ROBBERS' I
ROOST
by
Zane Grey
r
Copyright.?WNU 8*rrto*.
[v//Avr.vjAitvr.vr.vrA
CHAPTER XIII?Continued
?19?
Soon they were on the way, Helen
comfortably settled In the back of the
two-seated wagon and Jim riding be
side Tasker In front.
A rancher, at whose place Tasker
stopped, invited them to pass the night
at his house, and next morning take
the road from there to Grand Junc
tion, which could be reached In a long
day's drive. Jim accepted both Invita
tion and advice. In the morning Tas
ker bade them good-by and God-speed.
"Thank you, Mr. Tasker," replied
Helen. "1 shall remember your kind
ness. And I'd like to buy back the
two horses Jim traded you."
"I'll fetch them, if you'll tell me
where," replied the rancher.
"Star ranch, north of Grand Junc
tion."
"I've heard of thet Wal, you may
expect me some day, though I had
taken a likln' to your bay hoss."
Jim drove off In the clear cold air
of a mountain autumn morning be
fore the sun had come up.
"Helen, you shouldn't have asked
him to fetch the horses," said Jim re
provingly. "He'll find out I lied."
"Lied! What about?"
"I told Tasker you were my wife."
"Oh, that!" laughed Helen, and
turned away a scarlet face. "It can be
explained easily?If necessary. . , .
Look! This glorious country! . . .
No, I don't ever want to leave It."
Somehow Jim got through that long
ride of suspense, fear and thrills, and
when they reached Grand Junction
just after dark It was none too soon
for him. Fortunately he got Helen
Into the little Inn before she was rec
ognized, and then returned to put the
tired horses In the care of a stable
boy. Jim did not risk entering store
or saloon, Hays had had secret friends
there. Yet Jim was keen to hear the
gossip about Star ranch. He was late
for supper, having taken time to shave
and change his shirt.
To bis surprise be found Helen radi
ant.
"What do you think Bernle has
done?"
"Bernle!" ejaculated Jim.
"Yes. My brother. This good woman
told me. . . . Jim, you are the richer
by ten thousand dollars."
"Richer? . . . Me!"
"Indeed. Bernle offered ten thou
sand dollars for my safe return."
"You know I wouldn't take a dol
lar!" flashed Jim.
"Well! What do you want, Jim?"
she Inquired, with a woman's sweet
tantalising mystery. "However, never
mind that now. Listen. Bernle hired
all the riders available to hunt for
me. Also he found where Hays sold
our cattle, and he forced the buyers
to sell back every head, at the price
they paid. He threatened to take the
case to Salt Lake City."
"That's sure good news. It might
have a tendency to end rustling, at
least In wholesale bunches. Did you
hear how badly your brother was
hurt?"
"She did not mention that Any
way It couldn't have been much, for
Bernle has been here. . . . Aren't you
going to eat any supper? Oh, I shall
not sleep much tonight . . . And what
shall I tell Bernle?"
The query was arresting to Jim and
he hastened to direct her mind Into
other channels, trying to make her feel
concerned- that they had still fifty
miles to cover.
Every moment of that ride next day
was a Joy and a pang. It seemed as
short as the preceding one had been
long. Helen was gay, sad, thoughtful,
and talkative by turns, but she did not
Infringe on the one subject that cruci
fied Jim.
it cnanced that as they surmounted
the pass that led down Into Star ranch
valley the sun was setting out of a
glorious cloud pageant over Wild
Horse Mesa and the canyon brakes of
the Dirty Devil. Jim Judged of Its
beauty and profundity by the sudden
silence It enjoined upon his compan
ion. She never spoke another word
until Jim halted the team lu front of
the ranch-house porch. "Home!" she
whispered as If she had never ex
pected to see It again.
At Jim's halloa Herrick came out
on the porch. "By Jove?here you
are!" was his greeting, as cool and
unemotional as If they were returning
from a day's visit to the village.
"Yes, Bernle, here I am?thanks to
tny escort," replied Helen.
Jim helped her out, while some cow
boys came running.
"I'll take the team down," Jim said,
hurriedly.
"You come In," returned Herrick, as
he gripped Jim's hand and gave him
a searching glance. He kissed Helen
and led her In, with his arm around
her. Jim purposely lingered at the
task of collecting Helen's worn and
tnuddy luggage, and carried It In.
Brother and sister stood with arms
locked, and their gaze was bard to
meet
"Jim, you will have supper with us,"
she said, "I'll leave you and Bemle.
. . . Oh, what will a tub and a change
feel like!"
She gathered up her things and ran
out of the living rooui.
"Helen hadn't time to tell me much,"
Herrlck said. "Hays kidnaped her for
[ ransom. Took her to a hellhole down
in the brakes. Robbers' Roost, she
j called It Held her there captive. They
fought among themselves?gambling
with my money. Heeseman's crew
found them. There was a battle. In
the end you killed Hays and brought
Helen back. . . . That's the gist of her
story. But I want it In detail."
"I have all the money, almost to a
dollar, Herrlck," replied Jifb
The Englishman regarded That as of
little consequence and urged Jim to a
recital of the whole affair.
Presently Herrlck spoke with some
thing of gravity: "Helen told me that
I was to keep you at Star ranch. I
hope you won't let this Hays debads
drive you away."
"It'll be Impossible for me to stay."
rejoined Jim, briefly. "But thanks for
your kindness."
"I'll have you manage the ranch?
give you an Interest. Anything?"
"Please don't embarrass me further.
I can't stay. . . . It's hard to con
fess?but I have had the gall, the
absurd luck, to fall In love with your
sister. I couldn't help it ... I want
you to know, however, that It has
turned me from that old outlaw life.
I'll go away and begin life over again."
"By Jove! So that's your trouble.
Does Helen know?"
"Yes. I told her. It was after she
asked me to come and stay at Star
ranch. She said she would never feel
safe again unless I came. So I had
to tell her."
"Declare I don't blame her. I'd feel
a little safer myself. That devil Hays
left his trade-mark on me. Look here.
... By thunder, Wall, It's a blooming
mix. I understand you, and think
you're a man to respect and like.
Can't we get around the trouble some
how ?"
"There Is no way, Herrick."
"Helen has her own sweet will
about everything. If she wants you to
stay, you'll stay, that I can assure
l?i,a..wj.vwa ?? i ??
"Please Look at My Cinch," She Re
plied, Coolly.
yon. Is there any honorable reason
why you ought not stay?outside of
this unfortunate attachment to
Helen?"
"I leave* you to be Judge of that"
replied Jim, and briefly related the
story of his life.
"I like your West I like you west
erners!" Herrick exploded. "Whatever
Helen wants Is quite right with me.
... I can't conceive of her Insisting
on your staying here?unless there Is
hope for you."
"That is wild, Herrick. I can't con
ceive of such a thing. It wouldn't be
fair to take her seriously?after the
horror she's been through?and her
intense gratefulness."
Helen came in to breakfast next
morning attired In the riding habit
she had worn on that never-to-be-for
gotten day of their ride.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Herrick. "If
I were you, I'd never want to ride
again!"
After greeting her, Jim could only
look his admiration and wonder.
"I am taking up my ranch life
where it left off?with reservations
from sad experience," replied Helen,
as she took her seat. "Bernle, we had
to trade Jim's horse, Bay. What can
he ride today?"
"He may take his choice. There arc
any number of good beasts."
"By the way, Jim. I told Tasker to
follow us at once with our horses. I
shall treasure that horse, Gray. A rob
ber's horse! . . . Tasker ought to be
here soon, maybe tomorrow."
Jim felt the solid earth slipping
from under his feet
"I expected to leave today," he said,
casually. "But I'll wait until tomor
row. Bay Is a horse I hated to part
with."
"So soon!" exclaimed Helen, with
dark. Inscrutable eyes on him.
"l'ou are home. All Is well with
you."
"Bernle, could you not Induce Jim
to stay?" she queried.
Herrick waved a deprecatory hand.
"Bernle has consented to let me share
his ranching enterprise," she said. "I'd
like to see It pay?a reasonable In
terest, at least And I have rather
conceived the Idea that it'd be difficult
If not Impossible, without you."
"Not at all," replied Jim, constrain
edly.
Presently she arose: "Come, let ns
ride. We can discuss it better In the
saddle."
Jiin could not find his tongue. He
was vastly concerned with this ride.
After it, would he be as strong as
he was now? Tj be near her. . . .
Barnes led the onslaught of ranch
hands upon Helen, and the welcome
she received could not have been any
thing but gratifying.
Jim got on the horse Barnes saddled
for him and followed Helen who to his
surprise took the road back up to the
ranch house. Perhaps she had for
gotten something. But when he turned
the bend she was mounting the trail
that led up the ridge. If there had
been giants on huge steeds pulling Jim
back, he still would have kept on. '?
When they got up to the level ridge,
among the pines, he trotted to catch
up with her. But she kept a little
ahead.
His thoughts locked around the 1
astounding fact?this was the trail
they had ridden down, after that en
counter when he had kissed her. Sight
and hearing, his sense of all around j
him, seemed strangely intensified. The
pines whispered, the rocks had a secret
voice, the sky turned blue, the white
clouds sailed, the black Henrys loomed
above and the purple-gray valley deep
ened its colors below.
Helen halted her horse under the
very pine where they had stopped to
listen to the hounds and cowboys rac
ing up the ridge after the deer.
"My sense of direction seems to be
all right," said Helen.
"Helen, I fear it's better than your
sense?of kindness, let me say. ? ? ?
Why did you bring me here?"
"Please look at my cinch," she re
plied, coolly.
Jim dismounted, more unsure of
himself than ever In any of the many
crucial moments of his career. He did
not understand a woman. He could
only take Helen literally.
Her saddle cinch was all right, and
he rather curtly told her so.
"Then?maybe It's my stirrup," she
went on, lightly, as she removed her
booted and spurred foot
"Well, I can't see anything wrong
with that either. . . . Helen."
Something thudded on the ground.
Her gloves and her sombrero. But
they surely had not fallen. She had
flung them! A wave as irresistible as
the force of the sea burst over him.
But he looked up, outwardly cool. And
as he did her gloved band went to his
shoulder.
"Nothing?the matter with?your
stirrup," he said huskily.
"No. After all. It's not my cinch?
nor my stirrup. . . . Jim, could any of
your western girls have done better
than this?"
"Than what?"
"Than fetching you here?to this
place?where It happened."
"Yes. They would have been more
merciful."
"But since I love you?"
"You are mad," he cried.
"And since I want you?presently?
to behaTe somewhat like you did that
day."
He reeled under that The truth was
almost overwhelming. The strong,
earnest light of her eyes told more
than her words. Her pallor had van
ished. She was no longer cool.
"Jim, you might have saved me
this. But perhaps it is just as well.
You are laboring under some-delusion
that I must dispel. ... I want you?
ask you to stay."
"If you are sure?I will stay. Only,
for O?d's sake, don't let it be any
thing -but?but?"
"Love," she added. "Jim, I am sure.
If I were going back to England, I
would want you to go, Just the same.
. . . It's what you are that has made
me love you. There need be no leveling.
I lived years down in Robbers' Roost.
That changed me?blew the cobwebs
out of my brain. This wonderful West
and you are alike. I want both."
"But I am nobody. ... I have noth
ing," he cried haltingly.
"You have everything a woman
needs to make her happy and keep
her safe. The fact that I did not know
what these things really were until
lately should not be held against me."
"But it might be generosity?pity?
the necessity of a woman of your
kind to?to pay."
"I rue. 11 imgiii ue. uui j u i?n u
... I brought you here!"
Jim wrapped his arms around her
and for the reason that he was
ashamed to betray the tears which
blinded his eyes, he buried his face
In her lap and mumbled that he would
worship her to his dying breath and
in the life beyond.
She ran soft ungloved banns through
his hair and over his temples. "People,
cities, my humdrum existence had
palled me. I wanted romance, adven
ture. love. ... Jim. I regard myself
just as fortunate as you think you are.
Lift me off. We'll sit a while undo*
our pine tree. . . . Jim, hold me as you
did that other time?here!"
[THE KM).)
Jiu Jit*u
Jiu Jltsu means literally the art of
making one's opponent use his strength
to his own disadvantage. It is not a
system of muscle building by physical
training, but rather a means of offset
ting the effectiveness of powerful mus
cles by performing the most simple but
skillful maneuvers. It Is a scientific
application of the knowledge of the
weaker spots in the human anatomy.
Every trick that would be accounted
"foul" In wrestling and boxing is the
height of excellence In Jiu Jltsu. This
science is taught to officers and enlist
ed men of the Japanese array, navy
and the police force. The Unite
States government has recognized It
importance by having It taught at We
Point and at Annapolis as a specie
training.
HAPPY and prosperous New
K i 1 Year!" All day the words
j/ J A had been flung at Bob Cam
\ eron; everywhere he went
jJVjhj they echoed In his ears. He
wanted to shut them out, to
forget that a New Year was
^ beginning.
Last night. In summing up the old
year, he had come to the conclusion
that he was an utter failure, that he
might as well discard the Idea of be
coming a writer. Every story that he
had sent out had come back. Lt was
true that a few editors had encour
aged him?one of the best known In
the country had told him to keep on,
that he had a flne literary style. But
none of them had kept bis offerings.
Bob felt that the wisest thing he
could do was to chuck the whole thing
at the beginning of the New Year. Yet
down In his heart he knew that writ
ing was a part of him; that it would .
be an almost Impo&ible task to keep
away from the untidy desk back In his
den. But he would have to do It, a
man couldn't hold a girl to a promise,
with nothing to offer her but failure.
Bob knew that Dorothy Trent was
back of his resolution to quit the writ
I Ing game. He loved" Dorothy and she
loved him. They had been engaged
since their senior year at Northwest
ern. It was time that he should say
something about marriage; It was not
fair to hold her as he was doing. He
would have to get a position that
would enable him to keep a girl like
"It Will Be Glorious to Help You Work
Out Your Career."
Dorothy; he couldn't ask her to exist
on the meager pittance he was getting
from the Fryor company. He had tak
en the job simply because It gave him
so much time for writing, caring noth
ing at the time for the small salary
and the lack of opportunity that It
held.
The unhapplnesa brought by his re
solve showed plainly in the weary
droop of Bob's shoulders and the tired
lines on his boyish face. He found it
i hard to join in the small t&lk and fun
of the New Year's party that was go
ing on. If Dorothy hadn't been so in
sistent upon his coming, he would have
! remained away, for he was In no mood
; for frivolity. And now, an even deeper
bitterness had crept into his heart, as
i he watched the crowd pay tribute to
! Everett Elstun, the literary lion of
Raymondvllle.
He wondered how Dorothy had got
Elstun to her party; he was a bit of a
recluse and seldom mingled with the
crowd. He was surprised as he saw
him walking across the room, with an
eager look upon bis face.
"How are you coming with your
writing?" he asked.
Bob gave a mirthless laugh. "I've just
decided that as a writer I'm a pretty
good hod-carrier. The fact of the mat
ter Is, Mr. Elstun, I've made a New
Year's resolution to quit."
"Giving up in a hurry?" Elstun said,
a trifle sharply.
"I've been trying for almost two
years," Bob answered.
"And you think a few hours every
now and then for two years should
hare brought you success? Listen,
boy, 1 was writing full time for more
than three years before I got a hint
that I wasn't wasting Ink."
In a moment Bob was confessing his
real reason for quitting. Hlstun lis
tened quietly, then he spoke. "I, too,
had that problem." he said. "There was
a girl ; I felt sure she wouldn't be sat
Isfled with what I had to offer. For
tunately. I found out In time she want
ed to share my struggles. Maybe the
girl you love feels the same way."
Bob found that Klstun was right.
Dorothy was aghast at the thought of |
his giving up the work he loved, or !
doubting that she would want to share
his poverty. "It will be glorious to
help you work out your career," she
assured him.
So a new resolution was made that
called for success Instead of failure.
The New Year was going to bring Bob
the acceptances that he craved.
C- We?t?rn N?w*:>**>*r Union.
Pretty Good World
Scientists studying evolution predict ;
that mankind will become perfectly
adapted to Ita environment In about ,
5.000.000 years. If It la going to take !
aa long at that, we can afford to yield
briefly to the holiday aplrtt and gay
blithely that thla la a pretty good
world?that for one ao young It haa
done a good deal and haa never
behaved Itaelf better than right now.? j
Woman's Home Companion.
THE NEW YEAR j
By GEORGE COOPER
in IndUntpolis Newt I
A SONG for the Old
While its knell ij tolled.
And its parting moments flyt
But a song and a cheer
For the glad New Year,
While we watch the Old Year die!
Oh! its grief and pain
Ne'er can come again.
And its care lies buried deep;
But what joy untold
Doth the New Year hold.
And what hopes within it sleep!
A song for the Old,
While its knell is tolled.
And the friends it gave so true!
But, with hearts of glee.
Let us merrily
Welcome in the bright, bright New!
For the heights we gained.
For the good attained,
We will not the Old despise;
But a joy more sweet.
Making life complete.
In the golden New Year lies,
A song for the Old, 9
While its knell is tolled.
With a grander, broader zeal,
And a forward view.
Let us greet the New,
Heart and purpose ever leal!
Let the ills we met.
And the sad regret.
With the Old be buried deep;
For what joy untold
Doth the New Year hold.
And what hopes within it sleep!
fhej^la/d
|l^Nartha flgpM
& Thomajuffl fe NlW YfAK J F
MFI1HE town hall of the small
(I ,|X* tillage of lenders had no
clock, but a bell In the cu
? o-jggfc , pola. The Janitor was one of
those fussy fellows who
make a positive creed of do
jCLJJf ing everything on the dot
ZiitiI 1 jie ^ept his watch set "rail
road time," consequently when the old
man entered the hall In the morning,
every one knew It was exactly one
minute of seven. The selectmen met
there. The offices of the probate judge
were on the second "floor. The town
hall had to be kept warm. When the
janitor ten ai nigru
I Jt was exactly five
I mlnutea past six. At
I nix the bell pealed
I out its only ringing
^ for the day. and peo
B pie set their watches
I by It.
M Old Foxtoo had a
E cubby-hole of h I ?
F own w here he could
P rest and smoke
when he wasn't
& busy. It was the
' custom on New
Years eve for the
town nan oen 10 ring our ar miumgnt.
Though many enthusiastic youngatera
would hnre liked to send the joyous
clanging out over the roofs of the
town. Old Koxton would have none of
It. That day he stayed seventeen hours
In the town hall. But nothing Is set
tled or sure, even In a small, well
regulated village.
one of the youths who had long cov
eted the fun of New Years eve bell
rlnglng held a conference with a
friend. "Have you ever thought,** said
this enterprising young man. "what a
Joke it would be to have the whole
town late for a day?"
Ilia friend cocked up his ears.
"It's possible for one Individual to
send the lives of a thousand people
Into a tall spin of unpunctuallty . . .
over a mere matter of ten minutes."
They stared at each other, a slow grin
growing on their faces. "You pull the
right lever and then watch. In this
case the right lever is old Foxton.**
They went into a huddle of secret
planning.
At twelve that night they were to hold
especial celebration. They could count
on Old Foxton. The moment the big
bell began to clang . . . that would
be the first Instant of the first minute
of the New Year. Exactly! There was
something fine and dependable In the
thought of Old Foxton. they said. Gave
you confidence In the human race lie
ther Time himself.
At one mlDute of
twelve, where par
ties were in prog
ress. every one
stopped talking, i
They waited ex pec- ft
tantly. The minute //
hand crept on to a
twelve. Lips were
opened In readiness w3
to shout with the ^
first ringing of the -<
great bell. But no f
sound came clang
ing over the roof
tops . . . only the small tinkles of their
own clocks chiming the hour.
SILENCE 1 Nothing more.
They couldn't believe it. For forty
years that bell had been rung precisely
on the dot The little clock-bells ceased
their chimes. The minute hand crept
by the hour. All the awaited thrill
collapsed miserably.
Til tell you what It 18," cried some
one, "We're wrong . . . our time la fast !"
They waited. At ten minutes past
the hour the big bell sounded Its
twelve deep notes. Clocks were set
back ten minutes. Even those people
awakened from their sleep looked at
their watches and set them right with
the belL
Next day confusion reigned?often
annoying but not serious. Radio pro
grams were tuned in ten minutes after
their beginning.
Two solemn youths, unnaturally
grave, were exhibiting their watches to
this and that unconvinced citizen. "But
you're wrong, both of you," declared
every one. "We were all wrong. We
know it because we set our clocks by
the midnight bell."
The boys raised surprised eyebrows.
"But we," they said, "have correct
?railroad' time. Nobody in Landers Is
right . . . but us!"
It came out at last It had to, of
course. Old Foxton sputtered to his
wife. His wife told a neighbor. The
news ran like wildfire. Though inclined
to be scandalized at first, the whole
town laughed. It came to be consid
ered a capital Joke ... If never re
peated.
Twenty minutes before midnight the
Janitor in his cubby-hole found himself
Dounu. ana noi too
roughly gagged. His
watch was removed
front his pocket and
held before his eyes.
The minutes ticked
themselves away
until twelve. The
old man writhed In
his bonds. Not a
sound from the
steeple.
Five minutes past
. . . ten minutes
past the hour. Then
the slow clanging of
twelve strokes.
Foxton never discovered who kept
him In his chair or who rang the bell.
Bandit* lee a handkerchief swathed
all but the eyes of his Jdiler. When the
last stroke sounded, the stranger un
tied Foxton's arms. He swiftly left,
locked the door, and threw the key
through the transom. By the time the
old man had freed himself there wasn't
so much as a sound in the entire bntld
Ing.
"It's a good Idea, Just the same,"'
remarked one solemn youth to another, ,
"for a person not to be right all of j
the time!"
And then they laughed ... but never
told.
A Waefarii V?waDSJ>?r UnlWk
CHARMING QUILT
IS "SUN BONNET*
Br GAANDMOTHEB CLAJUC V
I I '
Many mothers sod grandmother*
would get busy and make the "Sua
Bonnet" quilt for a home darling if
they could see just how cunning it
looks when finished. One of the six
poses of the baby is shown here. The
18 inch blocks are stamped on white
material. The applique patches are
stamped for cutting and sewing on
many colored beautiful prints. The
embroidery Is in simple outline
stitch.
Send 15c to our quilt department
and we will mail you one complete
block like the above picture, also
picture of quilt showing the six dif
ferent blocks. Make this one block
up and see how it looks when fin
ished. Six blocks, each different,
will be mailed for 75c postpaid.
This is another of our good-look
ing quilts and. like the others, must
be worked up to be appreciated.
Address?Home Craft Co.. Dept.
D. Nineteenth and St. Louis Avenue,
Sl Louis, Mo.
Enclose stamped addressed en
velope when writing for any Infor
mation.
Dinner for Company
Nothing is so inelegant as trying
to "pet on airs." At a party you offer
your guests a little more than yon
would have if you were dining alone,
the reason being that you do not
know exactly what they like and
therefore provide a wider choice than
you would for your family with
whose tastes you are familiar. A gay
and pretty house, a charming table,
well-prepared and well-served food,
offer the formula for a successful
party. If tl!e hostess is straining ev
ery nerve, and it is evident that she
has undertaken more than she can
accomplish with rase and pleasure, a
dinner or luncheon is almost doomed
to failure.?Mrs. Leicester Lancaster
In Good Housekeeping Magaxlne.
To the Elderly, Anyway
A "rare musical treat" Is usually
something old.
FseUshacs* Etcrmal
Not eren age frees one from mak
ing a fool of himself.
Indicated a* am Alterative k
the Treatment c4
roaMATlCTOR, COOT,
? t All Drm**??ta
J-. My * W WlmU~U Hi 11 li i
I" For Cosghs d? f r?lk, Mhwcl
Broocbial and Threat li i Hall? I
JAg. BAILT a gOif. Bsltlssoeo. MS. |
WNC?4 52?34
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our readers for this II
newspaper and its II
advertising patrons. II
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