HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1938-10-20, Page 6I
nriursiE'D Jl ll^MI
s.
FIRST INSTALMENT
heThe kid was running away, but
was taking his time about it, and he
enjoyed every foot of his flight,
He was running away from several
things that had begun to harry him,
even at twenty ; his father s enemies
—such as had outlived straight-shoot
ing old Killer Reeves; but he was not
running from the enemies so much as
from the impending necessity of
shooting them. The kid had no am
bition for carrying on the feud and
getting the name of being a killer,
like Pap. He did not want to kill; he
had seen too much of that and it car
ried neither novelty nor the glamour
of adventure. Then, too, he was run
ning away from a girl who had called
him Tiger Eye to his face, The kid
felt a streak of fire shoot up his spine
when he thought of the way she had
pronounced the name men called
him. Always before he had accepted
It just as he would have accepted any
other nickname suggested by some
thing in his character or appearance,
but she had made it a taunt.
He couldn’t change the yellow
stare of his right eye, any more than
he could remember not to squint his
blue left eye nearly shut when he
really meant something. His mother
always told him he got that tiger eye
at a circus she had visited before he
was born. The kid didn't know about
that, but he knew he had it and that
it -was the eye that looked down a
gun barrel, when he practised shoot
ing; the eye that stared back when
somebody tried to give him some of
their lip. They didn’t, very often;
they seemed to expect him to ride
with his right glove off and his gun
. loose in its holster,
ways did.
.But the kid never
any one. That was
why he had left home.
That was nearly six weeks ago.
The kid had pointed his pony’s nose
,.to the north and never once had he
'spread his blankets twice in the same
camp. He’d be in Canada if he didn’t
^stop pretty soon, he thought. He did
‘not want anything of Canada; toqj
cold up there. He’d Stay dbwn in
Montana. Lots pf the boys went up
intb MoftUna with the big trail herds
’"''arid didn’t come back; seemed to like
the country fine.
It was nice country, all right, and
ilie kid decided that he had about
reached the end of his journey. From
where the trail approached the edge
of a high, wide plateau, he had a
splendid view of the country spread
out below him.
He could look right down into
wide mouth of that coulee and
corrals, the squatty stable and
small house backed up against
red sandstone wall. Maybe he could
get a job and stop right there, with
out looking any farther.
The kid swung his slim body ar
ound in the saddle to see if his pack'
horse was coming right along as he
should, and as he did so his buckskin
horse squatted and shied violently
away from something white flutter
ing in the top of a soapweed along
side the road.
the way Pap al-
wanted to shoot
the main reason
the
see
the
the
THE WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES
* .../rir. HTH..I.. i. ... .... mi mu »i.i
Thursday, October 20, 193$
He spurred Pecos toward, the white
flutter, talking to him softly; leaned
over and plucked the paper off the
bush and examined* the thing as he
rode. It seemed to be a crude map
of the country lying down below him,
between the bench and the river.
The kid spread the paper flat on
his saddle horn and got it lined up
with the country. Yes, here was the
place he was coming to, According
to the paper, the ranch W’as owned by
a man named Nate Wheeler and his
brand was the Cross O. He was in
luck. He could ride right up and call
the man by name, just as if he’d
heard all about him. It would make
a difference, all right. Nate Wheeler
wouldn’t think he«was just some fly-
by-night stranger riding through.
He’d probably give him work; he
would if he had any.
A man was riding toward him,
coming out of the wide-armed coulee
to the left—the one which the map
had identified as Nate Wheeler’s
place. The kid saw him the minute
man, when another horseman
galloping down a grassy ridge, no
more than a stone’s throw away, The
kid turned and looked at him along
the *barrel of his gun.
“Yo’all stop where yo’re at,1
commanded
voice, and
throwing up
as he did so,
critically with his peculiar, tigerish
eye, the other squinted half-shut, It
gave him a deadly look in spite of his
boyishness, but he did not know that.
“That’s all right—I’m a friend,
Think' I’d rode out in sight if I was
n’t?” the stranger remarked easily,
“I’m riding for the Poole."
Without moving his gaze, the
tilted his head slightly toward
twisted figure on the ground.
“Yo’all heahd what he said?"
‘^Yeah, I heard him. He had
cornin’, Kid.”
“I aimed to shoot his gun ahm
down. I didn’t aim to kill him.”
“You’d been outa luck, Kid, if you
came
he
in his soft \drawling
the stranged stopped,
both hands laughingly
The kid surveyed him
kid
the
it
"Draw, you coyote! I’m cornin’ a-shootin’l* ho tuIm M M rod*.
-------------—-------------------------------------------» Ml IB . ...1 IL ILL I
came around the bold rock ledgehe
that marked the end of the coulee and
he wondered if this might not be
Nate Wheeler himself. He’d ask him,
anyway, as soon as they met.
The two solitary horsemen rode up
into sight of each other suddenly, fif
ty yards apart and the slope dropping
awly PR either side. The rancher
lils horse tip as if about to
wheei aftti tide back whence he came.
The kid kept straight on. Then the*
rancher did a most amazing thing.
He yanked his gun from its holster,
drove the spurs against his horse and
came lunging straight at the kid.
"Draw, you coyote! I’m cornin’ a-
shootin’!’’ he yelled as he rode.
The kid was caught completely off
guard, but he had been trained in a.
hard school that acepted no excuse
for fumbling. The pow-w of his for
ty-five was not a split second slower
than the other. He felt a vicious jerk
at his hat as his finger tightened ar
ound the trigger of his gun. Then
he was riding forward to where the
man had toppled from his horse. The
little pinto shied away and would
have started running, but the kid
caught it with one sweep of his long
arm that gathered in the trailing
reins.
He was sitting there on his horse/
staring incredulously at the dead
hadn’t. He’d’a’ got you.”
“Plumb crazy,” said the kid. “Corn
in’ at me thataway.”
“Sure was . You from the South?”'
“Brazos,” the kid answered suc
cinctly.
“Yeah. My name’s Garner. Babe
Crarner. How come you’re ridin’ to
Wheeler’s?” . ■ ■'
The kid gave one further look at
Garner, decided that he was all right
and bolstered his gun.
“This place over heah was the clos
est,” he explained. “This Wheelah?"
“Yeah.” Babe Garner looked from
the paper up into the kid’s face. His
own steely eyes were questioning,
impressed. “You sure» as hell don’t
waste any time. Mind.tellin’ me your
name?”
“Bob Reeves.” The kid looked full
at Garner, a defiant expression ar
ound his mouth. “Folks call me Tig
er Eye back home. They gotta be
friends to do it, though."
Babe Garner glanced obliquely at
the heap on the ground, nodded and
looked away, up the road and down.
“Say, you better fog along to my
camp with me," he said uneasily.
“These damn uesters is shore mean.
Let the pinto go. Anybody come
along and catch you here, it’s fare ye
well. What kinda gun you got?”
“Colt forty-five.”
“Good. That won’t tell nothin’ if
the nesters get -snoopy. Come on,
Tiger Eye, I’ll see yuh through this.”
He wheeled his horse, and led the
way back up the hill, and the hid fol
lowed without a word.
The damned, dirty luck of it! Hav
ing to shoot the first man he saw in
the country, the one he was going to
strike for a job! Another thing both
ered him; How had he happened to
miss, like that? He had aimed at
Wheeler’s gun arm, How had he
shot so far wide that the bullet went
through Wheeler’s head?
It never occurred to him that his
father or any one else would disap
prove pf the shooting. That would
be called a case of “have to,” And as
he meditated gravely on the necessity
of defending himself, he remembered
the jerk of his big hat and took it off
to see just what had happened.
There it was—a smudged hole
right in the middle of the crown.
“Damn close,” Babe commented.
“You want to keep your eye peeled
hereafter. These nesters’ll shoot a
man on sight.”
“What fob?”
“ ’Cause they're damn cow thieves
and the Poole has. called the turn,”
Babe 'said savagely. “You heard what
he hollered.”
“Yeah. I heahd."
“That’s the nester’s war whoop,
these days. The Poole has had four
men fanned with bullets in the last
month, We’re needin’ riders that can
shoot. You come in time.” ’
“How many .men has the nestahs
lost?”
Babe hesitated, gave bis head a
shake, laughed one hard chuckle.
“You know of one, anyway,” he
said meaningly.
The kid questioned q.o further but
followed silently in Babe’s lead. Ov
er a lava bed they went, where the
horses must pick' their way carefully
but where they left no track. Down
along the rim of the benchland, past
the head of the coulee marked on the
map as Wheeler’s. Once, the kid
looked down almost upon the roof of
the cabin. A woman came out and
began pulling the clothes off the line,
her back to the bluff. A baby in a
pink dress toddled out on the door
step, sat down violently and began
to squirm backward off the step.
Wheeler’s baby. Only there wasn’t
any Wheeler, any more. Just a heap
of dressed-up bones and meat, back
there in the trail.
What devil’s luck was it that had
made the kid shoot wide, like that?
Use to shoot the pips out of cards
somebody held out for him — sis
would hold cards out for him to
shoot, any time. Never had missed
that-a-way before. The kid could not
understand it. It worried him almost
as much as the killing.
Babe Garner had a snug cabin, not
to. be approached save from one dir
ection, up a bare steep little ridge to
a walled-in basin where two springs
bubbled out from the rock wall and
oozed away through ferns and tall
grass with little blue flowers tilting
on the tops.
When they had eaten, Babe took a
paper-bound novel down off a high
shelf where many more were piled.
He glanced at ,,the kid inquiringly.
“Lots to read if you want it,” he
offered. “Make yourself to home,
Bob.”
“Reckon I’ll take a ride,” the kid
said quietly. “Aim to get the lay of
the land.”
“Oh, sure.” Babe studied the kid
from beneath his lashes. “Want any
help? We’re pardners from now on
Wellington Mutual Fire
Insurance Co.
Established 184Q. ’
Risks taken pn all classes of insur
ance at reasonable rates,
Head Office', Guelph, Ont
ABNER COSENS, Agetft.
Wingham, ‘
T
DR. R. L. STEWART
PHYSICIAN
Telephone 29.
Dr. Robt. G REDMOND
M.R.C.S. (England)
L.RfC.P. (London)
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
DR. W. M. CONNELL
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Phone 10.
W. A. CRAWFORD, M.D.
Physician and Surgeon
Located at the office of the „ late
Dr. J. P. Kennedy.
Phone 150. Wingham
—Tiger Eye.”
“Don’t need he’p right now,
thanks,” said the kid. “Yo’all lay still
and read yoah'book, Babe. I’ll come
back.”
“Give this signal when you come
up the trail, Tiger (Eye,” he directed,
and whistled, a strain like the cry of
some night bird. “Us Poole boys hail
each other that way at night. Safer.
You hear that call, you~know it’s a
friend.”
“Thanks,” said the kid, and repeat
ed the signal accurately. “Shoah will
remember it, Babe.”
Babe went back to his bed and his
book, but though he stared at the op
en page he did not.read.a line for five
minutes. He was wondering about
the kid.
The kid was wondering too, but
not about Babe.’ He was wondering
who would do' Nate Wheeler’s chor
es, and he was wondering Who would
take in the body and who would bury
Wheeler. 'He kept woridering who
•would te.ll that woman down there in
the coulee that her husband'Was dead,
and who would meet* that baby when
it toddled out in its little pink dress,
and give it a ride on a horse..
• The kid did not ride back the way
Babe had brought him. He circled
around another way, and so came in
to the trail from the north instead
of the south. He hoped the body of
Wheeler had been discovered before
now, but it had not.
Dr. W. A. McKibbon, B.A.
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Located at the Office of the Late
Dr, H. W. Colbome.
Office Phone 54.Nights 107
------------------------------------------------------------------
J. W. BUSHFIELD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc,
. Money to Loan.
Office — Meyer Block, Wingham
/
J. H. CRAWFORD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Successor to R. Vanstone.
Wingham Ontario
R. S. HETHERINGTON
BARRISTER and SOLICITOR
Office — Morton Block.
Telephone No. 66.
F. A. PARKER
OSTEOPATH
All Diseases Treated.
Office adjoining residence next to
Anglican Church on Centre St
Sunday by appointment.
Osteopathy . Electricity
Phone 272. Hours, 9 a.m. to 8 p.m.
A woman’s face at the window
peered out. at him. The kid felt that
hot streak of shyness shoot up his
spine as her steps came toward the
door. But the chill of the message
he carried steadied him as the door
pulled open three inches—no
and her thin, worried face
there in the crack.
“Evenin', Ma’am. Theah's
more-
showed
a man
layin’ back up there a piece in the
road. I—is yoah husband—home?”
“No, Nate’s gone.” She opened the
door another three inches and look
ed at him unafraid. ’“He ought to be
back any time now. Is it—is the
man—’’
“Dead, I reckon.”
“Oh!—Is he—do you know who it
it?”
“No’m, nevah did see him befoah.
A—he was ridin’ a black
hawse."
“Nate! They’ve got Nate! They
said .they would—they nailed a
ing on the gate—they’ve killed him!
Where is he? Is it far? I’ll go with
you. The murdering devils! How far
is
pinto
it?" . ’
(Continued Next Week)
warn-
HARRY FRYFOGLE
Licensed Embalmer and
Funeral Director
Furniture and
Funeral Service
Ambulance Service.
Phones: Day 109W. Night 169J.
THOMAS FELLS
AUCTIONEER
REAL ESTATE SOLD
A Thorough Knowledge of Farm
Stock.
Phone 231, Wingham.
lt WiH Pay Yop to Have An
EXPERT AUCTIONEER
to conduct your sale.
See
T. R. BENNETT
At The Royal Service Station.
Phone 174W.
J. ALVIN FOX
Licensed Drugless Practitioner
CHIROPRACTIC - DRUGLESS
THERAPY - RADIONIC
EQUIPMENT
Hours by Appointment
Phone 191. Wingham
A. R. & F. E. DUVAL
CHIROPRACTORS
CHIROPRACTIC and
ELECTRO THERAPY
North Street — Wingham
Telephone 300.
cups sugar
‘I
j
s.
.?
eggs
114
2 egg yolks
.2
2¥z cups cake flour, sifted
1 teaspoon baking powder
¥2 teaspoon soda
¥2 teaspoon salt
% cup pineapple syrup
drained from one 14 oz.
can Hawaiian pineapple gems
¥2 teaspoon vanilla
Cream butter, add sugar gradually,,
cream until light and fluffy. Add egg
yolks and eggs, one or two at a time.
Beat after each addition and until-
mixture is fluffy. Add sifted dry in
gredients alternately with pineapple
syrup and vanilla. Spread on greased
sheet cake pans 1-inch deep or place
in paper baking cups. Bake ina mod
erate oven (350 F.) twenty to twen
ty-five minutes. When cool ice with
“Cream Cheese Frosting” and decor
ate with canned Hawaiian pineapple
gems.
This amount will make 25-30 cup
cakes 2% x 114 inches or the same
number in squares 2x2x1 inch.
Cream Cheese Frosting
3-oz. package cream cheese
tablespoons butter
to 3% cups Confectioner’s
sugar
2 tablespoons,pineapple syrup
drained from gems
2 teaspoons lemon juice
if desired
Hawaiian pineapple gems
from one 14 oz. can.
Cream cheese and butter thorough
ly; beat in remaining ingredients.
Continue beating until light and
fluffy. Spread on cake squares or cup
cakes leaving an irregular surface.
Decorate the cakes with drained
Hawaiian pineapple gems.
1
2
3
«
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO CONFERS DEGREE ON DIST INGUISHED MEN AND WOMEN -
Golden Crown Cake
' % cup butter
OCTOBER TEA PARTIES
golden book at the convocation core-Wearing their newly acquired [Convocation hall, University of Tor- dent H. J. Cody presented her to Sir orary -
robes, Miss Jean Gunn and Lady onto, with Sir William Mulock and William for the conferring of an hon- RIGHT, inscribed her name in the monies.
Tweedsmuir, LEFT, pause outside the governor-general. After Presi
degree, Lady Tweedsmttir,
By Betty Barclay
Golden Crown Cake has been cre
ated especially for October tea part
ies. A delicate and delicious cake
batter, topped with cream cheesb
frosting . and Hawaiian pineapple
gems, rectangular wedges cut from
the golden heart of the pineapple of
fers a new taste thrill for fall festiv
ities.
If