Newspapers / Forest City Courier (Forest … / Dec. 13, 1928, edition 1 / Page 18
Part of Forest City Courier (Forest City, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
'iPfIAST™ DUANES WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE Buck Duane, quick on the draw, kills Cal Bain in self-defense and finds himself an outlaw. Flying from pursuit, he meets Luke Stevens, an other outlaw, and the two become pals. Luke narrowly escapes capture and Duane is shocked to find his brother outlaw severely wounded. Duane buries Stevens. Then he goes on to Bland's camp, where he | gets into a fight with a man called j Bosomer and wounds the latter. He j makes a friend of an outlaw at | Bland's called Euchre, who tells him i of Mrs. Bland and the girl Jennie. Duane meets Jennie, and promis es to try his utmost to get her away from Bland's camp. To avert suspic ion, it is planned that he pretend to care for Mrs. Bland. Euchre intro-j duces him to the latter and he en gages in conversation with her. Buck plays the game, making Mrs. Bland think he loves her. To avert Bland's suspicion, Mrs. Bland pre tends to her husband that Buck has come to visit Jennie. Bland urges Buck to become a regular member of his outlaw gang. j * * * Accounting for the short cut across grove and field, it was about five minutes' walk up to Bland s house. To Duane it seemed long in time and, distance, and he had difficulty in re- j straining his pace. As he walked there came a grad ual and subtle change in his feelings, i Again he was going out to meet in conflict. He could have avoided this meeting. But despite the fact of his courting the encounter, he had not as yet felt that hot, inexplicable ex pulsion of blood. The motive of this deadly action was not personal, and somehow that made a difference. No outlaws were in sight. He saw several Mexican herders with cattle. Blue columns of smoke curled up over some of the cabins. The frag rant smell of it reminded Duane of his home—that he used to cut the . wood for the stove. He noted a cloud of creamy mist rising above the riv er, dissolving in the sunlight. Then he entered Bland's lane. While yet some distance from the j cabin he heard loud, angry voices of man and woman. Bland and Kate still quarreling! He took a quick suivey : of the surroundings. There was now not even a Mexican in sight. Then he hurried a little. -- Half-way down the lane he turned his head to peer through the cotton woods. This time he saw Euchre coming with the horses. There was no indication that the old outlaw might lose his nerve at the end. Duane had feared this. Duane now changed his walk to a j leisurely saunter. He reached the porch and then distinguished what was said inside the cabin. "If you do —Bland, by Heaven, I'll fix you and her!" That was panted out in Kate Bland's full voice. "Let me loose! I'm going in there, I tell you!" replied Bland hoarsely. "What for?" "I want to make a little love to her. Ha-ha! It'll be fun to have the laugh on her new lover." "You lie!" cried Kate Bland. "Let me go!" His voice grew hoarser with passion. » "No, no! I won't let you go! You'll j choke the—truth out of her! you'll kill her." "The truth!" gritted Bland. "Yes. I lied. Jen lied. But she lied to save you. You needn't — murder her —for that." Bland cursed horribly. Then fol lowed a wrestling sound of bodies in violet straining contact —the scrape of : feet—the jangle of spurs—a crash of sliding table or chair, and then the cry of a woman in pain. Duane stepped into the open door —inside the room. Kate Bland lay half across a table, where she had been flung, and she was trying to get to her feet. Bland's back was turned. He had opened the door in to Jennie's room and had one foot across the threshold. Duane caught the girl's low, shuddering cry. "Good morning!" he called, loud and clear. With catlike swiftness Bland wheeled—then froze on the thresh j hold. His sight, quick as his action, j caught Duane's menacing, unmistak- I abld position. j Bland's big frame filled the door. He was in a bad place to reach , for his gun. But he would not have I time to step. Duane read in his eyes | the desperate calculation of chances, f For a fleeting instant Bland shifted j his gaze to his wife. Then his whole body seemed to vibrate with the j swing of his arm. Duane shot him. He fell forward, j his gun exploding as it dug into the i floor, and it dropped loose from I stretching fingers. Duane stood overj him, stooped to turn him on his back. Bland looked up with clouded gaze, j then gasped his last. "Duane, you've killed him!! cried { Kate Bland huskily. "I knew you'd have to." She staggered against the wall, her eyes dilating, her strong hands clenching, her face half stunned, but showed no grief. ' i "Jennie!" called Duane sharply, j "Oh —is it you—Duane?" came aj halting reply. "Yes. Come out. Hurry!" She came out with uneven steps, I seeting only him, and she stumbled I over Bland's body. Duane caught her j arm, swung her behind him. He | feared the woman when she realized j how she had been duped. His action; was protective, and his movement 1 toward the door equally significant. "Duane!" cried Mrs. Bland. : It was no time for talk. Duane [ edged on, keeping Jennie behind him. At that moment there was a pound ing of iron-shod hoofs out in the lane. Kate Bland bounded to the door. When she turned back her amaze was changing to realization. "Where're you taking Jen?" she cried, her voice like a man's. "Get out of my way!" replied Du ane. His look, perhaps, without speech, was enough for her. In an instant she was transformed into a fury. "You hound! All the time you were fooling me. You made love to me! You let me believe —you swore you loved me! Now I see what was queer about you! All for that slut! But you can't have her. You'll never leave here alive! Give me that girl. Let me get at her. She'll never win any more men in this camp!" She was a heavy, powerful woman, and it took all Duane's strength to ward off her onslaughts. She clawed at Jennie over his upheld arm. Every second her fury increased. "Help! Help! Help!" she shrieked in a voice that must have penetrat ed to the remotest cabin in the val ley. j "Let go! Let go!" cried Duane, low and sharp. He still held his gun in his right hand, and it began to be hard for him to ward the woman off. His coolness had gone with her shriek for help. "Let go!" he repeated, and he shoved her fiercely. Suddenly she snatched a rifle off the wall and backed away, her strong hands fumbling at the lever. As she jerked it down, throwing a shell into the chamber and cocking the weapon, Duane leaped upon her. He stuck up the rifle as it went off, the powder burning his face. "Jennie, run out! Get on a horse!" He said, still low and sharp. Jennie flashed out of the door. With an iron grasp Duane held to the rifle-barrel. He had grasped it with his left hand, and he gave such a powerful pull that he swung the woman off the floor. But he could not loose her grip. She was as strong | as he. j "Kate! Let go!" I He tried to intimidate her. She did j not see his gun thrust in her face, I or reason had giv6n away to such an extent to passion that she did not care. She cursed. Her husband had j used the same curses, and from her j lips they seemed strange, unsexed, j more dfeadly. Like a tigress she fought him. Her face no longer resembled a woman's. The evil of that outlaw life, the wild ness and rage, the meaning to kill was even in such a moment, terribly; impressed upon Duane. He heard a cry from outside—a man's cry, hoarse and alarming. It made him think of loss of time. This demon of a woman might yet block his plan. "Let go!" he whispered and felt his THE FOREST CITY COURIER, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1928 lips stiff. In the grimness of that in stant he relaxed his hold on the rifle barrel. With a-sudden, redoubled, irresist ible strength, she wrenched the rifle down and discharged it. Duane felt a blow a shock—then a burning agony tearing through his breast. He r staggered backward, almost falling, j The woman's strong hands, awkward I from passion, again fumbled at the f lever of the gun. ' He caught the rifle-barrel again, | : this time in his right hand, and pull-1 ed. She tripped over a chair and j crashed down. Duane leaped back, whirled, flew I out of the door to the porch. The j sharp cracking of a gun halted him. | He saw Jennie holding the bridle of his bay horse. Euchre sat astride the other and; he had a Colt leveled, and was fir ing down the lane. Then came a sing le shot, heavier, and Euchre's ceas-1 ed. He fell from the horse. A swiftly shifted gaze showed to Duane a man coming down the lane. Chess Alloway! His gun was smok- ; ing. He broke into a run. Then, in j an instant he saw Duane, tried to j check his pace as he swung up his j arm. But that slight pause was fatal, j Duane shot, and Alloway was fall- j ing when his gun went off. His bul- i let whistled close to Duane and thud-1 i ded into the cabin. Duane bounded down to the hors- 1 I es. Jennie was trying to hold the j plunging bay. Euchre lay flat on his back, dead, a bullet-hole in his shirt, i his face set hard, and his hands twist ed around gun and bridle. "Jennie, you've nerve all right," cried Duane as he dragged down the horse she was holding. "Up with you now. There! Never mind long stir rups! Hang up somehow!" He caught his bridle out of Euch re's clutching grip and leaped astride. The frightened horses jumped into a run and thundered down the lane into the road. Duane saw men run ning from cabins. He heard shouts. But there were no shots fired. Jennie seemed able to stay on her horse; but without stirrups she bounced so hard that Duane rode closer and reached out to grasp her | arm. Thus they rode through the valley to the trail that led up over the steep and broken Rim-Rock. As they began to clomb Duane looked back. No pursuers were in sight. "Jennie, we're going to get away!" he cried, exultation for her in his voice. She was gazing, horror-stricken, at his breast as, in turning to look back, he faced her. "Oh, Duane, your shirt's all bloody!" she faltered, pointing with trembling finger. With her words Duane became ( aware of two things—the hand he in- j stinctively placed to his breast still held his gun—and he had sustained a terrible wound. He had been shot through the breast far enough down to give him grave apprehension of his life. Little , pain attended the injury, and no sense of weakness yet. The clean cut bullet-hole bled freely both at its ; entrance and where it had come, but j with no signs of hemorrhage. He did J not bleed at the mouth; however, he J began to cough up a reddish tinged 1 foam. Jennie, with pale face and mute lips looked at him. "I'm badly hurt, Jennie," he said; ( "but I guess I'll stick it out." "The woman—did she shoot you?" "Yes. She was a devil. Euchre told me to look out for her. I wasn't i quick enough." I "You didn't have to—to " i shivered the girl. "My God, no!" he replied. They did not stop climbing while Duane tore a scarf and made com presses, which he bound tightly over his wounds. The fresh horses made fast time up the rough trail. From open places Duane looked down. When they surmounted the steep ascent and stood on top of the Rim- Rock, with no signs of pursuit down the valley, and with the wild, broken fastnesses before them, Duane turn ed to the girl and assured her that they now had every chance of escape. "Jennie, we're going to get away," he said with gladness. "I'll be well in a few days. You don't know how strong I am. We'll hide by day and travel by night. I can get you across the river." "And then?" she asked. "We'll fird some honest rancher." "And then?" she persisted. "Why—" he began slowly. That's as far as my thoughts ever got. It j was pretty hard, I tell you, to as i sure myself of so much. It means I your safety. You'll tell your story. You'll be sent to some village or town and taken care of until a rel ative or friend is notified." "And you?" she inquired in a strange voice. I Duane kept silence. "What will you do?" she went on. "Jennie, I'll go back to the brakes. I daren't show my face among re spectable people. I'm an outlaw." "You're no criminal!" she declar ed with deep passion. "Jennie, on this border the little difference between an outlaw and a criminal doesn't count for much." "You won't go back among those terrible men? You' with your gentle ness and sweetness —all that's good about you! Oh, Duane, don't don't go!" "I can't go back to the outlaws, at least Bland's band. No, I'll go alone. I'll lone wolf it, as they say on the border. What else can I do, Jennie?" "Oh, I don't know. Couldn't you hide? Couldn't you slip out of Texas —go far away?" "I could never get out of Texas without being arrested. I could hide, but a man must live. Never mind about me, Jennie." "Duane, if ever I'm safe out of this awful country," she cried, "I'll go to the Governor. I'll telh him your story. I'll tell him mine. I'll get you a pardon." , As he looked down upon her, a slight slender girl with bedraggled dress and disheveled hair, her face pale and quiet, a little stern in sleep, -- # r^^fr-g.Fix ur> theHome^S^s^ Our Fifth Anniversary Sale Is Going Big / If you need to save your Money why not come to see us It does not cost you anything to look us over. For example, look at these: Iron Beds $6.98 Big Arm R °ckers $1 98 Cotton Mattress Mahogany Davenport.. jjg gg Chairs Qfic No. 8 Cook Stove €l/1 GC Eagle Line *14.85 These are just a few sample prices. Everything cut according- Sale continues through the 24th of December, but why wait un til the others get the best of it. SPINDALE FURNITURE COMPANY Spindale, N. C. and her long, dark lashes lying on her cheeks, he seemed to see her fragility, her prettiness, her feminin ity as never before. But for him she might at that very moment have been a broken, ruined girl, lying back in that cabin of the Blands. Tomorrow she would be gone, among good kind people, with a pos sibility of finding her relatives. He thanked God for that; nevertheless he felt a pang. She slept more than half the day. Duane kept guard, always alert, whether he was sitting, standing, or walking. The rain pattered steadily on the roof and sometimes came in gusty flurries through the door. The horses were outside in a shed that af forded poor shelter, and they stamp ed restlessly. Duane kept them sad dled and bridled. (Continued next week) SMITH'S GROVE Forest City, R-3, Dec. 10.—There will be preaching next Saturday af ternoon at two o'clock, and Sunday at eleven o'clock. Many people of this community are ill with the "flu" at this writing. We hope they will soon be better again. Mrs. Frank Gregory was the visitor of Mrs. Yelton Sunday. Little Miss Emma Sue Fortenber ry, who has been ill, is some better now. Mr. Roy Hardin, Astor Small and Misses Alma Hardin, and Pauline Crotts were the visitors of Misses Pearl and Mary Elizabeth Crowder I Saturday night. Mr. and Mrs. Forest Fortenberry spent the past week end with her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Lee, near Ellenboro. Misses Geneva and Lunette Newton spent one day last week with Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Allen. Miss Alma Hardin spent this week end with her parents. Mr. Reid Bridges spent Sunday af ternoon with Mr. Shuford Humph ries. Miss Lucy Crowder was the vis itor of Miss Lorena Bridges Sunday. Mr. B. H. Bridges is on the sick list this week. His many friends wish him speedy recovery. Miss Alice Hardin was the visitor of Miss Ruth Crowder Sunday. Mr. Ernest Lee, .of Ellenboro and Mr. Davis, from South Carolina, spent Thursday night at the home of Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Fortenberry. Miss Pearl Crowder spent Sundav afternoon with Miss Mossie Yelton Miss Annie Mae Andrews sperr Sunday afternoon with Miss 9* Watkins. ' ' ah Miss Ruth Louis of Forest Citv spent the week end at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Gregory. Mr. Howard Carter has returns to his home after spending several days in Avondale. Miss Mary Wilson spent Sunday with Miss Lorena Bridges. Mr. Grady Bridges spent Sundav afternoon with Mr. Clifford Fort on. berry. John Sparks of Morganton report* that he harvested 225 tons of cured alfalfa hay from 40 acres this sea son. P-" —"l"* COLUMBIA PICTURES //| presents • DRAMA OR THE SEA W fl * iarrtn * m m RFJACK HOLT , DOROTHY RJEVIER, RALPH CRAVES DIRECTED BY F RANK CAPRA !%gi Thursday and Friday Admission, 10c and 40c Princess Theatre Shelby, N. C.
Forest City Courier (Forest City, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Dec. 13, 1928, edition 1
18
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75