North Carolina Newspapers

VOL. XLII K GRAHAM CHURCH DIRECTORY. I Baptist—N. Main Si.— Ja«. W. ■ Kobe, Factor. I Pieachiug services every first Hand Third Sundays at 11.00 a. m. Hand 7.30 p. m. f Sunday School every Sunday at a. m.—C. B. Irwin, Superin ■ tendent. ■ Graham Christian Church—N. Main ■ Street—Rev. J. D\ Trait'.. Pleaching Berviceß every Sec ■ und and fourth Sundays, ai U.UO B a. m. Sunday School every Sunday at ■ 10.00 a. m.—ii. L. Henderson, Super- I in tendent. New Providence Christian Churcn I —North Main Street, near Dtpol— f ltev. J. O. Truitt, Pastor. Preach I tug every Second and fourth Suu | day nights at 8.00 o'clock. Sunday School every Sunday at 9.46 a. m.— J. A. Bayliff, Superin ' tendent. Christian Endeavor Prayer Meet ' ing every Thursday night at 7.45. o'clock. Friends—Worth of Graham Pub lic School —Kav. le,n.ng Martin, Pastor. Preacaing Ist, 2nd and 3rd Sun days. auiidav School every Sunday ai 10.00 a. m.—uauies Cnsco, Sapeii.i leuuent. * - iVletiioilisl Episcopal, aouui— e»i iViJin ana iduple St., H. IS. Myers PdSlOl. i'reacuing every Sunday at li.ub a. ut. autl at ~Ju p. ui. Sueday aciioui every Suuuay », v 9.4 aa. ui.— W. b. tireen, Supt Ai. P. chare,i—Main Strut,., Kev, O. a. *. iiiia.iis, Padior. lirsi aud i.ura Sun days at it a. m. autl 8 p. m. Sunday School every Sanaa v' at 9.45 a. m.—a. L. Ahuck, Supt. Presbyterian—Wst iiliii Street- Rev. f. M. McConneil, pastor. Sunday Sciiooi every Suuaay ui 9.45 a. m.—Lynn b. V> iiliaiusoii, Su perintendent. Presbyterian Chapeij- J. W. Llegg, pastor. Preaching every Second anu tour Hi Sundays at 1.30 p. m. Sunday Scnool every Sunday ai 2.30 p. m.—J. Harvey White, Su perinteudent. Oneida—Sunda/ X School ever> Sunday at 2.30 p. in.—J. V. Ponie roy, Superintendent. PROFW3BIUNAL (JARDis E. C. DERBY Civil Lngineer. GRAHAM, N. C.. National Bank ol Alamance B'l'o'g. BURLINGTON, N. C„ Room 16.15t National Bank Building. 'Phone 470 JOHN J. HENDERSON Attorney-at-Law GRAHAM. N. C. Office over National Bank ol Alamance jr, S_ COOK., Attorney-at- Law, (iHAHAM, N. C. Offlce Patterson Building ttecond Floor •ML WILIA LOAti.Ju. . . . DENTIST . . . Qraham .... North Carolina OFFICE INS J MMONts UUILDINo ACOB A. LOflU. J. ELMKR LONG LiONU & LONU, v.nomey» and Counßulorn ut l av\ GKAHAM A. C. JOH i>i H. VEHMON Alluiut) anu louubtJoi-Jil-l-^w ♦ f'UALs —ouice heniueute litKlvlWluf., JV C. l>r. J. Lbietuot OV Lit b biOHL LiOt*v c ui *liauiuuce 1 ual uiacj I'livuc 'J i itCbiUciiCt? 1 lioiit SC>2 Uilict, Liuuio z--i p. U». anu uj App iiiimciji. I JL>K. ii. LUiitiNL hOLI 21 22 aaUtA 4* Ituok thtkk Stuuiuch and tiibcaaeo a Specialty, rhonca, uiiice ooj,—res lueuce, J. in tiuufs L) oiicaniu>; auu biauati LliOtdOt tUlt >eu *»» u>'- 4la u .- "♦ (iiC i ill Lt lili. it- ia •» p-7 ({i cdi out pi toe uu aecouiH vii Uo oi UUJUVLI oo lii rtJie > tu 0 |>aii j kU oidUut-i k.tuUcjh *iiu oat h # Ui UAiUf 'Ji It'ilialt luilt-tea ieu ii Uutl Ui ■ H4LL-t iliUUdl ilUiUt'Uiait'i; il* you warn ijuicJt relifcl autl cult U tins lii ibe reiueily dolci uy vjia ham Drug Co. adv. UVkbOt thklbllAN MINIS'! LKS This book, entitled as above, contaixiß over 200 memoirs of Min isters in the Christian Church H with historical references. An Interesting volume—nicely print ■ and bound. Price per copy • cloth, •a.OOjgi.'S top, »2.60. ii) H mail 20c extra. Orders may Ix sent to ■k P. J. Kkbnodle, 1012 E. Marshall St., Kichmond, Va ■prders may be left at this office. THE ALAMANCE GLEANER. QheKMTr * STAD DMQM CHAPTER I. So It was In him, then—an Inherited fighting Instinct, a driving intensity to kill. He was the last of the Duanes, that old fighting stock of Texas. But not the memory of his dead father! nor the pleading of his soft-voiced mother, nor the warning of this uncle who \ stood before him now, had brought to Buckley Duane so much realization of the durk, passionate strain In his blood. .It was the recurrence, a hun dredfold increased In power, of n strange emotion that for the last three years had arisen In him. "Yes, Cal Bain's In town, full of bad whisky an' huntln' for you," re peated the elder man, gravely. "But what's he want me for?" de manded Duane. ''To insult me again? I won't stand that twice;" "He's got a fever that's rampant in Texas these days, my boy. He wants gun-play. If he meets you he'll try to kill you." Here It stirred in Duane again, that bursting gush of blood, like a wind of flame shaking all his inner being, and subsiding to leave him strangely chilled. "Kill me! What for?" he asked. "Lord knows there ain't any re4s6n. But what's that to do with most of the shootln' these days? Didn't five cow boys over to kill one another dead all because they got to Jerkin' at a quirt among themselves? An' Cal has no reason to love you. His girl was sweet on you." "I quit when I found out she was his girl." "I reckon she ain't quit. But never mind her or reasons. Cal's here, just drunk enough to be ugly. He's achln' to kill somebody. He's one of them four-flush gun-fighters. There's a lot of wijd cowboys who're ambitious for a reputation. They laugh at the sher iffs an' brag about how they'd fix the rangers. Cal's sure not much for you to bother with, If you only keep out of bis way." "You mean for. me to run?" asked Duane, in scorn. "I reckon I wouldn't put it that way. Just avoid him. Buck, I'm not afraid Cal would get you. What I'm niQst afraid of is that you'll kill Bain." Duane was silent, letting his uncle's earnest words sink in, trying to realize their significance. "Buck," went on the uncle, "you're twenty-three now, an' a powerful sight of a fine fellow, barrln' your temper. You've a chance In life. But if you go gun-flghtin', if you kill a man, "I'd Never Hang." you're ruined. The rangers would make you an outlaw. This even-break business doesn't work with them. If you resist arrest they'll kill you. If you submit fo arrest, then you go to jail, an' mebbe you hm»g." •"I'd never hang," muttered Duane, darkly. "I reckon you wouldn't," replied the old man. "You'd be like your father. He was ever ready to draw—too ready. In times like these, with the Texas rangers enforcln' the law, your dad would have been driven to the river. He was killed In a street-fight. An' It was told of him that he shot twice after a bullet had passed through his heart. Think of the terrible nature of a man, to be able to do that. If you have any such blood In you, never give It a chance." "What you say Is all very well, uncle," returned Duane, "but the only way out for me Is to run, and I won't do It. Cal Bain and his outfit have already made me look like a coward." "Well, then, what're you goln' to do?" Inquired the elder man. "I haven't decided—yet." "No, but you're comiri' to It mighty fast. That terrible spell is workln' In you. You're gettin' cool an' quiet, an' you think deep, an' I don't like the light In your eye. It reminds me of your father." "I wonder what dad would say to me today If he were alive and here," Bald Duane. "What do you think? What could you txpect of a man.who never \vo[e GRAH a glove on Ills right hand for twenty years?" "Well, he'd hardly have, srfld much. Dnd never talked. But lie would have done a lot. And I guess I'll go down town and let Cal Rain find me." Then followed a long sllenee, dur ing which TMinne sat with downcast eyes, and the uncle appeared lost In sad thought of the future. Presently he turned to Duane with an expression that denoted resignation, rnd yet a spirit which showed wherein they were of the same blood. "You've got a fast horse—the fast est I know of In this country. After you meet Bain hurry hack home. "I'll have a saddlebag packed for you and the horse ready." With that he turned on his heel and went Into the house, leaving I)uane to revolve In his mind bis singular speech. That hour of Dunne's life was like years of actual living, and In It he became a thoughtful man. He went Into the house and Inspect ed his belt and gun. The gun was a Colt .45, six-shot, and heavy, with an Ivory handle. He hud packed It, on and off, for five years. Before that It had been used by his father. There were a number of notches filed In the bulge of the Ivory handle. This gun was the "one his father had fired twice after being shot through the heart, and bis hand had stiffened so tightly upon It in the dentil-grip that his fin gers had to he pried open. It had never been drawn upon any tnnn since It bad come Into Dunne's possession. But the cold, bright polish of the weapon showed how It had been used. Duane could draw It with Inconceiv able rapidity, and at twenty feet ho could split a card pointing edgewise toward him. Duane wished to nvold meeting his mother. Fortunately, as he thought, she was away from home. II(? went out and down the path toward the gate. The air was full of the fra grance of blossoms and the melody of birds. Outside In the road a neighbor woman stood talking to a countryman in a wagon; they spoke to him; and hi; heard, hut did not reply. Then he began to stride down the road toward the town. Wellston was a small town, but Im portant In that unsettled part of the great state because It was the trading center of several hundred miles of ter ritory. On the main street there were perhaps fifty buildings, some brick, some frame, mostly adobe, and one third of the lot, and by far the most prosperous, were saloons. Duane's eye ranged down the street, taking In ail at a glance. By the time he reached Sol White's place, which was the first saloon, he was talking slowly. Sev eral people spoke to him and turned to look hack after they had passed. He paused at the door of White's sa loon, took a sharp survey of the Inte rior, then stepped Inside. The saloon was large njid«npol, full of men and noise and srtiofe. The noise censed upon his entrance, and the silence ensuing presently broke to the clink of Mexican silver dollars nt a moute table. All eyes except those of the Mexican gamblers were turned upon Duane. Several of the cowboys and ranchers present exchanged glances. Dunne had been weighed by unerring Texas Instinct, by men who all packed guns. The boy was the son of Ills father. Whereupon they greeted him and rwjurni-d to their drinks and cards. SiJ) White stood with his big, red hands out upon the bur; he was a tall, rawhoned Texan, with a long mustache waX(«Ma sharp points. "Howdy, Buck," was his greeting to Duane. He spoke carelessly and avert ed his dark gaze for an Instant. "Howdy, Sol," replied Duane, slowly. "Say, Sol. I hear there's a gent In town looking for me had." "Reckon there Is, Buck," replied White. "lie came in heah a hoot an .hour ago. Shore he was some rlleif an' a-roarin' for gore. Told me confi dential a certain party bad given you a white silk scarf, an' lie was bell-bent on wearln' It home spotted red." "Anybody with him?" queried Duane. "Hurt an' Sam Outcalt an' 11 little cow-puncher I never seen before. They fill was coaxln' him to leave town. Rut he's looked on the llowln' glass, Ruck, an' he's heah for keeps." "Why doesn't Sheriff Oaks lock lilm up If lie's that bad?" "Oaks went nwnr with the rangei*. There's been another ral'l nt I'leslier's ranch. The Kins Fisher gang. likely. An' so the town's shore wide open." Punne stalked outdoors and faced down the street. ll'* walked the whole length of the long block, meeting .niiny people—farmer*, rancher*, clerk*, merchants, Mexican*, cowboy* and women. It was a singular fact that when he turned to retrace his steps the street was almost empty. If It was a# Instinct for Teions to fight, It was also Instinctive for them to sense with remarkable quickness the sign* of a corning gun-play. Humor could : not fly so swiftly. In less than ten minutes everybody who had been on the street or In the shops knew that Ili'ck I>uane hud come forth to meet his enemy. | Puane wnlked on. When he came ' to within fifty pace* of a saloon he I swerved out Into the middle of the street, stood there for a moment, then ' went ahead and back to the sidewalk. He passed on In this way the length of the block. Sol White was standing In the door of his saloon. M, N. C., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1916 "Buck, I'm a-tlppln' you oft," he Raid, quick and low-voiced. "Cal Bain's over nt Everall's. If he's a-huntln' you bad, as he brags, he'll show there." | Duane crossed the street and start ed down. Notwithstanding White's statement, Duane was wary and slow at every door. Nothing happened, and ! he traversed almost the whole length of the block without seeing a person. I Everall's place was on the corner. | Duane knew himself to be cold, steady. He was conscious of a strange fury that made him want to leap! Hla Bullet Scattered Duet and Gravel at Duane'* Feet. ahead. He seemed to long for this en counter more than anything he hnd ever wanted. But, vivid as were his sensations, he felt as If in a dream. Before he reached Everall's ho heard loud voices, one of which wns raised high. Then the short door swung out ward as If Impelled by a vigorous hand. A bowlegged cowboy weurlng woolly chaps burst out upon the sidewalk. At sight of Duane he seemed to bound Into the air, and he uttered a savage roar. Duane stopped In his tracks at the outer edge of the sidewalk, perhaps a dozen rods from Everall's door. If Bain was drunk he did not show It In his movement. He swaggered forward, rapidly closing up the gap. lied, sweaty, disheveled and hatless. Ills face distorted and expressive of the most malignant Intent, he was a wild and sinister figure. He hud al ready killed a man, and this showed In his demeanor. Ills hands were extend ed before him, the right hand a little lower than the left. At every step he bellowed his rancor In speech mostly curses. Oraduully he slowed his wulk, then halted. A good twenty-five paces separated the men. "Won't nothln' make you draw, yon "I'm waltln' on you, Cal," replied Duane. Bain's right hand stiffened —moved. Dunne threw his gun as a boy throws a ball underhand —a draw his father had taught him. He pulled twice, his shots almost as one. Bain's big Colt boomed while It was pointed down ward and he was tailing. Ills bullet scattered dust and gravel nt Duane'a feet. He fell loosely, without contor tion. In a flash all wns reality for Dunne. He went forward - and held his gun rendy for the slightest movement on the pnrt of Bain. But Bain lay upon his back, and all thut moved were his breast and his eyes. How strangely the red find left his face—and also the distortion! The devll thnt had showed In Bnlii was gone. He wus sober and conscious. He tried to speak, hut failed. Ills eyes expressed something pitifully human. They changed— rolled—-set blnnkly. Dunne drew a deep breath and sheathed Ills gun. lie felt culm and cool, glad the fray was over. One violent expression burst from him. "The fool I" When Sic looked up there were incn around him. "l'luinb center," said one. Another, u cowboy who evidently hnd just left the gaining table, leaned down and pulled open Bain's shirt He had the ace of spades in his hand. He laid It on Bain's breast, and thi black figure on the card covered the two bullet holes just over Baia'g heart. ( Duane wheeled and hurried away. He heard another mari say: "Iteckon Cal got what he deserved. Buck Duane's first gun-play. Like fa ther like son!" CHAPTER 11. When Dunne carni* to the gate of his home and saw bis uncle there with a mettlesome horse, saddled, with can teen. rope and bags all Iri place, a subtle shock pervaded his spirit. It had slipped his tnlnd—the consequence of bis act. But sight of the horse and the look of lilh uncle recalled the fact that he muHt now become a fugitive. An unreasonable anger Umk hold of hi rn. "That d 1 fool !'* he exclaimed hotly. "Meeting Bain wasn't much. Uncle Jlrn. Idilated my boot*. that's all. And for that I've got to go on the dodge." "Son. th* uncleTyuftklly. "VM. I Htood over lilm—wntrhed hlrn die. I did a* I would have been done by." "I knew It. Iconic ago I law It com- In'. Hut now we can't atop to cry over spilt blood. Vou've got to leave town an* fhf* part of the country." "Mother!" exclaimed Iniane. "She's away from home. Yoii can I wait. I'll break It to her—what she al'AjiyH feared." Suddenly I>uane sat down and cor ered hi h face ulth hi a hand*. 1 «**My God! Uncle, what have I done?" Ills broad shoulders shook. "Listen. *on. an* remember what I nay," replied the elder man, earnestly. | "Don't ever forget. You're not to blame. I'm glad to see you take It this way, because maybe you'll never grow linrd au' callous. You're uot to blume. | This Is Texas. You're your fattiest son. These are wild times. The 1(M as the rangers are laying It dowrgjSiw can't change life all In a mfrite." ! "I'm a murderer," said Dunne, shud dering. | "No, son, you're not. An' you never | will be. But you've got to be an out law till time makes It safe for you to come home." | "An outlaw?" | "I said It. If we had money an' In fluence, we'd risk a trial. Hut we've neither. Strike for the wild country, an' wherever you go an' whutever you do—be a man. "You can't come home. When this thing In lived down. If that time ever comes, I'll get word Into the unsettled country. It'll reach you some day. That's all. Kemetnber, be a man. Ortbd-by." | Dunne, with blurred sight and con tracting throat, gripped his uncle's hund and bade him a wordless fare well. Then he leaped astride the black and rode out of town. As swiftly as was consistent with a enre for his steed, Duane put a dis tance of fifteen or dgliteen miles behind him. lie passed several ranches, and was seen by men. This did not suit him, and ho took an old trail across country. It wns a flat region frith a poor growth of inesqulte and prlckly-pear cactus. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of low hills in the distance, lie had huutcd often In that section, and knew where to find grass and water. When he reached this higher ground he did not, however, halt at the first fuvorable cnmplng spot, but went on and on. At last lie found 11 secluded spot, un der cover of thick mesqultes anil oaks, nt a goodly distance from the old trail. He took saddle and pack off the horse, made a Bmall fire, prepared and ate his supper. This done, ending the work of that day, he sat down and filled his pipe. When night set In and the place seemed all the more lsolnted and lonely for that Duane had a sense of relief. It dawned upon lilm all at once that he was nervous, watchful, sleepless. The fact caused liiin surprise, and he began to think back, to take note of his late actions and their raotlwes. The change one day had wrought amazed him. lie who had always been free, easy, happy, especially when out alone In the open, hud Iconic in a few short hours bound, serious, preoccupied. He felt tired, yet had no Inclination to rest. He Intended to be off by dawn, heading toward the southwest. Had he a destination? It was vague as his knowledge of that great waste of mesqulte and rock bordering the ltlo Grande. Somewhere out there was 11 refuge. For he wits' a fugitive from Justice, an outlaw. This being an outlaw then meant eternal vigilance. No home, no rest, no sleep, no content, no life worth the living! lie must be a lone wolf or he must herd among men obnoxious to hlin. If he worked for an honest liv ing, he still must hide his Identity und tnke risks of detection. If lie did not work on some distant, outlying ranch, how wns he to llvtf? The Idea of stealing was repugnant to him. The future seemed gray and somber enough. And he was twenty-three years old. But whut was the matter with the light of his campflrc? It had taken on a strange green luster and seemed to be waving off Into the outer shadows. Duane heard no step, saw no move ment; nevertheless, there was another present at that campfire vigil. Duane saw >ilin. He lay there In the middle of the green brightness, prostrate, mo tionless. dying. Cal Bain! That haunting visitation left Duane sitting there In a cold sweat, a remorse gnawing at Ills yljals, realizing the curse that was on liiin. lie divined that never would he lie utile to keep ofT that phantom, lie remembered how his father had lieeii eternally pursued by furies of licensing guilt, bow he had never been able to forget In work or In sleep '.nose men he hinl killed. The hour was lute when Duane's Blind let him sleep, and then dreuraa troubled hlrn. Iri the morning he be stirred himself so enrly that In the gray gloom he had difficulty In finding his horse. Day had Just broken when lie struck the old trail again. He rode hard all morning und halted In a shady spot to rest and graze his horse. In the afternoon he took to the trail at an easy trot. The country grew wilder. Bald, rugged mountains broke the level of the monotonous ho rizon. About three In the afternoon he came to a little river which marked the boundary line of bis bunting terri tory and followed It upstream. In this kind of travel and camping be spent three more days, during which he crossed a number of trails, and one where ejittle—stolen cattle, probably had recently passed. He followed the road until a late hour, when, striking the wiliow brakes again and hence the neighborhood of the river, lie picketed bis horse and lay down to rest. ' But he did not sleep. Ills mind bitterly re volved the fate that bad come u|s>n liltn. lie made efforts to think of other things, but In vain. Every moment he expecteil the chill, the sense of loneli ness that yet was ominous of a strange . visitation, the peculiarly Imagined lights and shades of the night— these things that presaged the coming of la I Bain. Doggedly Duane fought against j the Insidious phantom, lie kept tell ing himself that It was Juxt Imagina tion, that It would wear wff In time. Still In his heart be did not believe | what he hoped. But lie would not give up; lie would not accept the ghost of j his victim as a reality. (Jray dawn found hlin In the saddle I again, headed for the river. Half au ' hour of riding brought til in to the dense chaparral and willow thickets, j These he 1 breaded to come at length to the ford. Once upon the opposite shore, he reined In bis horse and looked darkly back. This action marked his acknowledgment of his sit uation: he had voluntarily sought the refuge of the outlaws; be was beyond I the pale. The trail led Into a road wld'h was hard packed and smooth from the tracks of cattle. He doubted riot that he had come across one of the roads used by border raiders. He headed Into It, and had scarcely traveled a mile when, turning u curve, he came point-blank upon a single horseman rtiling toward him. I!oth riders wheeled their mounts sharply and were ready i to run und shoot back. Not more than a hundred jflices scpnrated them. They stood then for a moment watching each other. "Mawnln", stranger," called the man, dropping his gun to his hip. "llowdy," replied Duane shortly. . They rode toward each other, clos ing half the gap, then they halted again. I "I seen you ain't no rnnger," called the rider, "an' shore I ain't none." He laughed loudly, made a Joke. "How'd you know I wasn't a rnnger?" asked Dunne curiously. Some- Both Rider* Wheeled Their Horsei Sharply. how lie hail Instantly divined that this horseman was no ofllcer, or even u rancher trailing stolen stock. "WMI." said the fellow, starting Ills horse forward at a walk, "a ranger'd never git ready to run the other way from one man." He laughed again. He was small and wiry, slouchy of attire, and armed to the teeth, and he bestrode a flue bay Jiorse, lie had quick, dancing brown eyes, at once frank and bold, nml a coarse, bronzed face. Evidently he was a good-natured ruffian. l'tinne acknowledged the truth ot the assertion, and Kirned over In his mind how shrewdly the fellow had guessed 111 lit to he a hunted man. "My name's I.like Stevens, all' I hull from the river. Who're you?", said tills stranger. Dunne was silent. "I reckon you're Buck Duane," went on Stevens. "I heerd you was a bad man with a gun." Tills lime Duane laughed, not at the doubtful compliment, but at the Idea that the first outlaw he met should know him. Her* wns proof of how swiftly facts about gun play traveled on the Texas U^iler. "Wal, Buck," said Stevens, In a friendly manner, "I ain't presuinln' on your time or company. I see you're headln' fer the river. But will you stop long enough to stake n feller to a bite of grub?" "I'm out of grub and pretty hungry myself," admitted Duane. "Been pusMn' your buss, I sire. Wal, I reckon you'd better stock up before you bit tliet stretch of country." He made a wide sweep of his right srm, indicating the southwest, and there was that 111 his action which seemed significant of a vast and bar ren region. "Stock up?" queried Dunne, thought fully. "Shore. A feller has Jest got to eat. I can rusile along without whisky, but not without grub. Thi-t's what makes It so fiiihiirri|NKln' travelln' these parts dodgln' your shadow. Now. I'm on my way to Mercer. Il's a little two-bit town op the river n ways. I'm goln' to pack out some grub." Stevens' tone was Inviting. Evident ly he would Welcome Dunne's compan ionship. but he did not openly say so. Dunne kept silence, however, and then Stevens went on. "Stranger. In this lu re country two's a crowd. It's safer. I never was iiiuell on this lone wolf dodgln', though I've done It of nei-esslty. It takes a mighty good man to travel alone any length of time. Why. I've been tliet sick I was Jest ll bin' fer some ranger to come iiiung an' plug me. fiive me a pardner nny day. Now, mebhe you're not tliet kind of a feller, an' I'm shore not presuuiln' to a*k. But I Jest de clares myself sufficient." "You mean you'd 11 k«* me to go with yonT' naked limine. Steven* grinned. "Wnl. I ahould wnlle. I'J be |mrfl# tiliir proud to be brared with a IIIHU of your reputa tion." H Bee here* li»y good fellow, that'* nil flon.*ijiMe," de-lured l»uatje, In pome hfiftte. "Sbore I iliink rnode*ty heroin In' to ft youngster," replied Steven*. "I hute n brag. Ituek. I don't know iuu«-h about you. Hut every mnn who'* lived along the Tex JIM bolder remember* a lot nhout your 1 Jest heerd thet you WIIN IlictiYnlri* on the draw, an* when you rut lootuf with a gun, why the flicker on the are of n pud en would rover your Hunter of hulb*t hole*. TIH'I'H the word thet'a pone down the border. Now. Huck, I'm not a nprlng rhlrken. an* I've U'cn long on the dodgt*. Mebbe a little of my aoelety won't hurt you none. You'll need to learn the ronntry." There wa* something *lm*?re and likable about thin outlaw. "I dare nay you're right," replied IMiane. quietly. "And I'll go to Mer rer with you." Next moment he wan riding down the road with Steven*. Iniane had never lieen omrh #»f a talker, and now he found *j>eeeh difficult. Hut hi* rornpanlon did not aeern to mind that. He wan n Joroae. voluble fellow, prob ably glad now to hear the aound of bin own voire. Ptiane listened, and nometlme* he thought with a pang of the ditttlnrtlon of name and heritages of blood IIIH father had left to hliu. TO BB CONTINUED. SUNDAY SCHOOL. Lesson Xl—Fourth Quarter, For Dec. 10, 1916. THE INTERNATIONAL SERIES. Text of the Leteon, Rev. ii, 1-17—Mem ory Verse, 7—Golden Text, Rev. Ji, 10. Commentary Prepared by Rev. D. M. Btearne. Although three of the seven epistles ore Included In this lesson. we rnuHt t»7 j to consider somewhat the whole seven, for they ure the lust messages from the risen und ascended Saviour to Ills church on enrth. perhaps some sixty years, as we count time, after He as cended. and contain Ills heart mes sage* concerning that which lie ap proves or disapproves. These seven churches represented all the churches of that time and now and between then and now. and as Individual be lievers we iniist Ifi.v to heart the les hoiim. the warnings, admonitions and for our personal use in our dally life. I Imvo foiiwl It helpful, nnd many otliern iilho. In write do" II I liesc love letlei'H In wviMi 11:11iillt'l. vertical col umn* on ii In rise slu'ct of |iu|>er, t'lac lug 11j >| iiniic in imi'li. Inirixoitlully. like mutter In en- Ii «-i»lisiU-. each column it Ii the kcoolliik lo llie ctiurcli; tlivn liis lltloH, wliich are dllTercut In eacli; al I lie fool of em Ii column the |>roinlMe lo llie overcome!*. wlilrli Is olho different in each, and then the admoni tion, "Me Unit hath an ear let him hear what the Spiiii hiiiili unto the churches," whlrh in I lie first three conies before llie overcoming promise and In the last fyiur follows It. -Tbc words of comfort and eiicouragement and waruliiK and adinonltlon come lti between these (lrst two and last two Items. I .el us pray to know Illm more Intimately as lie reveals Himself tc eacti church according to their need Ho holdeth the messengers to each church In Ills right hand and walks In the.midst of the churches (chapter. I, lit, 20; 11, li This lielpH me perHonnlly, for l-om Kind to be In Ulh lioml mid for Ills pleasure, and I "in iilwu.vh remlndlnK my own | eopic find the l»ll»le clashes that lie IH In our nildht, according to Mutt zvftil, 20, mid we must mliik and pray and meditate find worship with nn offering, an If we really saw Illm In our mldttt To Smyrna lie was the (lrnt ii ml laht. who wax dead, but now alive icliajders I. 17. II. H). Tlilh wii h what they »peliiily needed, for they were being persecuted unto death (11, 10). and their overcouilng [iromlse was that the hc ond death, which lx the lake'of tire, would never touch them (11. 11; xx, Mi. To Pergamos He was the one who had the sharp sword with two edges il, Hi. 11. I'Ji, nnd be cause of evil |ea hers tolerated t4ierc th lm was hm they needed to know Ulm lie encoiiraged the I'lpheslans to think of the trei» of life In paraillse, and lie would have these to cat real manno now. true bread from heaven, and think of the hidden manna, die white stone, and the new name reserved for them ill. 7, IT». To Thyatlra He was the Son of God. with eyes like unto a flame >f fire, and Ills feet like fine brass (I, 14. la; 11, 18) They. too. had false tea- hers, and uiueti the world, and knew some thing of the depths of Katun, but their en ourageiiieiii to be oven'omers wan fii>ist wonderful and unihlnk:ible If lie had let said I' power over the na tlons sip h an Ihe I ntlier had given Illm. and 11 1iiihcI f am the morning star (11, IV 11. H. ii; cxllx. O-li; Itev. xxII. Pii What glorious things to win us wholly \> Himself during this little while of temptation' To Sardls He whs the one who had the seven Hplrlt* of liod and the seven stnrs d. 4, 1(J; 111. 1 for they had dead ones there who liiid only a name lo l.ve and need ed th" pil-keulug •»f the Spirit. Thelf pnuiilHc vviih ihut «-f white raiment, naiiii'd In the I»*m»!; of life nnd confess in I before 'j •" I sfel the angels If thej should prove tl.eni-elv e N ovcrcoiners (HI. *.» T i l'hiliote||.:i..i Il«. vv ti h the II »ly and True «:ne. haUiig the key of I »a vld. o{»c:ihitf imd "hullfug m plensure ninl ilie m tiii iif to overcome vv it • Hiit of I.i ll.;: ii pillar in the (cm p]«. or •;• 11 vvlil»..ihc n.iine of (Jod in, J the 'it. «.f H d the New Jcrusa letn eon 'l"«ii out of heiiven from ij uiid 11!« " ■ ii ih vv name (111. 7. l-'i There !• i wpe« int prorul-e here con rpruliii* hi'.iij k«- i f,«iu Ai* hour of t•*f:iJ •*it f ion •' !. «li -1..i1l fry ull thai ijwi'll on i'.«- «* ir: li (ill Ho. w !»! h tony lit- lii'lf mut I i hiu* uiUi-n Muiiy befort l!i«* f 1 1 1. lil ti ii 'l'li-iI we Khali !*• I it.mi l»«*for»* lli.it «\> fill (lino 1» unre To !.*"• ll« «*n lie wiih the Aiurn. the f»il4hfw| mi | trin- w lines# , i| ( . hciftn flilit; *'f rH'Bll'Mi "f «•»'!. Ilfli] ti. flii>4 Womi |•! »>i «• >f i !iiir- li lift', of ln« W of !,(«•. i i»r«• m- • i'» f lio over roir it «."h fli«- i.*■ riifi'!*t of all. to Hit w Hli Kim in HU thone (111. I I. '.'l» II |.*»k« fi- .f I'm. ;ri''!iT flu* !■•••«! nti'l tfir lnMi-r their oi illiii.ii fin- greater (VJM If I- f'• Mil tlirfll out of It On' v In f .ih rp «*h* «! > we find Ifl in iihl. iriif r« r tin i c|>.. r fo our hearts tli.it Ifi* iii-n Miter In JIM| «oip with iiv mi :•»», ir«. iii'i riu- • i«• •i! nr«- Uith looking for "| i ri i|-..,r" • I' hii till. - 'St l \Vhof:» « 111 \ > >'J 11ri *i• Not li e In f I lih-n T« *f lli.it t her N fi" tri'-fif.«»!» *»f rf»rnnl life which rnniiot In nnv w*i> I v w« f"r. oi cariM ! «-r I *-»rf . in »fllv Ik* oh tulm-d i* »i ft'-'- L*i i i'l'«fll vl S'.i Hut the rroM n "t llf»* tin-it* mentioned In n •!»#•« !;iI r»'" ur«l f.r nil vived one* who jiitli'fil;\ endure Sh» nl«*o .In* I, 12. Th"-«i* ii* »• the • »t» I > two | lnet. ough Mrdlrlur tor Children. Mrs. f!u}?h l ook, Scottivill". N". Y . Htyn, "About fi v • veirs n£ > wln-!i wo ucrc li\-n£ in Onrbutt. V Y . I doctor•-I iwii of my chil dren MiffiTinjc from colds uith ('harnh'Tla.n'A Remedy \rui found it junt is r -present* I in every wiy. It promptly o'lwkod their contfhintf and cured t h"ir cold* (juir'K'T tb'in any thing I cvrr UHfd." Obtainable everywhere. adv. SUBSCRIBE FOR THE GLEANER 11.00 A YEAR NO. 43 Get Rid of Tan f Sunburn and Freckles by using HAGAN*S Magnolia Balm. Acts instantly. Stops the burning. Clears your complexion of Tan and Blemishes. You cannot know how good it is until you try it. Thous ands of women say it is be& of all beautifiers and heals Sunburn quickest. Don't be without it a day longer. Get a bottle now. At your Druggist or by mail diredt. 75 cents for either color, White. Pink, Rose-Red. SAMPLE FREE. LYON MFG. CO.. 40 So. sth St., Brooklyn, N.Y. t BT3R .V: 111 Cotton Mill Property For Sale ! Under and by virtue of the au thority given the undersigned by an order ot the Superior Court oI Alamance county, duly and regu larly made and entered in a pro ceeding tlierein pending entitled, "C. I'. Aibrignt, Who Hues on be half of himself and other creditors, vs. Jfolt-liranite Manufacturing Company," the undersigned wut mil on me premises of sjidj Holt- Uranite Manufacturing Company, immediately in front of the office building, in the village of Haw Kiver, Alamance county, North Car olina, on SATUKDAY, DEC. 30, 1916, at twelve o'clock, noon, the follow ing property, to-wit: a tract or parcel of land contain ing about one hundred and thirty acres, upon wnich are factory buildings, tenement house*, a rol ler mill, store buildings, ana otn er buildings, cotton manufacturing iiiulpm.ini, and all that property going to make up tlie manufact uring plant Holt-Granite Manufacturing Company, anu fully described in a deed of trust exe cuted by the Holt-Granite Manu facturing Company to the under (rigned as trustee, and bearing date oi July Ist, 11)11. This deed of trust is recorded in the office of the Kegiftter of Deeds for Alamance county, ana parties desiring to investigate this property will find lull description ill lhi» deed of trust and can oo tain information concerning said property by applying to tne un dersigned or its attorneys. Tins property will bo offered by the undersigned both as Receiver of said Superior Court of Alamance County, and as trustee under said deed of trust, and wi|l be Bold at public outcry to the best, bidder, and will be sold as ono This sale is made subject to die confirmed by Alamance Supemir Court, and the order of sale pro vides that reports shall be made thereof within five days after mak ing said sale. ierma of sale, CASH. VIHUINIA TRUST CO., Receiver and Trustee. John VV. Graham, liillsboro, N. C. K. S. Parker, Jr., Uraliam, N. C„ Attys. Land Sale! Under and by virtue of an order of the Superior Court of Alamance counlj', made in tne .special pro ceeding entitled the Piedmont 1 runt company, ah administrator of Miss Fannie Albright, deceased, v« Mrs. Milrtlia 'inompson, John 1 hompson, Sallie 'Shoe, et al». the undii administrator wiU, on SAT UK DA V, DEC. 23, 1916, it VI o clock, noon, at the co irt be. use Joor in Graham, North Caro i:i.j&, offer lor sale to the beat« bid der for i anii that certain tract or parcel tn land Ijing and being in Aliimine'i county, isortn Carolina, adjoining lie lands of Phillip laley and others, and inoie particularly d» scriLetl .is follow S, to-wit The samo being known a» lot No. fc, an l ginning at a stone, a eor- I ner with lot No. b and on the isley* line N. 4'i deg. W. 1 tl links to a stake in Inley's corner; I thence on with Islet's line N. 71 deg. VV. 7 chain* and £>d links to | a stake, another corner with Isley ; I thence again with his line S. 4/!4 |d« g. \V. II chains and HO links to a stone on Isiey's line; thence S. 47 d'g. E. 4 chains to a htone; the.ice N. o"!* di*g. ii. Is chains and 20 links to the beginning, and contain ing eleven anil seven-tenths acres, j more or less, j .'ierma of sale CASH. This. November 24, 1016. T nl2 VI EDMON 1 THUST CO., Administrator. Sale ol Real Estate Under Trust Deed. I !•«]« i awl by virtue of the (xiwi rof tale c.i,ta.u 1 Hi a « rialu Ue*-d ol trust «*r«;ut.»d h) Jan.. » t '1 t'tiiCU)' ai.-J wll« to 111* unOer •>iirii**«l In^uranee Heal Katate » ouip.tu) on Jainmry 1/til. WIS, for the pur ol tin* |»h> weui al maturity of « itfhl U'li'ia "I t*\i II Uttti- therewith, * hlch • ..1 ~r uti'i ih «iuiy pr«>t;uted and ncorued 111 til' "IIU4- ol llie iu-tf later ol I feed h for Ala niAiiiM- count) ii. iiook or .Murtirairt • aud I't-Hnof 11 u*i No tliat pageglT. Uefaull I»4V- Hig i*«jii liiM'lv in th>» |>a>iUftil of tile lbter • ni on •ot.'i l»oml» accor«liii|f to their u*uor, the iiiilvralKK««l IrualLt' wui, ou WhbMISDAV, I)KC. 20, 1910, nt one o'eloc-k p. iu., at the court houae door •»i Alamance county, la tiraham, N. ♦otter lor hmi* at pulilic auction to the hiKhent UiU uer lor cu»u a certain iruct or parcel of laud In (utile low ukhl.. Alamance couuty, Mate of North C arolina, a)joining the laitj» ot I>. M Elder, Jeivu Vaughn, Isaac nharpc, St. Paul Cliurch and othera, and bouuUed aa lol | lo h • : ife-giunln*. lit a corner with Jfiae Vaughn (mi Hit* north » lit* ul the U. lieiuout roaU. run n,i»* l hence with Mti«i i»«i .\ M ilvg JJ in in K to the corner o! the line ot J. J, ehar(>e; ihence with the tine of J. J. Mmrpc uul «u J'aul church N .1 iltK \\ 47#?- a leel to coruer with nam church; ihruce N lo Uck W levt to me church turner; them e wltu their Hue Kto ooruer of J. Miarpe; lh> ucu with Hue ol J.J. ftharpc* mid 15.4*. c-harpe N 2}.j Ue* K -lu'J leel to « birch ire?, coruer of smiu Isaac Miarpe s line; thence with the Hue ot **l4 hiUer N St ucgAN VW leel to a stake ou hlder'a Hue; thence * Ith bluer » Hue &68 Uef » tJUi leel to corner *nh tract No. tKf l>. M. hi tier; them e Mlkli Iheilhcol aa;U blder a.iij VauytiU ft • * ueg h ai>uui leel 10 the tH-giuumg, being lra«.t No. 1 of the survey of tue Hoil larujß uear Ajutnance Factory. 1 his November Uth, 1910. A LA >1 amd IN ft. * UKdL ESTATE CO., irutttae.