HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1938-12-08, Page 64 THE WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thurs,, December 8th, 1938:
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SYNOPSIS
The Kid’s; name was Bob Reeves,
but Back home on the Brazos they
called him Tiger Eye, because one
eye was yellow—the eye with which
he sighted down a gun-barrel, His
father was “Killer” Reeves, but the
boy did not want to kill. If he stay
ed home he would have to carry on
his father’s fueds, so he headed his
horse, Pecos, northward and encount
ered. Nate Wheeler, who drew his ,45
and fired just as Tiger Eye did. The
Kid didn’t want to kill Nate, only to
cripple him, but his aim must have
been wild, for Wheeler dropped from
his horse. Babe Garner came riding
up. Wheeler was a “nester,” he said,
and had it coming to him, Tiger Eye
rode to Wheeler's cabin to notify the
dead man’s widow.
The Kid breaks the news of Nate’s
death to his widow and then goes out^
and brings in his body, discovering *
he had not missed his shot to disable ,
‘Wheeler but had broken his arm,
while another shot had killed the
man. A gang
One of them
by coupling
stranger. The
each of the ears of Pete Gorham, who
hurled the insult, making his escape
in the confusion. He lays in wait for
the party and finally sees the men
drive off with Wheeler's widow and
child. He trails them silently.
’***'’ learning that th “pesters” plan to
draw the Poole riders into a trap,
the kid informs Garner, telling him
at the same time he had learned it
■was the latter’s shot that killed
Wheeler and not his own. Garner is
grateful and gets the boy a job riding
range for the Poole outfit. The Kid
secs a lone rider attack a man and
a girl driving in a wagon and wounds
the assailant, and then finds out he
is Wheelen
After rescuing the girl’s dad, the
Kid is given a grateful warning by
the girl, who thinks he is one of the
Texas killers, to get out of the val
ley before the nesters shoot him.
The boy is touched by Nellie's con
cern and lets his mind dwell on her,
realizing she must have liked him
personaly to warn him when he was
supposed to be one of the imported
gunmen. Later he tells Garner he
wounded a nester who tried to am-
ambush him. He meets Jess Market,
a Texan who is boss of the Poole
wagon crew.
That night the Kid shoots Market.
through both hands when the latter j Eye.
attempts to kill him for being the son chance.'
of Killer Reeves. The rest of the
gang approves of the Kid’s action. Poole ridah taken, going down to kill
While near Nellie’s home he hears ole Pappy Murray.”
of .strangers rides up.
insults Mrs. Wheeler
her name with the
Kid shoots a hole in
the crack of a rifle and finds her dad
has been shot from ambush and helps
carry the dead man into his house.
One leaving the nester's cabin the
Kid examines the slayer's tracks and
finds a match, broken like the ones
Babe discards. He returns home and
Babe sees he thinks he is the one
who killed the old man.’Just then the
foreman arrives and eats with them,
preventing a show-down for a time.
As the foreman finishes his coffee he
breaks a match in the same way Babe
does. The Kid blushes and looks for
givingly at Babe.
♦ * *
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
“That feller that shot old Murray
down in the valley; yuh say he left
broken match stubs where he waited,
Tiger Eye? Can't go much by that,
Lots of fellers in a grass country
break their match stubs in two be
fore they throw ’em away, Less dan
ger of fire.”
With his big gray hat far back on
his head and His high-heeled boots
hooked over the edge of the neatly
brushed stove hearth.
“Yo’all plumb shoah ole Pappy
Murray was a cow thief, Babe?”
“Shore he was! Why, hell, I told
yuh a thousand times, Tiger Eye,
there ain’t an honest man in the hull
valley. Not a one. Say, bow’d you
i
“How’d yuh know it was a Poole
rider? You didn’t see 'im, did yuh?’’
"No, sub, 1 nevah did see him.”
'“How’d you know it was a Poole
rider, then?”
Babe flung down his book and sat
up, eyeing the kid sharply while he.
pulled tobacco and papers from his
pocket. "Nesters ain’t above dry-
gulchin’ each .other if they’ve got a
grudge, and layin’ it to the Poole.”
"Ncstah wouldn’t hit out fph the
Bench aftah he done his killing.”
"Which way’d he go when he hit
the rim?”
“Kain’t say Babe. Plumb rocky
along the rim.
Babe studied the kid for another
ten seconds and gave a grunt that
seemed to release a tension within his
mind.
"You come into camp here, actin’
like you thought I done it,” he stated
calmly, lighting a match with his
thumb-nail and deliberately breaking
the stub in two while the kid watch
ed him with an unblinking steadiness
in the stare of his yellow right eye.
"Nevah said I thought it, Babe.”
"You looked it, when yuh come to
camp.”
“Kain’t tell a thing by my looks,
Babe, This yellah eye -of mine is
plumb deceiving, some times.”
"What gets me, Tiger Eye, is how
come to know he was shot, if you
was^off over on the river side of the
Bench where I sent yuh?"
“Nevah did ride awn to the river,
Babe. Got right curious about some
thing in the valley, so 1 taken a jog
down off the Bench to see foh m’-
se’f.”
"Poole riders’ll be shot on sight
down there. I told yuh that, Tiger
You was takin’ too big a
11
"No biggah chance than some otha
,»
you
you
the
was
mine,
good-
ESKIMOS USE WHALEBONE TIMBERS
Fathcr R. Hubbard, Santa CUtUnot know what an igloo looks like.
Jesuit, points to whale-1 Father Hubbard has repeatedly led
'bone as timber to support sod ? expeditions into the uncharted north
en match. Now, he didn't believe it
—but he couldn’t put it out of his
mind either, and the vague distrust
hurt like physical pain.
“Yuh don’t want to let old lady
Murray’s cryin’ worry yuh, Tiger
Eye," Babe said abruptly, when they
were pulling off their boots. “Best
not to waste sympathy on a nester.
They don’t deserve no sympathy;
man or woman, they’re all tarred with
the same stick. You're going to be
| valuable to the Poole, once you git
oyer that sympathy of yourn for nes
ter women. You got to cut that out
or yuh won’t never git nowhere."
The kid did not answer that, and
presently Babe’s breath fell into the
slow rhythm of sleep.
The kid’s mind jarred back from
deep dreaming and he opened one eye
to see a yellow streak of sunlight on
the cabin wall, high in a far corner
behind the stove. By that he knew
he had slept late. Usually they were
ready to ride out along the rim when
the sun showed above the mountains.
Babe’s side of the bed was empty,
but there was no breakfast smell in
the cabin and no crackling of fire in
the stove. Gone to look after the
horses, probably. Babe must have
slept late himself. Must have been
Babe shutting the door that woke
him.
The kid swung his feet to the floor
and reached for his clothes,
would expect breakfast to be
when he came back.
The kid started a fire in the
set a kettle of water over the blaze,
and washed his face and neck and
ears in the tin basin on the bench.
He shoved another stick of wood in
to the stove, picked up the basin and
pulled the door open to fling the wat
er out upon the ground.
The basin jerked spitefully in his
hand, a round hole cut through its
upper side where the water spurted
through. From a clump of bushes ov
er by the corral the bark of a rifle
tardily followed the bullet. The kid
let g'o the wash basin and droppedxto
his knees, then fell forward on his
face and lay there with his arms
stretched out in front of him.
The kid’s fingers stretched slowly
to their slender length, relaxed a lit
tle, stretched again, moved this way
and that, until they encountered
something that they clasped so firm
ly the knuckles turned white. Babe’s
foot, Babe, lying there oh his face,
within a few feet of the door, shot
dciwn while the kid lay dreaming. It
wasn’t the shutting of the door—it
was the rifle shot that woke the kid.
Babe, shot in front of his door, just
as Nellie’s old pappy had been shot.
Even at that moment, while the kid
was taking a firmer grip of that limp
foot, he wondered if Babe was only
.getting back what he gave old
ray.
The kid squirmed backward,
ging Babe by his foot. Slow,
an inch or two, and wait a minute.
Babe groaned at the third pull, and
the kid’s heart gave a flop and then
raced for joy. Babe was alive yet.
Something to pull for, now.
“I’m draggin’ yo’all inside the doah,
Babe,” he muttered, in a tone that
would not carry beyond the woodpile.
Babe did not answer except with
another groan, but he pressed one
hand hard on the ground and pushed
backward when ;thc kid pulled again,
so the kid knew Babe heard and un
derstood all right. The kid hurried
after that. He wanted his body all
inside the door as soon as possible,
and with a last wriggle his tousled
damp hair went in past the door
jamb. Like a cat he was on his feet
then and had Babe inside with one
great yank and slammed the door
shut.
Then he turned, picked Babe up in
his arms and laid him on the bed.
"Damn, coyotes •— got me when I
Stepped outside,” Babe gasped.
“Thats what a killah always aims
to’ do,” the kid observed dryly. “Al
ways aims to down a man at his own
doah."
Whether Babe caught the signifi
cance of that, remark or not, he made
no answer to it.
The kettle was boiling on the stove
and the kid brought basin and clean
dish towels and a bottle of carbolic
acid and set them on a box beside
the bunk. He pulled off Babe’s shirt
and studied the round, purplish hole
on Babe’s right side just under the
s curve of his ribs.
Babe fainted, which left the kid
free and unhampered in his crude
; surgery.
> “I taken out the bullet, Babe,” he
; said calmly, when Babe came back to
; consciousness. “Wasn’t moah’n two
d—“three inches deep. Kain’t figure it,
. t lessen it come from ovah across the
field. Nevah did come from the berry
bushes, or it’s gone awn through.
Two mett out theah, I reckon.”
“Two, yuh say?”
“Two and likely moah.”
“And me down I They'll git
shots carefully spaced
Babe
ready
stove,
Mur-
drag-
Back
'bone u<cd as timber to support sod
Walls of art Eskimo house in Arctic ■; and is credited with the discovery of
Alaska, Contrary to popular belief/many geological formations* indud-
the famed glacier priest says
iftust Bskinw in northern .Alaska doj;
ittg previously unknown volcanoes.
come to take it to heart the way
do. Ain’t a bigger cow thief'in
country than old (Murray. He
bound to get his, sooner or later.
’Nless he was a p’ticular fri'end of
yorun—”
"Nevah was no friend of
Babe.”
“Well—'they say he’s got a
looking girl. You seen her?”
"Wasn’t no girl theah, Babe, when
I rode along to the house. Heard a
woman screaming and a-crying like
my mammy cried when Pap was
bushwhacked. Killahs don't think of
the women, 'pears like.”
“And as far as the women are con
cerned—” Babe rose from the bunk,
hitching up his trousers belt as he.
satiated over to the water bucket and
lifted the dipper with a jangle of tin.
“They got to take their chance same
as the men. There’s always women
cryin’ over some man. There always
will be, as long as there’s a man to
cry over, What yuh goin’ to do about
it? A man can’t set and roll his
thumbs all his life, just so his woman
won’t have cause for tears. They
bawl a lot—but they git over it.”
“Reckon yo’re right, Babe.”
“Darn right, I'm right. You’ve been
so growed up and steady, far as I’ve
seen, 1 shore never expected you’d git
chicken-hearted over a nester all at
once/
“If every killah was fixed so he
couldn’t shoot a gun, theah wouldn’t
be no moafi killing, Babe,”
"I'd rather be dead than have my
hands smashed the way you smashed
Jess Markel’s. So would any man
that was a man ”
“I said killahs, Babe.”
Babe shivered as if a edd wind had
struck his bare flesh, but he didn't
say again that he would rather be
dead than crippled. The kid knew he
thought it, though. The kid's eye
brows came together in a puzzled
frown while he studied Babe nt the
window, peering out into the faint
moonlight.
The kid had counted on Babe’s
friendship and on his being square so
a iellow' could trust him. But if Babe
had waited like a coyote among the
rocks and had shot Nellie’s old pappy
In the back, he was just a mean, low-
down killer and nobody could trust
him. A man like that would shoot his
best friend in the back if he took the
notion.
The kid would have to be mighty#
certain It was Babe, though, before I ----- -------
he would believe it. He'd want morel Tiger Eye.”
proof than that broken match had! ‘Tn a pig’s eye.”
been. It made him shiver to think | my rifle and—help me on
how close he had come to shooting peel.’*
today, Babe.” The kid was loading
Babe’s rifle, and now he placed it on
the table.
He turned his rifle upon the
clump of bushes over by the corral.
Three
brought a spiteful volley in reply.
“ ’Peaks like the nestahs are aim
in’ to take theah revenge foh ole Pap
py Murray," he remarked, as a steady
stream of bullets came spatting vic
iously into the cabin. It worried
Babe, who was beginning to talk fev
erishly,
"Shoot to kill when yuh start in,”
Babe urged. "Ain’t goin’ to try bust
in’ knuckles now, I hope.”
“Kain’t see any knuckles to bust,
Babe,”
The kid's face clouded as he push
ed his rifle barrel through the hole
between two logs, but his yellow
right eye was unblinking as a tiger’s
when it looked down along the
sights, He caught a glimpse of gray
hat crown among the bushes beyond
the spring. He didn’t want to kill.
Hat crown, head, shoulders below—
The kid couldn’t see the man he vis
ioned swiftly, but he aimed where a
shoulder should be and pulled the
trigger. There was a sudden and vi
olent agitation of the bus'hes and a
man went streaking it back toward
his more discreet companions, The
kid’s fingers bent again deliberately
and the man’s swinging right arm
jerked upward and went limp at his
side,
fore
hole
er.
“Git anybody?”
The kid did not answer at once.
"Taken the shoot outa one, Babe,”
he' said at last.
" 'J kill him?”
“Reckon not. Shot his ahm down,
peahs like.”
“Shoot t’ kill, why don’t yuh?”
Babe’s voicQ was high and querulous.
When he turned a strained look upon
the kid, his eyes were glassy and had
an anxious star wholly unlike Babe.
Garner. “Damn their arms and shoul
ders! You can kill if you want to—
anybody that can whirl and bust
knuckles the way you busted Jess
Markel’s can put a bullet through a
man’s heart, if he wants to.”
(Continued Next Week)
The kid made sure of that be
lie withdrew the rifle from the
and crossed the room to anoth-
THOSE "SURPRISE” DISHES!
By Beftty Barclay
of us have a few friends who
the knack of serving even
AH
have
breakfast or lunch in a manner that
fills us with envy. Usually they at
tain their aim by placing a "surprise"
dish on the table—some unusual com
bination, or perhaps a food cooked
in an unusual way.
Don’t envy these master cooks.
ntf! AVT?h dv QTDIVT JLzlLJUr% I JlLJLj m 1 •? 1 JtvlISkili
in Le
of the
a gov-
ajl of
A general shipping strike
Havre Oec. 3 delayed sailing
giant liner Normandie despite
ernment order requisitioning
the 50 vessels in the crowded port,
The Normandie was occupied by a
strong force of mobile guards, Am-
6
2
2
2
or-
servings fried ham
(about 1% pounds)
tablespoons flour
cups orange juice
Parsley
to 3 oranges for slices
Baked Orange Quarters
(Serves 6-8)
Slightly grate skin of 3 whole
anges. Boil 30 minutes. Cool. Cut in
quarters, Arrange on bottom of bak
ing dish. On each quarter, put 1 tea
spoon sugar and 14 teaspoon butter.
Cover with water and bake 1 hour at
moderate temperature (375 F.). Re
move from liquid, sprinkle generous
ly with sugar and brown, slightly, un
der broiler. Serve with meats.
CANADIAN SALMON
ADDS ZEST
Versatility and Finer Flavour Mark
This Canadian Specialty
By Dorothy Higgins
For a hearty, nourishing soup
cold days, nothing could be more de
licious than this Salmon and Tom
ato Bisque. Follow with a vegetable
main dish, or serve for luncheon or
supper with a fruit dessert, and it
makes a meal in itself. Of course,
when it* is the main course for din
ner, serve in generous bowls, but if
it is to precede a dinner, serve it in
smaller portions. Here’s the way to
make this
Canadian Salmon and Tomato Bisque
lb. can Canadian Salmon
tablespoon minced parsley
tablespoons butter
tablespoons flour
on
1
1
2
2
ong the passengers delayed by the-
strike was Anthony Eden, former
foreign secretary of Great Britain,,
who is to make a speech in New
York Dec. 9. He decided to sail in.
the Aquitania which left Southamp
ton Saturday night.
% teaspoon pepper
Turn the salmon without dainingf
into saucepan, add tomatoes, parsley
and water. Simmer 20 minutes. Cook
onion in butter 2 or 3 minutes, blend,
in flour, and milk gradually and cook
until thickened, stirring constantly.
Season with salt and pepper. Strain
hot salmon mixture through coarse
sieve into hot sauce, mix thoroughly
and serve at once.
And here’s a main dish as light and.
fluffy as anything you ever ate. Serve
it with creamed peas for a decorative
touch
ours.
and subtle combination of'flav-
Canadian Salmon Puff
medium-sized potatoes
lb. can Canadian Salmon
tablespoon butter
tablespoon flour
cups milk
teaspoon salt
teaspoon pepper
teaspoon Worcestershire
onion, grated
eggs, separated
i i
salted
mash,
flake
t3
i
1
1
1%
%
%
i
^2
3
Cook potatoes in boiling
water until tender, drain and
Drain salmon, remove skin,
with fork. Combine potatoes and sal
mon. Melt butter, blend in flour, add
milk, gradually, cook until thickened,
stirring constantly. Add seasoning
and salmon mixture. Add well-beat
en egg yolks, fold in stiffly beaten
egg whites. Pour into casserole or
individual ramekins. Place in pan of
hot water, bake in moderate oven
(375 F.) until set, about 40 minutes
for a large casserole and 20 to 25
re ma kins,
heartily.
minutes for individual
Serve at once, and enjoy
Learn to serve “surprise” dishes of
your own. Here are two recipes to
start your file:
Ham with Orange
(Serves 6)
V/2 teaspoons salt
1 No. 2 can Tomatoes
lVz cups water
1 small onion, chopped
2 cups milk
Son: “Dad, can you tell me where
the Pyrenees are?”
Dad: “How should I know? Ask
your mother, she’s been tidying up.”
Business and Professional Directory
Wellington Mutual Fire
Insurance Co.
Established 1840.
Risks taken on all classes of insur
ance at reasonable rates.
Head, Office, Guelph, Ont.
ABNER COSENS, Agept
Wingham.
Dr. W. A. McKibbon, B.A.
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Located at the Olffice of the Late
Dr. H. W. Colborne.
Office Phone 54. Nights 107
HARRY FRYFOGLE
Licensed Embalmer and
Funeral Director
Furniture and
Funeral Service
Ambulance Service.
Phones: Day 109W. Night 109J.
DR. R. L. STEWART
PHYSICIAN
Telephone 29.
i?
J. W. BUSHFIELD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Money to Loan.
Office — Meyer Block, Wingham
THOMAS FELLS
AUCTIONEER
REAL ESTATE SOLD
A Thorough Knowledge of Farm
Stock.
Phone 231, Wingham.
r
us,
my
r.tw erase we liau xkhitc
Ttabe the strength of ft **YowftU' lay I tftkess ehftirge
Dr. Robt. C. REDMOND
M.R.C.S. (England)
L.R.C.P. (London)
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
J. H. CRAWFORD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Bonds, Investment and Mortgages
Consistent Advertising
in The
s
Wingham Ontario
Advance-Times
Gets Results
*
DR. W. M. CONNELL
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Phone 19.
R. S. HETHERINGTON
BARRISTER and SOLICITOR
Office — Morton Block.
Telephone No. 66.
J. ALVIN FOX
Licensed Drugless Practitioner
CHIROPRACTIC - DRUGLESS
THERAPY - RADIONIC
EQUIPMENT
Houts by Appointment
Phone 191. Wingham
W. A. CRAWFORD, M.D.
Physician and Surgeon
Located at the office of the late
Dr. J. P. Kennedy.
Phone 151 Wingham
F. A. PARKER
OSTEOPATH
AU Diseases Treated.
Office adjoining residence next to
Anglican Church on Centre St.
Sunday by appointment
Osteopathy Electricity
Phone 272. Hoars, > a.m. to 8 p.m.
A. R. & F. E. DUVAL
CHIROPRACTORS
CHIROPRACTIC and
ELECTRO THERAPY
North Street - Wingham
Telephone Uf.
9