIMBRO not knowing her. “I'm fnvited by a | § of th Y Wien the Chesley. party went upi| % Ufi“ & SKINN[R IRRIGA““N ' friend.” With which he pushes his | ® — o| jae road. Then there was a toflet to | $ WATER | way past her, into a room filled with : : :e imnde‘—an Spology fov ane-tiade YIS RRTE 10 clgarette smoke. The ladies (in| @ By CHARLES POEHLMAN. ¢ r:‘;cge ':t‘l:"l“*‘“'f'lrl! tunnel, at the sac- | & Bl.llt conditions. No better irigation in existence. J. T blonde wigs) was smoking as hard as 880608 0untensstsatcestens han-dkzrc[];ifc;vlns:;lll} ;lm'l!lru stock of | 5 brough, of Lakeland, Floridd has the management of they could go, and Mr. Tracey had | . fbs Dim? Well, In ths fret| 2, somehow, they fous did not hur- |3 of Florlda, Cuba, Bahama Isl nds, Alipines, West Vi ! never smelled such horrid tobacco ines %re ?nus:n .be bleg .ant:l ts:'on;s"‘ taik i :u;d it‘i‘flu“{;‘«l‘]l:il'l)})lt;‘lxll:; hl(l') Carolina, South Carolina, Louisiana, Mississippi and Arkans 2;{:125 0:!:;‘:‘0“\‘\;: (:l;:edn gckl::;:;:n::;: There was marked emphasis of the |fore taking a short cut acioss ““m“]% onellnterested In irrigation can obtain information by wri full of it, and cards—face downward | WOrd “big.” they appeared before two very anxious | % °F the company. They are now prepared to fill all orders —and a sort of stock ticker machine, l.Ilack('ics smile h\;‘aa :srcas:lc. fl"I:ow f“::?gtlf:,kflzfl Olf \rlnl\n;ihad to take to ; Address ) g sy tie , girls do worship the prize fighter ACK porch and his pipe to kee pl|%® . i | “TIC‘_‘.I ,F;;i(‘byu’:mt:‘;k:a; ?:ttl'\ti?flsdldle type! Go on, light or dark?" from dlsgrm-ing hn‘nsvl( as a host; the ‘:’ Klmbrough and Skinner lrrlgflthfl ‘ of the room and surveyed the crowd. “Light, by all means.” Grace's dim: | Other, still too anxious and disappoint. ?: lAKElAND flORlDA The men and women looked kind of | P1é8 now came to the front. Se. 106 m‘.‘ funny side, relieved him- 3o G ? ahbAsabaea “I needn't have asked. Let's see— 5“}; In the following way: 3 it “Miserable creatures!” he began, | P8 strong and light complexioned. ; o might at least have gent mo & “So this is how you spend the Sab- | Handsome, of course?” prrd, eaobe ROy Roould 0] & | bath day! Within a block of the “No,” most emphatically. “Hang.| With you off—nobody knows where? | church, where I have seen many of | SOme men are vain. He must be ugly.” [ How did I know but that you were 4 3 drowned, with the boat gone® Gracie Madden, your dress 1S a sight to be hold!"” Then, remembe ring her duty as hostess, she said in a milder Iul'.:‘ to the other culprit: “Go right the spare room, Jack I'll b some of pa's clothes right away." When the great touri . puffing and spitting bae to town and past the Madden cottage, nobody, | think, but Mrs Madden gave n‘ a thought. She was in the Kitchen giv- ing directions for and |4 R YA A TR pressing of the aor Bombarding Prices on 0 om e witindi 50D Merchandise to be resum BB BB BB BB BB B H BB And Rumors of Wa came | car the spon & 2 o an old servay took upon hersel? the who role of forter. S ; y & I ~ “Please, honey, what ‘er y' keer fer | ¥ A L [ HIS WEP ‘\ Peace? Ain't we got peace a.plente | % 4 A i a-p right out dere on de ? dem chillun dun nuffin but scrap fer | & Was] irt S i l\\lo year and mo'? Look lak ity -4 'S, 9100, $1.25, and $1.50, for . miss put up ¢ Zhty bie fie Ata I X Vaist €1 an « o lwm”]'t mlmnl_\ l!lgb fight dis | 15T, 91.00 and $1.25, for. .. : ) 18 to de close, but | reck- | ¥ ( Ne Destces < on he done catch her now o' suah.” | & T k . Dresses SL.00, SI.25 and 133, for .. She chuckled par at remembrance of an unexpected bank bill tied am-l-:‘n ly in the corner of her handkerchie “Peace, Lawdy, d¢ ¥'s des lak two tur- | & tle doves."—Boston Post I '0tists and Tissues, 15¢ for... ..... t call on Men’s § nd $3.00, for.. IS Men's Work Shive > Work Shirts, 39¢, two for. . . Vs Dr ke Cr 2 ; 1ess Shirts, $1.00, $1.50 and $2.00, for ¢ and $r.00, for., ., .. . traw Hats $1.50, $2 —— 1 Stung Again! } | | | PPy “Johnny, I want you t tle errand for me.” “Oh, mother, must [ really? ache.” i head. “In that case, of course, you needn’t g0; but I thought perhaps you'q ]1bk>a to. You see, I wanted You to go to Mrs. Stic 8 candy shop and— Little ' rightened fully “Oh, I think I can w that!” he said 0 g0 on a lit. t Overalls, =z My legs | His mother patted the boy's Many other good values Will be glad to show ! wonder alk as far ag “Then you will go?”” “Certainly, mother!” “And ) know where Mrs. Stick. ney's shop is? “Well, I have a parcel upstairg which I want you to hand in ;.t the | post office next door. I'm afraiq it ‘is rather a big parcel, but you don't mind carrying it, do you, Johnny T o i offs o oo o oo oo oo B o o e el T .gugug‘ni.rg,.g.&..g,