Obliging ller
?'Last nif.ht Genrjjo annoyed me
ami ! toldj him I ni-vt-r wanted to
see his (nct> again."
"What <! :?1 he say to that?"
?'Nothing; ! r j't t turned out the
light."
Open fur Bids
limittic n n unitxifilly /irttry ?t op of
hmr /in uii*!' hr Sail hi >'ii ?n a rftfi/ry
tiwf uml hutln'l huihrrttl tit vi-t <i
i ut. u mutt it ml imninliiitrly to his
bar hi' r u hm hr rt'liirnni tit lout i.
"Ilnirt lit?" ankril thf Imrhrr.
**.V?f mi til tlir nmn. **/ /ii5f
</f ??/?;?. ?/ in /i? mi f stinmtr."
SAW IT COM IMS
.Sis ? Did you tell Mr. Smythc I
would be engaged for a half hour?
Tommy ? No I (old him you'd be
engaged in a half hour.
Old Model
Father (to four-year-old) ? Why,
f/hat are you crying for, son?
Junior ? Well, you said you and
tnommie was going to get a new
baby, and I's 'fraid you will trade
me in on it.
Fut Fear in llini
"Have you caught the burglar
yet?"
"No." replied the village consta
ble, confidentially, "but I've got
him so scared that he doesn't dare
show himself when I'm about."
BEAT
HEAT
Dust with cooling Mexican
I leat Powder. Dust in shoes.
Relieves and eases chafe, and
sunburn. Creat for heat rash.
Get Mexican Heat Powder.
Poetry a Demi-God
The basis of poetry is language,
which is material only on one side.
It is a demi-god.? Emerson.
No Need of Whip
Flattery is the bridle and sad
dle with which you may drive the
vain man.
Dealing With Faults
Bad men excuse their faults;
good men will leave them.
SPECIAL
BARGAINS
TATHEN you see the specials of
" " our merchants announced
in the columns of this paper
you can depend on them. They
mean bargains for you.
?They are offered by merchants
who are not afraid to announce
their prices or the quality
of the merchandise they offer.
THE STORY SO FAR
Sidney Lander, mining engineer. Is en
faced to Barbara Trumbull, but apparently
has failen lit love with Carol C-jburn. Mata
nuska school teacher. Salarla Dry son. one
of her pupils, a bit: out-door girl, is also in
love with him. Carol's father died in Alas
ka with an unproven claim which Trumbull
is contcstinR. Lander quits his employ, be
comes lield manager for the Matanuska
Valley piojcct. Sock-Eye SChlupp. an om
sourdough, calls on Carol to tell her she
ought to be in Chakituna to light fur her
father's claim. He himself Is moving on
away from the new Matanuska; it has be
come too "civilized."
The old "bush rat" has nothing but con
tempt for the new project. Carol asks what
he plans.
INSTAU. \lh:\T AT
"I can break trail for the back
hills where a he-man's still got
breathin'-room," was his solemn
noted reply. "1 can mush on to a val
ley that ain't overrun with wcak
lin's and womenfolks."
"Thanks," 1 said.
"I ain't got nothin' against you.
girlie," he said. "I've been strong
for you from the first crack out o'
the box. I savvied, from that snowy
day 1 spotted you on the trail, you
was good leather. And later on I
savvied you was mixed up with a
bunch o' snakes here. That's why
I kind o1 hate t' mush on and ieave
you sittin' out on a limb."
"I've always managed to take
care of myself," I assured him.
"That's what you think," said
Sock-Eye. "But it's time some plain
spoken hombre put a bee or two in
your bonnet. For I savvy a heap
more'n you imagine, girlie. You
think Big John Trumbull' 11 give you
a square deal on your claim trial.
But he won't. He ain't built that
way. And there's a glib-talkin' ta
rantula right over in that transient
camp who's figgerin' on bustin' you
up in this colony, when the chance
comes around. And he's got Trum
bull behind him."
"Is that Eric the Red?" I de
manded, my thoughts suddenly back
to more imminent things.
"That's the bird," acknowledged
Sock-Eye as a leathery old claw
stroked his six-gun holster. "And
in the good old days when us sour
doughs cleaned up a camp as she
ought to be cleaned up that wind
jammer'd have swung from a tam
arack bough afore he'd passed out
his second mess o' pizen-talk. I
don't like what he's sayin" about
you and Sid Lander. I don't like
anything he says."
"What's he got against Lander?"
I asked.
"One item worth mentionin',"
Sock-Eye said with his not unkindly
smile, "is the fact that Lander's
ridin' range for you."
"Why should he ride range, as
you put it, for me?"
"Why, that long-legged giloot's so
crazy about you, girlie, he can't see
straight."
I couM feel the color come up
into my face.
Sock-Eye's gaze wavered away I
and regarded the design I'd em
broidered on a gunny sack for a
floor mat.
"I ain't nosin' into that tie-up with
the Trumbull dame. That's some
thing 'twixt him and his Creator.
But there's that girl o' Sam Bry
son's. S'lary ain't what you'd meb
be call civilized."
"She has her good points."
"Mebbe she has. But when a
maverick in petticoats like that gits
an idee in her head, when she's set
on somethin' she ain't no special
right to, she's a-goin' after it like a
wildcat after a rabbit."
I began to discern the threatening
bush about which my old friend was
so artfully beating.
"Lander seems able to take care
of himself," I ventured.
"Mebbe he is," retorted Sock-Eye.
"And mebbe he ain't. But book
learnin' and shadow-boxin' with the
Ten Commandments ain't goin' t'
help you much when you're compet
in' against a she-wolf."
"I haven't," I ventured, "seen
signs of any conflict."
"You wouldn't," acceded Sock
Eye. "But as I told you once afore,
gold's where you find it. Ar.d so is
a hombro's consolation for livin'
alone. But it's mebbe worth re
mcmberin' that both the man and
the metal is usually corraled by the
forager who's first t' hightail it in t'
where the strike is."
I sat, deep in thought, after he
had gone. I picked up two letters
which had to go to the post office at
Palmer and at the same time gave
me a ponderable excuse for invad
ing that forbidden territory.
As I approached the Commissary
I realized that crowd was doing
more than loiter. A few of the men
had pitchforks in their hands; a few
had pick handles and axes. Still
others, I noticed, carried heavy
clubs of spruce wood. And a broken
cheer went up from them as Eric
the Red pushed through their ranks
and mounted the porch end.
"Are we cattle," he demanded,
"or are we freeborn Americans? In
stead of coming to a colony of homes
you were brought like driven sheep
to a hobo city of lousy tents. You
were fed on tainted beef and big
promises. Your women and chil
dren waded through mud and you
were told to grub out spruce roots
or go without a nop. And when
your children fell sick they were
taken away from the homes where
they belonged and carried oli to a
jerry-built pesthouse and kept pris
oners there while a couple of over
fed she-nurses sat around smoking
cigarettes and playing checkers with
an imported sawbones who lined up
your little ones and vaccinated them
whether they needed it or not. And
now it's about time ? "
That was as much as I heard. For
a wave of resentment went through
my body and i ung a little bell some
where at the back of my brain. I
found myself clambering up on the
porch beside the momentarily si
lenced Ericson.
"Wait a minute," I heard my own
voice shouting above the jeers and
the derisive laughter my over-abrupt
eruption gave birth to. "I want to
tell you the truth about this trouble
make) and what he's doing to this
colony. For if you're iools enough
to let him poison your minds with
his cheap lies and his half-baked
Red ideas you don't deserve the
"You'vf a chance to conquer
*!iis last frontier."
chance this Project is giving you.
You've a chance to be nation-build
ers. You've a chance to be heroes.
You've a chance to conquer this last
frontier and make happy homes
here and ? "
But the envious rabble-rouser at
my side had no intention, obviously,
of surrendering the stage to an
outsider. There was a shout of
laughter as I was unceremoniously
bumped oft the porch end.
"Don't listen to this kid-tamer,"
I could hear Ericson shouting as I
gathered myself up. "She can't
pull that kindergarten stuff with men
like us who know our own minds.
And know, as well, that she's the
private pastry of that imported col
lege-dude engineer who's trying ? "
And that, still again, was as far
as Eric the Red got.
His speech was cut short by a
bullet that splintered the poroh post
within ten inches of his head. Be
fore he could recover from his aston
ishment at that interruption a sec
ond bullet cut through the crown of
his hat and buried itself in the wood
work behind him.
I glanced back, at that second
shot, and caught sight of Sock-Eye
standing just beyond the outer fringe
of the crowd.
"Grab that old fool," someone
cried. "He's drunk."
"Drunk, am I?" he croaked as he
advanced slowly toward the porch
end, the clustered bodies making
way for him as he so threateningly
moved forward. "Mebbe I am; but
I'm still sober enough t' scotch a
two-legged snake."
The only person who didn't fall
back was Ericson. I don't know
whether it was courage, or whether
it was hopelessness.
Sock-Eye took three slow steps to
ward him.
"Now dance high, tenderfoot," he
suddenly barked out. And with equal
abruptness the two poised pistols re
peated that bark, splintering the
porch floor at Ericson's feet.
Ericson didn't exactly dance. His
foot-movement, as a third bullet
nipped the toe of his foot, must have
been largely an involuntary one. But
his repeated movement, as another
bullet cut into the sole-edge of his
other boot, might have been inter
preted as a none too happy dance
step. And that was repeated until
he stood with his back against the
porch post.
When he suddenly holstoted on
ut liii SS jerked out his
sheath knife I thought, for a dread- j
ful sccond or two, that the old fire
eater was so far forgetting hiniself
as to disembowel a helpless enemy.
But I could see, when it was all over,
that the Hashing knife blade had
merely severed Ericson's belt and i
slashed loose his trouser legs, leav
ing him standing there bare-kneed
helow his ridiculous cotton shorts.
Then with incredible dexterity the
old desert-rat swung ihe twisted leg
clo'.h around the younger man's star
tied body, knotting him there a pris
oner against the post. His move
ments were more leisurely as he tied
a third st.-ip about Ericson's thin
neck.
I had no clear suspicion of Sock
Eye's intentions until 1 saw him
stroll down the steps and pick up an
empty salinon un lying in the load
dust. There he eyed it with solemn
approval.
His steps were distressingly un
steady as lie returned to the porch
and placed the tin on Ericson's
head. A laugh went up from the
crowd when Ericson shook the can
from its resting place.
Sock-Eye solemnly replaced it.
"Do that again," he croaked, "and
I'll sure fan the bump o' veneration
oiT'n your skull."
He backed slowly away, the full
length of the porch.
"That gun-fanning old fool's go
ing to pull the William Tell trick,"
cried someone at the edge of the
crowd.
"Better get an apple," cried an
other guttural voice.
But I couldn't see any excuse for
mirth in the situation. I could feel
my heart come up in my mouth as
I saw Sock-Eye's long arm swing
about in an airy half-circle, with
the heavy six-gun in the tremulous
old hand.
The shot rang out before I could
reach the porch. And at the same
time the empty salmon tin went
spinning through the evening air.
Sock-Eye, ignoring the shouts ot
the crowd, went solemnly after it.
His intention, apparently, was to re
peat that foolish and perilous per
formance. But it was cut short
when a military-looking car swung
in from the highway and Colonel
Hart flung out of the seat beside
his driver.
"Arrest that man," he calied to
the Anchorage marshal who stood
on the running board.
But with an altogether unexpected
nimbleness Sock-Eye rounded the
Commissary, dodged out past the
stock shed, and disappeared in the
spruce scrub, at the same time that
Katie and her Black Maria roared
closer along the highway that skirt
ed the railway siding. Ot the seat
beside her was Salaria, armed with
a rifle, and plainly a self-appointed
vigilante.
"Who's hurt?" I heard Colonel
Hart call out as the ambulance shud
dered to a stop.
"Two transients caught setting a
fire," answered Katie. "They
showed fight and had to be sub
dued."
"And it was Sid Lander done the
subduin'," proudly announced the
self-appointed vigilante at her side,
CHAPTER XIX
When Barbara Trumbull and her
father came in, they came by plane.
What prompted that return was, ol
course, unknown to me.
But I was more worried, at the
time, by Sock-Eye's abrupt disap
pearance. The bullheaded old gun
fanner had possessed himself of two
pack mules, which he hid in the
hills beyond Knik Glacier and loaded
down with grub and equipment and
three cases of dynamite. Rumor had
it that S'lary Bryson had not only
been his go-between during those
preparations but had been his com
panion and trail mate on his first
day's travel out through the hills.
And after that the silence had swal
lowed him up.
When I went to the Bryson shack,
to glean a little more light on the
matter, I found Sam alone there,
alone and singularly acid-spirited.
But when I questioned if Sock-Eye
wasn't too old and erratic-minded
for lone-fire prospecting like that
he refused to share in my fears.
"That of sourdough knows Ins
hills. And he knows how t' mush
through 'em, winter or summer."
"Where's Salaria?" I asked as I
made a show of producing the text
books that motivated my visit.
"Bear shootin'," was Sam's trucu
lent reply.
"I'm sorry," I said, "that she's
missing a lesson.'
That seemed to give Sam the open
ing he wanted.
"It ain't wringin' no tears out o'
me," he protested. And there was
no mistaking the tremor of indigna
tion in his voice. "What's more,"
he continued, "instead o' all this
book-readin' doin' my S'lary a bit o'
good, it's fillin' her up with enough
loco idees t' founder a pack horse.
And I ain't thankin' you or anyone
else for pizenin' her mind and mak
i in' her about as easy t' live with at
I an underfed she-grizzly."
(TO BE CONTINUED}
It Cost If h taller To/tpt-r
'!'? ^ Win' tilot
? V # fit
The artist Whistler had just en
tered the London Arts club, when
an alarming uproar brok.- lorth
It came Iron* the coatrooin. Has
tening there he found the poet
Swinburne, in an insane fury,
tramping o!> hats and shrieking:
"My hat ? they've stolen my
hat!" his hair flying. 1. arms
windrnilling. his eyes b!a/:n^.
Contemplating the scene 1 . -r a
few moments. Whistler n
his hat, and approached the poet.
"Isn't this your hat, old chap?"
he asked, fitting it on the yellow
mane. Swinburne accepted it with
a kind of howl and rushed out.
Whistler went home that night
bare-headed, but pleased.
Islands in Patvn
?When we talk about the British
isles we are apt to think only of
the big ones, forgetting that oncc
upon a time the Isle of Wight had
a king of its own. So had the Isle
of Man. Henry Beauchamp was
crowned king of the Isle of Wight
in the reign of Henri VI. King
Henry placed the crown on his
head.
The Orkneys and Shetlards oncc
belonged to Norway, but they
were handed over to Scotland as
dowry with a Danish princess in
1468. They were, so to speak,
pawned, because for a long tinit
Norway held the right to redeem
them by payment of a sum of
money. Later, the claim was re
nounced.
Unsought Thoughts
The thoughts that comc often
unsought, and, as it were, drop
into the mind, are commonly the
most valuable of any we have, and
therefore should be secured, be
cause they seldom return again. ?
Locke.
DON'T BE BOSSED
BY YOUR LAXATIVE -RELIEVE
CONSTIPATION THIS MODERN WAY
? When you feel gassy, headachy, logy
due to clogged-up bowels, do as millions
do ? take Feen-A-Mint ct bedtime. Next
morning ? thorough, comfortable relief,
helping you start the day full of your
normal energy and pep, feeling like a
million! Feen-A-Mint doesn't disturb
your night's rest or interfere with work tho
next day. TVy Feen-A-Mint, the chewing
gum laxative, yourself. It tastes good, it's
handy and economical ... a family supply
FEEN-A-MINT lo*
Short World
Think not thy time is short in
this world, since the world itself
is not long. The created world
is but a small parenthesis in eter
nity. ? Sir Thomas Browne.
Service Stations
There are over 240,000 service sta
tions in the United States, witb
Texas having the most.
Largest Library
The Library of Congress in Wash
ington, D. C.. is the largest library
In the world.
Inwardly Borne
Great joys, like great griefs, are
silent. ? Marmion.
Driven by Thought
A spur in the head is worth two
in the heels.
WHEN kidneys function badly and
you suffer a nagging backache,
with dizziness, burning, scanty or too
freauent urination and getting up at
night; when you feel tired, nervous,
?If upset . . . use Doan's Pill*.
Doan't are especially for poorly
working kidneys. Millions o? boices
are used every year. They are recom
mended the country over. Ask yo?T
neighbor! _