lit Jflrattklht tyxtss Published every Thursday by The Franklin Press At Franklin, North Carolina Telephone No. 24 VOL. XLVI BLACKBURN W. JOHNSON Entered at the Post Office, Franklin, N. C, as second class matter. SUBSCRIPTION RATES One year Eight Months Six Months Single Copy Obituary notices, cards of thanks, tributes of respect, by individuals, lodges, churches, organizations or societies, will be regarded as adver tising and inserted at regular classified advertising rates. Such notices will be marked "adv." in compliance with the postal regulations. The Press invite it readers to express their opinions through its columns and each week it plans to carry Letters to the Editor on its editorial page. This newspaper is independent in its policies and is glad to print both sides of any question. Letters to the Edi tor should be written legibly on only one side of the paper and should be of reasonable length. Of course, the editor reserves the right to reject letters which are too long or violate one's better sensibilities. Weekly Bible Let us hold fast to the profession Hebrews 10:23. Don't Gamble in Stocks By J. E. Jones (Washington Correspondent National Industries News Service) AT THE end of the last calen dar week in Junr it was com puted that no less than seven bil lion dollars had been added to t In security wealth of the American people in seven days following .President Hoover's debt offering. The fact that the President had raised the hopes of the world with a magnificent plan is a story apart from this seven billion dollars of fictitious "security wealth." The stock market had "gone tip" againfortunately in the right di rection. , Better times had come to Wall Street and seven billion dollars of gambler's gold was list ed on the books under the heading of "security wealth." The Weekly Business Index of the New York Times, on the same day that Wall Street added up its seven billions profits, showed that the business actibity of the nation had dropped to a new low record in the same period. One of the causes for this new dip was the further d( -predion during the week in the steel and motor industries. In spite of this U. S. Steel com mon rose xi points and General Motors 3li points which shows the difference between poor busi ness in the sales manager's office and the tale of the ticker. American Telephone and Tele graph is considered a tycoon of "the stock market, but it was battered down to $156.50 a share a few weeks ago, and the memory of man that runs back to the days priwr to black October, 1929 recalls that it was over $300 a share. Div idends, nine dollars a share. These arc all good . stocks, but none of them looked good to in- wuvu mem wneii l ic I .1 ...i At., in 1929. As T. Number Z EDITOR AND PUBLISHER $1-50 $100 ' -75 05 Thought of our faith, without wavering. says radio common "is going to a thousand dollars a share," as he is to believe the pessimistic custom er's man who works in the same broker's office, and warns you that "radio' common isn't any good it never paid a dividend." About the only qualifications most of these customer's men have is that they are chosen for their good looks and their glib tongues. President Hoover's debt offer was mttde to improve the economic con dition of the world, but the im mediate reaction was a dramatic rise in stocks. Gamblers' gold be gan to pour into Wall Street. The one person in fifty (if that is not an over-estimate) who knows something about Wall Street meth ods is apt to be guided in his judg ment by the actual activity in the steel industry; by the available records concerning automobile pro duction and sales; by statistics of freight car. loadings and events in railway, steamship and motor trans porfation. If these are all down, and if copper, silver, cotton, wheat, livestock, employment, land and real estate, rents, merchant sales, wholesale prices, and the majority of our industries and trades arc still struggling to crawl out of their gloomy cellars, then there is no sane reason for getting excited about buying stocks particularly on speculation. When the Public Goes Crazy President Hoover said nothing about stocks. But almost imme diately the stock market began to climb. History shows us that the public has gone crazy over stock speculation about every seven years. After awhile there will be the 6, 7, 8 and even the 10 million share days. These great days are on the way, and following them newspapers will carry the re any times seven billion 'Investment wealth view it as :hing of O J 1 ,a'S " S t '.. II TV 4X - (Continued from last week) One thing rankled deep, Yancey had been urged to accept the of fice of territorial delegate to con gress (without vote) and had re fused. All sorts of territorial po litical positions were held out to him. The city of Guthrie, capital of the territory, wooed him in vain. He laughed at political po sition, rejected all offers of public nature. Now he was being offered the position of governor of the territory. His oratory, his dramatic quality, his., record in many affairs, including the Pegler murder and the shootng of the Kid, had spread his fame even beyond the South west. "Oh, Yancey!" Sabra thought of the Venables, 4he Marcys, the Vians, the Goforths. At last her choice of a mate was to be vindi cated. Governor. But Yancey shook his great head. There was no moving him.. He would go on the stump to make others congressmen and governors, but he himself wuldiKt take of fice. "Palavering to a lot of greasy office seekers and panhandlers! Dancing to the tune of that gang in Washington! I know the whole dirty lot of them." Restless., Moody. Irritable. Rid ing out into the prairies to be gone for days. Coming back to regale Cim with stories of evenings spent on this or that far off reservation, smoking and talking with Chief Big Horse of the Cherokees,. with Chief Buffalo Hide of the Chicka saws, with old Black Kettle of the Osages. . ' . ' But he was not always like this There were times when his old fiery spirit took possession. He entered the fight, for the statehood of Oklahoma territory, and here he encountered opposition enough even for him. He was for the consolida tion of the Oklahoma territory and the Indian territory under single statehood. The thousands who were opposed to the Indians who looked upn them as savages totally unfit for citizenship fought him. A year after t! eir coming to Okla homa the land had been divided into two territories one owned and occupied by the Indian tribes, the other owned by the whites. Here the Cravats hve(L on the bor der line. And here was . Yancey, fighting week after wipek, in the editorial and news columns of the Oklahoma Wigwam, fo the rights of the Indians; for the consolida tion of the two halye's as Vne state Vet, unreasonably' enough, he sym pathized with fthe' Five Civilized Tribes in their efforts to retain their tribal lafvys in place of the ited State! court laws which Deinj .forced upon them, lie thousand bitter enemies. the Indians themselves him. These were hood for the In- n "7 I EdnctFcrbor Illustration bi dian territory, the state to be known as Sequoyah, after the great Cherokee leader of that name. Sabra, who at first had paid lit tle heed to these political problems, discovered that she must know something of them as - protection against those--' times (increasingly frequent) when Yancey was absent and she must get out the paper with only the uncertain aid of Jesse Rickey. Sabra came home one atternoon from a successful and stirring meeting of the Twentieth Century Philomathean Culture club (the two had now formed a pleasing whole) at which she had read a paper entitled, "Whither Oklahoma?" . It had been received with much ap plause on the part of Osage's twenty most exclusive ladeis, who had heard scarcely a word of it, their minds being intent on Sabra s new dress. She had worn it for the first time at the club mectnig, and it was a bombshell far exceed ing any tumult that her paper might create. Her wealthy Cousin Bella French Vian, visiting the World's fair in Chicago, had sent it. It consisted of a blue scrge.skirt, cut wide andj flaring at the hem but snug at the hips; a waist-length blue serge Eton jacket trimmed with black soutache braid; and a garment call ed a shirtwaist to be worn be neath the jacket. But astonishing revolutionary as all this was, it was not the thing that caused the eyes of feminine Osage to bulge with envy and despair. The sleeves ! The sleeves riveted the attention of those present, to -the utter neg lect of "Whither Oklahoma?" The balloon sleeve now appeared for the first time in the Oklahoma territory, sponsored by Mrs. Yan cey Cravat. They were bouffant, enormous; a yard of material at least had gone into each of them. Every woman present was, in her mind, tearing to rag strips, bit by bit, every gown in her own scanty wardrobe. Sabra returned home, flushed, elated. She entered by way of the newspaper office, seeking Yancey's approval. Curtseying and dimpling she stood before him. She wanted him to see the new costume before slip must thriftily take it off for the preparation, of supper. Yan cey's comment, as she pirouetted for his approval, infuriated her. "Good G d ! Sleeves Let the squaws see those and they'll be throwing away their papoose boards and using the new fashion for car rying their babies, one in each sleeve." "They're .the very latest thing in Chicago. Cousin Bella French Vian wrote that they'll be even fuller than this, by autumn." ' "By autumn," echoed Yancey. He held in his hand a slip of paper. Later she knew that it was a tele gramone of the-1" few telegraphic u .. . Ground the World COBB ed labor Vsitting Vthey a , t r somewhat sketchy service received. "Listen, sugar, President Cleve land's just issued a proclamation setting September sixteenth for the opening of the Cherokee strip." "Cherokee strip?" "Six million, three hundred thous and acres of Oklahoma land to be opened for white settlement. The government has bought iffrom the Chexokces. It was all to be theirs all Oklahoma. Now they's push ing them farther and farther out." "Good thing," snapped Sabra, still cross about the matter of Yancey's indifference to her costume. In dians. Who cared! She raised her arms to unpin her hat.,' Yancey rose from his desk. He turned his rare full gaze on " her, his handsome eyes aglow. "Honey, let's get out of this. Clubs, sleeves, church suppers Cd ! Lcf s get our hundred and sixty acre allot ment of Cherokee strip land and start a ranch raise cattle live in the open ride-this town life is no good it s hideous. Her arms fell, leaden, to her side. "Ranch? Where?" "You're not listening. , There's to be a new Run. The Cherokee strip opening. You know. Let's go, babra. Its the biggest thing1 yet. The 1889 Run was nothing com pared to it. Sell the Wigwam, take , the children, make the Run, get our hundred and sixty, start a ranch, stock up with cattle and horses, build a ranch house and patio;. in the saddle all day" "Never!" screamed Sabra. Her face was distorted. Her hands were clutching the "air, as though she Would tear ;to bits this plan oi. h'a for the future "I won't. I won't go. I'd rather die first. Youll never make me go. Til stay here with my children and run the paper. Mother! Cim! Donna!" She had a rare and violent fit of hysterics, after which Yancey di vested her of the new finery, quiet ed the now screaming children, and finally restored to a semblance "of supper-time order the household into which he . had hurled such a bomb. Felice Venablc herself, in her heyday, could not have given a finer exhibition of Marcy tern perament. Yancey was properly solicitous, tender, charming as only he could be. From the shelter of her husband's arms Sabra look ed about the .cozy room, smiled wanly upon her children. "That," she thought to herself, bathing her eyes, smoothing her hair, and com ing pale and wistful to the tabic, her lip quivering with sr final ef fective sigh, "settles that." But it did not... September ac tually saw Yancey making ready to go. Nothing that Sabra could say, nothing that she could do, served to stop him. She even negotiated for a little strip of farm land out side of 'the town of Osage and man aged to get Yancey to make payment ' on it, in -the hope that this would keep him from the Run "If it's land you want you can stay here and farm the piece at Tuska mingo. You can raise cattle on it. You can breed horses on it.' Yancey shook his head. He took no interest in the farm. Septem ber, the month of 4he opening of the vast Cherokee strip, saw him well on his way. Cim howled to be taken along, and would not be. consoled for- days, Sabra's iarewell was intended to be cold. Her heart, she told her self, was breaking". .The change that these list four yearrhad made in her never was more apparent than now, "You felt the same way when I went off to the first Run," Yancey reminded her. "Remember? -You carried on just one degree less than your mother. And if I hadn't gone you'd still be living in the house in Wichita, with your family smoth ermg you in Southern fried chick en and advice." There was much truth in this, she had to admit She melted; clung to him. "Yancey! Yancey!" "Smile, sugar. Wait till you see Ctm and Donna, five years from now, riding the Cravat acres." After all, a hundred other men in I Osage were going to make the Cherokee Strip Run. The town the whole territory had talked of nothing else for months. She dried her : eyes. She even managed a watery smile. He was making the Run on a brillaint, wild-eyed mare named Cimarron, with a strain of Spanish in her for speed and grace, and a strain of American mustang for endurance. The start was made Shortly after sunrise so as to make progress be the heat of the day. But a alcade awoke them before dawn .h a rat-a tat-tat of six-shooters a blood-curdling series of y yips, the escort rode with and the others for a dis t on the plains. Sabra. at minute, had the family td to the buggy, bundled mna in with Jier.vand ig on behind some in little vehicle burnt) J its way over the ? the wake of the turers. wa threw the reins jrom the bpggy, pulled up his ar over in his in one great mcssata-s wiucn tne wigwams jore Yv N ,5U3T nu;.mr:.i I Vj i ' V, -ft F 7 $ J , . r 1 ft I W 1. tm ml XM . i I ,v I : J I i Got Insomnia, Officer." "Well, You Co Home an' Sleep It QSfr arm, held her close while he kissed Her long and hard. "Sabra, come with me. Let's get clear away from this." You've gone crazy! The chil dren!" ' "The children, top. All of us. Come on. Now." His eyes were blazing. She saw that he actually meant it. A sudden premonition shook her. . "Where are you going? Where are you going?" He set her down gently and was off, turned halfway in his saddle to fade her, hir white sombrero held aloft in his hand,, his curling black locks tossing in .the Okla homa breeze. Five years passed before she saw him again. CHAPTER VIII - Dixie Lee's girls were riding bv on their daily afternoon parade. Sabra glanced up as they drove by. She was seated at her desk by the window in the front office of the Oklahoma Wigwam. Her face darkened now as she saw them drivine slowlv bv. Dixie Lee never drove with them. .Sabra knew where she was this after noon. She was down in the back room of the Osage First National bank talking business to the presi dent, Murch Rankin. The business men of the town were negotiating for the bringing of the packing house and a plow works and a watch factory to Osage. Any one' of these .industries required a sub stantial bonus. The spirit of the day was the boom spirit. Boom the town of Osage. Dixie Lee was essentially a commercial woman- shrewd, clear headed. . She had made a great success of her busi ness. She was a personage in the town. Visitors came to her house now from the cities and Counties round about. -She had built for herself and her thriving business the iirst brick structure in the wooden town; a square, solid, and imposing two-story house, its bricks formed from the native Ok lahoma red clay. The house had been opened with a celebration the like of which" had never been seen in the Southwest. Sabra Cravat, mentioning no names, had had an editorial about it in which the phrases "insult to the fair wo manhood of America" and "orgy rivaling the Bacchanalian revels of history" (Yancey's . library stood ucr iu goou sieao tnese days; figured prominently. It was this red' brick brothel less sinister than these good and innocent women suspected. Dixie Lee, now a woman of thirtv or more, ruled it with an iron hand. Within it obtained certain laws and rules of conduct-so ricrid as to be almost prim. , It was, in a way, a club, a rendezvous, a salon. For hundreds "of men who tame there it was all thev had ver known of richness, of color, of luxury. Here they . lolled, sunk deeo inrosv comfort, while thev talked territory politics, swapped yarns oi me oia cattle oays, play ed cards, drank. wines which tasted like sweet prickling, water to their whisky-scarred palates. " They kiss ed these women, thought tenderly of many of them, and frequently married them ; and these women, once married, settled down" con tentedly to an almost slavish do mesticity... - ;" A hard woman, Dixie Lee; a bad woman. Sabra was morally 'right in her attitude toward her. Yet this woman, as well as Sabra, filled her place-in the early Jife of the territory. The Oklahoma Wigwam had flourished in these last five years of Sabra's proprietorship. - She . was thinking seriously of making it a daily instead of a weekly; of. using v v .' ? I the entire building "on Pawhuska avenue . for - the newspaper ; plant and building a proper house for herself and the two children on one of the residence streets newly sprung up streets that boasted neatly painted houses and elm and Cottonwood trees in the front yards. Someone came up the -steps of the little porch and into the office. It was Mfs. Wyatt. "Weill" she exclaimed, simply, but managing to nut-ennrmnnti hit and sitmifiranrA - into the mono-syllable. Her glance followed Sabra's. Together the two women, tight lipped, condemnatory, watched the gay parade of Dixie Lee's girls go by. The flashing company disappear- ed. A whiff of patchouli floated back to the two women standing by the open window, their nostrils lifted in disdain. The sound of the horses' hoofs grew fainter. " ' "It's a disgrace to the commun ity" Mrs? Wyatt's voice took on its platform note "and an insult to every 'wife and mother in-the territory. -There ought- to be a law." t ' Sabra turned away from 4he win dow. Her eyes sought the orderly , row? of books, bound neatly in tan and red Yancey V law boolts, so long unused now, except, perhaps, for o casional newspaper reference.. Her I ice set itself in lines pf re solve. "Perhaps there 'is."- A m n like Yancey Cravat spec tacular, dramatic, impulsive has a thousand critics, scores of bitter enemies. As the weeks had gone by and Yancey failed to return had failed to write rumor, clouded by scandal, leaped like prairie fire from house to houes in Osage., from town to town in the Okla homa country, over the Southwest indeed. All the old stories were revived, and their ugly red tongue licked a sordid path through the newly opened land. They say he is living with 'the Cherokee squaw who is really his wife. They say' he was seen making the Run in the Kickapoo land opening in-1895. They say he killed a man in the Cherokee Strip Run and was cauehL by a posse and hung. They say he got a section of land, sold it at a high figure, and was seen lording it around the bar of the " Brown Palace hotel in Denver, in his white sombrero and! his Prince Albert coat. - They say Dixie Lee is his real wife, and he left her when she was seventeen, came to Wichita,." and married Sabra Venable; and" he 'is the one who has set Dixie: up in the brick houses They $Xy he-drank five quarts of -whisky one night 'and died andi is buried in an unmarked- grave in Horseshoe ranch, where the Doolira gang held forth. . - , They say he is really the leader of the Doolin gang. They say. lheysay. They say. c 14 is impossible to know how Sabra survived those first terrible weeks that lengthened nito months that lengthened into years. There was in her the wiry4 .endurance f the French Marcys; the pride of the southern Venables. She told herself that Yancey was dead. She told the world that he-was dead. She ;knew, by some deep and un errinll!,stinct. that he was alive. . f '(.Continued next week) ' BpfrmTfaI. went to a fellow yesteltay who by feeling the bumpon my headjold me what kind of V man I was. Solasido-Yeah? Well, I can tell by feeling the bumps on your head jum wnai Kind, of a woman your wife is. PATHFINDER, "

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