New Britain Herald Newspaper, November 3, 1922, Page 12

©1022 GEORGE R (Continued From Our Last Issue) CHAPTER II. Quintana,on 3 fox-trot along the rock-trail into Drowned Valley, now thoroughly understood that it was the only sanctuary left him for the mo- ment Igress to the southward was closed; to the eastward, also; and he was too wary to venture toward Ghost | Lake. | No, the only temporary safety lay in the swamps of Drowned Valley. He meant to settle matters with Mike Clinch anyway . He wag not afraid of Clinch; not really afraid of anybody. It had been the dogs that! demoralized Quintana. He'd had no | experience with hunting hounds—did not know what to expect—how to maneuver. If only, he could have seen these beasts that filled the forest| with their hob-goblin outcries—if he{ could have had a good look at the creatures who gave forth that wierd, melancholy volume of sound!— “Bon!"” he said coolly to Iimself, “It was a crisis of nérves which I ex- . perfence, Yes. . . . I should have shot him, that fat Sard. # Yes. . Only those damn dog— And now he shall ‘dle an rot—that fat Sard—all by himself, parbleu!—like on ebig dead thing all alone in the wood. . . .© A puddle of guts full of diamonds! Ah! NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1922, OPENING ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE FRANKLIN SQ. FILLING STATION - OPP. ELIHU BURRITT MONUMENT TOMORROW AND SUNDAY A BOX OF SCHRAFT'S CHOCOLATES TO BE GIVEN AWAY TO EVERY PURCHASER OF FIVE (5) OR MORE GALLONS OF “SOCONY” GASOLINE Open Daily from 6:30 a. m. to 10:30 p. m.. DORAN COMBANY -——mon dieu!—a milllon francs in gems that shine like festering stars in this damn wood till the world end. Ah, bah—nome de dieu de—" ‘Haltet la!" came a sharp voice from the cedar fringe in front. A pause, then recognition; and Henri Picquet walked out on the hard ridge beyond and stood leaning on his rifle and looking sullenly at his leader. Quintana came forward, carelessly, a disagreeable expression in his eyes and on his narrow lips, and continued on past Picquet. The’ latter sloyched after his leader, who had walked overo to the lean-to bofore which a yile of charred logs lay in cold ashes. As Picquet came up Quintana turned on him, with a gesture toward the extinguished fire: “It is cold 'like hell,” he sgid. “Why do you not have some fire?” “Not for me ,non,” growled Pic- quet, and jerked a dirty thumb in the direction of the lean-to. And there Quintana saw a pair of muddy boots protruding from a blan- ket. ' “It is Harry Beck,ives?" he in- quired. Then something about the boots and the blanket silenced him. He kept his eyes on them for a full minute ,then walked into the lean-to. The blanket also covered Harry Beck's features and there was a stain on it where it outlined the prastrate man's features, making a ridge over the bony nose. AT HIM. CLINCH STARED WOODS IN FRONT OF looked After a moment Quintana around at Picquet “So. He is dead. Picquet shrugged: mon capitaine.” “Comment?"” “How shall 1 know? It was the fire perhaps—green wood or wet—it {s no matter now, . . . I said to him. ‘Pay ‘attention; Henri; makes too much smoke.’ To me he reply I shall-go to hell. ., ... Well, there was too much smoke for me. I Yes?” “Since noon, your wood . “Yhe Coffee . - THE recent test which pro the superiority of Putnam Coffee over the best-known and best- selling brands was the culmina- tion of many years® study to find a blend of surpassing quality. IN competition with five fam brands Putmam Coffee was sub- mitted to a large group of cof experts under the supervision of Mr. W. H. Aborn, a recogni: authority on coffee. THE tests were made by serv- ing the different brands in plain cups marked only on the bottom by symbols unknown to participants. THE verdict was avery expert voting for Boardman blend—Putnam. saves 1% unanimous, / \Experts were e oy < Y R was one of those chosen to participate in that quite notable ‘‘blind test’’ of Putnam Coffee which Mr. W. H. Aborn conducted down in the heart of New York City’s coffee district. IN all my years in the coffee business, I never witnessed ved gation, chose ous fee been chosen by the experience. zed s or took part in a more impressive or conclusive investi- When every man around that testing table, Putnam Coffee, the reason for that unanimous decision was perfectly clear to me. THE Putnam blend possessed something which the other brands plainly lacked. IT was evident that the very finest growths of coffee had blenders, that the roasting of the coffee beans had been done with rare skill, due to long There was a wonderful richness in its flavor. Its aroma was exquisite. Its freshness, due in part to the fact that it had been packed in the vac- the the sealed can was amazing. the superlative in coffee blending. In short here at last was 5 JUST try Putnam tomorrow morning. Its fragrance and flavor will give new zest to your breakfast. THE WILLIAM BOARDMAN & SONS COMPANY Coffee Roasters Since 1841 HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT Putnam Coffede the ot) To open, first put ey on other The EDW. RUSSELL, PROP. arise to search for wood more dry, when, crack!—they begin to shdot out there—" He waved a dirty hand itoward the forest. “‘Bon,’ said 1. ‘Clinch, seen your damn smoke!” “‘What shall I care?’ he make re- ply, Henrl Beck, to me. ‘Clinch he shall shoot and be damn to him. cook me my dejeuner all the same.’ “1 make preparationsto that John- bull; he say to me that I.am a frog, and other injuries ,while he lay yet more wood on his sacre fire, “Then crack! crack! crack! and zing-gg!—whee.ee! come the big bul- lets of Clinch and his voyous yonder. “‘Bon,’ I say, ‘me, I make my. ex- cuse to retire.’ “Then Henri Beck he laugh and say, ‘Hop it, frog!’ And that is all he has find time to say, when , crack! spat! Bein droit he has it—tenez, mon capitaine—here, over the left eye! . . Like abeef surprise he go over, crash! thump! And like a beef that dies, the air bellows out from his big lungs—" Picquet looked down at the dead comrade in a sort of weary compas- sion for such stupidity. “—8o he pass, this ross-biff goddam Johnbull, . Me, I roll him in there. . . Je ne sais pas pourquoi. . Then I put out the fire and leave." Quintana let his sneering glance rest on. the dead a moment, and his Ithin Iip curled immemorial contempt he have for the Anglo-Saxon, . Then he divested himself of the lbasket-pnck which he had stolen from the Fry boy. N ‘Alors,” he sald calmly, ~“it has been Mike Clinch who shoot my frien’ Beck. ' Bien.” He threw a cartridge into the breech of his rifie, adjusted his.am- munition belt en bandouliere, care- lessly. Then, in a qulet voice: “My frien’ Picquet, the time has now arrive when it become ver’ .necessary that we go from here away. Donc—I shall now go kill me my frien’ Mike Clinch.” Picquet, unastonished, gave him a heavy, bovine lpok of inquiry. Quintana said softly: ‘“Me, I have enough already of this damn woods. Why shall we starve here when there lies our path?” He pointed north; his arm remained out-stretched for a while, * linch, Picquet. “Also our path, I'ami Henrl . . . And behind us, they hunt us now with dogs." Picquet bared his big white = teeth in fierce surprise. ' “Dogs?" he re- peated with a sort of snarl. “That is how they now hunt us, my frien'—Ilike they hunt the hare in the Cote d'Or. . . Me, I shall now re- connoltre—that way!"” And he looked where he was pointing, inte the north—with smouldering eyes Hhen he turned calmly to Picquete: “An’ you, I'ami?” “At orders, mon capitaine.” “C'est bien. Venez." They walked leisurely forward with rifies shouldered, following the hard ridge out across a vast and flooded land where tie bark of trees glim- mered with wet mosses. After a quarter of a mile the ridge broadened and split into two, one hog-back branching northeast! They, however, continued north. About twenty minutes later Pic- quet, creeping along on Quintana's left, and some sixty yards discovered something moving in the woods beyond ,and fired at it. In- stantly two unseen rifles spoke from the woods ahead. Picquet was jerked clear around, lost his balance and nearly fell. Blood was spurting from his right arm, between elbow and shoulder. He tried to 1ift and level his rifie; his arm collapsed and dangled broken and powerless; his rifle clat- tered to the forest floor. For a moment he stood there in plain view, dumb, deathly white; then he began screaming with fury while the big, soft-nosed bullets came streaming in all around him. His broken arm was hit again. His screaming ceased; he dragged out his big clasp-knife with his left hand and started running toward the shooting. As he ran, his maggled arm flop- ping like a broken wing. Byron Has- tings stepped out from behind a trre and shot him down at close quarters. Then Quintana’s rifie exploded twice very quickly, and the Hastings boy stumbled sideways and fell sprawling He managed to rise to his knees again; he even was trying to stand up when Quintana, taking his time, deliberately began to empty his magazine - into the boy, riddling him limb and body and head Down once more, he still moved his arms. sid Hone reached out from behind a fallen log to grasp the dying lad’s ankle and draw him into ghelter ,but Quintana reloaded swift- Iy and smashed Hone's left hand with the first shot. Then Jim Hastings, kneeling behind a bunch ofjuniper, fired a high- velocity ‘bullet into the sree behind he is there” growled which Quintana stood; but before he could fire again Quintana’s 8hot in reply came ripping through the juni- per and tore a ghastly hole in the calf of his left leg, striking a blow that knocked young Hastings flat and paralyzed as a dead flounder. A mile to the north, blocking the otherexit from Drowned Valley, Mike Clinch, Harvey Cbase, Cornelius Blommers, and Dick Berry stood lis- tening to the shooting. “B'gosh,” blurted out Chase, “it sounds llke they was goin' through, Mike, B'gosh, it does!"” Clinch’s little pale eyes blazed, but he sald in his soft, agreeable voice: ‘Stay right here, boys. Like as not some of 'em will come this way.” The shooting below ceased. Clinch. Clinch’'s nostrils expanded and flattened with every breath, as he stood glaring into the woods. “Havre,” he said presently, ‘“you an’ Corny go down there an’ kinda look around. And you signal if I'm wanted. G'wan, both o'you. Git!" They started running heavily, but their feet made little noise on the moss. Berry came over and stood near Clinch. For ten minutes neither man moved. Clinch stared at the woods in front of him. The distant, | Misses’ —and— the season. and Cloth Combinations. younger man's nervous glance flick- ered like a snake's tongue in every di- rection, and he kept moistining his lips with his tongue. Presently two shots came from the south. A pause; a rattle of shots from hastily emptied gagazines. “G'wan down there, Dick!” Clinch. “You'll be alone, Mike—"" “Au right. You do like I say; git along quick!" Berry walked way. He had turned under his tan. “Gol ding ye!" shouted “take it on a lope or I'll papts off'n ye!" Berry began to run, vifle at a trail. TFor half an hour there was not a sound in the forests of Drowned Val- ley except in the dead timber where unseen woodpeckers hammered fit- fully at the ghosts of ancient trees. said southward a little very white Clinch, kick the carrying his TOLSTOI BAN REMOVED Anathema of Excommunication Against Russian Count Cancelled. Moscow, Nov. 3.—The anathema of excommunication, pronounced more than 20 years ago by the Russian Women’s and Coats Wraps Capes An endless variety to select from showing every new style feature of These Coats are excep- tionally made and the materials that are used include—Brytonia, Nor- mandy, Bolivia, Salt’s Plush, Salt’s Lambtex and dthers of Fur Fabric Orthodox church against Count Leo Tolstol, the most internationally fam- ous of Russlan authors, has been can- celled by the recent all Russian church conclave held at Moscow to reform and simplify the ' Orthodox worship. Count Tolstol = was « thus posthumously restored to good stand- ing in the church. The Anathema was pronounced be- cause Tolstol's works were considered as attacks upon the church. PRODUCES MORE RICE. Production, By Improved Methods, Keeps Pace With Population. Tokio, Nov. 3.—While Japan does not produce sufficient rice for the needs of her people, who, even after an elaborate banquet require a bowl or more of their staple,food, produc- tion has kept pace with the increase of the population. In the early days of the Meiji reign, when the popu- lation was 85,000,000, there was 35,- 000,000 koku of rice produced. This year, with a population of 70,000,000 the crop is estimated at an equal number of koku. 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